If It Ain't Broke Read online

  Kelly sighed, breaking the silence. "Chris, this is supposed to be a happy day. Let's not spoil it with our past issues."

  Chris raised his eyebrows. "I'm not doing anything," he sneered, “and our past issues, are very much present."

  He looked down at Mark, his eyes softening perceptibly.

  "We had a conversation almost three years ago, Chris," Theo said authoritatively. "You promised to stay away from my family."

  Chris nodded. "I know, and I have. But I have been thinking about it and this whole staying away from you business is making me unhappy. I have realized that it's not as easy to dismiss your own flesh and blood from your mind as casually as one would hope. I think about him every single day."

  "But Chris," Kelly said a sob in her voice, "it has been three years. Why haven't you moved on?"

  "Because I can't." Chris looked at Mark again and shrugged. "Any man worth his mettle cannot just move on from his own child."

  He spun around and left the three of them in the mini orchard.

  *****

  He hardly remembered anything much about the reception. There were many toasts and much laughter but Chris couldn't bring himself to crack a smile.

  Pinky had even volunteered to drive them home and he had dropped the keys in her palm without protest. There was a sadness weighing upon him that was like a physical presence.

  Pinky must have felt its presence too because she hardly said a word when they reached the guesthouse. Her eyes were wet as if she had been crying and she was giving him one of her cautious looks.

  "You aren't planning to do anything...you know...foolish?" she asked him fearfully.

  "Like what," Chris shrugged, "break into their house in the dead of night and steal my son?"

  "Well, I was thinking, throwing yourself off the balcony in broken despair."

  Chris rolled his eyes. "You like high drama don't you?"

  He flung himself down in the lounge settee and said mockingly in a television announcer's voice. "The tragic Chris, heart broken and mourning over the mess he has made of his life, gives it up in a blaze of passionate heart break, throwing himself over the balcony of his rented Guest House, his last words were, ‘I am undone’."

  Pinky giggled nervously. "You just look so sad, like all the stuffing is gone out of you."

  "It has," Chris said closing his eyes and massaging his temples. "I shouldn't have come to this wedding. I should have stayed away. I knew I'd see them, but I wanted them to see me. I wanted the two of them to remember that while they are playing happy family with my child, I am still hurting…still real…still the father. Not some phantom break in their marriage that they can paper over and hope for the best. Did you hear how Mark called Theo his Daddy?"

  Pinky nodded and then cleared her throat after realizing that he wasn't looking at her. "Yes...er...Chris. How did this whole thing between you and Kelly happen? She's a pastor's wife. I was so shocked when I saw that little boy."

  "I met her before Theo did." Chris laughed bitterly. "I loved her first. She was mine until she met Theo. Then one day she called me over the phone—it was a Wednesday afternoon—she said in that husky voice of hers, ‘Chris, I am marrying Theo’. I almost collapsed, but I survived. I reasoned that time had a way of healing things and that I could move on,” he cracked an eye open, "but I never did.”

  “In all the years while she was married, I never healed. I had an affair with her. Yes, I knew it was wrong, but I reasoned that it was my only chance with her. I ignored my conscience; I ignored everything, really. Then she got pregnant. At first I thought she was pregnant for her husband and that tore me up inside. You know...sour grapes...but one look at the baby and I knew that he was mine."

  He sighed and closed his eyes again. "I thought she'd leave him and we'd be happy together, but apparently he loves her enough to forgive her trespasses. Can you imagine?"

  Pinky sighed. "That's quite unusual. Men are the ones who are on the receiving end of forgiveness more often than not."

  Chris loosened his bow tie. "I once wrote a poem to Kelly when we were dating and I was under the illusion that we would be together forever. It said, ‘If hearts had locks you'd be my key. If I were your slave I'd never be free. I'd dot every I, I'd cross every T. If that was the only way you could be mine, Kelly’."

  "Awww," Pinky said enviously. "It sounds corny but sweet. I wish someone would write me a poem like that. You know what I think about all of this?"

  Chris opened his eyes fully and looked at her. "No, what?"

  "I think she is the one that got away. People usually are fixated on what they have lost. Build dreams around it; make it more than it is. Maybe if the two of you had married, you would have been miserable together."

  Chris shook his head and got up. "We leave tomorrow at nine. Be ready."

  "That's it?" Pinky asked to his retreating back.

  "I've heard it all before," Chris mumbled. "I don't want to hear it again."

  "You just love being unhappy and miserable," Pinky shouted after him.

  He slammed his door in response.

  Chapter Four

  When Pinky returned to Jamaica two days later she found herself almost as depressed as Chris and he was zombie-like. She felt a heaviness in the air that did not bode well for her doing well on her final exam in Computational Chemistry. For her, the subject was the most challenging she had to do the entire semester. She had been struggling with the course work and now she was finding it difficult to remember the formulas and calculations that she learned in Physical Chemistry.

  She found herself staring at her computer and wondering what molecules and solids were. Basic computations were tying her in knots. Even though she was trying as hard as she could to concentrate, it was useless.

  She had taken her laptop with her into the garden where she thought she could get away from her thoughts about Chris and his mood and his love for Kelly. But in the cool of the day, with only the rustling leaves for company, peace eluded her.

