Butterfly Lane (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Z
anny had a follow-up appointment the next day with her doctor. Emma drove her and kept the boys occupied in the waiting room when Zanny was called back.

“Everything looks good,” her doctor assured her. “I’d wait at least a couple of months before you and John try again, but there’s no reason you can’t after that.”

“Actually, that’s something I wanted to ask you. I want you to put me back on the pill.” She’d taken it between Noah and Eli, and then after Eli was born, she and John had just used condoms and foam. Eli had been the result of the interference from a round of antibiotics, and the other options had just seemed easier at the time. However, Zanny didn’t want to take any chance of getting pregnant again—not until she was ready.

“I understand.” He wrote the prescription and handed it to her, along with instructions on when to start the first round. “It will take about a month before they become effective once you start taking them, so keep that in mind. And, of course, you know about the antibiotic rule.”

“Eli reminds me of that every day, but in a good way,” she assured him with a smile. “Thanks.”

After they left the doctor’s office, Emma took them to lunch across the street. “I called the real estate lady this morning. She’s going to pull some things together for me and touch base in a couple of days.”

“Are you going to buy a house?”

“Depends on what I can find. If the right house comes along? Sure.” When Zanny sent her a speculative look, Emma blushed. “What?”

Zanny tapped her fingers against the table, trying to figure out how to ask what she wanted to know. “I’m just going to be blunt. Do you have the money to do that? Just buy a house? I know that’s none of my business.”

Instead of brushing off the question or laughing, Emma squirmed in her seat. She glanced at the boys, and when she saw they were both occupied with their food, she leaned forward. “That’s a little complicated. We’d better discuss it later, when we don’t have an audience.”

“Okay.” Zanny changed the subject. Lunch went by quickly, and as they drove back to the house, she realized how much she’d missed Emma. “Have I mentioned in the last five minutes that I’m glad you’re home?”

Emma grinned at her. “No. I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind.”

“Not a chance.”

The boys were ready for their nap by the time they got home. Zanny asked Emma to wait while she put them to bed. When she came back downstairs, she found Emma studying the pictures lined up in frames across the fireplace mantel.

“You all photograph so well. I seriously want to get you in front of a camera. Think John would pose for me?”

Arms crossed, Zanny stopped beside her. “I don’t know. That’s going to depend on how well tonight goes. And that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You have my attention.”

“He’s coming back here after work. I’m going to tell him that he needs to go back to the farm for a while. I don’t know how he’s going to take it.”

“Oh, honey.”

“I don’t want to hurt him, Em, but this is not working for me.”

Emma sat down and stretched out her legs with a groan. “He’s going to take it personally. He may even yell. And there’s no way he’s not going to be heartbroken.”

“I know. It might push him over the edge. He may decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth and wash his hands of me and our marriage.”

“I doubt that. But I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t go get drunk again.”

Zanny looked at her with astonishment.

“Yes, I heard about that, even in Georgia,” she said. “Are you sure it’s gone that far? That you can’t mend things with him here?”

Zanny took a seat on the couch. “Yes. His very presence makes me angry. If I hadn’t been so numb this past week, it would have gotten ugly. Until I can get it figured out, he doesn’t deserve that. I’m sending him away as much for his own good as anything.”

“I doubt he’s going to see it that way.”

“I know. I’d have a hard time making sense of it if I were in his shoes. But I have to push back on this. He won’t understand that, either.”

“What do you need me to do?”

Zanny flexed her toes, curling them into the thick wool rug. “Be there for him? Try to, anyhow. Keep an eye on him. I don’t know. Maybe I’m making a huge mistake.”

Emma reached across the space. Zanny clasped her hand and held on.

“And maybe you’re saving your marriage. He’s worth fighting for, Zan. But so are you. And I think maybe you need to figure that out. Figure out who you are, aside from being John’s wife and the boys’ mother. There’s nothing wrong with needing your own identity.”

“Yes, but I think we’ll all pay a high price for me finding it.”

“Perhaps. But I also think you’re worth it. And I have the feeling that, once he gets over his anger and hurt, my brother will think so, too.”

“I hope so. I surely hope so.”

The confrontation was ugly. John was angry and hurt, and he absolutely didn’t understand.

“Is this about the kiss? Or the pizza thing?”

“No.” Zanny tried to find the words that would make sense to him, but she couldn’t find them. “It’s not about you. It’s about me.”

He cursed long and low, mindful of the boys, who were playing on the rug in the living room. Zanny had supper almost ready, and though she was too upset to eat, the boys were hungry.

“That’s what you say when you break up with someone.” He grasped the counter, his head bent, but he kept his eyes on hers. “Do you want a divorce?”

Zanny hesitated, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he wouldn’t look at her.

“Fine. I’ll pack my things.”

“John—”

He slammed the bedroom door. Zanny felt sick.

“Mommy?” Noah poked his head around the corner, his eyes worried.

“Come here, big guy.” He hurried to her, and she picked him up, tucking him onto her hip. “It’s okay. Daddy and Mommy just need a time-out. We aren’t angry at you. All right?”

He held on to her neck, but he nodded. “Is Daddy going to stay with G’ma and G’pa again?”

“I think so.”

“Oh.”

She got him and Eli settled in at the table and got food on their plates, and was getting their drinks ready when John came out of the bedroom, bags in hand. He was quiet, but his eyes glittered with enough anger to make Zanny take a step back. He set the bags next to the back door and went to the dining room to hug the boys. She stayed in the kitchen while he said his goodbyes.

When he came back into the kitchen, he didn’t so much as glance in her direction. Without a word, he picked up his bags and walked out the door, letting it close softly behind him. Zanny stood against the counter, the boys’ sippy cups in her hands, until she heard his car start up and drive away. Letting out a shuddering breath, she sagged against the counter and stayed that way for a few seconds.

