Native Affairs (84 page)

Three days later Ann was checking some references in the outdated version of the Encyclopedia Britannica she had purchased from the Dunnell Library when a furious knocking commenced at her door. She rose and stood on the rug just inside the door, saying to the dead air, “Heath, go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“It isn’t Heath,” Amy’s voice replied in irritation. “Now will you please open this door?”

Ann undid the three dead bolts necessary for life on Astor Place and let Amy into the hallway.

“What are you doing here?” Ann said, amazed.

“Seeing if you are dead or alive, since I’ve been calling every day and getting no answer.”

“I disconnected the phone.”

“That was very smart.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Heath.”

“Or anybody else, apparently.” Amy unbuttoned her coat and removed it, shivering. “I always forget how cold it gets up here. Why do people choose to live in such an ungodly climate? I took this rag out of mothballs, and burned up the rest of my frequent flyer miles, trekking up here for the weekend when Heath told me you had left him. What the hell is going on? The last time I talked to you all was wedded bliss, and now this.”

“I told him I was pregnant and he said he wasn’t the father,” Ann stated flatly.

Amy’s face went blank with shock. “What?” she finally said, inadequately.

“I guess he didn’t tell you that part of it, did he?” Ann observed dryly.

“No.” Amy followed Ann into the tiny living room and collapsed into a chair, tossing her overnight bag on the sofa. “He certainly has had you on a roller coaster, hasn’t he?”

“The ride’s over,” Ann said.

“Does he know that?”

“I’ve tried to make it perfectly clear.”

“Has he been here?”

Ann nodded. “I wouldn’t let him in and threatened to call the police. I thought he would kick in the door until I told him if I had a miscarriage it would be his fault. I assumed he had come back when I heard you in the hall.”
 

“Is he still in New York?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think he could tear himself away from his precious business for longer than a day or two.”

Amy pulled her sweater over her head and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. “God, it’s hot in here. Coming inside is like going from an ice chest into a baker’s oven. No wonder everybody in New York is sick.”

“Steam heat in these old buildings,” Ann said, gesturing to the burbling radiator.

Amy sighed and removed her galoshes, frowning at the melting puddle of goo they had shed. “I remember that you were worried about how Heath would receive this news, but whatever gave him the idea that the child wasn’t his?”

“He had a vasectomy eight years ago.”

Amy stared at her. “Why would he do that?”

“So he wouldn’t produce any little alcoholics like his father. At least, that’s what he says.”

“But you don’t buy it.”

“I think the whole idea of family life is so blighted for him that he just wants to avoid the issue.”

“But he should have told you.”

“You know how we began this marriage, it didn’t really come into play then. And later I think he was afraid to say anything because I let him know I wanted children.”

“So rather than think medical science had failed, he assumed you had an affair?” Amy said, staring down in dismay at her equally wet shoes.

“Oh, who knows? I don’t care anymore. I only know what he said and that’s enough for me.”
 

“How can you stand it here with all this sleet and snow?” Amy asked, staring out the window.

“I prefer it to the company on Lime Island.” Ann replied, hanging Amy’s coat in her closet.

“What have you been doing holed up in here?”

“Working. Daniela sent me my manuscript.”

“How can you concentrate?”

“I couldn’t at first but it’s getting better.”

“Have you seen your doctor here?”

Ann nodded.

“How pregnant are you?”

“Three months, according to the sonogram.”

“So it happened when you first got married.”

Ann nodded.

“Heath has a lot of money. He can pursue you to the ends of the earth if he wants to.”

“Let him try,” Ann said grimly.

“So you’re determined to fight him?”

“I’m determined to do what’s best for me and the baby, whatever that may be.”

“Going up against somebody who has that many resources is a formidable challenge,” Amy said warningly.

“I’m equal to it,” Ann replied.

Amy stared at her, then began to smile slowly.

“I believe you are,” she said.

“You must be frozen, coming here directly from Florida,” Ann observed. “What would you like? Something hot to eat or drink? Coffee, tea, cocoa?”

“Bourbon,” Amy answered.

“I don’t think I have any liquor.”

“Well, look and see, will you?”

Ann went into the galley kitchen and returned with two bottles. She held them out and Amy took one look and gagged.

“That’s cooking sherry,” Amy said disgustedly.

“How about this other one?”

“Peach liqueur? Forget it. Why do you have to be such a teetotaler?”

“I’m not a teetotaler, I just never buy booze. I don’t entertain much.”

“Well, Zelda, it looks like we are going to go for a walk to that cozy little bar across the street.”

“Oh, all right, if you insist.” Ann was moving toward the closet when knocking sounded at her door again.

The two women looked at one another in alarm.

“Ann, it’s Heath,” a male voice said.

“I think I hear my mother calling me,” Amy said swiftly, standing abruptly.

“Amy, if you run out on me now, I will never speak to you again,” Ann whispered fiercely.

Amy looked dismayed but stayed where she was.

Ann walked over to the hall, put her mouth to the doorjamb, and said as firmly as she could, “Heath, I’ve already told you that I don’t want to talk to you.”

She could hear his heavy sigh from the other side of the paneled door.

“Ann, I’ve had legal advice on this,” Heath replied wearily. “I can get a court order allowing me access to you if you want me to go that route.”

“On what grounds?” Ann demanded.

