Native Affairs

by Doreen Owens Malek

  If Heath and the lawyer were there, they weren’t answering the phone.

  Ann tried to read and to watch television. She was just about to call again when Heath came through the door, carrying several wrapped packages and wearing a red felt Santa Claus hat with white faux fur trim.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” he said, encircling her with his free arm. “Oh dear, my Mrs. Claus looks somewhat worried. Where’s my joyous Christmas face?”

  “How is Tim? What’s happening? Is he in jail?”

  “Take it easy, he’s not in jail,” Heath replied, dumping his packages on the entry-hall table. “Harold Caldwell pulled some rabbits out of a hat and the bench warrant has now been rescinded. Curfew will not ring tonight.”

  Ann sighed and closed her eyes. “I tried to call Caldwell’s office,” she said.

  Heath grinned. “I kept him busy—he wasn’t taking any outside calls.”

  Ann flung her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I seem to be saying that a lot lately.”

  “De nada. Hey, you haven’t commented on my holiday accessory.” He swept off the hat and bowed.

  “Very fetching. Where did you get it?”

  “I bought it at the liquor store.”

  “Liquor store? Have the proprietors branched out into haberdashery?”

  “Nah, they had a counter display of them when I went in there to send a bottle to Ben Rowell. I couldn’t resist.”

  “I hope you got him something nice.”

  “A fifth of Glenlivet.”

  “Good.” Ann kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

  “Don’t you want to open your presents?” he asked, picking up the smallest one and shaking it suggestively.

  “Isn’t that supposed to wait until tomorrow?”

  “There are no rules for a Bodine Christmas. Come on, just this one package. I want to see what you think of it.”

  “I thought we were going to go shopping together, ” Ann said, accepting it.

  “We will, we will. Everything is open late tonight. Tear into that one now.”

  Ann went into the living room and sat on the sofa, ripping off the gold paper and red bow. Inside was a jeweler’s box.

  “Heath, what did you do?” Ann asked, lifting the lid.

  “I made a start on the rest of our lives, I hope,” he replied, watching her face.

  Against a bed of deep blue velvet lay a gold chain with a large charm attached. Ann lifted it to look at it more closely; it was an old-fashioned quill and inkstand made of heavy gold and studded with diamonds.

  “Heath, its beautiful. But why the charm?”

  “Because you’re a writer. And a pretty good one too, I might add.”

  She looked at him. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been reading your next book.”

  Ann stared at him, stunned. “What? How?”

  “At night, after you’re asleep, I’ve been going into the den and breaking into your computer.”

  “How did you get into the file?”

  He winked. “I’m a mechanical whiz, remember?”

  She couldn’t get over it. “Heath, you are incorrigible.”

  “Yes, I know. I also know more about the Italian Renaissance than I ever thought was possible.”

  Ann laughed.

  “How long were you in Italy?”

  “Not long enough. I still have more research to do.”

  “We’ll go together.” He held out his arms. “Don’t I get another kiss?” he asked.

  Ann flew into his arms and he pressed her close, rocking her back and forth gently.

  “I’m going to make it all up to you,” he said softly. “I know I’ve been a first-class jerk, but if I’m a very good boy, do you think you can forgive me?”

  Ann held him tightly, too emotional to respond.

  “I never wanted anyone but you,” he said. “I tried to tell myself otherwise, tried to have relationships with other women, but it never worked. The memory of you was always there in the background, and it’s like a miracle to have you here with me now. We can make a go of it, can’t we?”

  Ann nodded against his shoulder.

  He held her at arm’s length to look at her. “Annie, are you crying again?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Don’t you know that we’re supposed to be having a wonderful time?”

  “I am having a wonderful time.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Now, are we going to hit those stores or not?”

  “We are.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He took her by the hand and led her toward the door.

  * * * *

  By the time they reached Lusardi’s, the parking lot was packed despite the late hour and the weather, which had turned colder. Ann hugged her coat close about her as they walked inside, where Heath was greeted like a long-lost relative.

  “Did you ever eat or sleep at home before we were married?” Ann asked dryly. They were being led to a secluded table near the Victorian Christmas tree that dominated the dining room.

  “Not often,” he admitted. “As you so astutely pointed out, nobody was there.”

  The maitre d’ seated them and had a little chat with Heath before handing them the menus. The London Philharmonic’s Christmas album played softly in the background and a gas log blazed in a fireplace in a corner behind them.

  “It almost feels like a Christmas up north tonight, the temperature has dropped so much,” Ann said.

  “That’s all right, it puts me in the mood,” Heath said. “I always associate Christmas with New England, anyway.”

  Ann laughed. “What are you talking about? You’ve spent every Christmas in Florida with the palm trees.”

  “Not when I was in the navy.”

  “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. Where were you?”

  “Mystic, Connecticut, for two years.”

  Ann was silent.

  “What?” he said, looking at her.

  “There’s so much about your life since I left Florida that I don’t know,” she said quietly.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Were you happy?”

