“You’d better come on in,” Joanna announced to them. “Let’s get this over with.”
Kristin entered Joanna’s private office first, followed by Terry and the dog. The two people sat on the captain’s chairs across from Joanna’s desk. As soon as Terry was seated, Spike circled three times and then settled in comfortably at his handler’s feet. For a time, no one spoke.
“Well,” Joanna said at last. “Would anyone care to explain exactly what went on around here yesterday afternoon and why you both seem to have gone AWOL at the same time?”
“I will,” Terry said.
“No, let me,” Kristin interrupted. “It was my fault. I’m the one who took off from work without really being sick. And I’m the one who told Terry that I had to see him no matter what-that we had to talk.”
“Don’t listen to her, Sheriff Brady,” Terry said. “It isn’t either her fault. I’m a big boy. I knew better than to turn off my pager, but I did it because I didn’t want to be interrupted even though I had a feeling Spike and I might be needed again yesterday. If anyone deserves to be in trouble over this, I’m the one.”
At the sound of his name, Spike raised his head, looked up, and thumped his bushy tail on the floor. When no orders were forthcoming, however, he sighed, put his head back down on his front paws, and closed his eyes once more.
Joanna sighed. “All right then,” she said. “What was it that you needed to discuss that was so all-fired important that you were both willing to risk losing your jobs over it?”
“I was late,” Kristin said in a small voice.
The way she said it, Joanna knew at once she wasn’t talking about being late for work. “A whole week,” Kristin continued after a pause. “And that’s not me. I’m one of those women who’s as regular as clockwork-every twenty-eight days.”
Joanna felt her eyes widen. “You mean to tell me you’re pregnant?” Kristin nodded miserably. “What happened? Weren’t you using birth control?”
Kristin nodded again as two fat tears spilled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “We were,” she replied. “Condoms. But something must have happened to one of them. I couldn’t talk to my mother-she’d have a fit-so I was planning to talk to you about it on Sunday, after the shower, to ask your advice. But then Dick Voland showed up and I lost my nerve. So I talked to a friend instead. She gave me the name of a doctor down in Agua Prieta who would take care of it for me, but…” At that point, Kristin buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
Joanna took a deep breath. It was déjà vu all over with a painful piece of her own life. She remembered all too well when she had been in Kristin’s shoes in a similar situation; when she, after agonizingly considering whether or not to have an abortion, had finally been forced to tell Andy that she, too, was pregnant. She hadn’t wanted to and had delayed for weeks, hoping she was wrong. Part of her reason for not wanting to tell was due to the fact that she and Andy had barely begun dating. She hadn’t wanted him to feel trapped into marrying her, but as soon as he found out, he had insisted. He and Joanna had run off to Lordsburg, New Mexico, the very next weekend, to tie the knot.
And the knot had worked. Theirs hadn’t been a trouble-free marriage, but it had been a good one. They had been in love and they had stayed that way. Together they had been happy. The only person who had seemed seriously offended by Jenny’s early arrival had been Eleanor Lathrop, who had, as it turned out, her own long-hidden and hypocritical reasons for being opposed to shotgun weddings.
With a jolt, Joanna emerged from an instant replay of her own past with the sudden realization that reliving the misery of her own experience was doing nothing to alleviate Kristin Marsten’s.
“She wasn’t even going to tell me,” Terry Gregovich was saying. “I could tell all last week that something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it was. I thought we’d get a chance to talk about it over the weekend, but then I had to work all day Sunday. Yesterday morning, I called her here at work. I told her I knew something was up, and if she wouldn’t meet me to tell me what it was, that I’d come here to her office and I wouldn’t leave until I knew where I stood.” He paused. “I was afraid there was somebody else and that she wanted to break up with me.
“So I told her I was picking up some burgers at the Arctic Circle and that she should meet me down at Vista Park. It was while we were there that she finally broke down and told me what was up. I asked her if she knew for sure. She said no, she only thought so. That’s when I told her, we can’t go around making decisions in the dark and that we had to have her tested so we’d know what was what. She didn’t want to go to a doctor here in town or in Sierra Vista because she was afraid someone would talk. And she didn’t want to get one of those pregnancy test kits from the drugstore for the same reason. So yesterday afternoon, I turned off my pager and we drove up to Tucson-to Planned Parenthood.”
“And?” Joanna prodded.
Kristin looked up through teary eyes and nodded. “It’s true,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
“So what are you going to do?” Joanna asked.
“It’s not how I wanted it to work out, Sheriff Brady,” Terry answered. “It’s not how either one of us wanted it. But I love Kristin, and she loves me, and both of us want this baby. So if you have to fire one of us, go ahead. You can have my resignation right now. If I go up to Tucson I can probably find another job that will pay as well or better than this one. If I’m going to be a husband and a father in the next little while, you’d better believe I’m going to take those responsibilities seriously.”
Having said that, he reached out for Kristin’s hand and held it tenderly, cradled between both of his.
“So what’s the plan then?” Joanna asked. “Are you going to tell your parents?”
“I suppose,” Kristin said. “I don’t want to. Mother’s going to kill me. And then we’ll get married. I know my mother always wanted me to have a nice, big church wedding. So did I, but I guess we can’t do that now.”
“But we can, Kristin,” Terry objected. “Don’t you see? We can still have just the kind of wedding you want. There’s no law that says you can’t have a nice wedding and wear a long white dress if that’s what you want to do. We don’t have to go running off to some chapel in Vegas or to a Justice of the Peace somewhere. So what if it takes a month or two to put together a wedding? If there are people who stand around after the baby’s born, counting months and pointing fingers, then it’s their problem, not ours.”
Joanna nodded. “Terry’s right, Kristin. You can have as nice a wedding as you want.”
“But how?” Kristin asked tremulously. “Terry and I both work. Weddings take a lot of planning, and I know my mother. She’ll be so mad that she won’t lift a finger.” At that, Kristin once again burst into inconsolable sobs.
“If your mother won’t help us, mine will,” Terry said. “I know we can do it. It’ll work out, hon. I know it will. Don’t cry, please. We’ll be fine.”
Listening to him, he sounded so confident, so sure of himself, that Terry almost had Joanna convinced that it really would be fine.
“Is that what you want, Kristin?” Joanna asked kindly. “To marry Terry and keep the baby?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “but how…”
“Do you attend church regularly?”
“I used to,” Kristin said, sniffling. “My parents go to Cornerstone out in Sierra Vista. I tried it a few times, but I didn’t like it.”
Cornerstone in Sierra Vista was a nondenominational megachurch made up of disaffected evangelicals from many denominations who had coalesced into a separate church of their own. Cornerstone’s fiery pastor had been in the news for first blocking and then physically assaulting an elderly man who, along with his wife, had parked in the church parking lot while attending a weekday luncheon at a nearby senior center. The assault charges were eventually dropped but the incident had left both church and pastor with an unfortunate reputation in the community.