Butterfly Lane (22 page)

Noah hid his face in John’s shirt, and John felt the warm wetness of tears soak through his T-shirt. He tightened his arms, shooting a glare at Zanny. She was murmuring quietly to Eli, though, and didn’t see it.

“Listen, how about this? I’ll have Mommy call every night before bedtime so I can wish you goodnight. And then next Friday, I’ll come get you and your brother, and we’ll have another campout the way we did this weekend. Maybe if it’s warm enough, we can go fishing in the creek. Catch us some crawdads.”

Noah heaved a sigh that sounded too old and big to have come from his little body, but he nodded. “Okay.”

John didn’t get up to leave immediately, but sat there, holding his son, for as long as he could stand it. Eli had fallen asleep, and Zanny stood and put him in his crib. John followed suit with Noah, who was on the verge of sleep.

Standing over his sons, watching them sleep, John felt the anger flare. He didn’t want to leave any more than Noah wanted him to go, but he didn’t have a choice.

Zanny didn’t say anything, just followed him downstairs quietly. He picked up his bags and opened the door, but he turned back and stepped up to her, with only an inch or two separating their bodies. He saw her swallow and fight to not step back. For the first time since they’d met, he was glad she was afraid of him.

“I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing and that the outcome is worth it. Because if this is some kind of game, some kind of power play, and you’re putting my sons through this to try and prove a point? Lady, that’s something I’ll never forgive you for.”

Zanny stood in the living room, as still as a statue. Her arms wrapped around herself were the only things holding her up after John left. She was stunned by the depth of his anger.

She hadn’t expected him to be happy about the separation. She’d expected he would bluster, but would secretly be relieved to have the space. She would have the time she needed to figure out if she was doing the right thing by continuing with the marriage. If she could truly be happy with her life as it was then maybe when they reconciled, things would be a little better, a little warmer than they had been, and a little more passionate.

In the face of his fury, though, she was going to have to reconcile what she thought she knew with what apparently was the truth, because it didn’t appear they were remotely close to the same. If that was the case, that changed everything, and Zanny feared that her gamble might very well have cost her the marriage.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

D
esperately needing someone to talk to, Zanny invited Emma down for supper on Monday evening. “You can even spend the night in the guest room.”

After the boys were asleep, the women got comfortable on the couch. Emma was rubbing her belly, and when she saw Zanny watching her, she held out her hand.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Zanny’s hand rested on her own pelvis, and she took a deep breath against the grief. Most of the time, she was able to shove the thoughts of the child she’d lost to the back of her mind, at least until she was alone in the middle of the night. “I’m happy for you, and I am looking so forward to spoiling this baby when he or she gets here. But I can’t touch your belly.”

“I understand. So what do you need to talk about?”

“I think I screwed up. Big time.” She told Emma about John’s anger and what he’d said. “I didn’t expect him to care so much, if you want the truth.”

Emma was reclining, resting her head against the back of the sofa. She turned to look at Zanny. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. And you promised me the other day that you’d tell me why you think that. Because honestly? I’m not surprised he’s this upset at all. None of us are.”

Confessing the truth was hard. “Before Noah was born, things were different. Intimate things. Honest to God, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, Em.” She hid her hot face in her hands with a groan. “My ending up pregnant wasn’t a question of if. It was a question of when.”

“And after Noah was born?”

Zanny shrugged. “It wasn’t the same. First of all, we had a baby to take care of. And you wouldn’t think that someone who sleeps most of the time would interfere with your sex life, but they do. Because Noah hardly ever wanted to sleep when we did for the first six or eight months. And things just change after childbirth.” She bit her lip. “Don’t get me wrong. I love being with John. But there’s no passion. Very, very rarely, anyhow. Not on his part. Not like there was.”

Emma’s lips were quirked up at the corners, and Zanny could tell she was struggling to not laugh.

“Go ahead. Let it out.”