  She thought that she could get back to her studies but even here she felt troubled. She had learned far more about Chris and his obsession with Kelly than she wanted to but she still felt herself reeling over the whole thing.

  It was one thing to come around to the fact that the man that you loved or had a thing for loved another woman obsessively. It was quite another thing to suddenly realize that he had an affair with her and had a baby.

  Why is it that she hadn't even heard a whisper about this? Even that time when she had been ranting and raving about Chris? Phoebe had not once let it slip that he was the father of Kelly's youngest child, though she must have known about it; she had been staying at Kelly's house.

  It must be the best-kept secret in Three Rivers because she had not once heard about it. She sighed heavily and got up from the wrought iron table, which was conveniently located under a sprawling cashew tree.

  Pinky paced between the back wall—which had a view of the bay—and the table where her computer was waiting with her chemistry work; its metallic screen gazing at her accusingly.

  She always thought that she had a chance with Chris, but now she realized that she had been wasting her time trying to be his friend and waiting patiently for him to notice that he was a man and that she was an attractive woman. The whole situation was deeper than she had bargained for.

  Even this job as housekeeper was really to get closer to Chris. She remembered the first time she saw him, she had been job-hunting for a part-time position that could supplement her scholarship. She had heard, from a friend at Great Pond church that Meghan who worked at Villa Rose wanted someone to fill in for her for about six weeks. She had eagerly gone to the Villa and waited for an impromptu interview with Chris Donahue that Meghan had arranged.

  Earlier when she had sat apprehensively in the reception area, a handsome guy with pale green eyes had strutted pass her and she had stared at him her mouth hanging open. He had glanced at her contemplatively and then briskly went
about his business, strutting with the confident air of someone important or in charge. That one look had had her feeling warm and tingly all over. When she actually got the chance to go into the conference room for the interview, she realized that he was her interviewer.

  He had been brisk and business-like and somewhat cold toward her. She had thought that she would not have gotten the job. He had asked her questions and then sat back in his chair just listening to her tie up herself with some of the hardest ones.

  He hadn't even cracked a smile when she got up to leave. He had briskly shaken her hand and then escorted her outside.

  When he called her the next day and asked her to come in, she had been extremely surprised and equally delighted to have the chance to work with him. Not that working with him had done her any good, he had kept his distance from her. When he worked from his office at Villa Rose he usually gave her brusque hellos and even terser goodbyes.

  When Meghan came back from sick leave, he had asked her if she wanted to work as his housekeeper.

  "My mother says I need one," Chris had shrugged. "A cleaning firm comes in every Friday, I have a cook, Maud. She was a gourmet chef in another century. I guess you can spread the bed, make sure my casual clothes are clean, pick-up my dry cleaning and any other odd jobs around the place. I am hardly there; it's not much work and you can finish your final year in university without much fuss."

  Pinky had been shocked. He had up to that point barely paid her any attention, except for a faint sneer in his eyes when he spoke to her. She found it quite astounding that he remembered that she was in her final year at university. She had tried to look nonchalant when he offered her the position but she had been extremely happy.

  She'd be close to him every day. There was no way he could be exposed to her and not like her back. She would make it her mission, and what a task she had set for herself. She had bulldozed her way into his life. She purposely ignored his insults and acted as outrageously as she could to get his attention.

  She had always been aware that there was a Kelly who held his heart in her hands. She had gotten that name from the gardener who had worked with Kelly when she designed the hotel.

  He had told her bits and pieces of information about Kelly and how she was the woman who had so tied up Chris' emotions that he was very unavailable to all newcomers.

  It was a few weeks after working with Chris that she had heard that Kelly was unavailable because she was married. And it was just three days ago that she found out that Kelly had been much more than unrequited love. She was the mother of his child.

  Pinky plucked at her tube top in despair. What was she to do in a situation like this? She had been working for Chris for about a year now. Seven months ago she had told him to get over Kelly and quietly hoped that he would choose her instead. She had left the thought unspoken, but she was sure that Chris got the message.

  He had chosen to fire her instead. He had been furious at what he described as 'her temerity to be forthright about his personal life.

  Three days later, after he had calmed down, he had asked her to come back with a terse apology. She still wanted to be close to him so she had accepted. She had vowed never to speak of Kelly again and for a while she had imagined, fondly, that Chris was beginning to like her back.

  He certainly acted jealous when she told him about the guys she knew at school but now she realized that she had been building castles in the sky.

  Chris was nowhere near ready to get over his obsession with Kelly; this weekend was a cruel reminder of that. As a matter of fact his utter despair since he got back was telling. It had not been easy to hear that Chris had written poems to Kelly, that they had an affair, or that she had his son.

  She got up to pace again—eaten up with jealousy. The green-eyed monster was riding her back; clouding her brain waves; making it impossible for her to concentrate.

  Just one semester to go and then she would get that chemistry degree—an admirable feat for a girl who was born in deep rural Hanover with parents who were humble folks with barely a formal education.

  Her father spent his time in the fields and her mother sold the produce from the family farm. She would be the only one in her family to get a college degree; her brother, Charles, had recently shown some interest in school so she might have company in a few years.