  “No,” he said.

  “What? Making millions of dollars?”

  “I was successful. I wasn’t happy.”

  “Some might say there’s no difference.”

  “There is. You can take my word for it, I’m an expert. Taking revenge on people is not the path to fulfillment.”

  The wine steward appeared at Heath’s elbow and asked if they would like a drink.

  Heath looked at Ann, then shook his head.

  “Nothing for either one of us,” he said.

  “Sworn off the stuff?” Ann asked, smiling.

  “I don’t seem to need it anymore.” He covered her hand with his bigger one.

  “Who else did you want to take revenge on besides me?” Ann asked.

  “You know. You said it once. All the golfers in the pastel polo shirts, everybody who looked through me as if I were invisible when I was a kid.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Oh, I made sure they knew that I was in their league now. I used my money effectively to get the point across. I hired people like Joe to run my company to rub their blue noses in my prosperity. But of course I really wasn’t accepted by them, no matter what I did.”

  Ann said nothing.

  “Money doesn’t make those people respect you. It’s background and breeding that count. You’re one of them, Princess, and you always will be, even if you don’t have a dime.”

  “They must respect your accomplishments.”

  “My invention, you mean? A lucky accident. They have to deal with me now because of my business but you’ll notice I’m not getting invited to their homes.”

  “Neither am I, now,” Ann informed him.

  Heath shook his head. “You’re undergoing a temporary disgrace because of your brother. That’s different. You’re inside the
fence and I’m outside it.”

  “But I’m married to you!”

  “So you married down.”

  “Oh, Heath, you dwell too much on all of that.”

  “You would, too, if you’d had my early life.”

  “When we first got back together, I thought that’s why you wanted to marry me, to show everybody on Lime Island that you could snag Henry Talbot’s daughter.”

  Heath looked at her across the table and said, “That may have been part of it when we first met as kids. You represented the world I never had access to, the better life that was always closed to me. But once I got to know you, you were so sweet and unlike what I had expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “A snob,” he said.

  “I guess I did nothing to correct that impression initially, bitching at you when your repair job disturbed my nap.”

  He laughed.“But you were so cute standing there, hands on hips, all angry and barefoot in your bikini. I was lost from the moment I saw you.”

  Ann grinned. “You certainly didn’t act like it.”

  “Oh, well, I was always very careful to cover myself in those days.”

  “You still are, Heath. That’s what the past month has been about, right?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you’ve got my number, Princess.”

  “Just remember that,” Ann said archly.

  “Are you ready to order now, Mr. Bodine?” their waiter said to Heath.

  They looked at each other. They hadn’t even glanced at the menus on the table.

  “You come here a lot, Heath,” Ann said. “Just get whatever you want for both of us.”

  Heath ordered for them and then lifted a muffin from the basket on the table. “Have one of these, they’re good. You are hereby ordered to gain ten pounds in the next two months.”

  Ann groaned.

  “Come on, baby. You know I’m right. You don’t eat enough, you never did.”

  “It’s Christmas, Heath. Do we have to have the nutrition lecture now?”

  “You’re going to my doctor as soon as the holidays are over,” he said firmly.

  “Why?”

  “For a checkup.”

  “There’s nothing to check. I’m just thin.”

  “Too thin.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion. Anyway, I’ll gain weight when I’m pregnant.”

  His hand froze in the act of popping loose muffin crumbs into his mouth.

  “What’s the matter?” Ann said at the look on his face. “ We haven’t been doing anything to prevent it.”

  He said nothing.

  “Don’t you want to have children?” she said, alarmed at his reaction.

  “I didn’t think it would come up just yet,” he said carefully. “I assumed we’d have some time to ourselves for a while. After all, we’ve been apart so long.”

  “Of course, but can’t you imagine a little boy who looks just like you, with huge dark eyes and that glorious thick black hair?” Ann said dreamily.

  “And my father’s glorious heritage of alcoholism?” Heath said flatly.

  “Nobody’s family is perfect, Heath. Look at mine.”

  “Your father wasn’t a stumbling drunk.”

  “He was an unfeeling autocrat. Is that so much better?”

  “In my eyes, yes. Your old man wasn’t an ongoing embarrassment.”

  “He was a dictator who almost ruined my life! Look what happened to us because of his interference.”

  Heath sighed heavily and leaned across the table to touch her cheek. “Princess, let’s not argue about this now, not tonight of all nights. Look, here’s our salad. I’m going to watch and make sure you eat all of it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ann let the subject drop but resolved to bring it up again another time. They finished the leisurely meal talking about other things, and by the time they drove home Ann was full, tired and ready for bed.

  Heath locked the front door behind them and said, “This is the first Christmas I haven’t been alone in a longtime.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, I was usually at parties, which on holidays is often worse than being alone.” He put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her along toward the bedroom.

  “I ate too much,” Ann said as they crossed the threshold. “I can hardly walk.”