Emma did, and the laughter escaped in a snickering, snorting bluster. “Well, the situation isn’t funny, but the first thing occurs to me is that you do realize you married an accountant? He gets excited about columns of numbers, Zan. Maybe he is being passionate.”

Zanny grabbed a throw pillow and whacked her with it. “I will have you know that while he may be an accountant, John is not boring. And he is very passionate. Like melt the shoes off your feet, okay? Well, he was. Until after Noah was born. And then…he just wasn’t anymore.”

Emma’s laughter died down. “Did you ask him about it? Ask him what’s wrong, what changed?”

“No. I don’t have the courage to. Honestly, I just figured that the newness wore off. Once the novelty was gone, once he saw me as a mother, he couldn’t see me as a woman anymore. I mean, I breastfed both boys. These weren’t just for him to play with, and I assumed he lost interest.” She gestured to her chest. “I was afraid if I asked, he’d tell me he was bored. So I didn’t ask.”

“Did you try to seduce him?”

Zanny cringed as she remembered the two times she had. “I’m not a sex goddess. When I tried to be, we ended up laughing. I mean, things got warm, but there was laughter. And I didn’t tell John that I was hurt by that. I couldn’t. Em, he’s the only man I’ve ever been with. I know how to have sex, but I’m not brave enough to do more than just go along for the ride, so to speak.”

Emma’s face was red, and she picked up a magazine to fan herself. “This is a little awkward because he’s my brother. But do you think John was a virgin, too, and that’s part of the problem?”

“No. He had been with a few people before me. I don’t know how many. That’s something else I was never brave enough to ask. I know that he wasn’t a virgin.” She stood and headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to need alcohol if we’re going to continue this conversation. Want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

Once she was back on the couch, wineglass in hand, Zanny sighed. “But that, in a nutshell, is why I didn’t think John would be angry. Frankly, I didn’t think he had that kind of strong emotion in him as far as I go. And I’m still not sure it’s about me and us. It could be because of the boys.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think. I think we need to sex you up some.”

Zanny just about choked on her wine and barely managed to keep from spewing a mouthful of liquid across Emma and the couch. “We need to what?” she croaked.

“Sex you up. Turn you into a sex goddess.”

Zanny shook her head. “Oh, no. Emma, I’m no good at that. I told you. I tried to seduce John twice, and it was a disaster.”

Emma smiled, and its touch of wickedness sent up huge red warning flags. That smile always, always precluded trouble. It had ever since they were small children.

“As you may have noticed, I’m not a virgin. And as much as it probably would horrify my parents and maybe you, too”—she glanced at Zanny—“I’ve been with more than one man. Two, to be exact. I don’t want you to think I’m promiscuous, after all.”

Zanny leveled a look at her. “I know I’m horribly old-fashioned. I don’t expect you to be, as well.”

“I know. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. Both men I’ve been with, I was serious about. It just didn’t work out the way I’d hoped with either of them. Maybe next time, I’ll abstain and see if I get better results,” she mused. “Anyhow, I’ve learned some things. And they’re incredibly simple things. I’m willing to pass that knowledge on to you.”

“Okay.” Zanny didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. “Like what?”

Emma looked her over from head to toe. “Oh, all kinds of things. But let me ask you this first. Do you want to stay married to John?” Her tone was serious, and Zanny answered in kind.

“Yes. But I want to come back to him, have him come back to me, on equal footing. Or as near as we can get. I want to know he’s choosing me for me, not for duty. And I do need to prove to myself that I’m able to stand on my own first.”

“See, I understand that. But I think there’s another component to it that you’re missing.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s fine to be able to stand on your own, admirable, but I think you also need to prove to yourself that it’s okay if you don’t have to. That it’s okay to choose to not be alone. To choose to let someone support you, emotionally and otherwise. Because I don’t think you’ve ever done that with John.”

Zanny was struck by the simple complexity of the idea. Being strong didn’t mean being apart and independent. It could mean making a choice to lean on someone else.

