A Daughter's a Daughter

by Irene Vartanoff

  Then she sat in his lap anyway with her plate of sushi. She fed him and herself a few bites. He shifted her on his lap so her legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to undo the buttons of his shirt, exposing her breasts.

  “Jason, I’m hungry.” She sighed.

  “So am I,” he said. He latched onto one of her nipples and sucked at it fiercely. She almost dropped the plate. After he had paid proper attention to one nipple, he switched to the other. His large hands sought her bare waist under the shirt. She shivered as they closed around her.

  “Put the plate down,” he said, in a low voice, releasing her nipple and staring up into her face. She knew he was going to have her again in a few seconds. They were already entangled. He looked determined and focused. She liked that. She ditched the plate on the table.

  Chapter 34

  A week later, Pam returned to the beach house. The detective had worked quickly. His report had cleared Bruce of any shadow of criminal intent. He was exactly who he’d said, no more, no less. He was Roger and Greta Dietrich’s orphaned son, who had been taken in by Greta’s younger sister, Nora Wicklow. Nora was now a widow of eighty. Roger Dietrich had died in a one-car crash. No autopsy had been performed. Greta had died two weeks earlier, the cause listed as a domestic mishap. The detective had checked with the local police, but had not found anyone alive who remembered the case.

  Pam had been busy that week, too. She had visited two more executives and sent out a press release regarding her biggest donation so far. She had also called her old friend, Harper Hastings. Harper was currently unmarried, unemployed, and bored, something rich women did not enjoy as much as the working class imagined. She willingly took on the mission of brainstorming a strategy to enhance the Bright Side Foundation’s donation base and its social visibility. She also approved of Pam’s classic Dior dress and said Pam looked smashing in it.

  Pam felt pretty good about herself at the moment. Despite how difficult it was to confront executives and ask them for money, she wasn’t backing down. Sometimes she shuddered with nerves in the nearest ladies’ room before or after her interviews. But she persisted. Facing the smug, self-absorbed men in their fancy offices got easier each time.

  The selling proposition her mother had detailed, that of getting in on the ground floor of a new charity, worked powerful magic. Men who started the interviews cold and bored soon understood that Pam was offering them an opportunity to achieve what money alone had not yet brought them: Fame. Social power. A chance at a legacy.

  Every time Pam walked out of an executive office holding a check for the Bright Side Foundation, her belief in herself grew. She almost began to enjoy the challenge.

  She was making progress on other fronts. Although she hadn’t put her house on the market yet, she had spent many hours going through more stored items, and she’d made a series of large donations to local resale charities. It was time-consuming to target the right item to the right charity, but she didn’t mind. She wanted everything to be used and useful, not junk for the landfill.

  She was considering what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. That was the big one. Also what she ought to do, which might be substantially different. She spent a lot of time thinking about what she owed her mother and what would be right for her mother’s future. That involved a long phone call with Alexander, which did not go well at first.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been helping Mother with her bills all this time?” she had accused.

  “You didn’t want to know, for one thing. For another, you didn’t want to know,” he said.

  “Have I been that selfish?”

  “Yes. You all have. Christine is a total self-absorbed bitch. Her excuse is her effed-up kid, but that’s just her excuse.”

  “What about Neil?”

  “Useless. He’s a money-grubbing asshole who thinks of no one but himself.”

  “Okay, we’re all terrible. Level with me about what’s happening.”

  “Mom’s getting a bit vague, that’s all. I went over on the first of the month and we’d do all our bills together. She’s perfectly capable. That way I made sure she did them, and I saw that no one was scamming her. That’s the big fear with older people, scams.”

  “Were you the one who thought of the weekly deli delivery?”

  “Set it up a couple of years ago. Mom hates to cook, we all know that.”

  “It works well. Especially because they take away all the old food, too.”

  “I arranged that. She’s paying extra for the service, but it’s worth it.”

