If It Ain't Broke

by Brenda Barrett

  She loved going to the beach and it was something that she wanted Chris to share with her. Besides, she had wanted some excuse not to attend his parents' brunch. His mother treated her with a vague dislike that always had Pinky feeling inadequate.

  Chris had reminded her that they had brunch at eleven. She glanced at her watch it was just nine o'clock—she wasn’t looking forward to it. Hyacinth Donahue was wound tighter than a string. She looked as if she wanted to tell off Pinky for something or the other and Pinky wondered, briefly, what was so objectionable about her person that made Mrs. Donahue dislike her so much.

  Was it something she said or did? Was it the fact that she wasn't from a wealthy background? She discounted that quickly. Chris’ family wasn’t snobbish in the least, and Harlan seemed to genuinely like her.

  So what was Hyacinth's problem? And what was Chris' problem? He was staring off into space and clenching his teeth in agony. She found herself asking him, involuntarily, "What's wrong?"

  He was really acting as if he was in pain.

  "Nothing's wrong," Chris said, smiling at her. He turned his body to hers in the lounge chair and kissed her on the tip of her ear.

  "You have your sunglasses on, I can't see your eyes." Pinky pushed her glasses onto her forehead and looked into her reflection in his. "Take them off."

  "No," Chris said turning away from her, "not a chance."

  Pinky frowned. "You are hiding something aren't you?"

  "Whatever could I be hiding?" Chris asked translucently. "Everything is fine."

  "No, it's not," Pinky said sitting up straighter in the lounge chair, "I’m not completely naive you know. I can tell when you are hurting over something."

  She glanced at him uncertainly and then she started fiddling with the tassels at the bottom of her jeans shorts. "Do you love me, Chris?"

  Chris sat up straighter too, his cheeks flinching a bit from the question. He took her hands into his and slowly caressed her fingers. "I can't answer that right now."

  "You can't because you don't." Pinky stood up. "You don't love me, I can tell. You are obsessing over Kelly, aren't you?"

  Chris shrugged. He pushed the glasses up onto his forehead and looked at her. His bare chest had a few sprinklings of chest hair and he looked muscular and well defined. She found herself wishing contrarily that he wasn't so good-looking. His clear hazel eyes were staring at her with a mixture of regret and sadness.

  "I thought you were over all of that," Pinky whispered. "I thought this whole marriage thing was a declaration that you were willing to start a new life, not just so we can have legal sex!"

  She glared at Chris fulsomely. "Please take me home, I’m not going to your mother's little brunch thing today. I need to think."

  "Pinky, it's not like..."

  She put her fingers on his lips. "I am not going to be the person who will force you to tell me lies so that I can feel better. I just need to adjust my rose spectacles a bit—dim it somewhat, okay?"

  Chris nodded, kissing her fingers. She withdrew them tremblingly and gave a deep sigh.

  *****

  Two weeks later, on Thursday, Chris brought in the mail. He slowly opened the envelope and scanned through the pictures. His eager eyes searched Kelly's body for any hint of a pregnancy.

  In one of them, she was holding Mark. She was dressed in a tight pink dress and laughing. She didn't look pregnant to him but she looked disgustingly happy. He flung the pictures in the bin and briefly wondered where Pinky was at the moment. He had left her at house early that morning. She had been frantically trying to find some lab paraphernalia she had misplaced.

  He vaguely recalled her saying that she was going to the beach with Charles and his friends after her lab. They really loved the beach, Chris thought and then he snatched up his car keys and got up impatiently.

  He could either stay here and be stuck with his thoughts or he could go to the beach with his wife and see what she and her friends found so fascinating about the beach.

  He had generously offered for them to come up to the house and use the pool but so far Pinky kept her friends far from him. She had told him with a grin that he was too serious for her crowd. He had frowned at that statement.

  She had kissed him on the cheek and said, "See what I mean?"

