“Oh my God, Ben.” She looked at Ted, and he put his hand on her shoulder.
“We’ll be out of here in a bit, and you can have the place to yourself. I’m worried about Deb being alone.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving her.”
“You two, I’ll be fine. I actually would prefer being alone right about now,” Deborah said.
“I don’t think so,” Natalie replied on the way to answer the door.
Ben Lawson stood with a worried expression on his face, holding a bouquet of flowers. “I think my timing sucks,” he said, whispering.
She shook her head. “Come on in,” she said holding the door open for him. “You’re timing is perfect. Sorry if we made you uncomfortable, though. Family altercation. Better to know what you’re headed for from the get-go, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “We can stay in,” he said, clearly having heard the exchange between them.
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “The others are going home, and I don’t feel right about leaving my daughter alone in the woods on the first night here.”
“No, I completely agree. I can run out and get dinner.”
“You will not! I’ll cook. I can, you know. Cook, that is. I’m not bad at preparing simple dishes.”
“Oh, I am definitely a simple guy. And I cook too, simple things, that is. We can do it together.”
“I’m excited!” Natalie said.
“You look lovely, by the way,” he said.
Natalie smiled at him and took a good look at his face. His teeth were nice and white but not fake white, like he’d had them whitened. And his hair was not dyed, she was sure of it. It was sandy, but it had a little grey running through it like someone his age, about fifty, would have.
“Why, thank you. Ben, this is my daughter, Deborah Phillips.”
Deborah stepped forward and took his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. The daughter was a smaller version of her mother, but he could see that she’d look like Natalie when she matured. Next, he saw the young man who’d been behind the wheel during the accident.
“Zach,” he said, reaching out to shake hands. “Deb’s boyfriend.”
They chatted for a minute, and then Zach apologized. “We’re going back to the city now, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to load up the car.”
Next, Ashton ran through the living room and out of the cabin without saying anything, but Natalie could tell he was crying. Ted came down next. He went to Ben and introduced himself, apologizing for rushing off. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon. We need to get back to the city. Have a good night.” He kissed Deborah, gave Natalie a shoulder squeeze again and walked out. It was as if a purge had taken place as the atmosphere immediately calmed down.
“Families are exhausting,” Natalie said.
Ben laughed out loud. “Yes, they surely are.”
“You’re excluded,” she said to Deborah.
“You, too. Now what are we making for dinner?”
They searched through the supplies Ashton brought from the city, finding the makings for beef stroganoff and roast turkey. They opted for beef stroganoff because it was quicker.
“Ashton’s precious mushrooms,” Deborah said, laughing, taking them out of the refrigerator.
Natalie gave Ben a bottle of wine to open while she and Deborah prepped the meal, the three of them laughing and drinking what Ashton provided.
“Toast of thanks to Ashton for this delicious wine,” Deborah said, holding her glass up.
“To Ashton,” Natalie said. They clinked wine glasses with Ben.
“To Ashton, whoever he is,” Ben said.
“He was the guy who made the dramatic exit,” Deborah said. “My father’s husband.”
“Oh,” Ben said, nodding. “He left in a hurry.”
“The walk of shame,” Deborah said.
Natalie snickered. “I’m afraid it’s my fault.”
“Shame on you, Mother,” Deborah said.
Ben laughed again. “I guess I’m glad I don’t know what happened.”
Ben Lawson felt at home. Relaxed and happy, and in the company of someone he’d waited for all of his life: an unpretentious, voluptuous, unencumbered mature woman.
Later than evening, Zach sent a text message to Deborah. I’m beat so going to bed. Ashton is insane, by the way. On the trip home, he screamed so loudly that Ted slapped him across the face, and he started sobbing. I was worried that he might need hospitalization in the psych wing, but Ted said he just needed to “get his shit together”.
Deborah rested in bed, thinking about everything that had happened that afternoon. No matter how crazy things got with Ashton, she was still grateful to have discovered her birth parents. She was beholden to the Phillips for having raised her, but wished she could cut off the relationship with them. Every second she spent with her adoptive family was forced. She only did so out of a sense of obligation. Beverly Phillips was a lovely woman, a generous and giving soul. For her sake, Deborah would stay in contact. Her relationship with Ted and Natalie transcended anything she could have ever hoped. If Ashton was the counterirritant, she would just accept him. It was worth it to stay in a relationship with Ted.
Her phone rang; it was Ted. “Honey, I am so sorry about Ashton’s behavior today. There’s no excuse for it.”
Deborah had the first pang of guilt for causing their fight. “Dad, I understand Ashton. He’s jealous of my mother because they’ve become so close. And he resents me because I’m yours, and he didn’t bargain for that when you two got married.” As she spoke the words, their ludicrousness was so obvious, she couldn’t believe he’d buy it, and she was right.
“Thank you for trying, Deb.” He wanted to say more to her, but loyalty to Ashton was powerful, no matter how reprehensible his behavior was. “So how’s your mother’s date going?”
“I think it’s going well,” Deborah replied. “We made dinner together, and now they’re talking. If things get too quiet out there, I open and close a door.”
Ted laughed. “You keep an eye on things, okay? Let’s talk tomorrow.” They said goodnight and ended the call.
