Soulmates

by Suzanne Jenkins

  “Yes, this weekend. If we can wipe our slates clean of any prior engagements; of which I have none.” They laughed as he put his arm around her shoulder and they walked out to the hallway. “This looks great,” he said, glancing in the kitchen. “The quartz is perfect.”

  “Yes, I like it too. I’m really glad we went with wood-faced appliances, too. A large stainless fridge would look all wrong here.”

  “So I’ll see you after lunch, and again for dinner on the beach, my treat, okay?” She nodded her head and reached up to hug him.

  “Thank you, John. I’m sorry I seem like I’m rushing you. I’m content to allow nature to take its course, but I want you to know I’m open to our relationship.”

  “That’s good to know,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “I’ll see you in three hours.” She stood at the door and watched the repeat of John deadheading her daylilies.

  “What do you do with them?” she called.

  “Smell them all day as a reminder of you,” he answered, laughing. “I’m a freak.” She laughed as she closed the door.

  “Maybe I’ll try the beach again,” she uttered to the air, grabbing her hat and walking through the veranda for the second time that day.

  Chapter 22

  Excited about being in Manhattan, Pete arrived just as lunchtime was in full swing. Finding the correct subway was easy once a police officer pointed out directions to him. The excitement was short lived as the crowds came at him when he tried to get off the subway car, frightening him, his impulse to use his elbows to work through to the stairwell. All he wanted to do was get outside into fresh air. The heat and smell of humanity burned his nostrils.

  The first thing he saw when he emerged from the station was a man of indeterminate age urinating on the building.

  “For crissake! Use a toilet, you pig,” Pete yelled, disgusted. Although public urination wasn’t unheard of in Philadelphia, the tolerance for it was less and men had lost their lives for such an infraction. He looked at the address on the paper and realized he should have consulted a map. The crowds thinned out and he started walking aimlessly. A man in black checking text messages on his phone leaned against what appeared to be an unmarked police car. Praying he was a cop, Pete walked in his direction.

  “Hey, can you tell me what train I need to get to this house?” he hollered, waving his torn address book page. An NYPD detective taking a break, Sam Malone walked around his car toward the kid with the paper.

  “Let me take a look,” he said, reaching for the paper. There it was, in Jason’s neat handwriting Sandra Benson 212-555-1410 and then in a messier handwriting – 84 South First Street. He looked at the young man, just barely out his teens.

  “What’s your business with Miss Benson?”

  “She’s my girlfriend,” Pete said. “I come here from Philly just to see her.”

  “Is that right? Come over here for a minute and we can look at my map.” Sam opened the car door and invited Pete to sit down in front of his computer. Standing in front of the door to prevent him from leaving, he pulled out his phone dialing Tom Adam’s number.

  “Tommy, I’ve got a kid from Philly here looking for your ex. Do you want to take over? I’ll hold him here on the street.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Tom said, mystified. What could this be all about? In minutes, he was at the location.

  “Detective Adams will help you from here on out,” Sam said. Pete got out of one car and was lead to the other.

  “So you’re looking for Miss Benson,” Tom said, looking at the sheet of paper.

  “That’s right,” Pete said. “If you’ll point the way, I’ll head over there. I ain’t got all day.”

  “Calm down now,” Tom said. “Let’s see what Miss Benson has to say about it.”

  “I got her phone number right there,” Pete said. But Tom knew she’d be at work and dialed Lang, Smith and Romney, asking for Sandra.

  “I’ve got a young man here, looking for your house,” he said after they exchanged stilted pleasantries.

  Frowning at the phone, Sandra had no idea who it could be. “What’s his name?” But the minute the words were out, she knew, afraid she’d throw up on her desk.

  “What’s your name, sir?” Tom asked.

  “Pete,” he said. “Pete Porter.”

  “Pete Porter.” When Tom repeated the words, her heart sank. She had to be honest with Tom because the last thing she needed was Pete going to her house with Valarie there alone.

  “Tom, he can only mean to do me harm, me or the baby. Valarie is there alone with Brent. What can you do that will prevent him from going over?”