She hurt, but she couldn’t mistake the relief she felt. And that shamed her. She knew she would have a lot to answer for in the upcoming weeks, but she hadn’t felt like she had a choice. She just hoped that someday, somehow, John would understand that.

Chapter Thirty-Five

J
ohn didn’t go to the farm. Instead, he went to one of the hotels near the hospital.

“How many nights will you be staying?” the night manager asked.

The question gave John pause. “I don’t know. Let’s start with one.”

“One night it is.” The man’s sympathetic gaze told John he wasn’t the first man to walk in off the street, unsure of how long he would be needing a room. “Breakfast is served from seven ’til ten. Local calls are free.”

“Thanks. Can I get a wake-up call at six-thirty?”

“Sure. Just call back down if you need anything else.”

Key in hand, John headed for the elevator. As the doors closed, he slumped against the wall. If he hadn’t had to get up and go to work the next day, he would have gotten stinking drunk. Since he had a simmering rage building inside, it was probably a good thing he did have to work.

Once in the room, he dumped his bags and flopped onto one of the queen-sized beds. Staring at the popcorn-plaster ceiling, he thought back to how calm Zanny had been when she’d ripped out his heart.

“Fuck it.” He reached for the phone and followed the instructions for placing a local call. Ben answered on the second ring.

“Hey, it’s me. Listen, if anybody tries to get up with me, I’ll be at the hotel up on the hill tonight.”

Ben didn’t speak for a few seconds. “All right. Are you, uh, okay?”

“I’m seriously contemplating getting drunk. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. Just let the folks know if they call? If anyone calls you. I need some space.”

“Will do.”

He hesitated for a couple of minutes after he hung up, and with a fatalistic shrug, he stood. “What the hell is it going to matter?” Making sure he had his wallet and the room key, he headed for the hotel bar.

In the end, he wasn’t able to get drunk. He was afraid if he did, he would end up doing something he would regret for the rest of his life. He ordered a couple of beers and some food, then nursed the alcohol for an hour before finishing it. The waitress had come onto him heavily, sliding her breasts against his arm several times, but he wasn’t interested. Part of him wished he could be. Part of him wished he could take her back to his room and just screw—prove to Zanny and the universe that she didn’t matter, that she hadn’t hurt him so badly he felt like he should be dripping entrails behind him.

But John David Campbell wasn’t made like that. He was the result of a happy marriage made between people who had known, pretty much from the moment they’d set eyes on each other, that they were meant to be together. For God’s sake, his father’s primary animal was a wolf, and wolves mated for life. John might not be a shapeshifter like Owen, but he still had a lot of that wolf in him.

So in the end, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hurt Zanny like that. He couldn’t spend a few hours in someone else’s arms, seeking oblivion. And he didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

Calling his father took courage John hadn’t known he’d had. But he couldn’t spend another night in the hotel, and so he swallowed his pride and made the call at lunch. Luckily, Owen, and not one of his sisters, answered.

“Hey, Dad. Is the studio still available?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to need it for a little while.”

“I figured as much when Ben called last night. Sorry, son.”

When he got there that evening, he didn’t go in the farmhouse. He met his father and Emma halfway between the house and the studio. From the sympathetic look on Emma’s face, he guessed she’d spoken with Zanny.

“Did you know? Yesterday, did she tell you what she was planning?” His voice was harsher than he’d intended, but still feeling raw, John didn’t much care.

“She did.”

He laughed bitterly. “Guess I’m the dumb bastard who was too stupid to figure it out. That’s just great. If you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel much like seeing anyone. Thanks for the bed, Dad.”

They didn’t try to stop him, and John was grateful. He felt like any little thing would set off his temper, and he didn’t want to hurt his family.

Owen and Emma went on inside, where they were greeted by a very concerned Sarah.

“How bad is he?”

Owen wrapped her in a tight hug. “He’s in pretty rough shape.” He sighed and held her closer. “This feels different. I understood why she kicked him out the last time. But I don’t get it this time. I don’t think he does, either.”

“Emma? Any ideas?” Sarah asked.

Emma sat down at the kitchen table and slowly rubbed her belly. “I don’t know if I can explain it, but I understand it.”

Owen let go of Sarah, who went to the stove and checked on dinner. They waited, giving Emma time to formulate her words.

“I know Zanny loves John, and she loves the boys. But she’s never had the chance to learn who she is without him. Her entire life, she’s been defined by circumstances beyond her control. I know, it takes two to make a baby,” she said, holding up her hand to stave off that argument. “But you know what I mean. And she feels like if she takes him back now, without trying to see if she can make it on her own, she’s always going to wonder if she made the right choice.”

Owen scowled and shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why can’t she ‘find herself’ while they’re together?”

Sarah pulled bowls and plates down from the cabinet. “Because it isn’t true independence. Damn it. She’s going to have to see this through, isn’t she?”

Emma nodded, and Owen threw his hands in the air. “You mean you agree with her?” he asked Sarah, incredulous.

She answered carefully. “I don’t know that agreeing with her is the way I’d put it, but I understand what’s driving her.”

“Well, you’ll have to explain it to me in simpler terms. Because I don’t get it.”

The women exchanged a look, and Sarah shrugged. “You’ll just have to trust me on this. If they have any chance of being truly happy, one hundred percent, this is how it has to be. Hopefully, she’ll get what she needs sooner rather than later.”

“I sure hope you two are right.” All Owen knew was that his son was more miserable and angry than Owen had ever seen him. The only time that came remotely close was when John had found out Zanny’s father had beaten her. If they couldn’t resolve the problems between them, Owen was afraid the damage would be irreparable, and it would change John forever.