Pam of Babylon Read Online Free PDF Page A

He stayed on the treadmill for half an hour. She estimated he ran three miles. And later, questioning him, she found she was right. He was still fast.
    That afternoon, both home from the gym and showered, he in his study going through some papers and she gathering up items for a rummage sale her book club was having, passed each other in the hall, brushing arms. He paused, looking down at her. She smiled up at him. She could smell the deodorant he used, a strong, herbal scent, and it went from her olfactory nerve to her crotch. It was the weirdest sensation; she could almost feel the pathway. She reached out for his arm and ran her hand down the length of it, feeling the soft, spongy hair; he reached for her hand when it came to stop on his wrist. They stood there, holding hands, smiling at each other.
    “So, wife, what do you say?” She was willing him to say something sexy to her, to proposition her, but he seemed unable or unwilling to do it. But what the heck, she was only punishing herself if she didn’t engage him.
    “I say we should hop into bed right now. You game?” She smiled again, looking up into his eyes, sticking her tongue out so the tip of it ran around the corners of her mouth.
    He let her lead the way to their bed. It was the lovemaking of two people who had been together all of their lives. It was slow, it was tender but at the end of it, it was explosive. He always remarked afterward, “Wow, for a couple of old people we can really hang one on.” She laughed. “You are such a romantic,” she would reply, and he would laugh. So if she was satisfied physically, and she always was, there was something lacking in the emotional end of it. They weren’t connecting any longer. There was no “I love you”. He didn’t comment about her appearance as he used to, no “God, you look good.” Now she understood why. He had betrayed her. She would try to find out later what had really happened, the depth of his feeling for this young, beautiful woman. Was it a new, superficial romance? She didn’t think so. But she wouldn’t waste one second thinking about it. She had no facts to back up her doubts.
    They sat in silence, the two sisters, one thinking about what she had seen that morning and wondering when the time would be right to tell the story or if she could get away with never revealing what she knew—that Jack had loved this young woman. You could see that from clear across Broadway.
    Finally, Pam spoke. Rather than speaking of the pain that had transpired that evening, she talked about how Marie had impacted their lives. There were two other sisters in their family, born between Marie and Pam, yet it was the two of them who would bond completely, as close as could be. Pam spoke of how she wouldn’t have survived her early marriage without the support of Marie, only ten years old at the time. She cried, inconsolable when Pam left home. She was promised that each weekend, every holiday, she could visit her big sister and new brother-in-law. And they kept that promise, either Jack or Pam taking a cab to pick her up or after the kids were born, Marie old enough to come alone.
    Pam remembered the excitement of having her baby sister coming to visit on a Friday night. They would walk to Big Nick’s or Broadway Pizza and then get ice cream afterwards. Saturdays would be spent doing crafts, either painting some piece of furniture Pam had found at a secondhand shop or knitting something for one of the babies due to arrive soon. They would walk in the park or find something free to do, a gallery opening or a concert. Saturday night was always movie night. Pam would fix dinner and they would watch whatever Marie wanted. Jack would take her to the video store, and they would spend at least an hour choosing a movie for the night and one for the next morning.
    On Sunday mornings, they fixed a big homemade breakfast. Pam made wonderful pancakes. They divided the Sunday paper between them and spent hours