“Emma, you’ve turned into a philosopher on me.”

“I thought that might resonate.”

“It does. Oh, it really, really does.” Finishing her wine, she set aside the glass. “So you think you can turn me into a sex goddess? Really?”

“Of course I can. At least enough of one that when you and John finally do come back together, you can knock his socks off.”

She explained what she meant. Most of it was attitude, a little of it was reading and education, but a lot of it involved shopping—lots and lots of shopping. Zanny was perplexed at how simple Emma made it sound, but she agreed to try. “If you think it will work, then we’ll do it.”

Emma clapped her hands. “Good! Then weekend after next, you and I will head to Lexington and spend the weekend there. You’ll need a new wardrobe for the job, anyhow, and I need some maternity clothes. Two birds, and all that. Well, three.”

Zanny’s first instinct was to tell Emma that she couldn’t spend that kind of money on herself, but she didn’t. She did need a more professional, less housewifey wardrobe.

“Okay, Trouble. I’ll put myself into your hands. Just try to keep me recognizable to myself?”

Emma reached over and patted Zanny’s knee. “You will be. But you’ll also be the grown-up version of Zanny. Remember when we did that makeover at Christmas, and John came home and saw you? Well, that’s our goal again. Only more subtle this time. He’ll know something’s different, but he won’t know what until you decide to show him. It will drive him nuts trying to figure it out.”

“I think I’m already driving him nuts. It seems cruel to do it even more.”

“Different kind of nuts. Trust me, he’ll appreciate this.”

Deciding that she hadn’t come this far to back down after all that, Zanny held out her hand, and they sealed the deal with a handshake. “I’m in.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

J
ohn got his first look at Emma’s new house midway through the next week. She’d closed on it the previous Friday but had waited until the former owners had moved their belongings to take everyone on a tour. When she called him at lunch to suggest meeting, he’d been hesitant, especially after hearing Zanny might be there.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He’d calmed down some, but he was still harboring more anger than he was comfortable with.

“Yes. Because Easter is coming up in a couple of weeks, and you’re going to have to be civil to each other when she comes to dinner. Better to start practicing now than to ruin the holiday.”

“Fine. What time?”

“Whenever you get off work.” She rattled off the address, as if John could have forgotten it as many times as he’d heard about the house, then hung up.

So instead of heading back to the farm, he drove to Emma’s new house. His heart sped up when he saw Zanny’s car, in addition to Emma’s, his father’s truck, Ben’s truck, and a sheriff’s department cruiser. The driveway was full, and he had to park on the street.

He was on the porch, ready to knock, when he heard Zanny’s laughter floating through an open window. “Suck it up, Johnny,” he muttered to himself as he went in.

A slice of pizza in hand, Amelia saw him first and dashed over to him for a quick hug. “Perfect timing! You can help settle the debate on what color to paint the living room.” She tugged him through a wide arch to the left. “Sit down, and I’ll get you a drink.”

Everyone was sitting on the floor in a circle, and they made room for him next to his cousin Rick.

“Hey, everyone. Rick, been a while. How goes the crime fighting?”

“It goes.”

Emma made an irritated grunt across the circle as she fought to keep paint samples out of Ben’s hand. “John, help! Ben is trying to paint the walls dark green.”

“And she’s trying to paint them pink. Pink. Seriously, if you have a boy, he’ll puke his guts out the first time he sees that color.” Ben shuddered, ducking away with a laugh as Emma slapped his arm.

“Here’s your drink.” Amelia dropped down beside him, pulling a can of soda from a pocket of her overalls.

“Where did you get overalls?”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re all the rage now. All the girls have them. So what do you think, green or pink?”

John shrugged, focusing on his pizza. “I don’t like either color for this room.” The opinion was met with several loud rebuttals, and he ate while the “discussion” took on a life of its own. He studiously tried to ignore Zanny, but his eyes were drawn to her repeatedly. She was quiet, smiling as she watched his family’s antics, but she seemed to be avoiding looking at him just as much as he was avoiding her. He let his gaze rest on her, taking in the paint streaks on her arms and her old clothes. Just when he was ready to look away, she glanced in his direction and caught him staring.

