Running From Mercy

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Running From Mercy Page 14

by Terra Little


  “You have to be lying. Paris never told me about that and I know she would have. And Nikki never mentioned it to me, either.”

  “Nikki was raised not to discuss what went on in our home, not even with you. I can’t say why Paris never told you, but it’s the truth. I think you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t lie about something like this. I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you about anything, as far as that goes.”

  “You have to admit it’s a little hard to swallow.” Unable to stand still any longer, Pam came away from the tree and paced back and forth. She pushed her hands through her hair and fisted them at the nape of her neck. Her eyes darted around restlessly. “God, what is it about this damn town? It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone. First Jasper tells me that all the old folks are mad with me because I haven’t gotten my hair done or been run out of Willie’s kitchen. And now you . . .” She released the hold she had on her hair long enough to wave a distracted hand in his direction. “What am I supposed to do with what you’re telling me, Chad? First of all, how am I supposed to believe it? Would you be telling me this if Paris was still alive?”

  He thought about the question and shook his head quickly. “Probably not since you undoubtedly wouldn’t be here if that was the case. I’m telling you now so you can finally understand the legacy you left behind.”

  “You told me once years ago that I’d fucked up everybody’s life. I don’t need to hear that shit again.”

  “Then at least stop beating yourself up about what happened between us the other night. Hell, Paris would’ve been the first to tell you that none of us is perfect. I couldn’t be the husband I’d promised to be, so she found what she needed somewhere else, and that was fine with me. I encouraged her to be with someone else. And I never told her, but I’m sure she knew I had other relationships, too. It was an arrangement that worked out for us because we were never meant to be together in the first place. The being together part was for you and me.”

  “This is crazy.” Pam met his eyes and stared into them long and hard. “Why would either of you want to live like that? And why didn’t she tell me?”

  “We talked about divorce a few times, but whenever the subject of who would get Nikki came up, we left it alone. I told her I would fight her and drag you into court right along with her if it came to that.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “What would you have done, Pam? Would you have come back?”

  Pam opened her mouth to respond, but she never got the chance. Nikki chose that moment to come rushing over to them, a look of relief on her smiling face. As if sensing the tension between them, she looked from Chad to Pam before grabbing hold to Pam’s hand.

  “Aunt Pam, Mr. Jasper said for you to come on. The band is setting up and he told me to come and find you.”

  “He’s ready for me already?” Pam looked up at the sky and frowned. “They didn’t used to start the singing and shit until it was completely dark.”

  “You’re singing?” Chad asked, eyebrows high on his forehead.

  “Yep,” Nikki jumped in. “They’re starting early because Mr. Jasper told everybody and their mama that Aunt Pam was singing.”

  “I said I would sing one song,” Pam protested. Nikki tugged on her hand until she was reluctantly skipping along behind her. She threw Chad a slightly alarmed look over her shoulder, to which he only smiled. As they came closer to the stage, she saw that a wooden stool was sitting on the stage behind a freestanding microphone and that was all. The band was nowhere in sight.

  Jasper saw her coming and damn near ran up the steps along the side of the stage. The look on his face told her that he had accurately intercepted the look on hers. She was seriously considering strangling him with her bare hands and he knew it. He adjusted the microphone and sent a high-pitched squeal out over the field, then cleared his throat. Pam stood at the bottom of the steps with her arms folded protectively around her middle.

  “This is ridiculous,” she spat out of the side of her mouth to Nikki, whose arms were draped around her shoulders possessively.

  “Shhhh, listen,” Nikki whispered back, lifting a hand like she intended to place it over Pam’s mouth. She missed the glare Pam shot her.

  “Okay, so ya’ll know little Pam Mayes finally brought her tail back to Mercy,” Jasper was saying. He held up his hands to hold the crowd off as catcalls rose up in the air. “I told her she was gon’ have to sing for us if she wanted us to look over her being away so long and all. Seems to me she’s got a lot of making up to do. Am I right?”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Pam hissed to Nikki. She glanced over and locked eyes with Willie and couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. He was tuning up his guitar and looking at her expectantly. She eased away from Nikki and went over to him. “You getting that thing ready for me?”