  Chris put a determined smile on his face—though he knew it resembled more of a grimace—and pulled up close to the spot where he saw the bus that they usually piled in to go to the beach.

  Pinky had driven her car; he had given her a late model Honda that she was having fun driving around. He had seen the bright red color, knew that it was the right type of vehicle for her, and bought it.

  He got out of his car and pocketed the keys. He had no real intention of swimming today; he just wanted to escape his thoughts.

  He searched for them on the beach, which was nearly empty. Then he heard singing and laughing and squealing under a palm tree. From a distance his eyes could make out Pinky who was in a bright pink bikini running along the shore and being captured by one of her friends. The guy grabbed her in a football tackle and was tickling her and making growling noises. She was doubled up in paroxysms of laughter, the other young people were laughing at their antics.

  The jealousy came gradually. It wasn't sharp like a knife cut, it was more like a sea wave slowly rolling into shore then crashing onto the sea side, he actually looked out at the sea, taking his eyes away from Pinky being mauled by another man. He felt like acting irrational, and commanding her to stop having fun with her male friend and stop being so familiar with these young people.

  Something alerted Pinky that she was being watched and when she raised her head she saw Chris in the distance. He had his hands stuck into his pockets, an unyielding stiff look to his profile.

  That was his defensive look, Pinky thought troubled. What was he doing at the beach anyway? She had invited him several times but he had refused to come along with her and her friends.

  "Howie, stop tickling me." Pinky hauled up herself from the sand. "I think I see my husband over there. Going to see if something is wrong."

  "Ah, isn't that sweet?" Howie said laughing. "He can't bear for you to be away from him for long."

  Pinky furrowed her brows in consternation. In her fantasy world that may have been true, but in real life she knew that Chris didn't love her and that he could manage to be away from her. So far, she hadn't really cared. Not everybody will be loved like they should be, she reasoned.

  She had appreciation, which was good, most of her friends went on and on about not being appreciated but Chris liked and needed her. That should be enough for now.

  She walked over to Chris slowly. He turned to face her, a stormy look in his eyes. "Why was that guy touching you like that?"

  "Hello to you too Grumps," Pinky said looking at Chris with surprise in her eyes. "How was your day?"

  Chris hunched his shoulders. The wind had picked up and was whipping its way across the sea.

  "You are dressed indecently—having men touching you all over your body. So this is what you guys do at the beach?"

  "This is how people in the twenty-first-century dress at the beach, Sourpuss," Pinky said putting her hands akimbo. "And Howie is my friend from high school, whose girlfriend is sitting right over there beside Charles."

  "I don't like this whole set up," Chris said, frowning.

  "Because you are paranoid," Pinky said laughing. "Want to join us? My friends are a little afraid of you. This would be a good time to show them you are human."

  "I am having a crisis of jealousy here," Chris said seriously, "why are you treating this so lightly?"

  "Because you have nothing to be jealous about," Pinky said exasperatedly. "You have gone from brooding and dark to jealous and suspicious."

  She hugged him snuggling her face into his chest. "I like it."

  "You like it?" Chris looked down at her sandy tipped hair incredulously.

  "Yes," Pinky sighed, "shows you have a thing f
or me."

  She looked up into his face with an impish grin on her face. "You were jealous of Howie. I must never tell him that, he'd be happy for weeks."

  "Let's go home," Chris kissed her on the forehead.

  "Sure thing," Pinky said releasing him. "I’m gonna get my things."

  Chapter Twelve

  Mid-April

  Chris was pacing around his study with a cell phone in hand. He was married for three months to the day, and Geraldine had said three months would be sufficient time for him to get the whole custody ball rolling.

  He drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently and realized that he was still of two minds about calling Geraldine—his married life so far was really good. He hadn't laughed so much in years or had so much fun with a woman as he did with Pinky, but the nagging feeling that his son would be third in Theo's menagerie just irked him a little bit too much. He would no longer be the baby or special. They'd probably have him wiping the roof when it rained or treat him like the male version of Cinderella.