Their eyes locked, and for an instant, John forgot how to breathe. The moment was broken when a piece of crust flew over his head. He ducked, and it skidded across the floor behind him.

“Oops.” Emma grimaced. “Sorry ’bout that.”

John very much doubted that, and he tore off a piece of crust and tossed it back at her. Just like that, the war was on. Leftover pizza crusts were flying left and right, with Owen and Sarah even joining in the melee. Some of the tension from the last few weeks melted, and by the time the frenzy wound down, most of them were breathless from laughing.

“It’s a good thing the boys are still with Mrs. Hendricks. I have no doubt they’d take this ‘lesson’ and run with it,” Zanny said.

“No doubt they would,” Sarah agreed. “Ben, you and your father clean this mess up, please.” With a smile on her face, she wiped a smear of pizza sauce from Owen’s cheek. “Grown men and women indulging in a food fight. I wish I’d had a camera.”

“I’ll help.” Amelia got to her feet. “Em, you and Mom should show John the house.”

“I guess that leaves us to help, too,” Rick teased Zanny, holding out a hand to tug her to her feet.

“Actually, I need to get going and get the boys. It’s getting close to their bedtime.”

“I’m parked behind you,” Ben said. He tossed John his keys. “Move the truck for me?”

“Sure.”

Zanny’s cheeks flushed, and John saw that she knew what Ben was doing. “Emma, I’ll see you tomorrow. Ten o’clock, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“‘Night, everyone.”

A chorus of goodnights followed them out the door. John followed Zanny down the sidewalk to the driveway, feeling as awkward as he had when he’d asked his first girlfriend out for a date.

“You know they’re all watching from the windows, right?” she murmured as he passed her on his way to Ben’s truck. “To see what we do or say?”

“I know.” He stopped at the end of the car and faced her. “How are the boys?”

“They’re okay. If you want to stop by on your way home tonight, I’m sure they’d love to see you. You could maybe tuck them in if you wanted. Since you’re in town, I mean.”

“I’d like that. Are you and Emma still going to Lexington Friday?”

“That’s the plan.”

He nodded. “Then I’ll be over in a little bit.”

After moving the truck out of the way, he waited until she’d left to back in. Several pairs of interested eyes met him when he walked in the door.

“You people need hobbies.”

“We have hobbies. Come on, let me show you my new home.” Emma grabbed his arm and took him on a guided tour, with Amelia trailing behind them. When they reached the upstairs hall, John whistled. Some of the plaster was cracked and in danger of falling.

“You need to get this fixed.”

“I know. And believe it or not, that’s pretty much the only thing wrong with the house, other than it needing some serious elbow grease. There are five bedrooms, one down, four up, all pretty good sized.”

“Tell him what I suggested, Em,” Amelia piped up as they went in the room Emma told him was going to be the nursery.

John smiled at her. “What’s that?”

“Amelia thinks you should move in here with me.”

He laughed. “Seriously? You think the two of us could live in the same house and keep from killing each other?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “We did it for what, sixteen, eighteen years? This would be temporary. And it actually makes sense once you consider everything.”

John was skeptical. “I’m listening.”

“You need a place to stay, and I need someone to work around the house, get things in shape before the baby comes. I’ll hire someone to do the painting, but there are a thousand little things that need done. You know how much trouble you’re having finding an apartment. And you’d be close to Zanny and the boys if they need you.”

As much as he wanted to argue, the reasons for him to stay with Emma were valid. “And what happens if my stay turns out to not be temporary?”

“Then it isn’t. And you’ll be finding something else in that case, anyhow.”

“I’ll consider it.”

As he drove back to the farm after stopping and spending some time with the boys, he figured he’d probably end up moving in with Emma, but he didn’t want to rush into it.