In Memoriam (8 page)

“Burn it,” she answered.

The quality Ashton had of ridding himself of unnecessary personal items in the apartment didn’t carry over to his warehouse contents. The day after June and Frank Hageman returned to Florida, Natalie and Deborah accompanied Ted to the first storage facility, this one located in the Bronx. Deborah was going to be the recorder, and she’d brought a pen and notebook to start taking inventory. But when they walked in through the side door, the enormity of what they were faced with hit them.

“Oh, my God. Are you fucking kidding me?” Natalie’s arms dropped at her side, mouth agape.

“Remember, this is one of four,” Ted said.

“We need to furnish homes for poor people,” Deborah said.

“To hell with that,” Ted replied. “After everyone takes what they want, we’re having an auction. We might all be able to retire on the proceeds. Ashton said he owned hundreds of items stashed away, representing every style period in American history from Colonial to retro to space age to current.”

“Let’s not get defeated already, folks,” Deborah said, interested. “This is a viable business.”

“You’re going to have to hire someone to come in and inventory all this crap,” Natalie said.

“Wait,” Deborah said. “It’s barcoded.” She pointed to a grouping of items, and sure enough, everything had a label.

They went from aisle to aisle as Ted gained a new respect for Ashton the businessman and experienced his first regret; he wished he could compliment Ashton on the organization of such a vast collection of stuff.

“Okay, well, if he’s got everything inventoried, where’s the paper?”

“He must have an office in here somewhere,” Ted said.

Confused, Natalie wondered what was going on. How could Ted be married to someone and have no idea how he conducted his business? “Did he go off to work every day?” she asked.

“No, not really. He had appointments. He’d go to look at a space, determine what would compliment it and then have pickers go through the warehouses to gather the items. I guess they must have had barcode readers.”

“Wow, I’m so sorry I didn’t spend some time doing this with him. It’s pretty fascinating,” Deborah said.

“He kept his business pretty close to the cuff,” Ted said. “I don’t think he wanted me to know how much stuff he had. When he said four warehouses, I was thinking storage units. Not four 10,000-square-foot buildings.”

“Come over here for a minute,” Deborah called. She stepped out into the aisle again so they could see her. She’d discovered a file cabinet loaded with papers and receipts. “I think I hit pay dirt. It looks like his inventory records.”

They each took a file folder and started leafing through it.

“He was very organized,” Natalie said. “At the top of each receipt, he has a stock number. It looks like he used a simple system with the item type, a number for the building it’s in, and if it’s out in a project or housed in the warehouse.

“We’ll have to figure out what projects he’s working on. Ted, did he use a computer for this? If it’s all paper, he must have a current jobs folder somewhere, and I don’t see one here.”

“Maybe in your office at home?” Deborah asked gently.

Ted didn’t know. He wasn’t interested in Ashton’s work and zoned out when he tried talking about it. Getting a glimmer of why having Natalie and Deborah in his life had become so important to him, Ted slipped further into depression.

“Let’s go back to his apartment,” Ted replied. “I’ll go on the computer and hopefully find what we need there.”

“Wait one second,” Natalie said. She’d found a stack of transparent shoeboxes with lids that appeared to be filled with videotapes, the old-fashioned VHS kind. “I bet this is Ashton’s version of Home and Garden TV.”

“Bring them along,” Ted said. He was anxious to leave, the atmosphere oppressive in the extreme. He had so much regret. Maybe the things Ashton said about not respecting him were true. Ted didn’t really know Ashton; that was the problem. And of course, now it was too late.

The women each picked up several shoeboxes, he grabbed what looked like one of the primary file folders, and they left the building. Ted didn’t know how many people had keys, but he planned to have the locks changed right away.

“Are we going to the next warehouse? He has another here in the Bronx and two in Queens,” Deborah said.

“No, do you mind if we stop for now? I’ve had enough for one day.”

They would go back to Ashton’s Upper East Side apartment and, in relative splendor, discover that the shoeboxes contained not interior design videos, but raunchy pornographic films. Some of it shot through a window screen, in a slit in a drape, or from a parked car window, a zoom lens got closer and closer until it breached the privacy of the room. The male was never identified, but Ted had a pretty good idea it was Jack. The
victims
were always women who appeared to be unaware they were being videotaped.