  “You’ve got to give me more to hold him Sandra,” Tom said. Sandra thought for a second and decided to let Pete have the first word, having done nothing wrong short of a lapse in moral judgment.

  “Tom ask him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to fill you in.” They said goodbye and Tom turned to his passenger again. Bending down and looking into the car, Pete was trying to look composed.

  “Miss Benson tells me you’ve come here to do her harm, is that true?”

  “She said that?” Tom saw the white, pinched line around Pete’s mouth, the tick in his cheek.

  “Is it true?”

  “Maybe,” he screamed. “She won’t take my calls. I tried to talk to her over the phone, but she won’t take my calls.”

  “What’s your beef?”

  “She got AIDS, that’s my beef! The bitch had sex with me and didn’t tell me she had AIDS.” Tom’s heart sank. He was happily married with a new baby on the way, his memories of the time with Sandra painful and full of regret. But he still cared about her. It sounded like she was on a collision course, hanging out with Pam’s ex and now having sex with a kid.

  “How old are you?” Tom asked, holding his breath.

  “Twenty-three,” Pete replied with hostilely. “Old enough to take care of myself.” Tom exhaled, relieved.

  “I’m sure you can. But what you can’t do is come around to a lady’s house and make trouble for her.” He reached for his radio and called for a backup, Pete looking out the windshield, wishing he was back home in his messy apartment.

  Sighing, he was sorry he ever ventured out; sorry he let Sandra into his apartment in the first place. “What do I do if I have AIDS now?” he asked.

  “Did you use a condom?”

  “Yes sir, every time.” Great, Tom thought grossed out.

  “You’re probably fine, but get tested anyway. Everyone who’s sexually active should be tested periodically for STDs.” A patrol car pulled up behind him and Tom explained the circumstances, leaving out the part about Sandra having HIV.

  “Come on buddy,” Tom whispered, offering his hand. “You’re going for a ride in a cop car. And if you’re smart, you won’t mention AIDS. You never know what might happen.” Pete didn’t protest, deciding his plan would have never worked anyway. He’d apologize and beg to go home, and never leave Philadelphia again.

  It wasn’t going to be that easy for Tom to move forward, however. As soon as the car pulled away, Tom called Sandra again. He tried to keep his voice from shaking, but lost the battle. She could tell right away that he was livid.

  “I don’t give a crap what you do,” he said. “How you live your life or who you sleep with, the friends you betray. But when you sleep with kids and don’t warn them about your health issues, you are committing a crime in the state of New York. And when your boyfriends from Philadelphia start coming around looking for you, now that’s a problem for me.”

  “Tom, what are you going to do about it? How in God’s name did you even meet up with him?”

  “You’re just lucky he approached someone whose hand isn’t in the pocket of the tabloids. Trust me, you got real lucky this time.”

  “How do you know he’s not lying?” she asked, grabbing at straws.

  “Once a whore, always a whore,” he lashed out. Sandra gasped as he hung up on her. There was no point in saying another wo
rd to each other.

  The summer was flying by at a pace Lisa had never experienced. “I must be getting old,” she said at breakfast. Gladys was fussing at the counters as usual and Lisa was sitting at the breakfast table with a small child attached to her breast.

  “Why do you say that?” Gladys asked, putting a cup of coffee in front of her. “You don’t know what old is.”

  “Time is going too quickly. I haven’t been to the beach yet this year. Last year we were there almost daily.”

  “Dragging four children out is a lot harder than one,” Gladys said and Lisa nodded.

  “You aren’t kidding.” Then she had an idea. “What time is it?”

  “Just after nine,” Gladys replied. Lisa took her coffee into the den, careful not to dislodge the sleeping Dan Junior as he napped with her nipple in his mouth. Getting situated on the couch, she started scrolling through calls on her phone until she found Cara Ellison’s number.

  She touched it and it started to ring. In seconds, a weary sounding Cara answered.

  “Oh boy, I woke you up,” Lisa said apologetically.

