Native Affairs

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Native Affairs Page 60

by Doreen Owens Malek

“You okay, hon?” Joan said to her as she turned from the oven with a tray.

  “Sure. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, you’ve been blooming the last couple of months and I’ve been relieved to see it. Right around Christmas I was really worried about you.”

  “Oh, my brother’s legal trouble, you know. It was always on my mind.”

  “Of course. As I said, Joe and I were thrilled to see you so much happier lately. But tonight you seem...I don’t know, preoccupied. Has there been a bad turn in Tim’s case?”

  “No, everything is fine. I think I’ve just been working too hard on my book. I went to see Heath’s doctor today and he gave me a clean bill of health.”

  “Dr. Langley?” Joan said.

  “Yes.”

  “I hear he’s good. Joe doesn’t trust anybody who hasn’t been in the Keys since the Seminoles, and Langley’s fairly new so I’ve never seen him. We see Dr. Rappaport on Big Palm.”

  “Rappaport was my father’s doctor.”

  “Do many people connect you with Henry Talbot nowadays?” Joan asked, removing the glassine wrapper from a stack of small paper napkins.

  “Not that many, you’d be surprised. People forget fast and a lot of the old guard has changed. But, of course, with Tim’s name in the news, there’s some recognition.”

  “Does anybody give you a hard time about it?”

  “A few veiled remarks, nothing major. Maybe some people would say more, but I think they’re afraid of Heath.”

  “Afraid he’ll sue them?” Joan said.

  “Or punch them in the mouth. He’s quite capable of either course of action.”

  Joan chuckled. “I remember him when he was a kid. Very tough. He hasn’t changed much in that regard.”

  “Did you know him when he first came to work for Joe?” Ann asked.

  “Sure did. All sinew, that glossy hair, huge dark eyes. He was something to see.”

  “I know. I saw him.”

  Something about the wistful note in her voice touched the older woman and Joan patted her arm. “I’m sorry it took so long for you two to get back together,” she said.

  “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “So I gathered. But I know Heath can be pretty unforgiving. It’s the opposite face of his generosity. He’s a great friend but a formidable enemy.”

  Ann nodded.

  Joan brightened. “Enough of this serious talk. Let’s bring this food in to the men before they get restless,” she said.

  Ann picked up the napkins and a tray and went out of the kitchen with Joan.

  * * * *

  The rest of the evening went smoothly and Ann held her tongue about her news until she and Heath were back in their bedroom. Heath decided to take a shower and Ann waited for him in their bed, dressed in a satin negligee. When he joined her, wearing only a towel about his waist and smelling of soap and shampoo, she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in next to him.

  “You feel nice and warm,” he said. “Aren’t anemics supposed to be cold all the time?”

  “Heath, forget about that. I’m not anemic. I just took the test to satisfy Langley.”

  “What was the test?”

  “A blood sample.”

  “When will the results be in?”

  “Early next week.”

  “If you’re not anemic then why are you dizzy?”

  “Langley thought I might be pregnant,” Ann said after a long, doubtful pause.

  He froze; she could feel his body stiffen against hers. “Did he examine you?”

  “Not internally. He just thought that explanation might fit my symptoms.”

  “What symptoms?”

  “The dizziness, the irregular periods.”

  “You said that was from stress.”

  “I’m not a doctor, Heath. I was just guessing. Anyway, Langley gave me a referral to an OB/GYN

  in his building. I called and I have an appointment next week.”

  Heath got out of bed and turned to face her, putting on his robe. “You can’t be pregnant,” he said flatly.

  “I think I am, Heath. I took one of those home tests and it was positive.”

  His face closed completely and Ann felt a chill when she saw the old expression, hostile and withdrawn, suffuse his features. She had hoped never to see it again.

  “Then the child cannot possibly be mine,” he said coldly.

  Chapter 11

  Ann was too stunned to reply for several seconds. Then she said, “What on earth do you mean, Heath?”

  “Just what I said. You’re not pregnant by me.” There was an air of unreality about the exchange that made Ann wonder if she had already fallen asleep and was having a nightmare. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

  “I don’t know how else this could have happened,” he said tightly, his arms folded.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know how it happened.”

  “No I don’t. I had a vasectomy while I was in the Navy. If you’re having a baby it isn’t mine.”

  Ann stared at him, her lips parted in disbelief. “You had a vasectomy?” He glared back at her stonily.“Why?” she said.

  “You know why. I didn’t want to produce any more congenital drunks.”

  “So you knew you couldn’t have children when we were first married?” Ann said, dumbfounded.

  “Of course. In the kind of marriage we were planning to have, it wasn’t going to make any difference.”

  “But what about after Christmas when things changed? Just when, exactly, were you going to share this piece of information with me?”

  “Don’t try to turn the tables here—the discussion at hand concerns your mysterious pregnancy. Who’s the father?”

