Marriage In Name Only

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “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.”

  “At your company? Uh-oh.”

  “We’re keeping it a secret.”

  “Good luck. He’s not married?”

  “Newly divorced.”

  “How newly?”

  “The decree was final three weeks ago.”

  “Oh, Amy, you’d better be careful.”

  “Don’t you want to hear about the date?”

  “Sure,” Ann said. She sat and propped her feet up on a hassock, noting the degree of swelling in her ankles.

  Not too bad but it was still early in the day.

  Ann folded her hands over her protruding belly and settled in to listen.

  * * * *

  Three days later, at 2:00 a.m., Ann struggled off her bed and waddled out into the li
ving room, where Amy was sleeping on the foldout sofa.

  “Amy, wake up!” Ann said, shaking her friend’s shoulder aggressively.

  Amy sat up, her hair over one eye.

  “Wassa madda?” she mumbled.

  “My water broke,” Ann said.

  “Wassitmean?”

  “It means I have to get to the hospital right now. Will you call a cab while I get dressed?”

  Amy stumbled to her feet and then into the kitchen, where she splashed cold water on her face and then returned, looking more alert but somewhat alarmed.

  “Where’s the number?” she asked.

  “On the pad by the phone.”

  “I guess this is really happening,” she said as Ann returned to the bedroom.

  I guess it really is, Ann thought, and went to the closet for her clothes.

  * * * *

  “He is just beautiful,” Amy said to Joan, beaming, peering into the isolette as she stood next to the Jensens. The baby responded by opening his mouth in a toothless yawn and beating the air with two tiny red fists.

  “You know who he looks like,” Joan said.

  “Like Heath with blue eyes,” Amy replied.

  “They all have blue eyes at the beginning.”

  “His will stay blue. He has Ann’s eyes.” Amy looked over at Joe. “I can’t believe you got here before Heath.”

  “We were here for the weekend to see Joan’s sister.”

  “Did you call him?” Joan asked Amy.

  Amy nodded.

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t say anything. He was already gone. His secretary told me that he had planned to be here for the due date.”

  “Then he should be walking through that door any minute,” Joe observed.

  The elevator doors parted and Heath stepped into the hall, carrying a large armload of roses wrapped in a florist’s green waxed paper.

  “You could make money with your psychic powers,” Amy said to Joe.

  “Remember that we all promised to be pleasant,” Joan said archly.

  Heath looked at the little group standing at the nursery window and hesitated, then took a deep breath. He was wearing light summer slacks and a pale yellow polo shirt that emphasized his dark good looks. He walked up beside Amy and stood looking at the little plastic carrier with “Bodine” written on the I.D. card. He didn’t say a word but Amy watched his eyes fill with tears. He bent his head as they ran silently down his face.

  Amy felt her hostility toward him drain away, to be replaced by an almost reluctant compassion. She looked significantly at Joan, who took Joe’s arm and steered her husband away from the nursery and back toward the nurses’ station.

  “I wanted to be here for the birth,” Heath finally said. His voice sounded congested, like he had a cold.

  “You just missed it. She was a little early.”

  “Is Ann all right?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “And the baby?”

  “Perfect.”

  Heath closed his eyes, his carved profile a study in regret. “I don’t deserve either of them.”

  Amy found herself patting his arm. No wonder Ann couldn’t stay angry with him.

  “I want to see Ann,” he said.

  “She’s still sleeping.”

  “Then I’ll wait.” He looked around him restlessly for the visitors’ lounge.

  “The waiting room is just down the hall,” Amy said. “I’ll show you.”

  He followed her to the sterile cubicle, which had a gray and white tiled floor and plastic gray and blue chairs. Heath sat in one of them and stared at the floor, still clutching the flowers.

  “Should I take those?” Amy asked. “I’ll get someone to put them in water.”

  He handed them to her.

  “Was she in a lot of pain?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ve heard labor is very painful,” he said.

  “Most women seem to survive it.”

  He wasn’t listening.

  “I think I’ll just go see the Jensens. We were about to leave for lunch when you arrived. Do you want to join us?”

  Heath didn’t answer.

  “Heath?”

  He looted up, startled.

  “Lunch?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll stay here.”

  Amy gave up and found the Jensens, who were lingering near the nurses’ station.

  “Let’s go. He’s in another world. I don’t think he’ll be focusing on anything until he sees Ann.”

  “Should I go talk to him?” Joe asked.

  “I think it’s better to leave him alone, Joe. It’s obvious that he has a lot on his mind.”

  Amy gave the flowers to the aide assigned to Ann’s room and the trio departed.

  In the waiting room Heath sat alone, his eyes fixed on the checkered floor.

  * * * *

  When Amy returned to Ann’s room two hours later, minus the Jensens, Ann was reading the tags on several arrangements of flowers that had been delivered to her room.

