Anne was slightly surprised by this question, and she took a minute to consider it before she answered. “I guess he seems happy. He wasn’t complaining, and he didn’t look like he was put out by having to take care of her, but he doesn’t know what he’s in for.”
“Isn’t that up to him? He has the right to make the decisions he believes are best for him, as do you or I,” Dr. Martz pointed out patiently.
“Well, someone needs to tell him what’s really going on,” Anne told her.
“And what is that?”
“She’s using him. If she
is
pregnant, it probably isn’t his. She wants to trap him and force him into a marriage so she can have his money. Not to mention, he’s a handsome young man, she probably just wants to have some kind of control over him. He would never leave her, you know, if he married her.”
Dr. Martz looked at Anne. It was entirely possible that Anne was right, but highly unlikely. She always seemed to jump to conclusions about people who were intimately involved with her children. No one was good enough. “Anne, is it possible that you’re judging this person too quickly?” She had encouraged Anne to work on her snap judgments
“She’s a hussy. Franklin even came to the office to talk to me about her. He insisted that she was sweet and innocent. She’s probably sleeping with him, too. Who knows, maybe he’s the father.” Anne could almost see it. He gave the little hussy the baby he couldn’t give her. Figures.
“Anne, I’d like you to take a deep breath. I know Franklin was unfaithful, but that doesn’t mean that this girl is sleeping with him.” She looked at Anne calmly. “Is it possible that you don’t dislike this girl as much as you dislike her taking center stage in Jason’s life?”
“No. That’s ridiculous. I’ve never been the center of Jason’s life. I haven’t heard from him much since he went to college. He’s only been with this girl for a short while. He can’t possibly know enough about her to consider marrying her. He’s only doing it because she told him she was pregnant.”
“So you don’t feel as though this girl is taking Jason away from you?”
“No. She’s using him,” Anne insisted impatiently. “Oh, the way she manipulated him at the house and the restaurant this weekend. Playing the innocent and chatting politely with the trick-or-treaters. Then she was so rotten at Applebee’s. I’ll never be able to go back there. I was forced to say some pretty harsh things in retaliation.”
“What happened at Applebee’s?”
“They told me about the wedding and the baby while we had lunch. I was so surprised I couldn’t believe it. I asked Jason if he even knew the baby was his, and he claimed she was a virgin. Right there, loud as can be, in front of everyone! I was completely mortified. Who says things like that in public? It was awful. Then Alexia accused me of not caring about my own grandchild. The very nerve of that girl. I told Jason she was just trying to trap him. She took off, running to the bathroom, alligator tears in her eyes. He basically told me he didn’t want me to have anything to do with him and left me there, everyone in the place looking at me. It was simply dreadful, all because of that little hussy.”
“You asked him if the baby was his?” Dr. Martz asked, surprised. Anne was difficult, harsh even, but this was a bit much even for her.
“Of course I did, Lisa. In this day and age? I watch Maury, I know what happens.” Anne didn’t generally call her doctor by first name, but she was getting more comfortable with it recently.
Lisa choked off a laugh. “Anne, I highly doubt that this would be a case for Maury. At least in the manner you’re suggesting. Is it possible that Jason is the father of this baby?”
“Maybe, but I seriously doubt it. He says he’s been living with her for six months or something. He claims she was a virgin, but he might not know how to tell.”
“Anne, Jason isn’t a child. I’m sure he knows how to tell if a woman is a virgin or not. He probably learned it in health class or sex education, if nothing else.” Lisa could tell Anne wasn’t going to change her mind at this junction so she decided to switch topics. “Franklin came to your office, today?” Lisa knew that the only time Franklin approached Anne was when she was at work.
“Yes. He was terrible. He accused me of trying to cause Alexia to miscarry. He was singing her praises the entire time he was there.”
“Are you trying to cause Alexia to miscarry?” Lisa asked, almost curious.
“Of course not. I may not like her, but I know how awful that is. I’ve lived through it, and I actually wanted the baby.”
“It sounds like Jason and Alexia want this baby, too,” Lisa conjectured softly.
“Jason does. He’d make a great father. He’s so strong, yet tender. His temper can be a little severe, but he’d love a baby.”
“You say Jason wants this baby, but what about Alexia. She has choices, you know. If she didn’t want the baby she could give it up for adoption, or even abort.”
Anne drew in her breath sharply. She’d never thought about Alexia killing Jason’s baby. He’d be so heartbroken. He honestly wanted this baby, Anne could tell from how protective he’d been of Alexia the entire time they were at her house; how he’d encouraged her to eat and drink. “She wouldn’t dare. Jason would never agree to it. He has rights, too.”
Lisa watched Anne, wondering if she’d realize just how hypocritical she sounded. This was one of the most frustrating parts of her job. “Anne, you don’t believe the baby is Jason’s, why would it matter if Alexia aborted?”
“Jason believes it’s his. I believe Jason. Jason has a right to see his baby. Alexia doesn’t have the right to just destroy the fetus when Jason wants it,” Anne said hotly.
Lisa looked at Anne. “If the baby is Jason’s, would you be excited about being a grandmother?”
“Of course. I love my grandchildren. I’m a little disappointed that his mother doesn’t want him, but Jason has enough love for the baby that I’m sure things would work out. He’s a wonderful man, and I’m sure he’d find someone to marry that would love him and the baby.”
