Native Affairs (57 page)

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Authors: Doreen Owens Malek

BOOK: Native Affairs
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They stood facing each other, emotional, spent Jennifer felt the rejection and struck back with her best weapon, words.

“Funny how these scruples always arise after, you’ve slept with me,” she said nastily. “They never seem to bother you before.”

He flinched, as if she’d struck him. “That’s a cheap shot, Jen, unworthy of you. I don’t deserve it.”

Jennifer put her hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. She would not cry in front of him.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “I’m hurt and confused and somewhat lacking in tact this evening.”

Lee studied her face, his own unreadable. “I’m sorry I hurt you, paleface. I never meant to.”

“Just go, will you please go?”

She didn’t watch him go back to the bedroom for the rest of his things and didn’t turn when she heard him pause behind her.

“Jen, I—” he began.

“Leave. Now.”

He did so, and she waited for the sound of his motor to fade away outside before she gave way to the tears she’d held in check so carefully.

Goodbye, Nitsokan.

 

Chapter 8

 

Jennifer made herself sick over the whole thing. She threw up her breakfast two mornings running and was so tired she could barely keep awake. To make matters worse, she was overdue for her period, and felt bloated and out of sorts. She called in sick to work for several days and spent her time at home sleeping and feeling sorry for herself.

Dolores kept her posted on what was happening with daily telephone calls and startled her by concluding one conversation with the bulletin that Lee was also.

“What’s the matter with him?” Jennifer asked, alarmed.

“He has the chicken pox.”

Jennifer laughed so hard she dropped the phone.

Dolores’ voice came tinnily through the receiver. “Jen? You still there?”

Jennifer picked the receiver up again, wiping her eyes. “Yes, I’m still here. Are you sure about that story?”

“Sure as sunrise. They think he caught it during that visit to the children’s hospital with you. You’ll probably be next.”

“No fear. I had it in second grade. Whatever I’ve got, that isn’t it How long will he be off the roster?”

“Two weeks or so. Roy says he’s mad as hell. Everybody else thinks it’s hilarious. So do you, I gather.”

“Funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

There was a pause. “What’s going on with you and Lee?”

“Nothing.” At the moment, that was true.

“Hmmm. A likely story. Well, I won’t keep you. Rest up and take care of yourself, I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye-bye.”

“Bye.” Jennifer hung up, still chuckling. She went to her bedroom to turn on the radio, and glanced at the pillows where Lee’s head had rested. Her resentment of him faded with each passing day, leaving only the love behind. He couldn’t help how he felt, and his convictions were hurting him as well as Jennifer. No one would ever be as good for him or love him as much as Jennifer did. And he would never want anyone the way he wanted her. Jennifer knew that on some subconscious level he was well aware of all this, and he would have to live with the choice he had made for the rest of his life.

She lay down on the bed and took another nap.

* * * *

Jennifer was back at work a week when Dolores buzzed her on the intercom one afternoon.

“Dawn Blacktree to see you,” Dolores said.

Jennifer put aside the work she was doing, puzzled. What was this? She had sent Lee a funny get well card, but had not expected a reply and so far had received none. Could this visit be connected to that impulsive act? Was Dawn here to tell her that Lee wanted no further communication between them?

“Send her in,” she told Dolores.

Dolores opened the door, eyeing Jennifer cautiously. She lingered as long as was decently possible and then went out quietly, closing the door. Jennifer wasn’t fooled. She was probably standing on the other side with a glass to her ear.

Dawn was looking very lovely, dressed in a deep rose pantsuit, her glorious hair falling straight to her waist from a center part. She seated herself gracefully in a conference chair and gazed serenely at Jennifer.

“Hello, Dawn. It’s nice to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“Lee asked me to come in to see you. Our local newspaper in Montana needs copies of some of his publicity releases. They’re preparing a Lee Youngson Day back home, a sort of a county fair, and the proceeds from the booths and exhibits will go to the Indian school Lee and I attended. This is a list of the publications and the dates.”

Jennifer took the sheet of paper Dawn handed her, aware that Lee had sent Dawn to do this rather than call Jennifer himself.

“I’ll have duplicates prepared today and mail them to Lee’s house.”

“Thank you.” Dawn smoothed her tunic over her knees. “That is not the only reason I came, Ms. Gardiner.”

“Please call me Jennifer.”

“All right, Jennifer. I could have telephoned, but I wanted to see you in person.”

Jennifer waited, watching the Indian girl.

“Lee has been ill,” Dawn began.

“Yes, I heard that I hope he’s feeling better now.”

Dawn met Jennifer’s eyes directly, her black gaze candid. “His illness has been of the spirit as well as the body.”

“I...don’t know what you mean.”

Dawn smiled gently. “I think you do.”

Jennifer said nothing, listening.

“Nitsokan…admires you very much,” Dawn said, reverting to the use of Lee’s Pikuni name, choosing her words carefully. “He is most unhappy right now.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

Dawn’s eyes were wise. “You are an intelligent woman, Jennifer. You say the correct, polite thing, but you are thinking all the while, your mind racing as you make pleasant conversation.”

“Dawn—”

Dawn held up her hand. “Please let me finish. You did not know Nitsokan as a child, as I did. I was younger, yes, but I saw a great deal with the clarity of a child’s vision. You do not know what his life was like. He was taken away from us to play football, and he has been straddling two worlds ever since, not completely at home in either one. For a man of his strong loyalties, deep commitments, it is very difficult.”

“I can appreciate that.”

Dawn smiled again. “Can you? I think not.”

Jennifer was tired of being lectured about her lack of perception. “I am not completely without understanding, Dawn.”

