Free Pam of Babylon by Suzanne Jenkins

respond. She just nodded her head. “His office was always a disaster. Books and papers piled on the floor, file folders sliding off his desk, junk like radios, gifts for you and the kids, just chaos. So yes, this is surprising.” She laughed. Pam offered her a seat.
    “His cupboards are bare,” she said. “I can offer you a banana. It is the only thing in the house to eat.”
    “I feel a little claustrophobic. Do you have time for lunch?” Sandra said. Pam nodded yes.
    “I have to call home first. I left without telling them I was coming here, and this phone has been ringing all morning.” Pam excused herself and went into the bedroom and dialed home. Lisa picked up.
    “Mom, I would have gone with you. Everyone is concerned here.”
    “Please tell them I am fine. I had some business to take care of, Lisa. I really wanted to be here, in the apartment, alone. I hope you understand. I’ll call you when I am on my way home.” They said goodbye, and Pam hung up. Lisa would be her advocate.
    She went into the bathroom and reapplied her lipstick for the third time that day.
    “This crying garbage has really taken a toll on my makeup,” she said. They left the apartment. Pam made small talk on the way down in the elevator, telling Sandra how they found the apartment. “We had a place on the Upper West Side when the kids were little. We loved it there. When we moved out onto the island, Jack wanted to be closer to work. We were eating dinner at the place in the basement here—Grendels, I believe it was called—and the man who owned the apartment was eating at the table next to us, eavesdropping on our conversation. ‘I just heard you say you like this building. My apartment is for sale. Right here on the fifteenth floor,’ he said. Just like that. We went up to look after we finished dinner, and Jack bought it then and there. It’s not really close to his office, but closer than if he’d stayed on the Upper West Side.”
    Sandra smiled politely. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but was grateful Pam was keeping the conversation going. It would be easier to talk about important matters if they could keep talking. They stepped outside. It had stopped raining and the air was cool, the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. It would be a good day after all.
    Do you mind if we walk a while?” Pam asked. Sandra said, “No, that would be nice.” As they walked down Madison Avenue, passersby gave admiring glances at what they thought to be a lovely young woman and her mother. Both attractive, they got the same kind of attention that Jack and Sandra used to get. Pam didn’t notice.
    They arrived at a coffee shop and found a table for two at the window. Pam was starving. The waitress brought coffee and menus. Usually a light eater, she ordered a burger and fries. Sandra got a salad.
    “I haven’t had a burger in years. My husband died, so I guess I can eat a burger if I want.” She looked up at Sandra. “That was tacky, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” she said.
    “Don’t give it another thought,” Sandra said, thinking, how bizarre can this get?
    “I feel like I can be honest with you,” Pam said. “My family is waiting for me to fall apart or do something dramatic. I have to be careful what I say. Evidently, I fainted at the funeral home yesterday. Oh, yes, I was quite a spectacle.” She paused, careful about how she approached the next topic. “Evidently, the man who we thought was Jack’s father wasn’t his father at all. I found some documents that spelled it out in the apartment just now.” She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, looking over the rim at Sandra. “Did Jack ever mention that to you?”
    “No, but I knew that something life changing had taken place shortly after his father died. He kept saying things around the office like, ‘Make sure you know who your parents really are,’ and ‘I wonder if we are related,’ to one of the black men who