“How do you feel about Jason and Alexia getting married? You said Jason was angry with you?”
“I don’t think she’s good enough for Jason. She’s just after his money. Jason basically told me he didn’t want anything to do with me. I doubt I’m invited to the wedding, but that’s fine because I doubt I’d bother going anyway. I did get an invitation in the mail to her wedding shower. I’m definitely not going to that.”
“They sent you an invitation even though the three of you argued?”
“Yes. I imagine it was sent out the day we argued, so they didn’t have a choice to take it back. I’ve half a mind to call them and tell them what I think of their sinful marriage.”
“I see. Well, I would recommend giving Alexia another chance. Remember, we’re trying not to make such immediate judgments, right? Maybe it was just a bad day for you both, and you just didn’t click.”
“I doubt it,” Anne said, looking at the clock. It never felt like she’d been tal
king with Dr. Martz for half an
hour.
“I would also recommend that you talk to Jason. It sounds like your relationship is changing, and you may want to discuss your fight. Share your feelings with each other, but don’t be too aggressive. I see you in less than a week; try to talk with Jason before then, please”
Anne didn’t really know how to respond. Talk to Jason? Give Alexia another chance? She wasn’t sure she was willing. Jason would come around, eventually, perhaps. He was a smart man. He’d see through Alexia before too much longer, and then she’d be able to talk to him, comfort him even. After all, she knew what it was like to be betrayed.
Chapter Thirteen
Merle went home Tuesday evening after another long grueling day at work. He was determined to stay on schedule with the Anderson project. Jim and the mortar workers were pulling overtime to finish the fireplace, and he made the electricians pick up the pace so the drywall could be put in place. If they could keep up this speed, they’d be caught up by Friday, if not sooner. Anderson wanted to move in before Christmas, and Merle couldn’t blame him, but it was making things damned difficult. Tomorrow would be another full day, but he had one stop he planned on making that had nothing to do with work.
Anne had managed to convince Merle that he needed to donate blood. She didn’t know it, but she had. She reminded him of all the generous things Martha used to do to help the community, and he realized that in this way he could help in Martha’s memory. He would donate blood to help save a life. He was a healthy man, especially for his age, and there was no reason why he couldn’t donate on occasion. Tomorrow he would go in and tell Anne he wanted to sign up to donate. He could almost picture the smile of surprise on her sweet face when she saw him.
She was so convincing in the truck on the way back to her office, that Merle was almost ready to have every willing and able construction worker take a few hours off to donate blood. She highlighted the health benefits for the donor, and she really impressed Merle by describing all the ways the blood could be used. She told him stories of children whose lives had been saved because they were able to receive blood from a Red Cross donor. In less than five minutes she’d had him convinced hook, line, and sinker that he needed to donate blood, often.
Merle wasn’t able to make it to the Red Cross in the morning, so he took a late lunch hoping he’d be able to run by the office and catch Anne after lunch. When he walked in, he looked around, curiously, but couldn’t find her. The nice receptionist was more than willing to help him, however, and Merle signed up to donate at the next blood drive. He was waiting for the receptionist to input his name and address into the database when he heard muffled yelling from somewhere within the building. He recognized the sound of a door slamming, before a man walked out, shaking his head in disgust.
“I don’t know why he bothers,” the receptionist m
umbled under her breath, gaining
Merle’s interest.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing. What did you say your name was again?”
“Merle Johnson,”
“Okay, and what was your address?”
“29653 West Corington”
“Oh. Anne lives on that road,” Claire said, surprised. “She’s the secretary here. I’m covering the desk while she’s in back.”
Well that explains why she was on the road Monday night. She was going home,
Merle thought to himself. “Can I talk to Anne for a moment?” He wondered what she was doing in the back that would take her away from her receptionist duties, but he wasn’t familiar with the Red Cross, and couldn’t even wager a guess.
“Normally I’d say sure, but I’m guessing she’s not in the mood to see anyone, Merle. That was her ex-husband that just left,” Claire told him, assuming that since he lived near Anne he knew at least some of the situation. “They fight every time he stops in. I don’t know why he still comes here.”
“I see.” Merle would never have guessed Anne was divorced. Widowed maybe, but divorced seemed surprising. She was pleasant to talk to the other night; he hoped she hadn’t been in an abusive relationship. That would be too bad. Merle felt a sudden stab of sympathy for her. His mother had been in an abusive relationship with his father, and Merle had seen firsthand just how tormented and traumatized she’d been. He didn’t like the idea of Anne suffering such abuse.
“Okay, well you’re in the system now. I imagine Anne will be calling you every six weeks or so asking you to donate again. She’s quite convincing.”
“I’ve noticed that. She convinced me yesterday in less than five minutes.”
“Yeah, that’s our Anne.”
“Well, I better get back to work. You have a nice day now,” he said, nodding to her before leaving. He returned to the construction site to see a miracle. The space heaters Jim was using to heat the hearth and chimney were working better than Merle would have imagined. The mortar and stones were going up beautifully. He stood back to look at the fireplace in pride. It would be done by tomorrow. A day early, even. Jim had a way with setting the stones that made the most unique designs Merle had ever seen. It was truly a gift, though Jim didn’t agree, and Merle loved to stand back and look at Jim’s work. Jim had actually set the stones on Merle’s fireplace at home, too.