  “You ate like a normal human being, and if you can do it once you can do it again. I’ll make sure you do.” He stood behind her and unzipped her dress, letting it slip to the floor. He lifted her hair off her neck and kissed her nape lingeringly, then unhooked her bra and dropped that on top of the dress. Ann turned in his arms and he picked her up, carrying her toward the bed.

  Ann fell back on the pillows, her arms above her head. He dropped onto the bed with her, covering her slight body with his muscular one as he pulled off her briefs.

  Ann wound herself around him, sighing. “I dreamed of this so many times, spent years wondering what it would be like, thinking about what I had lost forever. And now I’ve found it again.”

  Heath stood to remove his clothes, and Ann watched as the body she had desired since her adolescence was revealed, sculpted like an artist’s clay figure, totally male. She reached out eagerly and he rejoined her, pulling her to him and running his hands down the satiny curve of her spine. Her fingers sank into his shoulder blades as he turned and set her back on the bed, kissing her everywhere he could reach as her eyes closed luxuriously. Then he positioned her body, encircling her waist with his arm and easing her under him.

  “I love you,” he said as he entered her.

  “I love you, too,” Ann whispered.

  And that was all they needed to say.

  * * * *

  On Christmas night, Heath and Ann were sitting in the living room, relaxing in front of a fire that was more ceremonial than necessary, when the doorbell rang. Heath, who was wearing the cashmere sweater Ann gave him for Christmas, looked at Ann inquiringly.

  “Are you expecting anybody?” Ann asked.

  Heath shrugged.

  Ann slipped out of Heath’s embrace, put down her glass of eggnog and went to answer the door. Her brother Tim was standing on the other side of it, a large wrapped box under one arm.

  “Timmy!” Ann shrieked, and threw her arms around him, causing him to rock back and drop the overnight bag he was carrying in his free hand.

  “Merry Christmas,” Tim said, and hugged her.

  Heath hovered in the background, all smiles.

  “What are you doing here?” Ann asked, releasing him and leading him into the house. “I thought you were going to stay up in Massachusetts.”

  “Heath got me a seat on a plane today. After my latest trouble, he thought it would be best for me to come here and let you see for yourself that I was all right.” Tim stepped around his sister and reached his hand out to Heath, who shook it.

  “Thanks, man,” Tim said.

  “De nada,” Heath replied.

  “No. I mean, really, thanks for everything. I know that I’ve said it a hundred times on the phone but you certainly deserve to hear it once again.”

  Ann stood looking from one man to the other, her eyes huge and sparkling.

  “Come on, Tim, it’s a holiday. Let’s go inside and talk about something positive before your sister gets all weepy. Do you want a drink?” Heath said.

  Tim shook his head ruefully. “Nah, booze tends to make me think I can win at the crap tables again.”

  “Well, there are no crap tables here. How about some eggnog? Nothing in it but lots of calories. We’ve been trying to fatten your sister up.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Eggnog is fine.”

  They went back to the living room and indulged in meaningless chitchat for about fifteen minutes before Heath rose and said, “I’ve still got a few presents to wrap and I’m sure you two would like to be alone for a while.”

  Ann shot him a grateful glance and then turned b
ack to her brother, who was watching her closely.

  “He doesn’t have any presents to wrap, does he?” Tim said knowingly.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Neither do I. You look very happy,” he said.

  “I am.”

  “That’s some great guy you’ve got there.”

  “I know.”

  “I was so humiliated about all of this that I didn’t even want to talk to him on the phone that first time. But he never acted judgmental about my problems, he just addressed what had to be done. Is he always like that?”

  “Not always,” Ann said dryly.

  Tim scratched the back of his neck, looking so much like their father for a moment that her heart skipped a beat. Tim had Henry Talbot’s patrician features and rangy build and just about all of his gestures, too.

  “Heath must really be crazy about you,” Tim said.

  Ann smiled.

  “I mean, I know he didn’t jump into this feet-first and head up the rescue team just for me.”

  Ann nodded.

  “Ironic, isn’t it? Heath is bailing out the company, and the son, of the man who detested him. Somewhere in the wings the fates are laughing.”

  “None of it seems very funny to me,” Ann replied, sighing. “How are you doing, anyway?”

  Tim smiled ruefully. “One day at a time, as they say. I was doing pretty well, actually, until that bench warrant business. The thought of going back to jail really had me spooked.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Tim. There was some legal mixup, it never should have happened—”

  Tim held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t apologize to me, Annie. Everything bad that has happened in my life is my fault. That’s one of the things you learn in recovery—to take responsibility for your own actions. Sure, our dear daddy was a bastard and he let me know every minute of my life that I was a bitter disappointment to him. But he’s dead now, I’m alive, and I’ve got to clean up my mess. With the help of your husband, of course. And you.”

  Ann leaned forward to pour him a glass of eggnog from the cut glass decanter on the table. “Timmy, why did you do it?” Ann said, handing her brother the drink. “I’ve never asked you but I’ve always wondered.”

  “The gambling?”

  “Yes.”