Native Affairs (85 page)

His arm fell. “When is the baby due?”

“The third week in August.”

“I’ll arrange through Caldwell to have all of your bills sent to me.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You’re still my wife. We’ll work out the details later, but I’m not going to have you scrimping along here while you’re carrying this baby.”

“All right.”

He looked at her and she felt her heart turn over; he still had the power to turn her insides into putty. She’d better send him on his way, fast.

Ann walked to the door and opened it for him. “Goodbye, Heath,” she said.

“Goodbye.”

Ann waited until she heard his footsteps fade before she started to cry, staring at his smoldering socks on the radiator.

Chapter 12

“Good Lord, you’re as big as a house,” Joan said, laughing delightedly and patting Ann’s tummy. “That baby isn’t going to arrive right now, is it?”

Ann closed the door of her apartment and ushered Joan into the living room, which appeared even smaller than usual with the boxes of baby clothes and receiving blankets stacked against one wall taking up a good deal of the walking space.

“I hope not,” Ann replied. “He’s not supposed to be due for another two weeks.”

“He?”

Ann nodded and smiled. “The ultrasound pictures say that it’s a boy.”

Joan walked around the reclining chair and then stopped short when she saw that it was occupied by a huge stuffed bear. The toy animal was wearing a red corduroy vest and a red-and-blue plaid satin bow. “What in heaven’s name is that?” Joan exclaimed.

“My friend Amy’s contribution. She’s coming for a visit soon and I’ve forbidden her to bring anything else. There’s hardly room for the baby—I’m going to have to move out.”

Joan held up several gaily wrapped gift packages and they both laughed.

“Have a seat. Would you like some iced tea? There’s nothing worse than August in the city,” Ann said.

“Iced tea would be lovely. It’s nice and cool in here, your air conditioner must be efficient.”

“It’s an antique but it works.” Ann returned from the kitchenette with two tall glasses, tea for Joan and mineral water for herself.

“How long are you going to be in New York?” Ann asked, handing Joan her drink.

“Just today. My niece’s wedding is this evening and I’m flying back first thing in the morning. Come on, open that one up. It’s from Daniela and Victor.”

Ann tore off the paper and opened the indicated box to find a hand-crocheted crib blanket, done in shades of pink and blue.

“This is gorgeous,” Ann said, turning it over in admiration. “I’m so helpless with handicrafts.”

“Daniela made it herself.”

“How thoughtful. I’ll send her a note.”

“And that one’s from me.”

Ann opened the box to find an infant outfit trimmed in delicate lace.

“It’s for a boy or a girl, three to six months.”

Ann rose and kissed Joan on the cheek.

“Thank you so much,” she said, blinking rapidly and looking away, fussing with the box to cover her emotion.

“Now, are we going to talk about him, or not?” Joan said, folding her hands.

“How is he?” Ann asked, sitting again and wiping her eyes with her fingers.

“Miserable. He misses you terribly.”

“Has he said so?”

“You know him better than that. He says nothing, pretends that nothing is wrong. He just works twenty-four hours of every day. He and Joe are opening a new marina in Chester City. Have you heard from him at all?”

“He communicates through the lawyer.”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes. I said so, anyway. I didn’t realize I would be so lonely.” Ann shook her head, her eyes misting again. “I get so weepy, it must by my condition.”

“I think you miss Heath.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then get back together with him.”

“The problems will still be there.”

“But, Annie, do you really want to raise this baby all by yourself?”

Ann sighed and closed her eyes. “I want to raise him with a happy, healthy father. That isn’t Heath. Not now, anyway. I thought if I stayed with him and loved him he would get over the past, but I see now that it will take more than that. But I can’t convince Heath. He would rather turn a blind eye and give up his family than seek the help he needs.”
 

“I don’t think he’s reasoned all of that out,” Joan said. “He’s just in a lot of pain.”

“And planning to work himself to death to forget it.”

Joan shrugged.

“Is there another woman in his life?” Ann asked, wary of the question but desperate to know.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, he is separated from me.”

“Physically, maybe, but not in his mind.”

Ann bit her lip. “Joan, you must have an opinion. What do you think I should do?”

“Give him another chance?”

Ann didn’t answer.

“Well?”

“I can’t raise a baby in constant turmoil, Joan.”

“Maybe after the child comes, he’ll be different.”

“Why?”

“Fatherhood can have a benign effect. I’ve seen it happen before, believe me.”

“I’d like to believe you.”

“Let’s shelve this depressing subject for the moment. You said on the phone last week that you sold a sequel to your book?”

“I sold the series. I’m going to do three books.”

“That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so. It’s a commitment on the part of the publisher, anyway.”

“They must think you’re very talented.”

“I hope so. I just want to do the kind of work I like.”

“You’ll be a busy mother.”

“Maybe that will help.”
 

“Help what?”

“To fill the void.”

“Annie, why don’t you call him? I’m sure he’s just waiting for the phone to ring.”

Ann shook her head. “I’m not being stubborn, Joan. I know what will happen. We’ll get together, things will be wonderful for a while, and then something will come up to trigger that rage he’s got bottled up inside him. He’s not going to vent it on me again and he’s not going to vent it on my baby.”

