John Ross and Pamela, Season 2 Episode 8 – Farewell My Love

Pamela was putting John Robert down. John Ross walked out the terrace door, to the very edge of the grass, where a distant ocean could still be seen by the light of a full moon. He stood there feeling the sublimity of the moment, and that it was his last night.

A slight rustle told him she was behind him. He looked at her. She returned the look, long and hard. He pulled her close, but he had no intentions. He only wanted to see her reaction. She came to him and in an instant they were kissing. Harsh, angry kisses, it seemed, on her part. On his, it was just a bounty he had never expected, to have one last time with her.

They fell to the grass and rolled in it and were done all too quickly for him. She had said not a word of endearment, there was just the sensual, hot abandon. There was a time in his life when he would have been just fine with that. But the John Ross that he was now wanted tenderness, endearments, and a sign of love. Yes, love. Of that, he was sure, there was none. When he kissed her ears, whispered in her hair, kissed her face, she evaded him and assumed an aggressive posture. And when they were spent, she walked away. It was a confirmation of all he believed.

Christopher arrived at the airport in St. Kitts and got a cab to Dr. Gina's office. John Ross had called him less than forty eight hours ago and said, "We need you, man. It's a crisis. We need you in a session with the psychiatrist again. When can you come?"

"Let me check out some flights. I have to be creative."

"Take all necessary precautions, I don't have to tell you, don't leave any kind of a trail."

"I know, John Ross."

Christopher would do anything to make sure Pamela was alright. But it was true, he had to take extreme precautions and this was not the best time to leave. Even though John Ross had told the company (in a letter he left for the board) that he was taking an extended vacation so his family could heal from the trauma of an extremely public trial, the farce had to be kept. No Ewing could give the slightest impression of knowing they were in bed with the cartel. He was almost sure he was being tailed day and night.

He found an alternative energy conference to attend in Chicago, booked a hotel, and engaged Bum to oversee his leaving a digital trail behind to show he had in fact attended. He then took a private flight to St. Kitts.

When Pamela awoke that morning there was a note next to her, saying, "Had to go take care of some stuff. Appointment with Gina at 2:00p.m. Be there. Regine can watch the boys."

It was odd. He had left her the car. Was he on foot?

She got to Gina's a few minutes late and found that John Ross hadn't yet arrived. Two minutes after sitting down with Gina, though, Christopher was led into the room by the receptionist.

He kissed Pamela on the cheeck and said, "Where's John Ross? He said it was a crisis. Why did he leave this packet the receptionist just gave me? Is he babysitting the boys?"

"No, our new nanny, Regine's got them." Pamela answered.

"What's this all about anyway?" Now he looked at the doctor.

"I haven't the faintest idea. But let's see what's in the packet," Dr. Emanuele said.

He opened it and two envelopes fell out. One addressed to Pamela and the other addressed to himself. There was a document left in the packet.

He opened his own while Pamela read hers. It said:

"Dear Cuz,

Between the two of us, you're by far the better man. I'm setting her free. Go for it, if she'll have you, you've got my blessing."

He was horrified, and put the note hastily away. He looked up at Pamela, reading a longer letter, and could only wait. He pulled the other papers out of the packet and saw they were divorce proceedings.

Pamela now looked up. "What does he mean?"

"I don't know." Christopher looked at her, all the compassion he felt was no doubt in his eyes. "What does he say?"

She read, "Dear Pamela, You're the love of my life and always will be. But I haven't done right by you since the moment I met you. Both of us know it. I'm setting you free, like I told you I would when you were better. All I care about is that you're alright. The past few weeks, since the trial, have convinced me that freedom is what you want and need. Please sign the papers and return them to the lawyer, he'll take care of the rest. Don't look back, just be happy and love those boys for me."

She looked up now and said, "What are those papers in your hand?"

Christopher handed them over without a word.

"Divorce papers?" she was still, clearly, not taking it in.

"What did he say to you? Why did he call you here?" She was frowning at Christopher.

"Pamela—" Gina tried to soothe.

Pamela raised a hand to stop her from talking. "What did he say to you, Christopher? I want to see it. Give it to me!"

When she read it she laughed, softly. "This is ridiculous."

"Ha ha ha ha ha," she started, and then the bouts of laughter just kept coming.

Gina tried again to interfere, but was not allowed to.

Suddenly, a little girl voice came out of Pamela, saying "Stop that, Pam. Stop it. You're being mean."

"I'm being mean? That's rich!" the laughing voice was considerably lower in pitch but higher in volume. "That son of a bitch, lying, cheating, devil John Ross dumps Pamela without a backwards look and I'm the mean one! Pammie, you've always been the stupidest little cunt this side of Texas."

Pammie gasped. "Don't call me that! It's unladylike." She was completely distraught.

"Unladylike, and who's the lady here, huh? I don't see any ladies. 'Cause you're certainly not a lady, are you? The way you spread your legs for that doctor—"

"Shut up!. Shut up! He made me. You know he made me," she was crying now, most pitifully. "And if I hadn't done it Pamela would have had to do it. And you know she can't take the abuse."

"That's because she's a spineless little coward, who let's everyone shit on her, and walk away from her. And she never does anything about it. I'm tired of cleaning up her messes, and holding up her sinking ass. She's a pussy and a coward."

"And you're a bully and a cheater. You cheated on Pamela. I know you slept with John Ross last night." Pammie's voice was always whimpering.

"Ha! So what? Who cares, you little ninny. You've been wanting to sleep with him for months. But you're too chicken!"

"No. He's Pamela's, I would never," she cried out. "And he's gone and left her now because of you. You…you. Pam you're a bad girl, and it's your fault he's left her. Pamela's going to be so broken hearted she won't come back any more."