Although they didn’t watch more than a few seconds of the films in one box, it was enough to know that Ashton was either into some sick voyeurism or he was stashing the tape away for Jack. It angered Ted and made him lose what little reasoning he’d garnered since the funeral. But mostly, he was embarrassed in front of his daughter and Natalie.

“Well, I guess that about sums it up,” he said.

“I don’t think it had anything to do with Ashton. I mean, we don’t need to go through all the film, but I’m willing to bet he isn’t in any of it,” Natalie said. She was trying so hard to be the voice of reason, but she wasn’t convinced.

“Why? He was in a relationship with Jack for all his life, until the man died. It feels like something he’d take part in.”

“Maybe now isn’t the time to bring this up,” Natalie said. “But Ash told me Jack did it to keep his women in line. Those were the words he used. If anyone threatened him or tried to engage Pam, the photos were pulled out.”

“But those aren’t photos,” Ted said. “I think he just got off doing it.”

“Maybe,” Natalie said. “What difference does it make why he did it? The guy was a sick fuck.”

“Yes, he certainly was, and the love of my life was involved with him for forty years. What does that say about Ashton?”

There was no answer to his question. Natalie had seen Ashton in action; she knew what he was capable of.

“What are you going to do with this stuff?” Deborah said.

“I’m not sure,” Ted answered. “I still have all that crap June Hageman told me to burn. I just couldn’t do it. It’s history of the man, whether it’s vile or not.”

Natalie got up to stretch. “Well, I am going downtown to my apartment. I won’t be going back up to the cabin, I guess. What do you think, Deb?”

“No, it’s definitely lost something, but maybe just temporarily.”

Ted shook his head. “He’s ruined that for us, too. I am so goddamned mad.”

They nodded their heads.

“Yes, let’s go,” Natalie said, reaching for his hand. “You have too many decisions to make to sit around here moping all afternoon.”

The three of them went back to Natalie’s apartment to try to help Ted sort out his life.

Ted and Natalie would stay downtown for the rest of the summer, and Natalie would go back and forth to the cabin upstate to be closer to her boyfriend, Zach. In September, they made the decision that they would live together as a family, and so far, it was working out wonderfully.

Chapter 8

It took Pam and Sandra twenty minutes to figure out how to pull the third row of seats up in the back of Pam’s SUV. They had just enough places for all of them to travel to Lisa’s together. Bernice sat in front with Pam, Nelda and Miranda sat in the next row, and Sandra and baby Brent in the back. Pam looked in the rearview mirror at Sandra perched up in the seat, checking the baby’s car seat, the contraption a nightmare to secure.

Pam knew she would be doing some mental work in the coming days. Once again, she’d had no inkling that Brent was having an affair with Sandra. Nothing. Not a hint of it. Trying to remember what Sandra’s response had been when Pam told her the news about Brent’s murder, she was sure Sandra went into shock, as any close friend would upon hearing such horrible news.

Chatting amicably during the ride, Pam pulled up to the front of Lisa’s house. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway, and her heart did a little bounce when she saw it, the urge to pull away from the curb and keep driving strong.
Stop being so selfish
, she thought.

“Here we are,” she announced.

Sandra strained forward to see out the window; the house was fabulous, elegant and expansive. She wondered if Pam had paid for it. Turning to get the baby out of his seat, she realized she was nervous. Did Pam tell Lisa about baby Brent’s paternity? She’d ask as soon as she got out of the car.

They made an interesting procession up the slate walkway to the front door, with Bernice and Nelda leading, Sandra holding onto Miranda’s hand, and Pam carrying the baby. Gladys waited at the open door, with Megan on her hip as usual.

“Lisa and the baby are sleeping, but they should be up soon. Come in,” she said. “I have coffee and a snack in the kitchen.”

They trailed behind her into the spacious kitchen. It took several minutes to get the children secure in their seats and the baby propped up on the counter before they could focus on each other.

“Well congratulations, all of you,” Gladys said. “Two new babies. It’s so exciting.”

Pam thought how generous she was being and decided to just swallow her anger at Dan and return the kindness. Before long, the bitterness and pain fell away, and she was sincerely enjoying talking to Gladys again.

