by T. L. Haddix
Owen sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “No. We’ll call her. I’ll let you know what we find out.”
“John and Zanny?” Sarah asked as soon as he hung up.
“Yeah. That was Ben. John’s with him, and he’s been drinking. I was afraid something like this would happen.”
Sarah was frowning. “I know you said that earlier, but I still don’t understand how you knew.”
He laid his face alongside hers, hard-pressed to explain. “I know John, and something’s been bothering him for a while. Damn, Sarah. I wanted to be wrong.”
“I should call Zanny.” She touched his cheek softly, and he kissed her fingers.
“Yes. We may need to go down there. Amelia’s capable of staying with the boys, if need be.”
He paced the living room while Sarah made the call. “She’s not answer—Zanny? Are you okay?”
Amelia came downstairs just then, and Owen met her at the living room door.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Looks like John and Zanny had a fight. Your mom’s on the phone with her now.”
Amelia’s brow wrinkled, and she shook her head. “But they don’t fight. Ever.”
Owen tugged on her ponytail. “I know, baby girl.”
Wrapping her hands around his arm, she leaned into his shoulder. “I’ve always thought that was a little odd, and that they needed to fight every now and then. I mean, even you and Mom fight. Maybe this is a good thing.”
Owen looked down at his youngest child, who wasn’t much of a baby anymore at sixteen, and smiled. “I’m afraid to ask why you say that, or what we’ve done to give you that impression.”
She smiled up at him with a cheeky grin. “Something to do with the way you and Mom act after you make up.” She turned serious when Sarah hung up the phone, cursing under her breath. “Mom?”
When Sarah threw a small pillow across the room and turned to them, her expression full of anger, Owen straightened. “What?”
“Your son.” She shook her head, her fury obvious. “They had a fight. He—Amelia? We’ll need you to watch your nephews in the morning. Okay? We have to go to Zanny.”
The teenager nodded and crossed the room to hug Sarah. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”
Sarah hugged her back. “Give your father and I some privacy. Thanks, sweetie.”
Owen watched until Amelia went in the kitchen at the end of the hall. Then he turned back to Sarah. “Do we need to go down tonight?”
“No. Zanny wants some time alone. Owen, I swear if I got my hands on that boy right now…I might just strangle him. For real.” She crossed her arms around her waist and paced back and forth. “She was very upset, but from what I was able to get from her, she caught him with another woman. He swears he isn’t having an affair, but she doesn’t believe him.”
“She caught him what?” Owen was stunned.
“Kissing someone. At work. And they went home and got into a fight about a bunch of things. I don’t know anything else. She’s been crying. She didn’t get to tell him about the baby. I asked if she wanted us to come down, but she said no. Not tonight. But we’ll go in the morning.”
“Do you think there’s any chance it was just a misunderstanding?”
They exchanged a long, troubled look, and Owen knew she was probably remembering their own misunderstanding—the one that had nearly destroyed their relationship. He crossed the living room and tugged her into his arms.
“I hope that’s what it is. Oh, God, I hope that’s what it is. Because if he is cheating on her, I don’t know if I can keep from beating the boy to death,” Sarah muttered against his chest. “We raised him better than this. I never expected…but you did. You aren’t that surprised.” She looked up at him. “Why not?”
Owen tried to find the words. “Because he’s been restless. I hope he isn’t having an affair, either, but I’ve gotten the feeling lately he isn’t as happy as he was. It could just be stress.”
A short time later, they went to bed and tried to sleep. But neither he nor Sarah was very successful. They headed to town just before eight in the morning, after Sarah had called to make sure Zanny was up.
As he sat in Ben’s kitchen, waiting for John to come out of the bathroom, Owen knew his oldest son had a lot to answer for. He was trying to hold on to his temper, and as much as he hated to use Ben as a buffer, he thought that was probably a good idea.
“This is going to be awkward, but I’d appreciate it if you would stay while I talk to John.”
Ben handed him a mug of fresh coffee as John came down the hall. “Whatever I can do to help. Hey. I poured you some coffee. It’s next to the pot, already sweetened.”
“Thanks,” John murmured, keeping his eyes on Owen. “Dad.”
“John.”
“You’re here early.”
“Not really. Your mother and I have been at Zanny’s for the last hour. Sarah’s still with her.”
John blanched. Owen was glad the boy knew he was in trouble. John glanced at Ben, and his hands tightened around the coffee mug. “How is she?”
“Upset.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“You know that since the first few months you were married, your mother and I have made a policy of only stepping in to help if you and Zanny asked us to. And that we love you both, no matter what.”
“I know.” John hung his head, and Owen could see him struggling with his emotions. He tamped down any sympathy he felt and went on.
“But after hearing what she told us a little while ago, I’m seriously tempted to take you out to the parking lot and beat some sense into you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Owen saw Ben’s head jerk toward him. Glancing at his youngest son, he saw that Ben’s eyes were wide with shock. Owen had very, very rarely even spanked the kids when they were growing up, much less been heavy handed with his punishment.
“Holy hell, John, what did you do?”
John pulled out a chair and sat in it heavily. “I screwed up.” He set the mug down and braced his elbows on his legs, resting his head in his hands.
“Are you having an affair with the woman she caught you kissing?”
John’s reaction was swift outrage. “Dad!”
Owen saw Ben’s hand curl into a fist and had a moment of doubt about conducting the interrogation in front of his youngest son. But he pressed on, needing to know what the truth was.
