Title: Pamela
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Blog Entry: March 12, 2015 PAMELA FROM THE PREVIOUS PAGE You struggle with my wealth and Dusty is very upset that I’m seeing you. You know, darling, we have to win her over if there is going to be any chance for us. But I will tell you one thing that will never give you cause to worry.” “My heart has taken a measure of you. I will never betray you.” **** Footsteps. A silly game, As a young child, Pamela had played that game with her Greek father, Markos Zacharias. Still, silly as it was, it was an important game that helped them measure her mother’s mood for the day. Listening to her mother’s light steps signaled she was reasonably happy and the Zacharias household could expect only a minimal number of crises during the day. Heavier steps promised a dark day with catastrophic events on the immediate horizon. Idolizing her father, on the dark days, Pamela would warn him that they needed to escape from her mother’s foul mood. She often fled to a sleepover with friends while her father worked in his office until he collapsed onto the couch from exhaustion. With coffee cup in hand, his secretary would sit with him the following morning, waiting patiently until the aroma of the traditional Greek coffee had wakened him. Why her parents had gotten married was a mystery Pamela never solved. Nor could she satisfactorily explain why her mother was a perpetually angry woman. Equally perplexing was why her father never saw the danger signals before they were married or the reason her mother had kept her maiden name. During her father’s rare unguarded moments, he had suggested to Pamela that he and her mother were very much in love when they first married. But everything changed when Victoria’s mother died in an auto accident. In failing health, her father, an oil baron and much older than his wife, had asked Victoria to become the family matriarch. An only child, Victoria accepted the challenge and worked tirelessly to represent the Sheffield name to the rich and famous in New York City and the political giants in the state capitol in Albany. Obsessed with her responsibilities, her marriage became a shadow of its former self. Equally so, she had no tolerance for any deviations from her expectations. Sitting at the breakfast table toying with her empty coffee cup, bare feet resting on the seat cushion, Pamela looked out at the city skyline and the East River. She casually considered the merits of replenishing her coffee. Sunday was her favorite day with its promise of rest and contentment. The memory of Seth kissing her goodnight added to the serenity of her moment. But a storm, called Victoria, was brewing and she knew it. Unlike previous times, her mother had failed to greet her when she returned home the previous evening. To prepare herself, Pamela elected to reinforce herself with a second cup. Cup filled, she had returned to the table when she heard footsteps behind her. They were heavy and pronounced. The day had begun. “Mother,” she said as she continued to look out at the skyline. Behind her, Victoria said briskly, “Pamela,” and proceeded to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Joining Pamela at the table with her tea, Victoria announced in an angry voice, “I had to hold Dusty last night until she quit crying and fell asleep. Pamela, it is completely unacceptable that you would put my granddaughter through this foolish game you’re playing. The man has no breeding or position. I—” Pamela slapped her feet onto the floor and set her coffee cup down hard onto the table. She refused to look at her mother as her back arched straight, her eyes glaring at the window. Momentarily distracted, Victoria refused to be deterred, despite Pamela’s outburst of anger. “Pamela, I must insist that you end this charade at once,” Victoria demanded. “Need I remind you that you’re a Sheffield?” Instinctively, Pamela slapped the table and jumped out of her chair. She glared at her mother who reeled from shock at her sudden movements. Pushing back against the chair, the teacup slipped out of Victoria’s hand, shattering on the glass table. Her voice flat, raw with anger, and threatening, Pamela said. “Stop. Not one more word, Mother. Not one.” Pamela wanted to hurtle her coffee cup onto the floor. She thought better of it knowing she’d have to clean it up. As if the chime clock next to the piano had stopped, there was not even a suggestion of sound as Victoria and Pamela glared at each other. Pamela felt a lifetime of anger and frustration had exploded, her lungs filled, her stomach tight. Alerted for immediate response, every nerve ending tingled. Enough was enough. It was time to take her life back. Squeezing her fists to regain control of herself, Pamela said bitterly,” I’ve listened to you all my life. No more. You yelled at Daddy for so many years that he finally gave up on you. He loved you and all you gave him were foul moods and ugly words. His ships sailed the world and you treated him as if he was incapable of making a rational decision.” “Then you started on me. You never were a mother to me. Just someone who told me what to do and when to do it. Any boy that I dated first had to pass your inspection. Was he good enough to date the daughter of a Sheffield? You picked my schools and courses of study. You even selected Craig as my husband. That was the only time I agreed with you. I loved him. Now you want to tell me how to raise my daughter and who I should love. “Damn you, Mother. I’ve had it with your self-righteous, sanctimonious attitude.” Victoria stood up, mouth open, her face consumed with rage. “Pamela, How dare you talk to—” Voice low to keep the fight away from Dusty asleep in her bedroom, Pamela snapped, “Shut up, Mother, and sit down. Just shut up. You’re going to listen to every word I have to say or you can pack your bags. How dare you walk in here and tell me I’m a terrible mother for seeing Seth.” Her eyes fixated, her expression sullen, Victoria gaped at Pamela. Slowly, she sat down, stunned at her daughter’s words, frightened at her anger. Pamela’s voice became even more strident. “I walked in on daddy so many times when he sat in his study, crying. You broke his heart. And the only reason he stayed with you was he promised he’d never leave me. No matter how bad you hurt him, he stayed for me. He said it gave him nightmares to think of you taking me away from him.” “When he was dying, he told me to get as far away from you as possible. He said it was my only hope to have a life.” Her voice indigent, her tone sarcastic, Victoria said, “Well, why then did you invite me back into your home three years ago?” “Because Craig was dead and I was hurting. And Dusty was terrified at what her father had done. She desperately needed stability back into her life. I thought you could help her.” Pamela was spent. Years of anger had expelled itself, leaving her exhausted. She sensed herself at a crossroad. Somehow, her mother, Dusty, and Seth fit into a puzzle. She wasn’t sure how to put the pieces together. Dusty. There had to be some room in the volatile mix between her and her mother for Dusty. Despite her mother’s shortcomings, and there were many, Pamela thought, Dusty needed her grandmother. As if scripted, Victoria advanced to the window overlooking the park while Pamela continued her survey of the Manhattan skyline. Pamela realized that too many years and words had passed between her and her mother for any meaningful reconciliation between them. Tolerance of each other was perhaps the best that they could achieve in their relationship. A toilet flushed. Dusty was up, and momentarily, would be expected to enter. For Dusty’s. sake, Pamela had to cover over the ugly fissure that had split her and her mother. Walking over to her mother, Pamela said. “Mother, I didn’t want this fight with you. Dusty has to learn that not all men are like her father. I know you don’t like Seth, so let’s just leave him out of the discussion. There are some really good men out there. If Dusty doesn’t learn that, then how is she ever going to fall in love and get married? I love Dusty and I need to teach her to trust again. If she grows up and can’t trust a man, where does that leave her? Is she just going to bounce from one man to another? Is that going to be Dusty’s life? Never falling in love, having a family? “Seth’s a good man. He’s not Craig. He is so much more. I am going to introduce Dusty to him next weekend, somewhere away from here. I need your support with Dusty. If I can’t get it, at least stay away from her. And don’t you even thing of going behind my back with her.” Eyes half-closed, hair tousled, Dusty walked in and said, “I heard loud voices.” TO BE CONTINUED
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