  “Who from?” Amy asked.

  “The blue and white carnations are from Tim, and the glads are from my editor. The jade plant is from Daniela and Victor.”

  “Where’s Heath?”

  Ann stared at her. “Heath?”

  “Yes, he was here just before I left and he said he would wait until you woke up to visit you.”

  Ann looked away, her expression thoughtful.

  “You didn’t see him?” Amy asked in astonishment, looking around as if Heath might be lurking somewhere in the room.

  Ann shook her head.

  “I can’t believe it. He had this huge bunch of roses and—” Amy stopped. “You mean, he just left?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Why on earth would he do that?”

  “Lost his nerve?” Ann suggested softly.

  “Heath? Never.”

  “You don’t know him the way I do.”

  “That’s true,” Amy said archly.

  “Did he see the baby?” Ann asked.

  Amy nodded. “He was very touched, Annie.”

  “Not touched enough to stick around,” Ann replied, shaking her head.

  A nurse came into the room carrying a squalling bundle. “Somebody’s hungry, Mother,” she said.

  Ann held out her arms and the nurse placed the baby in Ann’s embrace. His little face was wrinkled and his eyes screwed shut as his lips worked furiously.

  “Will you feed the kid, already?” Amy said. “He sounds like a fire siren.”

  “Healthy lungs,” the nurse said approvingly.

  Ann unbuttoned the top of her nightgown and pushed her nipple into the baby’s mouth. He rooted frantically for a couple of seconds and then settled down to suck contentedly.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” Amy said wonderingly, smiling.

  “He does all the work,” Ann replied.

  “Did Mrs. Bodine’s visitor leave?” Amy asked the nurse.

  “Which one?”

  “Her husband,” Amy said dryly.

  “That young man was Mr. Bodine?” the nurse said, surprised. “He never told me. He left about an hour ago. That reminds me, I’ll go and get the flowers he brought.”

  Amy waited until the nurse had gone back into the hall before she said, “I’ll never understand that man.”

  “Maybe he just wanted to see the baby, not me,” Ann said dejectedly, looking down at her son.

  “Oh, Annie, no. He really was concerned about you.” Seeking to change the subject, she said, “What are you going to name that little one?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It says Baby Boy Bodine on his isolette, maybe you can stick with that.”

  Ann smiled weakly at the feeble joke, then lifted the baby to her shoulder to burp him. After a few firm pats, he belched loudly.

  “Healthy digestive system,” the nurse confirmed as she entered the room again with Heath’s
flowers arranged in a vase and an ivy plant in her other hand.

  “This place is starting to look like a greenhouse,” Amy said, making room for the ivy on Ann’s bedside stand. “Who’s Ben Rowell?” she added, reading the card.

  “One of Heath’s employees.”

  “I guess you’ll be getting a few more of those.”

  “Probably. I’ll ask the staff to deliver them to a rest home or something.”

  They both looked up as Heath suddenly appeared in the doorway, his arms laden with a football, a basketball, and a pair of roller skates. The expression on his face as he saw his son nursing at Ann’s breast was one she would never forget.

  “I’ll be back tonight, Ann,” Amy said, heading for the door. She paused at Heath’s side and kissed his cheek.

  “Congratulations, Daddy,” she said, and left.

  “There’s a sporting goods store across the street. I thought I’d kill a little time until you woke up,” Heath said nervously by way of explanation.

  “I think he’s a little young for those, Heath.”

  “I know. I just wanted to do.. .something,” he said lamely. He put down his burdens and pulled a chair next to the bed, watching wordlessly as the baby fed, making satisfied sucking noises.

  “He has a good appetite,” Heath said.

  “Yes.”

  The baby’s activity slowed as they looked on, fascinated. His jaws finally ceased motion altogether, his eyes closed and, in seconds, he was asleep.

  “That fast?” Heath said.

  “The nurse said they go out like lights at this stage.” Ann settled the baby next to her on the bed and tucked his receiving blanket up to his chin.

  When she looked back at Heath, he had slumped visibly and had put his head in his hands.

  “Heath?” she said softly.

  He looked up, took her free hand, and held it to his lips.

  “Isn’t your son beautiful?” Ann asked.

  He nodded, swallowing painfully. Then, to Ann’s complete amazement, Heath leaned forward to put his head in her lap and began to sob.

  “I didn’t want you to be alone through this,” he said thickly. “I wanted all of it to be different.”

  “It’s all right,” Ann said, stroking his hair gently. “It’s all over now.”

  “You don’t understand.” He lifted his head and she saw that his face was stained with tears.

  Even when they were teenagers she had never seen him cry.

  “I thought so many times of calling you, but...” He gestured, unable to continue.

  “What?” Ann prompted him.