  “No, you didn’t. Who is this?”

  “Lisa Chua. Are you okay?” To say Cara was shocked wasn’t exactly accurate. But she was grateful and she wanted Lisa to know it.

  “Lisa, thank you so much for what you did for me. My attorney called and I knew right away that you were behind the changes Dan agreed to. I’m surprised that everything is so complicated. I know I brought this on myself, but I feel like it’s a struggle. You called just as I was getting ready to have a pity party.”

  “Do you want to feel sorry for ourselves together?” Cara immediately thought, what does she have to complain about? But quickly reeled it in when she remembered Lisa was married to Dan.

  “Yes! What do you have in mind?”

  “I think I’ll come into Babylon if my mother doesn’t have other plans and spend the day on the beach. If I don’t get out of this house soon, I may regret it. My bedroom needs painting and I can only imagine the mess I’d make of that.” Lisa didn’t say my husband is up to something and I have no idea what it is. But I’m going to find out as soon as the PI I hired gets back to me.

  “You’ll get to be with Dan Junior all day. I’m sure he can use a break from me.” Cara was thrilled, her heart pounding. She understood the risk Lisa was taking, it was against the law for her to allow a visit without supervision.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Cara asked gently.

  “Can I trust you?” Lisa replied. “If I can trust you I want to do it. But we can never breathe a word to Dan or to the attorneys.”

  “You have my word,” she said, a tremor of excitement in her voice evident. “What time?”

  “Meet me at my mother’s at eleven,” she said. “Her kitchen is torn apart so we’ll have to bring lunch. I better call her to warn her, but if you don’t hear from me, just go.” They chatted a while longer and hung up. Lisa was thrilled with her plan; finally, something to look forward to. A day with her husband’s ex-lover. “I’m becoming my mother,” she said out loud.

  Next, she dialed Pam’s number. “What are you up to?” Lisa asked.

  “I just had coffee with a friend,” she said, smiling into the air.

  “Do you have plans today?” Oh no, Pam thought knowing what was coming. Could she be that selfish?

  “Oh honey, I do. But you’re welcome to use the house if you’re going to the beach.”

  “That’s exactly what I want,” Lisa said cheerfully. “A friend is meeting me at your house at eleven but we’ll be on the beach and will stay out of your hair.”

  “Okay, great. I’ll see you at eleven.” They chatted more about the grandmothers and Pam’s kitchen before saying goodbye.

  It wasn’t until after she hung up from talking to Lisa that Cara remembered Pam had once seen her and Dan together at Organic Bonanza.

  Chapter 23

  Jason Bridges regained consciousness Monday afternoon. Jane swore he opened his eyes and looked right at her Sunday afternoon after Jeff’s demise, but the doctors told her it was an involuntary nervous response.

  Sitting by his bedside with her arms crossed on the side rails with her eyes closed, she just had a feeling he was awake. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, his were open, too and staring right at her. He started fighting the ventilator so it began to alarm and that brought his nurse in.

  “Well, well, well. Going to join us, are you?” she said, making adjustments to the machine. “Mr. Bridges, you’ve got a tube down your throat to breath for you, so just relax and let it do its work. Do you understand what I’m asking?” Closing his eyes, he nodded his head and tried not to resist as the machine forced oxygen into his lungs.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked. Jason shook his head slightly, then grimaced. “Okay, I’m going to take that as a yes. I’ll be right back with something good for you.”

  A message was sent out to family members that Jason was alive and awake and moving all his body parts.

  By Monday night, he was doing well enough for the nurses to wean him off the ventilator. It wasn’t more than ten minutes before he started asking for Pam.

  Hoarse from the endotracheal tube, Jane had to lean in to hear what he was saying. “Where am I?” he asked, looking around the room.

  “At County Hospital in Delaware,” Jane answered. “You’re in the ICU.”

  “Why am I here?” he whispered. Jane took his hand and squeezed it.

  “You were in a boating accident,” she said softly, worried he’d ask for details, but he seemed too confused by the idea of it to want much detail.