  “This here thing ’bout old as you, gal.” Willie looked at her sternly from under bushy brows. “Don’t be too rough with it ’less you wanna deal with me, and you ain’t too old for me to turn over my knee, either.”

  “You spanked my butt a few times, as I recall.”

  “You remember that?” A chuckle rumbled in his throat.

  “Nobody forgets your spankings, Mr. Willie. I remember everything.” She took his hand and squeezed it warmly.

  “Don’t be tryin’ to butter me up, gal. Always was a shyster.” He pretended to be twisting his hand free of hers as he frowned at her. “And still ain’t gave me no suga, either.” He beamed after she leaned in and pecked his cheek.

  Then Nikki was there, poking and prodding at Pam until she was up on the stage, taking slow steps across the wooden surface to the microphone. She spent a few minutes simply staring out at the crowd, collecting her thoughts as she smoothed her hair back and away from her face. She reached behind her to pick up the stool and set it to the side before she brought the microphone closer to her mouth.

  “I’ve sang in a lot of places and for a lot of people,” Pam told the crowd, “but none of those people knew me when I was flat-chested and missing my front teeth.” A smattering of laughter reached her ears and some of the tension in her shoulders dissipated. “Never sang in Mercy before, and I’m a little nervous, so please bear with me. Nikki?” She looked toward the steps and caught Nikki’s eyes. “Would you get Auntie some water, please?” Scant minutes later, Nikki handed Pam a bottle of water and she turned it up gratefully. Then she spoke into the microphone again. “Now, can someone over eighteen please get me a beer?”

  The crowd howled with laughter and Pam began to sing. She didn’t need the guitar for the Negro National Anthem. She sang it a cappella and encouraged the crowd to sing along with her, which they did. After the final verse ended and the clapping and cheering died down, she pulled the stool close, sat down and adjusted the microphone. Willie handed her his guitar and she settled it across her lap reverently.

  Pam strummed the guitar strings softly and closed her eyes as she found her rhythm. While she allowed her fingers to warm up, she hummed along with the chords and let the music roll through her body.

  “Miss Verna, I’m coming to get my hair touched up real soon,” she said and laughter was her response. “Nobody shampoos hair like Miss Verna, and ya’ll know it. Got that whole scalp scratching thing down to a science. And Miss Merlene . . .” she strummed a few more strings absently, “next time I come over don’t run me out of your front room with a broomstick, okay?” More laughter, this time stronger and louder. She let it die down, then cleared her throat. “I wrote this song a while back, but this’ll be the first time I’ve ever sang it in public. It’s called ‘Have Mercy On Me.’ This is for you, Mercy, and for you, Paris, wherever you are. I love you.”

  Pam sat still with the lump in her throat and the crowd stood still with her. Then she took a deep breath and pretended she was thousands of miles away in concert and let loose.

  Three songs and many hugs and kisses later, Pam slipped away from the crowd and made a
hasty beeline for her car. She locked herself inside, put the key in the ignition, and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. She took several deep, calming breaths and scrubbed half-dried tears from her cheeks roughly. She reached to turn on the headlights and ended up with the windshield wipers swishing across the glass instead. It took her shaking hands several tries to locate the switch to turn the wipers off and then find the correct button for the lights. She turned them on and pulled out into the street slowly.

  Two miles down the road, her hands were still shaking, and Pam leaned over to feel around in the passenger seat for her cell phone. She flipped it open and dialed with one hand steering the car. The phone rang ten times on the other end and then a sleepy voice answered.

  “This is Pamela Mayes. Is this a bad time?” she said into the phone. Just hearing the familiar voice instantly calmed Pam’s nerves. She pulled over to the side of the road to talk and then to listen.

