Butterfly Lane (13 page)

Chapter Twenty

J
ohn had just finished tying his shoes when Ben came back in. He stood up, and he and Ben eyed each other uncomfortably for a minute.

“Where you headed?” Ben finally asked.

“Home.”

Ben gave one short nod. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” John stopped at the door. “And thanks for letting me stay here last night and everything. I appreciate it.”

“John.” Ben waited until his brother turned around before he continued. “I know you don’t understand why Zanny’s so upset over what you said. But she is, and maybe the fact that Dad and I both think she has a valid point is something you should consider.”

“I’ll consider it. See you later.”

John wasn’t completely oblivious to the reasons Zanny was angry. He knew he’d gone too far with his complaints. But logic just didn’t come into the picture. John was angry, too, after having a little while to think about it. He was angry at Zanny, but mostly at himself. And the sources for that anger were things he couldn’t really go into with his brother and his father. He wasn’t even ready to admit them to himself. So he kept it superficial, not digging too deeply into his own mind. He was afraid to look too closely.

When he got to the house, Owen’s truck was still in the driveway. John parked beside it and went in. He came to a dead stop in the living room when he encountered two suitcases.

“What’s this?” he asked his father, who came out of the dining room.

Owen’s face was grim. “Those are your bags. Zanny doesn’t want you back in the house right now.”

John was speechless. He felt like an idiot as he looked from his father to the bags and then back, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

“Let’s go out on the porch for a minute.” He let Owen usher him out, and they stood side by side, gazing out at the small front yard.

“You need to do this. Give her some space. Take some space for yourself, too.”

“But, Dad, how can I fix this if I’m not here? How can I talk to her if I’m not here?”

“Son, you could talk right now until you’re blue in the face. She isn’t ready to listen. And you need to respect that.”

John rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the day’s growth of beard. “Where would I go?”

“Come up to the house. You can stay in my studio. Or you could get a hotel room for a few days.”

“You think Mom will let me stay at the house? At your studio? From what you’ve said, she’s pretty angry.”

Owen eyed him shrewdly. “As long as you stay out of her way, you’ll be fine. I think.”

“All right. Let me tell Zanny I’m going.” When his father stopped him, John threw his hands in the air. “Seriously? I can’t even see her?”

“Not today.”

“Fine. Will you hand me my bags?”

Owen stepped inside and got the bags. “She was kind enough to pack everything you’ll need for a week. She’s getting your suits together for work. Wait here, and I’ll go see if they’re ready.” With a stern look, he went back in the house.

Almost frustrated more than he could stand, John picked up the bags and took them to his car. He met Owen halfway down the walk for the hanging bag.

“Key to the studio’s hanging in the kitchen, like usual. Amelia has the boys, and they’ll be glad to see you. Try to not say anything to upset them, okay?”

John nodded. “Tell Zanny…hell. I don’t know. Tell her to call me, I guess.”

“I will. We’ll be home soon.”

As he drove through Lothair and Christopher to get to the main highway that wound around the mountains and toward his parents’ home, John was in shock. He hadn’t really been surprised that Zanny had kicked him out the night before. But she’d packed him enough for a week. That, he had not been expecting. That gave him pause.

“Maybe a break is what we need. Maybe she’ll miss me, and things will get better once she’s over her mad.”

He told himself that. Over and over again, he told himself that. He just wished he believed it.

Chapter Twenty-One

“I
s he gone?” Zanny poked her head around the corner, when Owen came back in.

“He is. He’s going to stay at the studio for a few days. How are you feeling?” Owen’s eyes were kind, and if she’d had any tears left, Zanny would have cried.

“I’m okay. Thank you both for coming down here and for…well. For being you.” She hugged Sarah close. “Are you sure it’s okay if the boys stay with you?”

“Absolutely. You need time to think, and having two little munchkins underfoot isn’t conducive to the kind of introspection you need,” Sarah assured her. “I’ll drop them off on my way to work Monday.”

“We’ll get out of your hair. But if you need us, you call, okay?” Owen made her promise.

“I will. Thank you again.” Zanny walked them to the door, hugging both of them again before they left. She watched them pull away, then went inside and locked the door behind her. For a couple of minutes, she considered all the things she needed to do—finish the laundry for the week, clean the upstairs bathroom, and go grocery shopping. But right then, it was just beyond her. She hadn’t slept the previous night, and that lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her.

She made sure the doors were all locked, then went to the bedroom. As tired as she was, she still couldn’t get in the bed. She stood beside the bed she’d shared with John for five years. She hadn’t even been able to come in the room last night and face it. The idea that John might have been involved with someone else had been too much to bear. She’d curled up on the couch, instead.