When she had a chance, Sandra whispered to Pam, “Did you tell Lisa about the baby?” She nodded her head toward Brent.

But Pam shook her head. “No, I thought I’d let you tell her.”

Sandra frowned. She hated drama, yet seemed to be the creator of much of it. It would have been so much easier if Pam had just told Lisa when they were on the phone together.

“I’m no good at this sort of thing,” Sandra complained.

“You didn’t have any trouble telling me,” Pam said with a raised eyebrow. “Just blurt it out when the spirit moves you.”

Sandra couldn’t help herself; embarrassed, a giggle popped out of her mouth. “Okay, I got it.” She’d be on her own. But it was important to her that this baby be placed in the family hierarchy, so she’d make sure to tell Lisa as soon as possible.

In a few minutes, Lisa appeared with baby Marcus in her arms. “Have you been here long?”

“We just arrived,” Pam said, going to her. “Did you get a nap?”

“I did. About an hour, wouldn’t you say, Mum?”

Gladys nodded. If Pam minded Lisa using the term of endearment to Gladys, she didn’t show it.

“Let’s look at that hair again,” she said, surprising herself.

Lisa pulled the blanket back and exposed his black hair for everyone to see.

“Take a look at this, Sandra.”

“Hi, Sandra, I didn’t see you back there,” Lisa said. “Let’s see your little one. Do you call him Tommy?”

Pam stayed back while Lisa walked to the table where baby Brent sat propped up in his car seat.

“Oh my God! He looks exactly like Megan did when she was a baby.” Lisa cooed over the baby, holding on to Marcus, mesmerized by this other baby. She looked at Miranda.

“Does baby Miranda like her little brother? You know, he looks enough like Miranda to be her natural brother. Isn’t life funny?”

Pam watched her daughter make these few connections, back and forth between her daughter and cousin Miranda, who were related, and this new baby, who shouldn’t be, yet looked enough like the others to be siblings. But Lisa was truly an innocent and didn’t get it. No one spoke as Lisa handed Marcus off to Gladys.

“Can I hold him?”

Sandra nodded her head, breathing shallowly, afraid to move.

All eyes were on Lisa as she struggled to unbuckle her nephew out of his car seat. “Hey, little guy, look at those cheeks? You call him Tommy?” she repeated. This time Lisa looked up at Sandra, who was silent.

“Sandra, what do you call him?”

“She calls him Brent,” Nelda answered.

Lisa frowned. “Aw, that’s awfully sweet, but we were actually thinking about calling
Marcus
Brent. We were waiting to get everyone here to get Mom’s approval.” Lisa looked at Pam. “What do you think?”

Pam put her hand to her mouth and gave a little nod of her head.

“
My
son is Brent’s baby,” Sandra finally said softly. “He looks like Megan and Miranda because he has the same genes.”

Lisa stopped fussing with the straps. Her body language spoke volumes as she stepped back, looking down at the baby. He was awake, jamming his fists in his mouth. Pam could see Jack in him from across the room.

“You’re kidding, right?” Lisa said. A flush had worked its way up her neck and across her cheeks. “My brother got you pregnant. Just like that.”

“Not exactly, not
just like that
,” Sandra said, trying desperately not to sound defensive. She knew what she said now would be the story she’d stick with for the rest of her life, the story that the baby would grow up knowing, that might shape the way he felt about himself and his father’s family. It would squeeze virtuous lies out of the whole, ugly truth. “We just connected on his first visit back after he and Julie broke up. It wasn’t premeditated; it simply happened.”

Lisa picked up Megan and went to Gladys. “Mum, let’s trade kids, okay? I’m not sure how much comprehension we have going on here,” she said, handing Megan off and taking Marcus in her place. “Noni, will you and Bernice excuse us? Keep an eye out for Miranda? Come with me, Mom and Sandra, if you’d please.”

Pam hid her pleasure at Lisa’s take-charge demeanor. Either she’d learned from her mother’s mistakes or her character was developing. In any event, Pam forgot for just a second that she had every reason in the world to be sad. She couldn’t wait to hear what Lisa would say.

Sandra and Pam followed Lisa down a narrow stairway into an older part of the house. The den was formerly a television room Ed had used. Pam had no way of knowing it was also where Dan and Lisa had sex for the first time a year before, with Ed sleeping in the room above.