Butterfly Lane (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

S
arah flagged down John on Friday evening as he came in from work. “Come have supper with us?”

“Sure.”

Sitting down with the family and eating was nice. He’d definitely missed the easy time he’d spent with Zanny and the boys. After they ate, John and Owen took care of the cleanup while Sarah and Amelia discussed an upcoming dance. John found himself chuckling at what his sister was saying. Owen nudged him with his shoulder.

“What’s so funny?”

“Amelia. She’s something else.” John kept his voice low. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is. All our kids turned out pretty well.”

“I don’t know. Your eldest is a troublemaker.”

Owen grinned. “Nah, he’s okay. Just a little confused.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t overheard. “I’m worried about Emma, if you want the truth.”

“How come?”

“I’m not sure. Her voice the last time she called. Something’s going on.”

John dried his hands on a dish towel. “Any idea what?”

“No. She’ll come out with it in time, I suppose.”

“She usually does. Maybe Ben can get it out of her.” The two were close, both from being twins and from having spent their college years together in the same town so far away from home.

“I was thinking that. I’m going to talk to him this weekend, see what he can find out.”

“John, if you’re finished, I want to talk to you. It’s about what we discussed the other night,” Sarah said. She came to stand on the other side of the island and propped her chin on her hands.

“You have an idea?”

“Of a sort. I don’t think you’ll like it, however. Let’s go talk.”

John followed her to the sitting room and took the same spot he had the other night. Sarah stood at the window, looking out into the dark.

“I think you’re going to just have to tell her. Maybe a little more eloquently than you explained it to me, but don’t make it too complicated. The more you try to explain things, the more she’s going to think there’s more to it.”

He was a little offended. “You don’t think Zanny’s smart enough to figure out what I mean?”

Sarah sent him a scolding look. “You know better than that. Zanny’s very intelligent. But she’s also emotionally wounded right now. Even if she weren’t, hearing how you feel would be a little hard for her.”

John contemplated the advice. Even though he had been hoping his mother would be able to just give him the magic words to make things right, his gut told him she was on the right track. “So anything in particular you think I should start out with?”

“‘I love you’ is rarely the wrong thing to say. Just don’t follow it with an immediate ‘but,’ or else she’ll think that love is conditional. And I believe that’s the whole problem. The way she was raised, the girl just never believed anyone would love her for her if she wasn’t perfect. Her father and grandmother have a lot to answer for, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m going down in the morning to spend the day with her and the boys. Hopefully, we’ll have time to talk.”

“Hopefully, you will.”

Despite the two small boys climbing into bed with her, full of energy and giggles, Zanny had to drag herself out of bed on Saturday morning. She wasn’t even dressed when John showed up. When he saw that she was still in her nightgown, he frowned. Guilt pierced her, but she ignored it.

“Are you okay?” He touched her forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

“I’m just tired. Come on in.” She headed back to the kitchen and the boys with a yawn. “Have you eaten?”

“I grabbed a bowl of cereal.” When she went to finish getting Noah’s breakfast, John tugged her to a chair. “Here, sit down. I have this.”

Zanny didn’t protest. Instead, she watched as he competently went about taking care of the boys. They’d both perked up when he came in, and she knew if they hadn’t been so hungry, they would have been all over him.

“Do you want something?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m a little nauseated.”

“Iced ginger ale?”

“Mm, that does sound good.”

He grinned. “Coming right up.”

By the time the boys had finished eating, Zanny could barely sit up. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she said around a yawn. “I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you go lay down for a little while? I have these guys. Or they have me. However you want to look at it.” He spread his hands wide and grinned down at his feet.

Zanny had to smile at the image he presented, and her fingers itched for a camera. Eli had attached himself to one leg, and Noah to the other, and both were laughing up at John.

“Daddy!”

“What, Eli?”

“Hi!”

John’s gaze had been on the boys, but when Zanny let out a soft laugh, he looked over at her and winked. “Hi, buddy. I think Mommy needs a nap. You guys want to help tuck her in?”

“Can we read her a story?” Noah asked with his quiet lisp.

“Maybe later. Come on, let’s get her to bed.”

Left with little choice, Zanny only gave a token protest as the boys hurried to her. Noah held her hand as they went to the bedroom, with Eli leading the way at a run.

“He doesn’t walk anywhere, does he?” John murmured from behind her.

“Not much.”

In short order, they had her comfortably ensconced against the pillows. John didn’t come too close, staying at the foot of the bed to supervise.

“I’ll take these guys upstairs, get them dressed, and find something to play with. You just take it easy.”

“They kind of wanted to go to story time at the library this morning. It starts at eleven.” She glanced at the clock. It was almost ten.

“I can do that if you want me to. Let you get some peace and quiet for a little while.”