Except for when he was finishing school in Richmond and the nights she’d been in the hospital having the boys, they’d spent every night of their marriage together—until the night before. And Zanny didn’t know if they would ever spend another night together again. That idea was unbearably sad.

She loved sleeping with John—not just the lovemaking, but the actual act of sleeping with him and sharing that intimate space. She knew that if she needed strong arms around her in the middle of the night or got cold, she could curl into him and be welcomed. She liked feeling his body beside hers, hearing his breathing, and waking up to see him sprawled on his stomach, his jaw shadowed with the dark beard that he had to keep closely shaven.

She swallowed against the memories that threatened to rise up and overtake her. She knew that the best thing for their marriage at that point was space and time. Keeping that at the forefront of her mind was going to be hard. But she knew she had to do it.

Stripping down, she climbed under the sheets and pulled the covers up to her chin. All she wanted was the oblivion sleep promised. Everything else would take care of itself in time. Whether or not it worked out the way she wanted, the wheels had been set in motion, and how the story ended was out of her control.

John made it as far as the living room of the farmhouse, where he found Amelia and his sons. He kicked his shoes off and settled in on the rug to play with the boys, who climbed all over him with glee. Amelia was on the couch doing homework, and though he could tell she was curious, she didn’t say anything other than to inquire as to whether Zanny was okay.

When his sister sighed for the fourth time in ten minutes, John peeked over the top of her notebook to see what she was doing.

“It’s algebra,” she volunteered. “It makes no sense. And they put me in the advanced class because I’m supposed to be smart. I think they should have put me in the remedial class, instead.”

“Let me see.”

She handed him the notebook, where five lengthy equations were written out. They looked simple enough to John. “What is it you don’t understand about this?”

“All of it.”

“Explain what it is your teacher wants, then.”

She did, and they were in the middle of a discussion about what Amelia understood and didn’t understand when Owen and Sarah came in.

“Hey, kids. What’s shaking?” Owen asked.

“John’s helping me with algebra.”

Eli climbed onto the couch and held up his arms for Sarah, who stood behind it and hugged him. “Have you had lunch?” she asked Amelia.

“Not yet. I wanted to wait and see if you all got back first.”

“Then why don’t you change clothes, and you and I will head out for a little while?”

“Sure. Will you be here later?” Amelia asked John as she put her textbooks back in her bag.

He handed her the notebook. “I’ll be staying for a few days.”

She blinked at him rapidly, then gave a small smile. “Okay. Then maybe you could help me figure this out later.”

“I’ll be glad to.”

He stood as she bounded out of the room and upstairs with a loud clatter. John noticed that his mother had yet to look at him directly.

“Mom, I—”

Sarah held up her hand. “Don’t talk to me. Not yet.” With Eli in her arms, she turned and left. “Noah, come with me. Let’s get you boys some food.”

“Guess she needs some space, too, huh?” John asked Owen.

“I think that’s a safe bet.”

John had the feeling the fallout was only just beginning. “Well, if I had to screw up, I suppose now is as good a time as any. At least Emma isn’t here to rake me over the coals, too.”

To his surprise, his father laughed, though the sound was somewhat sad. “Oh, John. That probably is just about the only silver lining in this whole mess. If she was here, she really would kick your ass.”

Though Ben had returned home the fall before, Emma was still in Georgia, working as an assistant photographer for a prominent photography studio.

“You know what, though? If she was here, she’d be angry with me, yes. But she’d also be here for Zanny.” John scrubbed his hands over his face. When he’d walked in and seen the boys, the implications of what he’d done and what he’d said had started to hit him. “Tell me she’ll be okay, Dad. Tell me I can fix this?”

Owen slid his arm around John’s shoulders and hugged him, but he didn’t say anything. That was very discouraging. John supposed his father couldn’t really make that kind of pronouncement, but it would have been nice to hear the platitudes.

Chapter Twenty-Two

B
y the time Wednesday evening came around, word had spread through the family about the separation. Zanny had heard from all John’s siblings at least once, including Rachel, who was in school in Lexington.

Furious at John, Emma had called her from Georgia. “If you want me to, I’ll be on the next plane home. I’ll hold him down, and you can beat him to death.” Though the words were typical Emma and made Zanny laugh, the edge to Emma’s voice worried her.

“Are you okay? You sound kind of funny.”

“I’m…working on something. Someone. And it isn’t working the way I’d hoped. That’s all. So I may come home and move in with you. Then we could really make John pay. But I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. When are you going to talk to him?”

“Tonight. Your folks are going to pick the boys up and give us some time. I have to tell him about the baby.”

