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Future scenarios ran through her head; Laura calling her to tell her Jake was dead, or him asking for her when he was on his deathbed. She just couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to trust. “Double damn!”
Back out in the public rooms of the house, she let her pride in her home soothe her soul. This was her house, and it was ready, once again, to receive guests. Hocus had outdone herself; the table setting was beautiful for being a spur-of-the-moment thing with only hours to prepare. The silver shone in the sunlight, paired with priceless Limoges and crystal glasses.
Adding finishing touches to the table, white roses and carnations, Pam was satisfied. Jack would be proud. He was in the back of her mind today again; this was for him, after all. She had nothing to do with Bertram Albert. It was always for Jack. And now with Jake’s hurtful change of behavior, she could feel herself slipping back into old habits, old mindsets.
“I’m happy with the way this turned out,” Hocus said, bringing in a silver creamer and sugar bowl.
“Why am I doing this?” Pam asked, looking at the table.
“Because this is your way,” Hocus said. “Anyone else would throw a bunch of crap from Organic Bonanza on the table.”
“Ha! The food is coming from there, Hocus.”
“You know what I mean. Dave’s stale crap from the café. This is class.You’reclass. It never matters who comes here, you always treat them like honored guests.”
“Okay, well, I guess I feel better about it, thank you. And my sister is taking over the bakery and the café, so the food there should look up soon. Dan’s coming, by the way. He wants an introduction.”
“Dan’s a wild man,” Hocus said. “I’m glad he dumped that racist baker. She’s awful.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t hear it from me,” Pam said, grimacing. “I feel bad for Adam!”
“I’m surprised she messed with him, because he’s the boss.”
“I’m worried about my family right now. One big mouth and everyone could end up in jail, and we’d be overrun with kids.”
“I’d have to move back to the Bronx. I don’t like kids generally.”
“Oh jeez, Hocus, don’t tell me that.”
“I hear a car out front,” Hocus said, listening.
Pam looked at her watch. “I bet it’s the food.”
The doorbell rang, and they went to answer. There was Sam, Mary’s husband and co-owner of Organic Bonanza, with a helper, each carrying huge boxes.
“Come in, Sam,” Pam said, stepping aside. “Follow Hocus, please.”
The next minutes went by in the flurry, unpacking delectable sandwiches and miniature pastries, just like Mary had promised. The doorbell rang again.
“Perfect timing,” Pam said. “I’ll get the door.”
Steeling herself, she had no idea what to expect, and it certainly wasn’t what she saw when she opened the door. There were the two beautiful young women flanking a woman Pam knew to be older than she was by at least ten years, but so glamorous and perfectly made up, she could have been a much younger movie star.
“Mrs. Smith, hello! This is our mom, Beverly.”
She stepped aside for them to enter, and the flurry of introductions proceeded, with Beverly Johnson explaining the events leading up to that day.
“After Jack died, I just let the adventure go, but my girls here got on the genealogy bandwagon, and that’s why we’re at this place.”
“Hopefully, it will be a good experience for you. I’m in the one-day-at-a-time mode, to tell you the truth. We’ll just have to see how it unfolds.”
“I agree completely,” Beverly said.
“Did you ever meet with Jack?” Pam asked.
“Yes,” she replied, surprised. “He didn’t mention it?”
“No, not a word. I discovered your letter after Jack died.”