  “How long have I been in here?” Here looked around the strangeness with the beeping machinery and uncurtained windows to the hallway.

  “Three days, Dad. The accident happened on Saturday and today is Monday.”

  “Why isn’t Pam here?” he asked, straining to look around the room.

  Jane patted his hand apologetically. “Dad, Pam knows, but she hasn’t come down from Long Island.” He lay back, his chin trembling, tears overflowing his eyes.

  “I can’t believe she hasn’t been here,” he cried out. “My fiancée!” Jane felt out of her comfort zone. They’d decided not to mention Aaron right away, or Jeff. But his short-term memory was gone and he didn’t realize he’d stood Pam up at the altar.

  “Dad, it’s not good for you to get so upset,” she said gently.

  “Upset isn’t the word for it. If the tables were turned, I’d have been at her bedside in a flash.” Jane decided she needed back up, so excused herself and went out to find his nurse.

  “Keep making excuses,” the nurse said when Jane explained the problem. “I’ll get in touch with his doctor and see what he wants to do. Your father doesn’t seem rational to me; I’m not sure what he’s usually like.”

  “Not like this, that’s for sure,” Jane said.

  “Well then, let’s allow him a few more hours to pull it together. I can give him a little something in his IV that will calm him down and make him feel better. I’ll be right in.” Jane went back to Jason’s room, wishing her mother were still alive. Being Jason’s only support person was too much for her. Two living siblings had already made the trip once for the wedding that never was. Her brother Bill from Alaska was due in that night, her sister Louise was nine months pregnant, living in Florida and she wasn’t going anywhere now. It looked like everything was going to fall on Jane and Bill.

  The nurse was back in minutes with another drug to push in his IV. “I don’t want any pain medication,” he whined.

  “This isn’t for pain, Mr. Bridges. It’s a little something to help you get through this rough patch.”

  “The only rough patch I’m having is that ingrate of a girlfriend doesn’t care when I’m in the ICU, almost dead.” The nurse looked at her with wide eyes and Jane shrugged her shoulders.

  “He wanted to know. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You’re doi
ng fine, Mr. Bridges,” she said. “Your doctor is already talking about moving you to a regular floor.”

  “Oh please, don’t do that,” he cried. “I want to stay in a private room. I can’t get out of bed yet. I need you to take care of me.”

  “No worries,” she said calmly. “You’ll be with us a few more days. The stronger you get, the sooner you’ll get to go home.” She looked over at Jane and pursed her lips. “That medication should kick in any second.” Jason closed his eyes again. Praying he was going to nap, Jane sat back, ready for a break, closing her eyes, too. But his head snapped forward again.

  “Call her for me,” he said. Opening her eyes, Jane frowned at her father.

  “Dad, what are you talking about?”

  “Call Pam. She should be here. I want her to know how disappointed I am that she isn’t here.”

  “Dad, forget it, please? You can deal with Pam later.”

  “Give me a phone then and I’ll call myself.” Jane didn’t want to be the one to remind him of what he did, but the alternative was letting him call her and make a fool of himself. She looked carefully at him. Maybe he was losing his mind before the wedding, too.

  “Dad, you didn’t get married.”

  “I know I didn’t, we’re supposed to get married Saturday.”

  “No, you were supposed to get married a week ago last Saturday. You didn’t go through with it.” Jason stared at her, uncomprehending.

  “Why didn’t we go through with it? We paid thousands of dollars for the reception. Tens of thousands.”

  “You decided Friday night you didn’t want to go through with it. Pam knew nothing about it. Uncle Jeff….uncle Jeff told me it was a tragedy; Pam showed up in her beaded dress and there was no groom. She had to walk down the aisle alone to address the congregation.” Jason’s expression didn’t change. He looked up at the ceiling and then back down at Jane.

  “I think I remember. How could I have done such a thing?”

  “You can understand then why Pam isn’t here. You shouldn’t call her, either. Let her get over the humiliation.” His head in his hands, Jason started to cry again.