“I’d appreciate it.” She knew her willingness to give in so quickly worried him, but she was too tired to let it bother her. “Thanks, John.” Closing her eyes, she was asleep almost before he pulled the door closed behind him.

Once he got the boys ready to go, John checked in on Zanny. She didn’t stir, even when he touched her face to check her temperature. She didn’t feel as warm as she had earlier, but he was still concerned.

He mentioned it to his mother when they got to the library.

“Do you think it’s the pregnancy?”

Sarah frowned and watched the boys as they went to the toys and started playing. “I don’t know. It’s probably just a bug. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

He took the boys for burgers and fries after story time, and by the time they got back to the house, Zanny was sitting on the couch in the living room, folding laundry. Although she was still a little pale, she looked much better than she had.

“Thanks for letting me sleep,” she told him with a smile. “These guys look ready for a nap.”

“I’m not. I’m a big boy,” Noah told her, but he leaned against John’s leg and rubbed his eyes with his fist. Eli was already dozing on John’s shoulder.

“Well, why don’t you and I take your brother upstairs and get him settled in? And if you could stay with him, so he doesn’t get scared before he goes to sleep, that would be a big help.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

With a smile for Zanny, they headed upstairs. Though he fought valiantly, Noah was asleep within minutes of lying down with Eli. John sat there for a few minutes, just watching his sons. What he’d told his mother the other night was true. He and Zanny did make adorable babies.

Noah was dark like him, but with Zanny’s hazel eyes. Eli was still a bit of a towhead, with eyes that were blue like his grandmother’s. John wondered, looking at them, what they would be like as adults. He knew that time would come sooner rather than later, and he tried to absorb as much of the moment as he could. With soft kisses placed on each of their heads, he left the room quietly and headed back to Zanny.

“Are they asleep?”

“Out like a light, both of them.”

“I’m not surprised. Thanks for getting them down.”

“I enjoyed it. You look like you feel better.”

She nodded and put the last of the laundry in the basket. “I do. Set this on the steps?”

John took the basket and put it on the landing. Turning back to Zanny, he watched her watch him. “Hi.”

She laughed and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Hi. This is a little awkward, I guess.”

“A little.” John smiled sheepishly and sat beside her. “Can we talk?”

Zanny turned on the couch so that she was facing him, her legs curled underneath her. “Sure.”

Remembering Sarah’s advice, he started by telling Zanny he loved her. “I think you know that, right? Everything we’ve been through the last little while, the way I feel about you has not changed. It will not change.”

“Okay. Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere?”

John scowled. “What? No. There’s no ‘but.’ There never will be.”

It was Zanny’s turn to frown, a slight furrowing of her brow telling John she was having trouble with the concept. “Okay.”

“This is hard for me. I don’t know how to say this without hurting you, and that’s the last thing I want. But you asked me what was wrong, and this is part of it. So I’m answering.” He kept his voice low and his eyes on his hands. He was rotating his ring again, which was a sure sign he was nervous, and he knew Zanny realized that. “When we fought the other day, I said some things… I said a lot of things I didn’t believe. I was angry, and I shouldn’t have said them. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at her. “But there was some truth in what I said. Not that I don’t think you work. I know I’d probably be nuts within a week if I tried to do what you do. And I appreciate very much how much you give, how much effort you put forth, to make life for me and the boys what it is. Okay?”

“Um, sure.”

“That said, you set high standards. And I, well, I feel like I’m not good enough to meet those standards all the time. A lot of the time, if you want the truth.”

Zanny shook her head, her eyes on his hands. “You feel like you’re not good enough for me?” Her voice was quietly shocked.

“A little, yeah. You’ve made me a better person, Zan, please don’t think that I mean anything else. But sometimes, I don’t want to be as good as you expect me to be.”

“Is this about the pizza and beer thing?”

He shrugged. “Kinda. And it isn’t even so much about me, per se, but about us. About you. I know you enjoy taking care of us, but I worry that you feel like if you don’t do everything, that if you aren’t perfect, I won’t want you. Won’t love you. And that simply isn’t true.”

When she crossed her arms, John cursed himself silently. “So you want me to what? Not clean house? Not cook?”

“Not if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. That’s what I’m trying to say here.” He moved so that he was face to face with her. “I want you to know that you don’t have to-to earn your keep. Your value to me isn’t dependent on how nice the roast turns out for dinner or how crisp the sheets are at night.”

He let her process that. She watched him warily, as though waiting for him to tell her he’d been joking, and then she pursed her lips and looked away.

“So let me get this straight. You feel like because I’m the way I am”—she gestured around at the house—“that you have to be just as ‘perfect’ as I am? And you think we both need to not be so ‘perfect’?”

John was sure there was a question in there he needed clarification on, but he wasn’t about to ask her for it. “Uh, yes?”

“Because you love me, no matter what, even if I don’t change the sheets for three weeks or burn your dinner? And that’s why you’ve been acting so distant lately?”