Dawn folded her hands in her lap. “I see that you resent me, because you think I am his lover. I am not I wish to be, and his wife also, but he does not love me. I think he wants to, but he does not.”

Jennifer was stunned into silence. That was quite an admission.

“You look surprised,” Dawn said.

“I am. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

“To help you,” Dawn said simply. “I know how hard it is to care for Nitsokan. Others have come and gone, attracted perhaps by the money and the glamour, what he calls ‘the image,’ but I sense these things mean little to you. If you were like the rest, he would not think so much of you. He has not told me this, but I have guessed. He would be very angry if he knew I was talking to you this way, but because of his regard for you, I have done so.”

Jennifer didn’t know what to say. Such generosity to a person Dawn could only view as a rival was very rare.

“I must go,” Dawn said, rising.

Jennifer walked her to the elevator. As the doors opened, she put a hand on Dawn’s arm.

“I hope he does find happiness, Dawn.”

Dawn smiled sadly. “For Nitsokan, it will not be easy. Like the sun which is his totem, he bums brightly, but with a dangerous light.” She inclined her head in farewell as the doors closed in front of her.

Jennifer stood staring at the space Dawn had occupied seconds before. The Blackfoot girl’s innate dignity and quiet self-containment had made her feel inadequate, outclassed. She shook off the notion and turned to go back to her office, colliding with Dolores.

“What?” Dolores demanded. “What?”

“You’re stuttering, Dolores.”

“Why did she come here?”

“She wanted copies of some of Lee’s releases. No big deal.”

“Then why did you look like that when you came out of your office with her?”

“Like what?”

“Like she had dropped a bomb on you.”

“Your ever-exotic imagination is working overtime again, Dolores.”

“Don’t give me that If you would only—”

“Do you like your job here, Dolores?” Jennifer interrupted pointedly.

“Boy, are you a grouch.”

“I seem to recall telling you that a memo had to be hand delivered to the city editor at the Inquirer by four o’clock. To my knowledge, you haven’t left yet.”

Dolores took her jacket from the back of her chair and picked up the envelope from her desk. “I’m gone,” she said. “But I hope your disposition has improved by the time I get back.”

Her boss reflected glumly that there wasn’t much chance of that.

* * * *

Jennifer realized that she was pregnant on a gorgeous October day at 8:30 in the morning. She had struggled to button her blouse, and when her skirt wouldn’t zip, she gave up in frustration, reaching for a looser pair of slacks instead. What on earth had she been eating to cause this? She’d been too nauseated lately to really…

Her hand froze in the act of reaching into the closet, and she slowly sank to the edge of the bed. She’d missed a period, but had thought that was caused by her bout with what she’d assumed was the flu. Until now she hadn’t connected the frequent upset stomachs, the fatigue, the general malaise with the first, and most important, clue. She sat for a few moments, thinking, and then took off her remaining clothes and examined herself in the full-length mirror.

There was no doubt about it. Her breasts were fuller and her usually flat stomach looked rounder, more pronounced. The difference was slight, but noticeable if you looked for it.

She raced to the kitchen, stark naked, and ripped the calendar off the wall. Her breath coming in excited gasps, she counted off the days, and then dropped it on the table, a look of wonder on her face. It was true.

Jennifer called her gynecologist and made an appointment for the following week. Then she called her office and said that she would be late. This was too much to absorb in a few minutes. If she tried to drive to work now, she would probably wind up in a wreck.

Jennifer’s first reaction was a surge of pure, unadulterated joy. Lee’s baby. She was going to have Lee’s baby.

Not for a moment did she consider the alternative. She wanted to be a mother, and a mother to this child in particular.

A curious calmness descended over her after the initial burst of emotion. Jennifer knew exactly what she would do. She would find another job, move away, and raise the child by herself.

Telling Lee was out of the question. His strong sense of duty would compel him to marry her, and she didn’t need a shotgun husband. If he hadn’t wanted her enough to take the step before, she would not use this as an added inducement.

Jennifer got up and headed for the bedroom to dress again, grinning to herself. Lee’s baby! Maybe it would look like him, have his smile, his easy, effortless grace. She sagged against the wall, laughing out loud. What a gas.

* * * *

Jennifer was waiting for Marilyn when she got home from work, toting a sack of groceries and Jeff’s bookbag and lunchbox. Jeff was spending the night with a friend, and had sent the day’s debris home with Mom.

“Hi, Jen,” Marilyn said, as she unlocked her door and staggered inside. “What are you doing here?”

“I need your advice.”

“What, again? Cawassa’s favorite son up to his old tricks? Come on in, just let me dump this stuff.”

Marilyn set her bundles down on the kitchen table and kept walking, finally collapsing in a living room chair. “Well?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Marilyn got up again instantly, raising her hand to forestall further discussion. “Don’t say anything else, I beg of you. I need a drink before I hear the rest of this.” She got a bottle and a shot glass from the dry sink in the corner and bolted two fingers before looking at Jennifer again.

“Would you mind repeating that, please?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“You think you’re pregnant Don’t you know?”

“Well, I’m new at this, Marilyn, I’ve never been pregnant before. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. But I’m pretty sure, and I’m going to Dr. Bellini next Wednesday.”

Marilyn closed her eyes. “Jennifer, what is wrong with you? How could you be so irresponsible?”

“Don’t scold me, Marilyn. I’ve been thinking.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“I’m going to have it.”

Marilyn set her glass down with a bang. “Now I’ve heard everything. Do you realize what you’d be taking on? Raising a child is a full-time, lifelong responsibility. I’ve done it alone for years and I know what I’m talking about.”

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