Page 53

Everybody Knows

Pam backed her van up to the Goodwill donation door, and when the three young men saw how full the vehicle was, they blew out breaths. She stood to the side as boxes holding thirty-year-old wedding gift china and bridal shower cookware were carted into the building.

So much stuff.

George Carlin had a great routine about stuff. How you spend the first part of your life accumulating it—the herb muddler you thought you’d use regularly, or the cornucopia horn that sits in a closet for fifty weeks of the year—and then you spend the last part of your life ditching it all. Marlene told them not to bring a thing. She’d bought everything new and didn’t want one chipped platter, sentimental silver spoon, or tattered towel in her condo. Even Claire didn’t want Pam’s crap.

So here it was. Boxed and donated. The guys started to pull out the clear bags full of clothing, tossing them to each other like a relay chain.

“Wait!”

Pam called. “Sorry. That one. Can I see that one, just for a sec?”

The teen leaned the bag against the wall and Pam pried open the knot. She dug down through Hank’s shorts and T-shirts until her fingers brushed familiar, heavy cotton. She dragged Hank’s worn sweatshirt through the crush and brought it to her cheek. She breathed in, hard, for a moment, and then set the shirt gently on the backseat of her van, climbed in, and put the key in the ignition.

“Hey, Pam! Yoo-hoo! Is that you, Pam? Pam Montgomery!”

Pam whispered under her breath, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

She glanced at her dog, curled up on the passenger seat. “Better buckle up, Elmer. This ride could get rocky.” She pasted on a smile and turned to face Sabrina Cuomo as she approached the driver’s window. The coolest mom who loomed over her during her daughter’s school years and was now decked out in head-to-toe linen with her face shaded by a wide-brimmed straw hat, extra-large gold hoops dangling from her ears. Sabrina leaned against Pam’s van window, her Cartier gold-and-diamond love bracelets clanging up against her Apple watch.

“Sabrina! Hi! How are you?”

Kill her with kindness and get rid of her.

“I’m fabulous.”

Then her smile turned upside down to a pout and her bracelets jangled as she reached out to pat Pam’s arm. “How are youuuu? You’ve been through soooo much. You’re here shopping? At the thrift store. You poooor thing.”

“I’m actually making a donation.”

“Of course you are.”

Sabrina scanned the interior. Pam was sure she was looking for purchases, and Pam was grateful it had been too hot to leave Elmer in the car, otherwise she might well have had a whole new, discounted wardrobe stuffed into the backseat. Sabrina moved to the next item on her agenda. “I hear you’re leaving. You’re all moving in with Marlene. Well, we’ll miss you. But you know what they say: things always work out for the best. Anyhoo. I’m sure you gals will love Florida—”

Pam stared straight ahead a moment and watched a young couple navigate the sidewalk while she digested that. She tilted her head, then turned to squint at Sabrina. “I find it hard to understand how my husband being killed in a horrific boat explosion could be things working out for the best.”

Sabrina squinched her face into what Pam bet she imagined to be her sympathetic look and rubbed Pam’s arm. Then she said, “Pam. Everybody knows.”

Pam shook off Sabrina’s hand and crossed her arms. She pivoted in her seat to better face her. “Knows what, Sabrina?”

There were so many things to know. What exactly did Sabrina know?

Sabrina lowered her chin and spoke as though she were soothing a child. “We know you’re broke. We know you said you were downsizing all those years ago, but face it, Pam. Everybody knows you and Hank had money problems.”

She moved to pat Pam’s arm but then withdrew her hand. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Pam. Some husbands aren’t good providers, like my Gene. At least now you have a second chance. You still have some of your looks.” Sabrina glanced downward. “You still have great legs. Now you can find someone better.”

Pam blinked as she tried to hold Sabrina’s gaze. Everybody knows. Her heart hit the inside of her chest. Someone better. But everybody didn’t know everything. They didn’t know Hank masterminded stealing nine million dollars. They didn’t know he faked his death. They didn’t know he gave up that money to save her. Granted, she had to threaten he’d be killed first, but still, he gave up the money for her. That’s the kind of man Hollywood makes movies about. What would Sabrina say about that? What was it Hank always said? Right. Offense is the best defense.

“Sabrina, you let on like your husband is self-made, that he’s some investment whiz, but everybody knows you got your money when he found vermin in his burger. He sued Big Bobby Lew’s and settled out of court. Your cleaning lady told everybody. And she thinks he planted that mouse tail. That’s right—she found the tail-less body.”

Sabrina looked like she’d been slapped. Good. “So shut your face. You don’t know anything about Hank. My Hank was something else. And I would take my Hank without a penny to his name, over your douchebag Gene any day of the week.” Pam started the ignition. “Who cuts tails off dead mice? Ew.” She put her van in gear and drove the hell out of there.

Dusk was falling as she passed the casino and her pulse returned to normal. She slowed down as the streetlights came on and took a sharp right down a street she usually avoided. Elmer sat in the passenger seat, with his head on the armrest.

“Why don’t you hang your head out the window like other dogs?”

Pam asked.

He pointed his nose toward the air-conditioning vent.

“Ah. Sure. Makes sense.”

Pam pulled to a stop in front of the pretty, colonial home and turned the engine off. The boxwoods had finally reached the height Pam had hoped for when she’d planted them. Window boxes and a basketball hoop had been added since she had last been here, the day they moved out. The living room light was on. The fireplace had been painted white, and it looked elegant.

She sat in the quiet and listened to the crickets, like she used to, on a night like this, in the backyard, beside her pool. She breathed in the night air and could almost feel the warm water rush over her. How she missed this tranquility. A mosquito buzzed her ear. Another bit her cheek. And then her neck. She swatted her forehead. Then her arm. And her ankle. Her other ear. She turned the car back on and put the windows up.

“I’m done, Elmer.”

His ears perked up.

“I’m done being mad and sad. It’s only money, Elmer. It’s only fucking money. So I don’t have any anymore. Or a husband. I don’t know why he left me behind, but he did. It’s time to move on. I’ve got my health. I’ve got my friends. I’ve got a daughter and a grandchild on the way. Apparently, I’ve still got great legs. And I’ve got you.”

She took one more look at her old house. It was smaller than she remembered.

“From now on, Elmer, we’re only looking forward. Deal?”

She reached over and squeezed his paw, put the van in gear, pulled into the road, and didn’t look back.