“You sound like a lawyer,” Amy whispered.

Ann held up her hand for Amy to be quiet.

“On the grounds that you’re sequestered here in an emotionally disturbed state and may be endangering the life of our unborn child,” Heath replied.

This remark so enraged Ann that she yanked open the door and confronted Heath, hands on hips, eyes blazing.

“How dare you?” she demanded. “Not wanting to see you means that I am emotionally sound, not disturbed, and since when are you concerned about the welfare of a child you don’t want and furthermore claim isn’t yours?”

Amy was slinking past Ann soundlessly, heading straight for the closet door.

“Stop!” Ann said, whirling to confront her.

Amy stopped.

“Why don’t you let Amy go? This is embarrassing her and isn’t doing much for me, either,” Heath said. “We’ll have to talk about this sooner or later, it might as well be now.”

Ann glared at him, thinking it over as Amy looked at her hopefully.

“All right,” Ann finally said.

“I’ll be across the square in the Shamrock Shanty,” Amy said swiftly, grabbing her coat from the closet. She gave Ann the thumbs up sign behind Heath’s head as she fled through the door and closed it behind her.

“How can you live in this place?” Heath asked, looking around him in amazement. “It’s a telephone booth.”

“I’m not in the mood for small talk, Heath,” Ann said directly. “Get to the point.”

“I want you back, you and the baby,” he said.

“I take it you saw your doctor and he confirmed that you could be the baby’s father?” Ann said.

“I haven’t seen anyone. I know the baby is mine. You’re in love with me and you wouldn’t have slept with anyone else.”

“And when did you receive this dramatic revelation?”

“I’ve known it all along.”

“So you had a psychotic episode when you accused me of being unfaithful?”

Heath slumped in resignation, unable to reply. He unbuttoned the cashmere stadium coat he was wearing. “Do you think it would be possible for me to sit down? My limo didn’t show up at the airport and I had to take a taxi here from Kennedy.”

“What a shame,” Ann said, stepping aside, no trace of sympathy in her voice.

Heath dumped the heavy coat on a chair and sat on the small sofa. He was wearing a cream-colored wool crew-neck sweater and chocolate brown slacks with his customary moccasins, which were now stained dark with dampness.

“Take your shoes off,” Ann said.

He glanced up at her. “What?”

“Take your shoes off, they’re soaked right through. You’ll catch a cold.”

He obeyed, peeling off the wet socks, too. Ann took the socks and draped them over the radiator, where they sizzled and emitted a satisfying, safe- from-the-storm odor of wet wool and steam. She shoved both of the stiffening moccasins under the radiator and turned around to face him.

“Tm not coming back,” Ann said.

Heath looked at her, then away. “Ann, I’m sorry for what I said. It was uncalled for and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“I believe that you’re sorry. This time, as you were the last time. And you’ll be sorry the next time, too.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“There will be a next time, because the fundamental need to hurt me and drive me away will always be there. I can’t raise a child in that atmosphere. I won’t.”

“So you’re saying there’s nothing I can do to make it right and have a life with you?”

“There is.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Like what?” he said.

“Go for counseling. I’ll go with you.”

His face closed. “No.”

She picked up his coat and handed it to him. “Then there’s nothing more to say,” Ann stated.

He dropped the coat on the floor. “I’m not going to a headshrinker to dredge up all that crap from my childhood that I’ve been trying to forget for twenty years!”

“It’s the source of your problems now, Heath. Surely you must see that.”

“I don’t need to be analyzed by you or anybody else, thank you very much.”

“Fine. Goodbye. I think you can see the door from where you’re sitting.”

His eyes narrowed. “How could I have forgotten how tough you can be?”

Ann said nothing.

“I should have remembered the way you were with your father,” he added.

“If I’m tough, as you put it, you’ve forced it on me. I’m not going to raise this child in an environment as dysfunctional as the one which surrounded you.”

“And the only way to prevent that is to get rid of me?” Heath inquired.

“Or help you.”

“I don’t need that kind of help. We can work things out between us.”

“We’ve tried that, Heath! How’s it going?”

Heath’s mouth became a hard line. “If you refuse to come back to me, I can sue you for custody once the baby is born.”

“Go right ahead. I’ll be very happy to say that you had an operation to prevent your ever fathering children and then denied paternity when I told you I was pregnant. I doubt very much that a judge will give custody to a man who never wanted children in the first place and would spend all his time working while the child was left in the care of servants.”

He gazed at her levelly. “I see you’ve already thought about all of this.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to think.”

“So this is how we’re going to leave it?”

“I guess so.”

“What are you going to do? Stay here?”

“Yes. I have a good doctor, the hospital is two blocks away. I have plenty of work to keep me busy.”

“What about the trip back to Italy?”

“It can wait until after the baby is born.”

“I’ll want to see it.”

“I’m sure we can work out reasonable visitation rights, other people do.”
 

“As crisp as lettuce, aren’t you?” he said bitterly.

Ann relented. “Look, Heath, I know you can afford to hire a legal team that will drag me through the courts for years. For that matter, you can probably pay off anybody you want in order to make this come out exactly the way you please. But I’m asking you, for the sake of the baby, not to do that.”

He was silent, then picked up his coat and put it over his arm. He stepped into his fried shoes and then draped his other arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t, Heath. Please don’t. That’s not going to help this situation.”