  “Has she seen a doctor? The man who is renting next door, Bruce, told me he bumped into Mom in town, apparently confused about where the hairdresser’s salon was. He also claimed Mom took so long to drive home he was sure she got lost on the way back.”

  Alexander cursed.

  There was a pause. Then he spoke again, slowly. “There’s no way of proving it. Mom’s too clever to admit a fault.”

  “You’re right,” she said. She’d had firsthand experience this past weekend, she explained. “It wasn’t until she called her great-grandson by my son’s name that I realized she didn’t know who he was. She never calls anyone by name. Except me.”

  “Then it’s always ‘Pam-e-la,’ in that awful tone,” he said and laughed.

  “Too true.” Pam’s rueful laugh was a little ragged.

  Alexander said, “Get her to a doctor and have him test her for dementia or Alzheimer’s. Or anything else that might be wrong. This could be something else, you know. Small strokes, maybe.”

  “Then what?”

  “That’s going to be up to you. Don’t worry. Whatever you choose, the family can afford to pay for it. A very good quality assisted living situation. Or an at-home live-in companion. Or whatever. If necessary, I’ll go to Chicago and shake down Christine myself to make sure she pays her share. We can send Neil a bill. He’ll pay it.”

  Pam was encouraged by her talk with Alexander. He made it sound as if taking care of their mother was something she could handle. She’d never thought about it before. She had always assumed she would take care of Jeff or he would take care of her. She hadn’t even thought about the unfairness of expecting Alexander to look after their mother. He had been the obvious choice because he lived near her and they were so close, but it still wasn’t fair. When he had taken the geographical cure, he’d been within his rights. Now it was up to her. She was less afraid than previously. Her recent visits to Dorothy had gone smoothly most of the time.

  Before she returned to the beach, she should talk to Linley. Linley had been completely incommunicado lately. The new television show, which paired her with the emcee, Jason, was a treat to watch. Pam hadn’t missed an episode. It was obvious Linley and Jason were in love. They even argued like lovers.

  Finally, she got Linley on the phone. “I want to see you before I go out to the beach again. When can we meet?”

  Linley sounded taken aback at Pam’s forcefulness. “I’m busy right now,” she claimed.

  “This is important, dear. Name some time tomorrow or the next day when we can get together and talk.” Her words sounded rather brusque and commanding, an attitude she hadn’t projected at Linley in many years. To her surprise, her daughter reacted obediently.

  “Okay. Tomorrow at two-thirty. We can go to a coffee shop to talk. They’ll be empty.”

  The next day, Pam had just come from one of her hard case interviews so she was dolled up in her Chanel suit and the whole nine yards. Linley looked impressed.

  “Is that Chanel?”

  “From your grandmother’s closet,” she said. “She’s the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

  It wasn’t easy to get the words out, but she explained there was some question about Dorothy’s competence to handle her affairs unassisted.

  Linley looked pole-axed. “Not Grandma. She’s so strong. It can’t be.”

  “We don’t know for sure,” Pam consoled, seeing Linley’s vulnera
ble side for once. Then she broke the news about Bruce’s story.

  Linley was astonished. “You mean this man deliberately rented the house next door to cozy up to Grandma?”

  “He even got a cute dog to soften her up. It worked, too. They’re friends now. They take a daily beach walk.”

  “Is he after her money? Does he want to fleece her?”

  “Something worse, I’m afraid,” she said. She told about Dorothy’s confession.

  “Grandma had a gun?” Linley looked amazed and disbelieving.

  “That’s what every person who knows her has said. Me, Alexander, Sarah, Steve.”

  “So Grandma claimed at first that this woman—Greta, right?—died accidentally. Then Grandma changed her story and said she’d forced Greta’s husband, Roger, to admit he pushed this Greta around?”

  “More than that. Classic abuser tactics. Isolation, mysterious bruises, and then the accidental death that was the result.”