  “You’re the father, you idiot, and I’m livid that you could even imply otherwise,” Ann replied, throwing back the covers on the bed and standing to face him. “You must know that vasectomies don’t always work perfectly—they can still fail to prevent pregnancy in some circumstances. Instead of insulting me with this baseless accusation, why don’t you contact the doctor who performed the operation and find out exactly what’s going on? If you loved me, or trusted me the way you should, that would be your initial reaction, not another round of ‘let’s beat up on Annie.’” She marched to her closet and began to pull clothes off hangers.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, following her.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving.” She rapidly folded an assortment of sweaters and slacks and tossed them haphazardly into a canvas flight bag.

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “I see no reason to stay any longer.”

  “You’re leaving me?” he said in a bewildered tone, as if unable to believe it.

  “Of course. Do you think I’m going to stay here and listen to any more of this garbage? I’ve been as understanding and patient as I know how to be. I forgave you for the way you treated me when we first got back together. I made every excuse I could think of for your abominable behavior and overlooked all of it in order to have the future with you that I so desperately wanted. But this is the last straw, Heath. If you actually think that I have been sleeping with somebody else during the past couple of months when we’ve been so happy together, then I don’t even know what to say to you.”

  “It may have happened before Christmas,” he said flatly, his gaze level.

  “Oh, I see. While you were torturing me on a daily basis, I was taking comfort in some other man’s arms?”

  “Why not? According to you, I gave you sufficient reason. How pregnant are you?”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to have a sonogram to date the conception. But no matter when this baby was conceived it is yours, and I will undergo DNA testing to prove it. I’ll send you the results in the mail.” She tore off her nightgown furiously and then pulled a sweater over her head.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my apartment in New York. We’ve continued to pay the rent on it, i
f you recall, and it’s empty. You suggested it as a refuge once before. It’s as good a place as any for me to be.”

  “Wait...” he said, grabbing her arm.

  Ann tore it loose from his grasp, and when his eyes met hers again he saw that, despite her reserved tone of voice, she was indeed furious.

  “No, I won’t wait. I love you, Heath. I have always loved only you and apparently that is my misfortune. It may interest you to know that during the eleven years we were apart I never made love with another man. I was faithful to you, not only during this marriage, but all the time before when the mere memory of you made the presence of any other man pale by comparison. You have been my one and only lover, but I know that nothing I can say will convince you of that. You seem determined to drive me away on one stupid pretext or another, and this time you have finally succeeded.” Ann stepped into a pair of slacks, zipped them up and grabbed her purse with one hand and the overnight bag with the other. When he blocked her path, she stopped short.

  “Get out of my way,” she said through gritted teeth, her body rigid.

  “Listen.”

  “I have listened. I have listened to more nonsense from you than I have ever heard from another human being, including my late and unlamented father. I have had enough. Now, are you going to move, or are you planning to chain me to the bedstead and post an armed guard? Because the second you leave me alone I’ll be gone.”

  He stepped aside and she breezed past him. She paused in the doorway and looked back at him. “You know, I was worried about telling you I was pregnant because of your less than enthusiastic reception to the topic last Christmas Eve. I didn’t know the reason for your negative response, of course, but it never occurred to me that you would accuse me of having another man’s child. Your opinion of me must be even lower than I ever imagined. Goodbye, Heath.”

  Heath stood staring after her, the finality of her last words ringing in his ears.

  * * * *

  Ann had planned to drive to the airport and leave her car in the lot for Heath to pick up later, but she only got halfway there before a reaction set in that forced her to pull over to the side of the road. She was shaking uncontrollably, her knees vibrating like windshield wipers, and there was a tightness in her throat that refused to explode into tears. She had left Heath. Her beautiful dream was over, and it had happened in a matter of minutes.

  She sat in the car, her arms propped on the steering wheel and her head bait, until a police car cruised past and slowed, its occupant regarding her curiously. Ann straightened and glided out into the traffic lane; all she needed was to be picked up by the cops now. But she suddenly felt incapable of driving the rest of the way to the airport, and then remembered that the Jensens lived only a couple of blocks away. She drove there slowly, her heart pounding. She left her car at the curb in front of the house, which was dark. They were probably asleep. She almost turned around and went back. But the thought of getting into that car again, alone, was too much.

  Ann bit her lip and pressed the doorbell. Nothing happened for a long time.

  She pressed it again. When there was still no response she turned to go and was halfway down the walk when the porch light snapped on. Joan Jensen, belting a cotton bathrobe around her, yanked open the door.

  “Hi, Joan,” Ann said, feeling utterly ridiculous.

  “Annie, is that you?” Joan said, peering nearsightedly into the darkness.

  “Yes.”

  “What on earth are you doing here at one o’clock in the morning?” Joe asked, towering behind his wife. “Are you all right?”

  “Uh, not exactly. I’ve left Heath.”

  Husband and wife stared at her with identical expressions of astonishment, which under other circumstances would certainly have been funny.

  Joe recovered first, pushing his way past his wife and extending his hand to Ann.

  “You poor lamb, come right inside and sit down. You look like the only survivor of a plane crash,” he said, leading Ann to the plaid sofa in the living room. His wife hovered, fishing in the pocket of her robe for her glasses.

  “What happened?” Joan asked.

  “I can’t believe this,” Joe added. “You were just here tonight and everything was fine.” He sat across from Ann in an armchair, his expression baffled.