  He tried to contain his paranoia but it kept building and building until finally he convinced himself that Mark needed to be saved from the Palmers.

  He dialed Geraldine's number slowly and it rang twice. She came on the phone in her usual businesslike manner.

  "Geraldine, it's Chris."

  "Ah Chris," Geraldine said with a smile in her voice. "I heard that you got married, congratulations on your nuptials."

  "Thanks," Chris said warmly.

  "How is it going so far?"

  "Very good, actually." Chris bounced a stress ball on his desk that Pinky had given him several months ago, as a tongue-in-cheek present. "This is the three month mark, I am calling to set this whole custody thing in motion."

  Geraldine cleared her throat. "Well, I will get to it right away and actually visit them today. I am in Cayman for the next four weeks. I have a corporate case dealing with. I will call first though, so I can speak with both of them."

  "Kelly's pregnant," Chris said, feeling the old irritation that had persisted when he first heard the news rise up again.

  "Oh," Geraldine was silent for a while and sounded distracted, "all the better to strike when they are distracted."

  Chris felt a little tingle of regret at that but then he remembered that he was the injured party in all of this and said, "Let me know how it goes."

  "Sure thing, Chris." Geraldine hung up the phone and swung around in her office chair. Well it wasn't really her office, it was borrowed space for the next two weeks, after that she'd be mainly working out of her hotel room.

  She liked working in the Caribbean. The pace was way slower and though working with the various government systems was frustrating at times, she was enjoying the lack of frenetic activity.

  She opened her address book and looked for Theo Palmer’s address; he lived on the East side. She would just hop on over after work and pay them a visit. Just to make sure that they would be around, she called first.

  "Hello, good morning," a cultured voice came on the line.

  "May I speak to Kelly Palmer please," Geraldine asked politely.

  "This is she," Kelly answered, a note of weariness slipping into her voice.

  "My name is Geraldine Brown, and I am the counsel for Christopher Donahue, representing him on a custody issue. I would like to meet with you and your husband later today, around six. Is that all right?"

  "What custody issue?" Kelly asked outright, panic taking over her voice.

  "The custody of one Mark Donahue," Geraldine deliberately said in the sternest voice she could muster.

  "I do not know of any Mark Donahue," Kelly said gasping.

  "Oh sorry, a slip of the tongue," Geraldine said apologetically. "I believe you gave him your husband's name—Mark Palmer"

  Kelly was silent.

  "Is six o'clock all right Mrs. Palmer?" Geraldine asked stoutly. "If not, I could always leave it for another time. I am in Cayman for a couple of weeks."

  "Six o'clock is fine," Kelly said after a long pause and hung up the phone with a click.

  *****

  Kelly stood in her sunny kitchen with a raging headache behind her eyes. When she got up this morning she had a strange foreboding that the day was not going to go well. She had gone through the motions: sent her children to school, kissed her husband goodbye before he left for work, carried her youngest to pre-school and had just stepped into the kitchen when the phone rang.

  It was the call she had nightmares about. She had seen how Chris had looked at Mark at Phoebe's wedding and had begun having nightmares about him coming to snatch her son.

  Her hands were trembling and she sat abruptly on a chair by the kitchen window. Why was he doing this now?

  She had heard from an excited Erica, just three short months ago, that he had gotten married. At the time she had felt a mixture of joy and a curious feeling of jealousy, but she had quickly gotten over that. Chris had no place in her life now—her marriage was going from strength to strength and there was a new baby on the way. She was getting some good jobs, professionally, and their home church felt like an extended family.

  But now Chris decided to strike? When everything was going so well? She picked up the phone angrily and dialed Theo's number.

  "Theo," her voice trembled a bit when he answered, "Chris' lawyer is coming to visit us at six o'clock this evening, re a custody case."

  Theo was silent for a long time, then he cleared his throat. "Do you want me to come home now?"