Emma was quiet for a minute, long enough that Zanny wondered they’d lost their connection. “I’m sorry all this is happening, Zan. As much as I bluster, I’m really sorry you’re having to go through this mess. My brother’s an idiot, but he loves you.”

Zanny had come to that conclusion herself. “I know he does. But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore, Em. I don’t know if it ever was, really. And that’s something I guess…something I’ll have to figure out before we can do anything else. I hope he understands that.”

Owen came by just after four for the boys. “We’ll spend some time in the library and then get some supper. We’ll call before we come back, make sure it’s okay.”

“I appreciate this, Owen.”

“Don’t mention it. How have they been sleeping?”

“Okay. It’s been an adjustment.”

The boys had not reacted well to John’s absence. Eli had been a little anxious, but Noah had been affected the most. He’d turned clingy and a little sullen and was clearly confused as to why his father wasn’t there. Zanny had tried to explain that Daddy was spending a little time with Grandma and Grandpa, but Noah wasn’t buying it. Though he was only four, he was very sensitive to her emotions and to John’s. He always had been. If the separation lasted much longer, they were going to have to work hard to make sure Noah felt as secure as possible.

“Well, hopefully, my boneheaded son will come to his senses. If it’s any consolation, he’s been moping.”

“We will see.”

John got there a little before six. “Sorry I’m late. I was in a meeting with Dave.”

Zanny hated that she was inspecting him for signs of lipstick. “It’s okay. Come on in and sit down.”

She tucked herself into a corner of the couch, with her back against the arm. John took the opposite end, and for a few minutes, they just looked at each other. He did look tired, and she felt a small pang of guilt.

“How are you?”

She gave a half-hearted shrug and looked out the window behind the couch. “I’m coping. You?”

“Marking time. I don’t like being apart from you, Zanny.”

An awkward silence fell. She managed to curb her instinctive rejoinder that he’d been the one who caused them to be apart, but just barely. She didn’t speak again until she had the impulse firmly under control. “There’s something I should tell you. I’m pregnant.”

John looked away from her, and she could see him blinking rapidly. “I figured as much.” He grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. “How far along?”

“About eight weeks. I didn’t suspect until a couple of weeks ago. I had a light period, you know, and I’ve never done that before. How’d you know?”

His mouth moved into a tiny smile. “I know you. Things just fit.”

“I know we didn’t plan this.”

He surprised her by chuckling. “Zanny, we never plan this. We seem to be good at not planning this.”

That startled a laugh—and a few tears—out of her. Without speaking, he handed her the box of tissues. “Thanks. We do keep finding ourselves pregnant, don’t we?”

“Think this one’s a girl?”

“I don’t know. I’m not as sick. That’s part of why I didn’t suspect sooner. As a matter of fact, if they hadn’t done a blood test, I would have a hard time believing I’m actually pregnant.” A deep sadness settled in her chest. “John, what are we going to do?”

He held out his hands, and she leaned forward and took them. “I don’t know. But something I need you to know, to believe—I am not now, nor have I ever been, cheating on you.”

She tilted her head and studied him. After a bit, she decided it was time to make a decision about that. “I believe you. But we’re in trouble. Do you believe that?”

John’s face grew guarded. “I believe
you
believe that,” he hedged. “And I can understand why you think that. But I think we just need to work on a few things.”

Zanny gently pulled her hands from his. “We do need to work on a few things. But I don’t think they’re small. I think they’re pretty big. First and foremost, you’re not happy. Until we address that, we’re kind of stuck.”

She could tell she’d struck a nerve by the way he flinched, his head snapping back as though he’d been slapped. He didn’t speak for a few seconds, as he caught his breath. “How do you propose we do that?”

Zanny wrapped her arms around her knees. “By talking about whatever it is that’s been bothering you for the last few months. I believe you when you say you aren’t cheating on me, but…” She shrugged, feeling helpless. “Cheating isn’t the only way a marriage can end.”

John nodded. “I know.” That was all. He didn’t elaborate or offer to explain what was bothering him.

Zanny felt a flare of annoyance. “So do you want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

He picked at a spot on the back of the couch. “Actually, I need to excuse myself. Is it okay if I use our bathroom?”

“Um, sure. It’s your house.”

He left her sitting on the couch, staring after him in consternation. Zanny didn’t know what to think. They’d always told each other everything, or at least she’d thought they did. That openness was part of the depth of their relationship. They’d always been able to talk openly and freely, without fear of condemnation.

Whatever John was holding back had to be pretty big, and that made her perhaps more nervous than anything had thus far.