  At Linley’s continued look of shock, Pam continued. “I’ll protect her interests. Not from Bruce—whom incidentally I had investigated and he’s not a scam artist. He apparently doesn’t mean to cause her any harm. I want to shield her from her painful memories.”

  “What if Grandma actually killed this man?”

  Pam shook her head. “Very unlikely.”

  “If she can’t remember what happened, and she’s the only witness,” Linley worked it out, “then the police wouldn’t be involved?”

  “That’s right, dear. Even if the gun story is true, there’s nothing Bruce can do about it with no evidence.”

  “Then Grandma is safe.”

  Pam nodded. “Bruce says he only wants to know for his own peace of mind.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s true.”

  Then Pam switched topics and regaled Linley with a summary of her achievements with the foundation. “I’m telling you this because if you see any opportunities for the Bright Side Foundation to get any publicity, I want you to let me know. Either I or Harper will follow up on them. Magda is keeping an eye on email if that’s all you have time for.”

  “Okay, but you should take care of Grandma first.”

  “You can help with that, dear. Why don’t you schedule a weekend visit with her?” she asked.

  Linley squirmed. “I’m…I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “As are we all. Steve is taking his family out there next month.” Pam said it knowing Linley was fiercely competitive with Steve. Always had been. “Surely you’re not busy all the time?” she asked.

  Linley blushed slightly.

  Ah, it must mean she and Jason were an item now. “Why don’t you and Jason come out in two weeks?” Pam added.

  “Me and…” Linley paled.

  From her reaction, Linley was remembering how during her teenage years, she’d called Pam “psychic mom.”

  “Please don’t try to tell me you hadn’t noticed your on-air chemistry or done something about it by now,” Pam said with asperity. “You always leaped right into sexual involvements in the past, ignoring any advice to go slowly.”

  Linley actually flushed red. “Okay. You’re right. I never used to listen.”

  “So, you and Jason?” Pam prodded.

  “We’re seeing each other,” she said in a low tone of voice.

  Linley resembled her sulky teenage self of years ago. Since she had admitted to the relationship with Jason, Pam did not press her further.

  “That’s nice, dear. Bring him with you when you visit. He’ll want to meet Dorothy sometime.”

  At that remark, Linley got a rather wicked smile on her face. “That could be fun.”

  #

  Two weeks later, Pam had gone back and forth to Ardsley too often. She had even moved a pile of her clothes to her mother’s house for convenience. She was about ready to ask her children which pieces of family furniture they’d like, if any. Then she was putting the house up for sale, terrible real estate market or not. She was done. Her memories of Jeff were with her wherever she went. She didn’t need a shrine to him. As for employment, she was never going back to being a cog in a machine again. No more plodding through life like a robot.

  She looked for a small place in the outer reaches of Queens or the west edge of Suffolk County. She’d still need somewhere to live and to keep her car. A long phone talk with Sarah had convinced her not to give up her life to her mother.

  “It’s a stupid, martyr-like thing to do. Your mother doesn’t want or need you stomping all over her life,” Sarah said.

  “The books say there should be moderation, but how else can I supervise her?”

  “Move closer. Call and visit often. Hire a caregiver.” Sarah said. “There are a million strategies you haven’t tried yet. Throwing up your new project and effectively shutting down your own life is not on the list. Especially since your family has plenty of money to pay for help.”

  “True.”

  “You don’t need to be her caregiver. You can supervise whoever does it.”

  Sarah continued, “All you need is a Long Island Railroad station conveniently nearby, so you can get into the city. You can live anywhere on the island.”

  “Then I could continue to develop my foundation while keeping watch over Mom,” she said, relieved to realize it would be practical to have her own separate home. She was just finding her life again. She didn’t want to give it up.

  “Sarah, you’re the best,” she said.

  “Of course I am.”

  #

  Pam asked repeatedly, but Dorothy refused to see a doctor. Her memory seemed just fine when it came to remembering that Pam was nagging her.

  “Pamela, you’re beating a dead horse,” Dorothy said, her voice firm. “I have no intention of seeing a doctor.”