  She didn't want to spoil this opportunity that she had. She had come too far to flunk a course and losing her scholarship all because Chris Donahue was tying her up in knots.

  "Why are you pacing and carrying on like that?" Maud asked. She was carrying a tray with iced tea and what looked like pastries.

  "Just thinking," Pinky said dejectedly.

  Maud set down the tray on the table, glanced in her opened textbook and shook her head. "That looks like gibberish."

  Pinky gave her a half-smile.

  "Since you two got back from Cayman, the house has been like a funeral parlor," Maud said sitting down in a chair and helping herself to a pastry. "I had to catch myself this morning from wailing Rock of Ages Cleft For Me. It is Three Rivers Church's favorite funeral song."

  "Do you know anything about Kelly?" Pinky asked her abruptly.

  Maud almost choked on her pastry. "Uh huh."

  Pinky smirked. "Well, we saw her."

  "And the child too?" Maud asked wiping her eyes.

  "Yup." Pinky picked up one of the pastries and started chewing dejectedly.

  Maud shook her head sadly. “Chris' mother was livid when she found out that he was not going to fight to keep the child."

  Pinky's eyes lit up. "She was?"

  "Yeah." Maud reached for another pastry, her pudgy fingers curving around it, "But I thought that since you were here, Chris was moving on. I haven't seen him laugh so much or have more life."

  Pinky shrugged. "He doesn't like me."

  Maud looked at her contemplatively. "It's plain to whoever who wants to see that that isn't true."

  Pinky sighed bitterly. "I highly doubt that. To him I am just a young puppy; he doesn't treat me much different than he does the cat. That's it. I am just like a pet."

  "Anyways," Maud said getting up, "Miss Camille and her husband are coming next week. She usually stays for two months; her husband stays for three weeks. This place will be quite busy for the next few weeks, so you are going to have your work cut out for you. I hope you can juggle that and your exams."

  Pinky shrugged. "I will be done with all my exams by December 22. My last semester is mostly lab work."

  "Okay." Maud shrugged.

  "What is Camille like?" Pinky asked interestedly. She knew that Chris had three sisters who lived in Canada and that Camille was the closest to him.

  "She's nice," Maud said, "very protective of her brother. They all are. Chris is the baby among bossy women but usually he holds his own. It is quite fun to see when the whole Donahue brood get together. I baby-sat all of them at some point or the other," Maud said lovingly. "Anyway, get back to your work, let me not keep you."

  She waddled away, her square behind retreating into the house. Pinky watched her silently and glanced at her laptop and textbook and closed both of them angrily.

  She would never be a part of the Donahue clan if Chris didn’t get his head out of Kelly-heaven. Somehow the thought made her extremely sad, even more morose than she was before.

  *****

  Chris left the office early. It was Thursday and he expected his usual package from Cayman. He was already in a dark mood. He hadn't slept much since the confrontation with Theo and Kelly in Cayman. He had just been going through the motions. He could remember Kelly's incredulous question—"Why haven't you moved on?"

  The nerve of her.

  When she had chosen Theo over him, it had taken seven whole years for him to look at her without a strange pain tightening his chest.

  In recent years, he had actually slept with her, explored her body and she had borne his child, and she expected that three measly years would heal his pain.
>
  Since Cayman he was feeling vengeful. How dare the two of them look at him with pity and scorn? Did they think that he was pathetic?

  By the time he reached the house he was in a huff and slammed the front door. His mood was darker than ever. When he found Pinky Black in his study looking through his Thursday mail, a red mist surrounded his cornea.

  "What are you doing?" he bellowed. She jumped, a frightened look in her eyes.

  "I was expecting a letter." She had the manila envelop with his Cayman correspondence in her hands and a guilty expression on her face.

  He advanced toward her and leaned his briefcase on his desk.

  "Do not come into my study when I am not in here! Do not sort through my mail." He spoke slowly and deliberately and then snatched the mail from her nerveless fingers.

  "Do you...do you spy on them?" Pinky whispered hoarsely.

  "Get out of my study!” Chris said fiercely.

  “No!" Pinky said defiantly. "You have been walking around here like a wounded animal all week. You are impossible to live with. So you had an affair with Kelly. So what? Why are you still so morose and dark and bitter? You are acting like she is the only woman in the world!"

  Chris inhaled shakily and then sat down in his chair abruptly. "You have passed your place, Petrina."

  He looked at her with hot fury emanating from his eyes.

  Pinky recoiled from the look but held her ground. "You need to hear the truth. You are acting as if she is the last woman on this planet. So what if she has a child for you? She does not want you in his life. She is happy with her husband. Couldn't you see that? Why can't you just let it go?" Pinky shouted. "Let it go and start living your life!"

  Chris was so angry he could feel his heart hammering in his chest and a feeling of light-headedness taking him over.

  He felt like lunging across the desk and ringing her neck—the nerve of this woman, talking to him like that. He looked at her trembling pink lips and out of the blue the random thought came to him that her lips were probably the reason she had the nickname Pinky. She was a pint-sized bundle of trouble, who needed to mind her own business.