  Miles drove straight from the airport to the B&B where Pam was staying, hoping to find her there and persuade her to join him for a late dinner or maybe drinks, if she’d already eaten. She wasn’t in her room and he’d forgotten about the annual festival until the owner of the B&B reminded him that most, if not all of the town, was probably there. That explained why Moira hadn’t answered her phone, he thought. She would be there, too.

  He entertained the idea of tracking Pam down at Truman Field, but decided against it, since he wasn’t really in the mood for socializing on that grand of a scale. He preferred to have Pam all to himself, without all the distractions other people would provide. He thought he knew the best way to approach her with the questions he wanted answers to and he was anxious to get to it. He declined the offer to wait for Pam in the main parlor and returned to his car.

  He was checking the messages on his cell phone when Pam’s car skidded to a stop not far from where he was parked. Had she glanced around she would’ve seen him, but she didn’t. She hopped out of her car before it came to a complete stop and disappeared inside the B&B as if she thought she was being chased. His eyebrows shot up curiously. He reached for the door handle and froze as a second car pulled into the lot and parked. He watched Chad go inside after Pam.

  Miles glanced at his watch and noted the time. 8:47 P.M. It occurred to him that he should go and check in at his hotel, perhaps grab himself some dinner, since hadn’t eaten anything in hours. He could catch up with Pam sometime tomorrow, when she was more relaxed and approachable. Something had obviously upset her, if the way she’d driven into the parking lot and run inside the building was any indication. Now probably wasn’t the best time to go tapping on her door suggesting dinner.

  “To hell with that,” Miles told himself. Even more pressing than the need to check into his hotel was the question running around in his mind: How long would Chad stay in Pam’s room? There was only one way to find out the answer and that was to wait and see. Miles loosened his tie and slid down in his seat to do just that.

  Inside the B&B, Chad knocked lightly on Pam’s door and stood back to wait. “Who’s there?” She stood on the other side of the door, close so her mouth was almost pressed to the wood and she didn’t have to raise her voice.

  “It’s me,” Chad murmured.

  Pam turned the lock and pulled the door open a little at a time. She peered out at Chad through an inch wide crack. “Where is Nikki?”

  “Spending the night with Kelly so she can stay at the festival longer than she knows she’s supposed to.” He used two fingers to nudge the door open wider. She didn’t protest and he kept nudging until there was enough space for him to slip inside the room. She stepped around him to lock the door and he stepped with her, moving up close behind her and opening his mouth on the back of her neck. Pam’s eyes closed on a long sigh. She sucked the sigh back into her mouth as his hands came around and cupped her breasts.

  Chad’s tongue flickered along the line of Pam’s shoulder, up her neck and dipped into her ear. His breathing was heavy and erratic. “Do you want me to leave, Pam?” Even as he asked the question, he was pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor. Her bra was next, and then his fingers were teasing her nipples. Pam swallowed and shook her head. She turned in his arms and opened her mouth for his tongue.

  Miles didn’t check into his hotel room until 4:52 A.M., twenty minutes after Chad left the B&B.

  THIRTEEN

  Dear Diary,

  Today I learned the true meaning of knocking before opening a closed door. This was even worse than the time me and Pam walked into Lisa Hennigan’s room and caught her and Leslie Mayer in bed together, kissing each other on the mouth. Everybody was embarrassed then, but today just takes the cake. I guess me and Nate can stop asking ourselves what’s really going on between Pam and Chad because now we know. A little bit, anyway because neither one of them is saying much.

  Chad’s parents are out of town (big surprise there, right?) and we all planned to meet over to his house and hang out. I met up with Nate at the A&P and we waited around to see if Pam would show up, but she never did. Where was she? I’m getting to that. Nate bought some sodas and talked old Mr. Tommy into letting him have a bottle of wine, too. We walked over to Chad’s house and went on in since the back door was unlocked. It was real quiet and Nate thought maybe Chad was in his room playing with himself or something, so he told me to be quiet going up the steps. He thought it would be funny to bust in Chad’s room and catch him. I thought so too, but at the same time I was wondering how Nate figured that’s what Chad would be doing. Did he play with himself, too? Hmmm.