  “But Mom—”

  “That’s enough.” Dorothy went to sit in her favorite wicker chair in the sunroom, leaving Pam standing in the dining room, frustrated.

  What could she do? Her mother still thought of Pam as ineffectual and shy, what she’d been as a teenager. The weakling daughter, the one who held back. Dorothy didn’t think Pam had anything useful to say. Pam had changed over the years and taken a massive leap forward recently, too. But her mother couldn’t see it.

  Dorothy respected Alexander. Pam checked the clock on the living room mantel. After five o’clock. He should be home from golf by now. She picked up the landline phone on the stand in the corner of the room and dialed. Dorothy still had a pastel pink telephone with a dial.

  “What’s up?” Alexander answered.

  “It’s me,” Pam said. “Will you please tell Mom she should see a doctor?”

  “Why do you need me to? Tell her yourself.”

  Pam heaved an impatient breath. “I’ve been telling her ’til I’m blue in the face. She won’t listen to me.”

  “O-kay,” he said, drawling the word. “I get it.”

  Pam turned and called toward the sunroom. “Mom, Alexander’s on the phone. He’d like to talk to you.”

  “Oh, how nice,” Dorothy said, rising from her chair and quickly walking through to the living room. Pam held out the old-fashioned wired phone to her mother.

  Dorothy spoke into the receiver. The affection she had for her younger son was clear in her voice. Pam gazed out at the water, wondering if she could ever get through to Dorothy that her youngest daughter wasn’t a total incompetent.

  “All right, dear. If you think I should,” Dorothy said into the phone. “Yes, I’ll let you know what the doctor says. Absolutely.”

  After a few more words, Dorothy put the phone back on the receiver. “Alexander wants you to make an appointment with my doctor.”

  “Wonderful,” Pan said, heaving a sigh of relief Dorothy had finally consented.

  Dorothy gave her a look. “You don’t have to act as if making a doctor appointment is difficult.”

  “I’m not—I didn’t mean—oh, forget it,” Pam said, frustrated again. “I’ll call the doctor’s office right away.”


  Why did any of her three siblings think it would be a good idea for Pam to move in with Dorothy? Living with her would be hell.

  Chapter 35

  The doctor diagnosed Dorothy with mild dementia. He prescribed the current Alzheimer’s medication to combat it and slow it down. He told Pam that was all they could do. Dorothy seemed not to take in what he said.

  “See, that wasn’t such a big deal, was it?” Pam said to her mother after they had picked up the prescription. They were lunching in a restaurant in town. It was a pretty cottage renovated into a tearoom. Probably a little too precious for her mother’s taste, but it suited her own.

  “I don’t like doctors, never did,” Dorothy said. “I especially hated them since they let Malcolm drop dead on the sidewalk.”

  Pam winced. “No, Mom, that was Jeff, my husband.” She shook her head. “Dad died of a heart attack in your house.”

  “That’s what I said. Doctors let our husbands, both of them, die long before their time,” Dorothy said in an aggrieved yet still authoritative manner.

  Sustained conversation with her mother was proving difficult in a new way. Before, Dorothy had nagged her constantly. Today, she seemed unable to keep on topic. Perhaps the outing had made her tired. Or perhaps it was not being in her own home that made it hard to focus?

  Their meal arrived. After eating something Dorothy seemed more together. Pam was grateful, noting it for the future. She should make sure her mother ate regularly. The doctor had warned her that the medications dimmed appetite substantially. “You’ll have to remind your mother to eat.”

  Chapter 36

  Linley thought it was funny that Jason was so particular about what clothes to bring for their weekend at her grandmother’s house.

  “Pack khakis. It’s no big deal.”

  “Hey, I’ve never been to a beach house. I grew up in the hinterlands of Pennsylvania, remember?” he said in his defense.

  “Are you nervous about meeting my family?” she asked.

  “I want them to approve of me.”