She closed her eyes, listening to the drone of voices coming from the living room, the occasional change in pitch as someone laughed. An owl outside hooted, and a faraway dog barked. Two more days of rest before starting a job hunt, she planned to stay in the cabin reading a pile of novels carted in from the city and little else.
Chapter 12
Brent Smith was crammed into his window seat in economy, on a flight from Los Angeles to New York, because he’d waited until the last second to buy his ticket home. The plane was late, last-minute boarders streaming on in a never-ending line up of travelers. The woman seated in the middle seat of his row finally arrived, making the guy on the end have to get up to let her in. The shuffling of belongings commenced as she wedged herself in. He fought the urge to smell her; any female scent went straight to his crotch.
His mother had enforced the trip. Hoping to get out of attending the annual Memorial Day picnic at the beach, Pam held the trust fund over his head yet again as the motivator to get him to listen and obey. Also worried that Julie might have told Pam more than was necessary about their breakup, he thought he might need to do damage control while he was back east.
The pilot announced they were finally next in line for take off. Brent immediately relaxed as the jet barreled down the runway. Too much effort required to get his tablet out and the magazine in the front not interesting enough to read, like an adolescent, Brent’s thoughts went to sex. He’d get to the bathroom, jerk off, and maybe that would relax him enough that he could sleep the rest of the trip.
“Sorry, I need to get up,” he said to the woman next to him. He took a quick look at her; she didn’t appeal to him at all. Unattractive and of indeterminate age, she was too thin and had a bad complexion.
“Why didn’t you go before we took off?” she asked, annoyed.
He wanted to
spit at her, but ignored the question. She elbowed the man on the end, and he stood in the aisle so they could get out. When the woman stood up, her ass was right about at Brent’s nose level. He held his breath again. He flashed the biggest smile he could muster and walked to the back of the plane, where the lavatories were.
He wasn’t in there for two seconds when there was a soft tap on the door. He opened it a crack, and his seatmate squeezed in. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked stupidly. He was smashed up against the wall in the tiny space.
She meant business. “Take your pants down, and sit on the lid,” she whispered. “I hope you showered this morning.”
“I didn’t,” he said quickly. It would mean a change of plans. She shrugged.
“Okay, what the hell.” She unzipped her trousers and worked them over her hips, her bush at eye level right in his face. He looked away as she turned around in the small space, not wanting to have to view her ass if he could help it, imagining it covered in the same pimples that covered her chin. She reached down, her back to him, and grabbed his penis, ensuring it was hard, and then she sat on him. That was all it took. He muffled his face in her back, trying not to smell her shirt that had lingered in the washing machine too long and had a slight mildew smell, but not bad enough to keep him from coming.
When it was over, she got up, grabbed a handful of paper toweling, and rammed it in between her legs. “Hurry up and get out so I can clean up,” she said. They struggled to switch positions, and when he was nearest the door, he opened it. Of course, the flight attendant was outside, watching Brent trying to get out without exposing the woman.
“Only one person at a time in the lavatories,” she said.
“Where’s that written?” the woman asked over Brent’s shoulder.
Brent said, “Excuse me.” He maneuvered around them, the passengers in the area unaware of what had happened. He wanted to clean up, too, but rather than have to risk talking to the woman again, he walked to the lavatory at the front of the plane to wash up. He was grossed out by her, and used the foamy soap from the wall dispenser liberally. He got back before she returned, quickly getting into his seat, put his head up against the window, and went to sleep. An hour later, she still wasn’t back, and he woke up, stretching as much as he could.
“Where’d she go?” he asked the man in the aisle seat.
“They had an empty seat in back, so she moved,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder.
Brent muffled a sigh of relief and put his head back; he’d sleep the rest of the way to New York.
By the time Brent landed in New York, things had picked up at the beach. Misdemeanor Ed had returned with his parents, and Pam’s sisters had promised to keep their children in line and show respect for their aged mother so they could stay there for the picnic. Bernice was awake and holding court on the veranda, talking to the Fords about the wonderful days they used to spend at the mansion on Columbus Avenue. Big Ed, a history buff, hung on every word, and having a truly interested listener energized Bernice. Pam whispered to Nelda that she couldn’t remember the last time she saw Bernice so animated.
Dan came in from work, and Pam kept him company while he got ready to face the family. “This is the last time I’m having everyone for the entire weekend. By Monday when I need to be ready for a hundred guests, I’ll be sick of entertaining.” To herself, she thought it was just too much work without Jack and Marie. They might not lift a finger, but they’d be there, herding guests and keeping people occupied.
“My sisters have talked of nothing else all week,” Dan said. “It’s ‘what are you going to wear, and oh, you can’t wear that, and let’s go shopping.’”
Pam laughed. “I remember my mother saying that the only reason she had any ‘dress up’ clothes was because of the weddings they were invited to. An invitation is a motivator to shop. I do the same thing with the house. I still say I have to repair or repaint in time for Memorial Day.” She lay on her side on the bed, watching him buckle his watch around his wrist.
“So, tell me about my son-in-law,” Pam said softly in case someone was lingering outside of the door.