“Are you?”
“I wasn’t kissing her. She kissed me. And hell, no. I’m not cheating on my wife.” John’s face was flushed with anger and embarrassment, and he raised his head to glare across the small table. “You know me better than that.”
“I thought I did. I hoped I did. But after hearing what else Zanny had to say, I have my doubts.”
“What else did she say?”
“That you denied having an affair, but you made it very clear you weren’t happy. And you said things that hurt her very much. Made her feel pretty much worthless. That’s my interpretation, not hers, by the way.”
Owen could tell Ben was keeping quiet only by sheer force of will. His gaze was locked on John, and his fist was clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. Ben had always been close to Zanny, and Owen was starting to really think having him sit in on the conversation hadn’t been a good idea.
John sat back in the chair, and Owen saw anger rise in his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t say she was worthless. I said that she didn’t work at a real job, and she doesn’t know what it’s like to have to carry the load.”
Ben sucked in a breath and started to rise from his chair. Owen reached out and touched his arm, and he sat back down, but Owen’s hand didn’t stop him from speaking. “You can’t be that stu
pid. You said that to her?”
John looked from Owen to Ben. “What? She doesn’t. I don’t mind being the breadwinner. But I’m tired of constantly having to be perfect. Take my shoes off at the door. Don’t eat in the living room. Fix this, fix that. Want to have a beer with Ben and Rick? Well, sure. But first, can I do three hours of work around the house? By the time I’m finished, she’s tired and needs rest from running after the boys, so I’m a heel if I leave her at home while I go out and have fun.” He shook his head, and Owen could tell he really didn’t get it. “How does that make me the bad guy? All she has to do is keep the house together and take care of the boys. I work sixty hours a week.”
“Good God.” Ben’s tone was disgusted, and he shoved his chair back with a loud scrape as he stood. “You really are that stupid.” He went to the coffee pot and poured a refill for himself, but he didn’t drink it. He just stood at the sink, shaking his head.
“What the hell do you know? You aren’t married.”
An emotion Owen couldn’t identify flashed across Ben’s face before he turned to his brother.
“No, I’m not married. But I’ll tell you what. I would give my left nut to be married to someone like Zanny. So since you’re so unhappy, why don’t we just switch places? I’ll move into your house, and you can move in here? At least I’d never make her feel worthless. Jesus! I never would have pegged you for some damned chauvinist, John.”
“I’m not a chauvinist. And I’m not giving you my wife.”
“You may not have a wife much longer,” Owen interjected before the bickering could turn bloody. “Not the way she’s talking.”
“What? She can’t seriously think I want out.”
“She sure as hell doesn’t think you want in. And where did you get this idea that just because she doesn’t have a job outside the house, she doesn’t work? We didn’t raise you like that.”
“Come on, Dad. You can’t tell me that you think she works as hard as I do. I know she isn’t laying around all day eating bonbons, but she goes wherever she wants, does whatever she wants. How hard can it be to keep the house clean? Hell, it’s spotless, so she can’t work that hard at it. There isn’t that much work to do. She cooks most nights, but again, how hard is that?” John stood and moved to the door leading to the living room. “I appreciate what she does, but it’s not a full-time job.”
Owen rubbed his forehead, exchanging a look with Ben. “I think if you had to do what Zanny does every day, seven days a week, you’d beg for mercy. And I hope Zanny makes you learn that lesson before she takes you back, because she deserves a man who really does appreciate her for what she does, who she is.” He stood and walked to the door, looking at John eye-to-eye. “But right now, John David, that’s not you. And it breaks my heart to say that. What doesn’t break my heart is the idea of watching you explain to your mother what you just said. I just hope there’s enough of you left that if Zanny wants your sorry carcass back, she can put you back together. Ben, walk me out?”
“Sure.”
They left John standing in the doorway, stunned, and didn’t speak as they headed downstairs.
“Do you think what you said got through to him?” Ben asked when they reached the lobby.
“No. But hopefully, it sparked a couple brain cells into firing.”
“How is Zanny?”
Owen shrugged. “Not good. She’s pregnant. That’s what she was going to tell him last night.”
When Ben closed his eyes and cursed, Owen realized there was more going on here than just a brother-in-law being upset. “Ben, do you have feelings for Zanny?”
“What? No!” The words seemed sincere. “She’s always been special to me. You know that. And she…well, she reminds me of someone. So I guess maybe I think more of her because of that.”
Owen decided to keep that in mind for exploring later. Apparently, his son had been in love with someone. “I need to go get your mom. Don’t say anything to John about the baby, okay? I only told you because I wanted you to know.”
“I won’t say a word. So what happens now?”
“I don’t know. That’s up to John and Zanny.” He pulled Ben in for a quick hug. “We’ll see you tomorrow for dinner?”
“Of course.”
As he drove through Hazard to get to John and Zanny’s house, Owen tried to sift through his emotions and his impressions of John’s reactions. He kept coming back to one thing—until John learned to appreciate Zanny, he didn’t deserve to be let back into their life together. And as much as he loved his son and wanted to see him work things out with Zanny, Owen hoped she didn’t accept John back too easily. He needed to have to work to keep her. She was worth the effort, and that Zanny didn’t believe that of herself broke Owen’s heart all over again.
Chapter Twenty
John 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 s
ee 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
“Is 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.
