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Pam, Women of Valley View, book 3

By Sharon Srock

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THE WOMEN OF VALLEY VIEW: PAM

PROLOGUE

The bite of Alan’s betrayal was lethal. The venom spread through Pam’s system as poisonous as a rattlesnake coiled in the Oklahoma dust.
She sat cross-legged in the middle of her queen- sized bed, a bottle of prescription sleeping pills in her lap, memories in the form of photo albums and loose pictures scattered around her on the hunter green comforter. With shaking hands, she tucked her hair behind her ears and fanned a stack of photos out before her. One snapshot in particular caught her eye. Pam picked it up by a corner, not afraid of damaging the picture, but bracing herself for the damage the picture would do to her.
High school, sophomore year. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, braces glinting in the light of the camera flash. Alan stood next to her, his arm tossed negligently across her shoulders, his muddy football uniform a sharp contrast to her white cheerleader sweater. Their first picture together, the beginning of their life with each other.
Pam stroked the picture and the present melted into the past. Her gaze narrowed to Alan’s face, his high cheekbones, cleft chin, and the wild mop of his sandy hair. Even then she could see the future she wanted for herself in his brown eyes. Alan Archer, her first and only love.
She swallowed two of the pills and chased them with a gulp of bottled water. Just two at a time, I can always change my mind.
Pam steeled herself against the ache in her heart and sorted through more pictures. Homecomings and proms. His and hers. Outdated hairstyles, long satin gowns decorated with lace, sequins, and bows. Rented tuxedos, his ties and cummerbunds coordinated to match her dress. Flowers for her, wing tipped collars for him. High school graduations. His from college. She scrambled over to the window, open to catch the early summer breeze, and tilted the picture in the midday sunlight. If she squinted she could just make out the gold of her new engagement ring. She forced her eyes down to her left hand. No gold there anymore. Just the pathetic imprint of what used to be. That’s all her heart held this morning, a sad, hollow image of the past.
Two more pills joined the toxic mixture brewing in her stomach. She closed her eyes. Let it be quick. A prayer? She shrugged away the thought.
Returning to the bed, she pulled a large white album into her lap. Tears dotted the closed cover as she hugged the book to her chest. The promise of their wedding day. A future waiting to be written. Cake and friends and vows to love each other forever. How could it be forever already? She swallowed two more pills.
Pam closed her eyes against a wave of dizziness. She really did want to pray, but nothing came from her soul except overwhelming guilt and failure. Oh God. I did everything I knew to do. How could You take my life way from me like this? What did I do? Where did I go wrong? A million times asked, a million times unanswered.
More pictures and albums. She traced her finger across Alan’s features. His image laughed up at her.
He seemed happy. Where had that gone?
She held her fisted hands to her ears in an effort to block out the insults she’d lived with for the last year. Stupid, fat, worthless, frigid slob. The haunting, hurtful words ran together, mixing with Alan’s laughter as she walked into his office and saw...
She moved her hands from her ears to her eyes. Pam rubbed, trying to erase the image of Alan and his secretary lying together on the sofa in his office. She failed. The echoed words from that moment still made her flinch.
“What...?”
“Don’t be stupid, Pam. When are you going to understand that you were never woman enough for me?”
Oh, she understood. She emptied the rest of the pills into her hand, popped them into her mouth, and swallowed them before she lost her nerve.
She blinked rapidly, her system fighting the sleep and relief the pills promised. With time running out, Pam gathered up images of holidays and family vacations. This was her life, her world. All she’d ever wanted remained forever frozen in these little slices of time. Moments of love and happiness reduced to the devastation of failure with one phrase. Five little words she could barely bring herself to think, much less speak aloud.
My divorce is final today.
Her lawyer, Harrison Lake, had been a pillar of strength throughout the whole process. He kept trying to convince her that this was not the end, but a fresh beginning. He’d held her hand while she cried. He’d gone to battle with Alan in her stead. His phone call last night assured her that it would be over today.
Pam took one last look at the pictures displayed around the room. A hundred pieces of her broken heart fractured into a thousand more. She wanted to burn them all, but Jeremy and Megan would want them later. Jeremy and Megan. My babies. The knowledge that she’d failed at motherhood as certainly as she’d failed at marriage stole the last bit of her resistance. They were safely tucked away for the summer in Wyoming with her parents and better off without her.
A fresh wave of drug-induced vertigo. She laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. The empty bottle of sleeping pills slipped from her limp fingers. Harrison was right. It would be over today.

Hot. Pam shifted her legs under the sheets, looking for a cool spot to relieve the uncomfortable warmth surrounding her. The next sensation to penetrate the fog of sleep was thirst. She swallowed and released a sharp groan of pain. Why was her throat so sore?
“Pam?”
Pam turned toward the voice and struggled to open her eyes. Harrison...what is he...? Memory flooded back like a returning tide. She gave up trying to get her eyes open. Instead, she turned her back to him and surrendered, again, to the weeping that had plagued her for days. Failure. Her life was nothing but a failure. She felt a hand on her shoulder and shrugged it away. “Leave me alone.” Her request came out as little more than a croak.
Harrison’s answer came in a single clipped word. “No.”
Pam heard his footsteps as he circled the bed. The mattress shifted under his weight when he sat beside her. He took her hand.
She jerked it out of his grasp. “Go away.”
”What were you thinking?”
”You’re a lawyer.” Bitterness tinged her words. “Figure it out.”
”Pam, why? The worst is over. After today you could’ve begun rebuilding your life.”
Pam flipped onto her back and covered her eyes with her arm. “What life? My life ended when I walked into Alan’s office and saw—”
“That’s not true.”
She held her tongue. If she refused to acknowledge him, maybe he’d go away.
“Do you really want me to leave?”
”Yes.”
”Then tell me who to call.”
Pam lowered her arm. “No one. I want to be alone.”
Harrison shook his head. “Not possible.”
She glared at him.
”You’re on suicide watch. When I leave, they’ll take you up to the psych ward and put you into a private room with a large observation window and video cameras. You won’t be alone for the next forty-eight hours.” Harrison pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “You’re allowed two visitors at a time. I need to know who to call. Parents, friends, your pastor, someone who can keep an eye on you once I leave.”
Pam stared at him. Her restless hand smoothed the worn thermal weave of the hospital blanket. Her fingers picked at the lint balls left behind by repeated washings. What she’d just tried to do would destroy her mom and dad. Her friends, Callie, Terri, Karla, even Pastor Gordon. How could she make them understand? She couldn’t tell anyone about this, not today, not ever. Pam realized the corner she’d painted herself into. “There’s no one to call.” The words were a whisper, forced around her constricted throat. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
Harrison put the notebook away and pulled out a clean handkerchief. “I have an alternate option, if you’re willing to listen.” Pam nodded and accepted the square of linen he pressed into her hand. “I made some calls before you woke up. There’s a counseling center I’ve heard good things about. It’s run by Christian counselors. They’re very discreet.” He took an index card from his pocket and laid it on the bedside table. “I talked to them and to your doctor. They’re willing to take you as a patient, and your doctor has agreed to release you into my custody for transportation. I can drive you down tonight, if that’s what you want.” His tapping finger drew her eyes to the card. “They’re waiting to hear from you.”
Pam bit her lip and held out her hand. She blinked moisture from her eyes and tried to focus on the words. “Brookside?”
Harrison nodded. “That or the psych ward.”
Pam closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. Suicide... ”Oh, dear Jesus. What have I done?”

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