  "No." Kelly squeezed the phone. "It's just that…suppose he does get custody of Mark, or shared custody?" She started to sob. "I am so sorry, Theo."

  "Oh hush, honey," Theo said comfortingly. He looked in his appointment book; he didn’t have anything for the rest of the day that couldn’t be rescheduled. "I am coming home now. Don't stress out yourself, you are four months pregnant."

  Kelly whimpered and he got even more anxious. He hastily hung up and spoke briefly to his secretary who was nodding understandably when he said he had a family emergency.

  When he pulled up at the house and strolled into the kitchen, Kelly was hunched over the table, sobbing.

  Theo pulled her to himself and soothed her, almost frog marching her to the living room.

  "Kelly, stop this," he said to her gently.

  "But he's going to take away my baby." Kelly hiccuped.

  "This is pregnancy hormones talking," Theo said rubbing her back. "Chris doesn't have a case. Remember I spoke to my lawyer friend Jeffrey and he said that Chris cannot legally claim Mark."

  Kelly nodded and then hiccupped. "I am sorry I broke down. I just never expected this from Chris...at least not now...he's married for God's sake! Why would he want to trouble us now?"

  Theo sighed. "Maybe he got married so that he could start the custody proceedings."

  Kelly looked up at him, her big brown eyes wide with shock. "He wouldn't do that...would he?"

  "It's possible," Theo said, "it's not unheard of. This shows that Chris is serious. And who can blame him? Mark looks exactly like him, he is growing up apart from him, and it must hurt."

  "Whose side are you on?" Kelly asked suspiciously. "I’m not giving up my child."

  "Nobody's asking you to." Theo wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Let us just reason this out rationally, like adults. I have been thinking about this since Phoebe's wedding. I did ask him to leave us alone. I have since thought about how utterly unfair it was to deny Mark his heritage. He is a toddler now; he is no longer a babe in arms. He can do without you for weeks at a time."

  "No," Kelly got up and held her pounding head, "why are you arguing like this?"

  Theo sighed. "Kelly, listen to me for a minute, just sit down. I can see the veins bulging at the side of your head—calm down."

  "I was happy," Kelly said frantically, "I was fine until this monster chose to come back into my life."

  Theo looked at her quizzically. "Which monster?"

  "Chris." Kelly huffed
pacing up and down.

  "Chris is not a monster," Theo said calmly, "your guilt is the monster."

  "Stop using your counselor voice on me," Kelly said sitting across from him inelegantly, "I hate Chris."

  Theo steepled his fingers under his chin. "I would prefer if you don't hate him."

  Kelly rolled her eyes. "Why?"

  "I don't hate him," Theo said relaxing in his chair. "You are transferring the guilt and hate you feel about having an affair and projecting it all onto Chris. You need to stop it, Kelly. Don't hate Chris on my account. I had forgiven you for that affair a long time ago. Every now and then I can see that you have not totally forgiven yourself. I am at a loss as to how to help you."

  "I can't totally let it go," Kelly said, her voice soft. "I constantly think about explaining why Mark does not look like Thea and Matthew and probably this new baby. I meet people in the supermarket who comment on how dissimilar he is to us. I am going to have to explain to people for the rest of my life why my son looks like a Donahue, and I hate that. I live with that everyday. Thea asked me the other night why Mark's eyes are green and nobody else's eyes in the family looks like his. I had to distract her. I am constantly trying not to lie to people and yet I see the speculation in their eyes."

  "Then don't lie," Theo said to her earnestly. "We'll tell the children together that Mark has a different biological father. Maybe we'll do it before Chris' lawyer gets here tonight."

  "They are not yet old enough to hear that," Kelly said fretfully. "They'll hate me when they find out."

  "Ah, they'll never be old enough to hear," Theo said gently, "but it has to be done. We have always been honest with them and yet both of us have skirted around this issue—we have done so long enough. The affair did happen; you had a child as a result of it. Burying our heads in the sand hasn’t done us any good.