  “Everything was not fine,” his wife corrected him. “I knew Ann had something on her mind.”

  “You’re right, I did,” Ann said. “I’m pregnant, and I told Heath about it when we got home. He said the baby wasn’t his and accused me of having an affair.”

  There was a stunned silence for several seconds.

  “Why, I should whip that boy within an inch of his life,” Joe said first, rising from his chair.

  “Settle down, Joe,” his wife said warningly. “Let’s hear the rest of this.”

  “There isn’t much more to tell. He said that he’d had a vasectomy right after he got out of the navy and so he couldn’t possibly be the father.”

  “Well, that does sort of change the picture, doesn’t it?” Joe said, his brow furrowed.

  “Don’t be silly, Joe. If Ann is pregnant of course Heath’s the father. That he could think otherwise is disrespectful of Ann as well as their marriage,” Joan said.

  “I told him he should go back to the doctor who did the procedure. But regardless of what he hears I can’t live with a man who would think that of me. He didn’t consider for a moment that the pregnancy might be accidental. He immediately assumed I had been unfaithful. I’m tired of walking on eggshells, wondering when he’s going to find fault with me again.”

  “What you need, young lady, is a good shot of brandy,” Joe said, going to get it.

  “She’s pregnant, Joe, remember? There’s some herbal tea in the kitchen, would you put the kettle on to boil?” Joe left the room and as he did Joan turned to Aim and said, “What are you going to do?”

  “I was planning to catch the next flight to New York and go back to my old apartment. But I only got this far and came here. I couldn’t seem to drive any farther.”

  “We’re glad you did, honey. You certainly shouldn’t be wandering around at this late hour in your present state of mind,” Joan said.

  Ann let her head fall wearily to the back of the sofa. “I thought Heath and I were past all of our troubles but I guess I was wrong,” she said dispiritedly.

  “He should have told you about the vasectomy,” Joan said. “He must have known you wanted children.”

  “Well, we got married under rather unusual circumstances, ” Ann replied.

  “I thought it was kind of sudden,” Joan said cautiously.

  Ann sighed. “I guess I’d better tell you all of it. It might make all of this drama a little more understandable. I’m sure you must think Heath and I are both certifiable by now.”

  Joan waited.

  “Heath blackmailed me into marrying him,” Ann said. “My brother was in horrendous trouble as a result of a gambling habit, ScriptSoft was bankrupt, and everybody in the world was suing Tim. He was about to be prosecuted and stood to go to jail. Heath said he would bail Tim out of the mess if I married him.”

  “Why did he want that?”

  “Revenge.”

  “Revenge?” Joan said.

  “We had planned to run away together that summer we were in love. I pulled out of the plan at the last minute, left Heath waiting for me. He thought it was because I couldn’t give up the high life I enjoyed as the Talbot ingenue.”

  “But that wasn’t it?”

  “No. My father found out about our plans and said he would have Heath arrested for statutory rape unless I left town and never saw him again.”

  Joan gasped. “Did you tell Heath this?”

  “Yes. But he didn’t believe me until the story was confirmed by a retired cop who was on the force at the time. The cop knew that my father had investigated bringing charges against Heath.”

  “It sounds like your husband doesn’t have much fai
th in you,” Joan said softly.

  “You’re right, and that’s the root cause of our problems. He just can’t trust me. Maybe he can’t trust any woman. His mother abandoned the family. What happened between us when we were teenagers didn’t help, even if the damage I did was unintentional. But it seems he just can’t get past it.”

  Joan nodded somberly.

  “He reads the papers, he watches the news,” Ann said, gesturing vaguely. “He must know that vasectomies aren’t always foolproof. I’m sure his doctor told him that at the time he had his. But he leapt to the conclusion that I had been unfaithful, because it’s what some part of him wants to believe. I’m tired of trying to overcome that presumption of guilt every day of my life. If something inside him has to spoil our happiness, then he will have to live alone.”

  “Why would a young, healthy man have a vasectomy?” Joan wondered aloud.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard all the reports about alcoholism being genetic, that scientists can create alcoholic mice in the laboratory through selective breeding,” Ann said. “Heath’s experience with his father was so awful that he didn’t want to pass the tendency on to his children.”

  “And at the time he had this done, you were out of his life, right? I’m sure he couldn’t picture a future that would include children,” Joan said.

  Ann shrugged. “I don’t think he was considering anything then but making money and getting ahead in the world.”

  “Here’s your tea,” Joe said, rejoining them and handing Ann a cup, which she accepted gratefully.

  “Joe, did you know about this blackmail business when Heath and Ann got married?” his wife demanded of him sharply, her dark eyes narrowed.

  “Sort of,” Joe replied, looking sheepish.

  “What does that mean?” Joan said.

  “He told me about it at Christmas. I didn’t know it before they got married.”

  “And you never said a word to me?” Joan asked, amazed at the idea.

  “Heath made it clear that it was his business,” Joe said, shrugging.

  “I feel kind of awkward accepting your hospitality,” Ann interjected, interrupting them as she took a sip of the tea. “After all, you were Heath’s friends first and here I am telling you all these terrible things about him.”

 

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