Butterfly Lane

by T. L. Haddix

  “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

  John 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 fi
gure 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.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  John’s anger was still simmering close to the surface on Friday. He hadn’t heard from Zanny, and that was fine by him. But he wanted to see his sons, so he called her Friday morning. He didn’t waste time on preliminaries.

  “I’d like to have the boys this weekend.”

  “I thought you might. I’ll get a bag put together for them. Do you want to pick them up after work?”

  “No. I’d rather not come by the house. You’ll have to bring them to the library. Mom will be expecting you around four.”

  “Oh, okay. John, I—”

  “I have another call. Let Mom know what time you expect them back on Sunday.” He hung up as quietly as he could, which was only a half-slam. Just hearing her voice had set off his temper, and he had to get up and walk outside to cool down.

  He hated to use his mother as an intermediary, but until he was calm enough to not rage at Zanny, it was the safest way to go. He had the feeling it might be a good while before that happened.

  Zanny stood in the kitchen, staring at the phone in her hand as though it had turned into a serpent. The incessant buzzing of the dial tone finally broke through her surprise, and she hung up.

  “John?”

  “Yes.” She turned to Emma and Amelia, stunned. “He’s a little angry still.”

  “More than a little, from the look on your face. Zan, don’t tell me that surprises you.”

  Zanny frowned. “It does. It surprises the hell out of me.”

  “Why?”

  Zanny was too ashamed to admit the reason, even to her best friend. “It just does. Come on, let’s go meet Susan.” Susan was the real estate lady, and she had several houses as well as some commercial properties picked out for Emma to look at. “Amelia, do you need anything?”

  “Nope, we’re good.” The teenager was on spring break, and Zanny was paying her to babysit while they were out. “You two have fun.”

  Once they were in Emma’s car, Zanny asked something she’d been curious about for several days. “You never did explain what you meant, about it being complicated, you buying a house.”

  “I’ll explain that if you tell me why you think John shouldn’t be angry.”

  Zanny scowled. “That isn’t fair.”

  Emma snorted. “Life isn’t fair.”

  With a sigh, Zanny agreed. “Things would be a whole lot easier if it was.”

  “And things would be so boring, humans would have died off eons ago.”

  They both laughed. “I could do with some boring, thank you very much,” Zanny teased. The real estate agent’s office was on the other side of town, so they had a few minutes to talk. “I will answer your question if you answer mine.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Emma stopped for a red light, and Zanny watched as her cheeks flushed. “This does not reflect well on me. I know that. And you may decide you don’t want to be my friend after I tell you this.”

  Truly intrigued, Zanny shifted so that she was facing Emma. “Talk.”

  “The baby’s father, he comes from money. Big money, Zanny. Money like you wouldn’t believe. And I didn’t know that when we met. Honestly, if I had, I probably would have run the other way. So when I discovered that I was pregnant and told him, he wasn’t pleased. That’s when I found out he was engaged to another woman. Had been for almost two years.”

  “Oh, Emma.”

  Her friend’s smile was bitter. “Yeah. The resulting confrontation was pretty unpleasant. I realized then that he’d been using me. I was a fling, a distraction. Nothing more. I was in it for the big picture, and he was in it for a good lay.” She downshifted as they got on the main highway and passed a slow-moving truck as though it were sitting still. “So I was ready to walk away to begin with and had already started packing. About a week before I left, he shows up with his lawyer.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I said.” She glanced at Zanny and grimaced. “He had an agreement, all written out. The terms were pretty straightforward. He wasn’t willing to risk his future with the woman he married. And he was willing to pay for some security.” Nervously, she picked at the leather wrap covering the steering wheel as they waited for another light to change. “He offered me an ungodly sum of money to walk away. To sign this document that absolved him of any and all responsibility for the baby.”

  “And you took it.”

  Emma’s face was bright red, but she nodded. “I negotiated first. Made the son of a bitch double his offer. After taxes.”

  Zanny whistled. “Do I want to know how much money we’re talking?”

  Emma told her, and Zanny felt her eyes just about pop out of her head. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. When I told you he was rich, that’s just a drop in the bucket. Practically pocket change. Seriously.” She shrugged. “That’s enough that if something happens, if the baby needs medical care, I won’t have to worry about it. College is taken care of. And I’ll be able to buy a nice house in a good neighborhood and not worry about putting food on the table. I won’t use the money for myself, but only for the baby. Whatever he or she needs. I think I’m probably one of the worst people in the world f
or doing it, but I knew I’d never see another dime from him. I didn’t want to look back and regret not getting my child enough for care, if it came to that. I didn’t want to punish the baby for my own pride and stupidity.”

  They’d reached the business park where the real estate office was located, and Emma parked while Zanny struggled to find words.

  “Damn. How the hell did you keep your cool long enough to negotiate?” she finally asked.

  That startled a laugh from Emma. “What, you aren’t going to condemn me for being a gold digger? For being a greedy bitch who used her unborn child to get money from a man who was, by that time, married to someone else?”

  “No, I’m not. Because I get why you did it. I know you, Em. You’re very talented and perfectly capable of supporting yourself. You have an independent streak a mile wide. All you did was buy some insurance for your child. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably do the same. Well, I might not have had him double the offer,” she admitted, “but only because it wouldn’t have occurred to me. I admire what you did.”

  Emma was facing away from her, but Zanny heard her sniffing back tears. She dug around in the backseat and pulled some tissues from the box. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She blew her nose. “I can’t believe you don’t think I’m horrible. And you’re one of the only people I can tell about this. I don’t ever want to tell Mom and Dad. I probably will at some point. They’re going to wonder where the money to buy a house came from. But I’m planning to keep that to myself as long as possible.”

  “Well, I don’t think you’re horrible. But I might ask for a little more money if I do decide to take you up on your job offer, now that I know you’re rolling in it.” When Emma finally turned to her with a startled expression, Zanny laughed.