Pam of Babylon by Suzanne Jenkins Read Free Book Online

father died. He was devastated. He turned to her for advice about how to grieve, how to come to terms with the loss. Three months later, it began. It wasn’t one pursuing the other, but more of a mutual need to be together. They started walking at lunch. He said his doctor warned him about his heart, high blood pressure, and cholesterol. He hated working out. His wife was a gym rat, going there daily for years. But she was in great shape, he had said. He didn’t want to leave her a widow.
    The funny thing about it was that once they had sex, it wasn’t a big deal. They just did it. He was okay at it, but there didn’t seem to be any passion. That bothered her and she would have been lying to herself if she said she wasn’t disappointed. She felt passion, but didn’t express it; it would have been too one-sided. She wondered if it was his age so she ignored it. They didn’t go to hotels during the day or anything tawdry like that. Very rarely, he would ask her if she would be able to spend the night with him. He asked to go to her apartment, but she refused and they got a hotel room. She wasn’t sure that staying all night was wise; coming into work together in the morning would raise suspicions. She worried people were already talking.
    So it wasn’t the sex; it was just Jack. There was just something about him that drew her to him. She knew it would be short-lived; he would never leave his wife. He made that clear from the beginning. He was madly in love with her. They had two grown kids together. His mother worshiped him. He thought his in-laws did, too. He would never disappoint them by divorcing his wife. He didn’t even know why he was doing it, having this affair, except that he loved Sandra. He told her that. “I love my wife, but I love you. I need you in my life,” he would say. She remembered their last night together. After they made love, Jack lit a cigar, his one concession to vice, and sat up against the pillow smoking. She was curled up at his side. The ash fell from the cigar, and he let it scatter on the sheets. Laughing, she looked up at him and said, “I don’t date men who smoke.”
    “You do now, my dear,” he replied.

    She finished her tea and roll, and as she got up to put the dishes in the sink, the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and looked at the caller ID, and her heart started pounding right away. Jack Smith . Of course, it wasn’t him; it was his wife. But, seeing that name, she had to take a deep breath to pause for a moment before she answered.

8
    M arie was bored. Anne had efficiently taken over the kitchen, so there was nothing for her to do until two that afternoon, when she would accompany Pam to the funeral home. They had picked out a suit, his most beautiful spring suit, made of silk, cut close to the body to show off his new physique.
    They still had to choose the casket. Would that make it real for Pam then? Marie thought she was acting a little strange. Granted, she was grieving, but she was not your usual grief-stricken widow. Marie found that she was avoiding her sister. Strangely, her Hell’s Kitchen apartment was where she really wanted to be at that moment, not here, not in this foreign place she had once loved so much. Maybe it was she, and not Pam, who was acting strange.
    For one thing, she felt like the house no longer held a single atom of Jack, not his den, his bedroom closet, or even his clothes. It was as though he was spectral dust, and with a strong wind, Jack blew away. Had Pam foreseen this day and systematically removed all traces of him, little by little, so even he didn’t notice? Marie found it hard to believe that she was ever comfortable there. She felt a combination of rage at his betrayal and deep, profound grief at his loss. Who am I feeling this about? she thought. Was he betraying me or Pam? Oh God, there are so many issues to sort out now . What had been just simmering under the surface had been exposed to be dealt with, at least