  Anyway, Nate eased the door open and we peeked inside the room and there was Pam and Chad in bed together. Oh my God! So that’s where she disappeared to. Thank God they had clothes on and were lying on top of the covers or else I would’ve really had a heart attack. From the look on Nate’s face I could tell he was just as surprised as I was. I mean, we pretty much figured that they liked each other, maybe even kissed a few times. We suspected some stuff, but not this. Pam was lying on her back and Chad was lying on top of her, between her legs with his head on her chest. They were both out cold, Chad with his arms pushed underneath Pam and Pam with one arm around a pillow and the other around Chad’s neck. It gets worse, though. We were still peeking in the room, watching, when Chad woke up and shook Pam, so she could wake up, too. I guess she didn’t come to fast enough because then he started kissing her like crazy. Next thing me and Nate knew, he was lying full on top of her and they were sucking face like people on television do, mouths open wide, so you just knew they were tonguing. I felt my mouth drop open and looked at Nate. His mouth was open, too. Pam pretended like she was so sleepy, but she was kissing Chad back and squeezing his butt as he pressed into her down there.

  Nate gasped when Chad went up on his hands and rolled his hips into Pam’s private area and I gasped when she gasped. I can’t believe Pam never told me any of this. We tell each other everything, but she’s been holding out about Chad, and about lying in his bed with him and kissing like she’s thirty instead of fifteen. Oh my God! I can’t stop saying that.

  Nate pulled the door closed and we stood there a long time, listening to them talk in low voices and hearing Pam giggle. She was laughing as she told Chad to stop doing whatever he was doing because she had to pee. We heard her climb off the bed and come walking toward the door. I’m glad Nate is a quick thinker because I was still in shock. He hurried up and knocked on the door, so they would think we had just gotten there.

  I wonder what they would’ve done if me and Nate hadn’t showed up when we did? Pam keeps saying she’s a virgin, but now I’m not so sure. Are they having sex? When I find out (and I will find out) you’ll be the first to know.

  Paris

  Nikki closed the diary and raised enlightened eyes in Pam’s direction. Her dad had dropped her off at the B&B this morning on his way to the high school, so she could spend the day with Pam rather than moping around the house by herself. They’d go
ne out for breakfast and then returned to the B&B to swim before lunch. Nikki stretched out on her lounge chair and watched her aunt swim. She’d been trying to keep track of Pam’s laps, but she lost count somewhere around lap twelve because that was when she had opened the diary and started reading. These days she carried the diary around with her, mostly everywhere she went, in the Gucci tote she had finally talked Pam into parting with.

  Aunt Pam and her dad? The idea of the two of them together, kissing and who knew what else, gave her a funny feeling. Like she was on the outside looking in on something she would never be able to completely figure out. Mercy was a small town, and everybody knew everybody else’s business, but she had never heard the slightest whisper about anything going on between her dad and her aunt back then. And she’d heard plenty about Aunt Pam running wild and being a hooligan. The gossips had always put her and Uncle Nate together, saying they were the ones who were sneaking around and doing . . . things.

  Still, her mom wouldn’t write about Aunt Pam and her dad if there wasn’t something to it. She rationalized that if anyone had cause to know the inside scoop, it would’ve been her mom. The one time she’d asked her dad about something her mom had written he’d gone all stiff and started snapping Nikki’s head off, which was just as bad as coming right out and telling her to mind her own business. She knew she couldn’t go to him asking more questions about him and Aunt Pam, and Aunt Pam probably wouldn’t be any better with answering questions either.

  I guess I’ll just have to keep reading, Nikki thought.

 

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