"Good riddance to the trash. The both of them. They deserved each other. Him, for being a slime bag and her for putting up with his sorry ass."

"Excuse me." Gina now tried to join the conversation between the two personas. "I'm Gina."

"We know who you are." Pam spoke, this time not so rudely.

"Can I speak to Pamela?"

"She's not coming back. Not ever." Pam answered.

"How can I get a message to her?"

"You can't. She's gone for good. She's a wimp. She can't handle the…shitty side of life so I take over for her. Right now, she's a mile down the shit hole, so depressed she can even raise her head. You'd have to force feed her to keep her alive. You understand what I'm saying."

"Yes, Pam. I understand. And we thank you, for holding down the fort."

"Eh."

"Do you think that Pamela could use a rest?"

"We could all use a rest. Pammie's down the shit hole too. From seeing that crack head, psycho rapist in the court and having to tell about all of his…shenanigans."

"Okay. Well, I can arrange for you to get some rest in the hospital. Will you go?"

Pam shrugged. "Might as well."

Gina had taken Christopher out into the hallway now, and after giving instructions to her staff for someone to sit with Pamela and for hospitalization arrangements to be made, she looked at him.

"I'm trusting you to figure out what to do about the children. As you can see, she's not in any condition…"

"Don't worry. I'll do whatever needs to be done." But he shook his head. "I still can't believe John Ross could have done this."

"Well, he came to see me a few days ago," Gina said, "and from what I saw, he has a severe case of PTSD. He's also been thru more than his psyche can handle. He's in this place of hopelessness, so his decisions are according to what he perceives. I had no idea it was this bad though, or that he was planning something so drastic. I hope you can find him and bring him back. He shouldn't be on his own."

"But he loves her, and she needs him." Christopher was still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Well, he asked me how she was and I said I thought she was alright, she was strong. I never saw this coming. I don't know how long these multiples have been around but I've never seen them before. So, John Ross left convinced that she was in good mental health, and that she didn't need him any more."

"God, what a mess!"

"And, obviously, he thought he had a backup in you."

"That's insane."

"Is it?"

Christopher drove Pamela's car back to flamingo house.

A woman answered when he knocked on the door. He didn't want to let himself in and cause the nanny a shock, "Yes?"

"Hi, are you…" He couldn't remember the name. "I'm…I'm Christopher. Gosh, this is weird. I'm John Ross's cousin." He hastily pulled out his driver's license. "See, my name is Ewing, just like his."

"Uh-hum."

"I just came from the doctor's office, where Pamela had an appointment. Pamela's been hospitalized."

"Oh." She paused. "And where is John Ross, is he with her?"

"No. Not exactly."

"Well, come in," she said. But he still felt awkward, worried that she might not feel safe with him.

"Are the boys asleep?" he asked.

"No, they're awake."

"Oh, can I see them?" It was out before he realized.

"Can you answer a few questions for me?" she asked.

"Sure."

"What are their names?"

"Ross Junior and John Robert. I'm not just their uncle, I'm their godfather too."

"And the name of the doctor?"

"Dr. Gina Emanuele."

"Okay, you may pass."

He laughed with her, "You're very good. What was your name again?"

"Regine. I'm pleased to meet you Christopher Ewing."

"Same here. I have some weird and difficult news. JR and RJ! How's it hanging boys?"

There was a volley of spirited kicking and he picked Ross Jr. up and hugged him. "That's a good boy. Oh, you smell so good. Did you just take a bath?" He smelled his tummy at the same time he nuzzled it.

"Ha ha." Ross Jr. started.

"Oh my God, did you hear that?" he looked at Regine. "Did he just laugh?"

"No. I think you're imagining things. Babies this age don't have the laugh reflex yet."

Christopher blinked. Boy, this was some nanny. "I heard what I heard. You're ahead of the curve, aren't you Ross Jr."

He gave her Ross Jr. and picked up John Robert now. In the kitchen, he got out some juice and poured himself a cup.

"What was the sad news," she asked.

"Ah…I don't know where to begin. I'm still in shock." He looked at her. He was noticing this was no ordinary looking girl. She didn't rush him.

"How well do you know Pamela and John Ross?" he asked.

"Well, I just met them. But my mother knows them well."

"Who's your mom?"

"Mama Joy, do you know her?"

"Yes!" Now that he felt less alone he started talking. "John Ross, for strangely altruistic reasons, has left Pamela."

"Oh my goodness."

"And she has collapsed as a result. Or I would say, dissolved."

"How serious is it? Is it shock or a psychotic break?"

He registered again that this nanny was highly unusual. "I would say the latter."

"Dear Lord," she sighed. "Well, she's in the best hands. Dr. Gina is the best."

"Now, can I talk to you about what…how we are going to take care of these little guys? I'll pay you additional if you can stay nights. And I don't know how long this will take."

Her eyes flickered and she said, "Well, rest easy. You don't have to pay me extra. I'm being paid sufficiently for what I do. And I'll stay here until their mother is back on her feet."

"Thank you," he said. "Do you think between the two of us we can handle them?"

"Well, if we need more help we'll holler. My family will come running. In fact, why don't we go down there right now. I'm no cook and we need dinner."

"You don't cook? I mean, not that you have to cook, for me I mean." Was he babbling? "But your mother is the best cook on the island."

"Yeah, and I saw her slaving at that all my life. Ergo, I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Actually, I don't think she'd let me."

"What do you do when you're not…taking care of kids."

"I study medicine," she said simply.

That explained a lot. Not all, but a lot.