“All right, I understand. I’m poking my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“No, you’re not. My mind is made up, that’s all.”

“Fair enough. Now, I was promised lunch and I’m starving. Where’s the food?”

“Step this way,” Ann said, leading Joan to the dining area near the window.

* * * *

Heath hung up the phone and glanced at the date at the top of the notepad on his desk.

Ten days. His baby was due in ten days.

He picked up the phone again and dialed the Jensen’s home number. Joan answered on the fourth ring.

“Joan, it’s Heath.”

“Something told me I might be hearing from you today,” Joan said dryly.

“How is she?”

“Ann is fine.”

“How does she look?”

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.”

“I mean, does she seem well?”

“Yes.”
 

“Happy?”

Joan hesitated.

“Is she happy?” Heath insisted.

“She’s happy about the baby, that much is true. I know she misses you.”

“Did she say that?”

“Heath, you are not going to conduct an interrogation over the phone. I’m sorry Joe told you I was going to New York, I knew this would happen when I got back.”

“You can’t expect me to be indifferent. Ann’s having my child, isn’t she?”

“There was a time when you didn’t think so.”

“Joan, please. Without the acid commentary, are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes, Heath, she’s fine.”

“Do you think she might let me come and see the baby when it’s born?”

The plaintive note in his voice almost broke Joan’s heart. “I’m sure she wouldn’t keep you out, Heath. You’re the father.”

“I don’t know. She’s pretty fed up with me.”

“You could take legal action to see the child.”

“I don’t want to start throwing writs at her, that’s not the way to win her back.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what I’ve wanted since she moved to New York.”

“Then do what she asks.”

“Go into counseling?” he said derisively.

“Why not?”

“That’s for screwups like Ann’s brother.”

“People can be screwed up in different ways. Ann says that Tim is doing very well in this rehabilitation program.”

“He’d better, if he wants to stay out of jail.”

“You should have an equally powerful incentive.”

“I’m not a gambler, for God’s sake. Is that where you think I belong, in group gripe sessions with druggies and drinkers and people who can’t stay away from the roulette wheel?”

“I think you have to do something,” Joan said.

“No, thanks.”

“Then you can stay where you are and watch Ann raise your son from fifteen hundred miles away.”

“Stop lecturing me, Joan.” Then, “My son?”

“I’m sorry, I let that slip.”

“It’s a boy?”

“Yes.”

There was a long silence.

“Heath, are you still there?”

“I wonder what he’ll look like.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Joan said, and hung up the phone.

Heath was left with the dial tone blaring in his ear.

* * * *

“Well, here I am, with boiling water,” Amy said, sticking her suitcase through the door and then stepping over it. “Should I don the rubber gloves now?”

“Take it easy, Amy, nothing is happening yet.”

“What a disappointment. I take my vacation time to spend it with you in your hour of need, and you’re just standing there, looking like the fat lady in the circus.”

“Thanks.”

Amy patted Ann’s chubby cheek. “Only kidding.”

“It’s a sensitive subject. I’ve gained thirty-five pounds.”

“Good! You were too skinny.”

“I’d defy anybody to say that now.”

Amy put her suitcase on the sofa and unlocked it, producing a triplicate box of rubber pants, infant size.

“Did I come prepared?” she said, raising one brow.

“I’m impressed.”

Amy, looking slim and tanned in shorts and a halter top, sat back on the sofa and tucked her legs under her.

“Why do they always talk about boiling water for the childbirth scenes in those old movies?” Amy inquired. What the hell is it for, anyway?”

“Damned if I know,” Ann replied. “Sterilization?”

Amy shrugged. Seriously, kiddo, how are you feeling?” she asked.

“Huge.”

“What does your doctor say?”

“She says that everything seems fine and I should be able to have a natural, successful labor.”

“Good.” Amy bit her lip, opened her mouth, then closed it again abruptly.

“Go ahead. You can ask,” Ann said.

“Have you heard from him?”

“Just through the lawyer, Caldwell. Have you seen him in Florida?”

“On television.”
 

“On television?” Ann asked.

“Some charity drive. I feel like telling him that charity begins at home.”

Ann held up her hand to forestall the commentary. “I know, I know. But I want to ask you a favor.”

“Shoot.”

“Will you call him when the baby’s born? He’ll want to know and there’s really nobody else I trust who’ll be on the scene.”

“What about Tim?”

“He’s under house arrest until he completes his twelve-step program.”

“If I talk to Heath, I can’t promise civility.”

“Amy, be nice.”

“Why? Has Heath been nice?”

“This is a circular argument, Amy, and it’s giving me more indigestion than I already have. Just call him, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now let’s talk about something else.”

“Have you picked out any boy’s names you like?” Amy inquired brightly.

“No. I guess I’m superstitious. I want to make sure the baby’s all right before I even think about names.”

Amy got up and pressed Ann’s hand warmly. “The baby will be all right,” she said. “But I think that now we should move on to the really important discussion, the one that concerns my dinner date last Friday night.”

“Who is he?”

“The personnel V.P.”