“He’s in trouble,” Dan said, glancing over at her. “There’s a real chance he will lose his teaching license, and if the charges are dropped, he may still lose his job. His school district is extremely cautious after the last sex snafu. If you remember the news, a female teacher charged with inappropriate sexual contact with a student committed suicide. They have a zero-tolerance policy, hoping to prevent anything else like that from happening again.”
“Oh, how awful. I don’t remember. I must have been caught up in my own problems.”
“It was about the time Jack died. I don’t know what to say about Ed. He thinks he has a mental illness, and the parents concur. Lisa is livid because ‘she’s the last to know’. I’m not sure it will make any difference in a court of law, but he needs to seek help regardless.”
Pam was shocked. “Does it have anything to do with him leaving the priesthood? I’d still like to know what was behind that decision.”
“I have a feeling he was hiding there. But no proof, of course. He’s about as unenlightened as they come. The idea that he diagnosed himself is pretty amazing,” Dan said. He turned from the mirror and walked over to her. He scanned her from head to foot.
“You’re pretty tantalizing, stretched out on the bed. Do we have to be out there right now?”
“What did you have in mind?” Pam asked. She never let him get away with hints. If he wanted her, he was going to have to work at it. Just the opposite of her and Jack, she thought sadly.
“Well, I thought I could undress you first. I would pull your panties down as slowly as I could, kissing your body. When you’re naked, I’d caress your lovely breasts, and maybe after I did that for a while, you’d let me kiss you in between those luscious thighs. And then if this corny speech didn’t make you throw up, I would make love to you.”
Pam burst out laughing. “Oh, okay. I guess you could do that,” she answered. “Thank you for taking the time to let me know, but no, I don’t have the time right now, and neither do you.”
Dan was laughing, too. “That’s awful,” he said. “Make a man talk all mushy and then shut him down.”
“I recorded it, too,” she said, teasing.
“Well, I’ll deny it was me,” Dan answered. “From now on I’m disguising my voice.” He reached for her hand and pulled her off the bed.
“Next year, I’m going to be busy planting during your damn picnic.”
“Yes, I think I’ll be helping you. This has definitely run its course.”
They walked out together and greeted the house full of family one more time.
Dan was pouring wine for a crowd on the veranda, including newcomer Jeff Babcock and his partner, Richard. Seeing his friend Jeff made the hassles of the picnic worth it.
Pam was back in the kitchen, pulling trays of hors d’oeuvres out of the refrigerator, removing the plastic wrap. It was the last food she’d be serving until the big picnic the next day, and she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. She was thinking about how much her attitude had changed from the years she and Jack had the picnic, when every task she did was an act of worship to him, compared with now, where all she could think of was how wonderful it would be when everyone was gone tomorrow night.
Gladys Ford came in and asked if she could help.
“Thank you so much! You are the only person here besides my eighty-year-old mother who has offered to lift a finger.”
Gladys, flustered and flattered, stuttered a reply, until a knock on the door caught Pam’s attention.
“Save that thought, dear,” Pam said and went to answer. It was Brent.
“Oh, Brent!” she cried. “How wonderful to see you.”
Pam forgot her resolve to investigate the stories Julie had told her about her beloved son as they grabbed each other and hugged. Brent felt safe for the first time in weeks. A little worry floated throug
h Pam as she hugged her son, feeling his bones through his clothes, noticing he wasn’t fresh smelling, his hair greasy, and breath reeking of cigarettes.
“Where’s my sister?” he said, dragging his carryall inside the house, looking around the familiar space, at all the people on the veranda, and he smiled. It was just like old times.
“I think she’s in the bedroom with Megan. Your room is all ready for you.”
They walked side by side, Brent’s arm around his mother, to the children’s wing.
“Bubby and Noni are in Marie’s old room, just an FYI,” Pam said.
“Is Father Ford with Lisa?”
Pam frowned. “I’m not sure. Let’s find out.”
They knocked on Lisa’s door, and she called, “Come in.”
Pam let Brent go through first. Lisa screamed with delight, Megan startling, but not crying. When Pam could see they would be okay, she quietly shut the door. Those two would tell each other the important stuff and, hopefully, come back and report to her.
Chapter 13
After Zach parked the Hummer, said goodbye, and walked to his own car, Ted could no longer hide his anger. It was all he could do not to push Ashton through the door of the apartment building or into the elevator. As they rode up the floors, he realized he was almost snorting through his nostrils, he was breathing so heavily. Every five seconds or so, Ashton would either sigh or sob. The scene in the car where Ted slapped his face was fresh in both their minds. They’d crossed a point of no return in their relationship, something they couldn’t ignore. They had to address it and deal with it right away.
Although his emotions swung from one extreme to the next, one moment loving her with all his heart and the next moment not, right now Ashton hated Ted’s daughter. There was no getting around it. Deborah’s existence brought out the worst in Ashton. He was jealous of her for so many reasons: what she represented, the union of Ted and Natalie, her looks and personality, even her intellect. She was smarter than Ashton was. She commanded and demanded respect. And the most important, she was a woman.
The Tao of Pam: Pam of Babylon Book # 6 Page 13
