All or Nothing

by Deborah Cooke

  “I should be the one who’s curious, not you.”

  “But you aren’t, and I know you should be. Go on, it’s good. I know because I packed it.”

  “It’s probably booby-trapped,” Jen said, giving the box a shake. She was curious, although she wasn’t sure she should be. It couldn’t be a print of one of his photographs and she couldn’t think of what else he would give her.

  “Quit thinking and start tearing,” Zach counseled.

  Jen opened the outer envelope and pulled out the box inside, her heart stopping cold at its distinctive turquoise color. It was a Tiffany box, but not one for a ring. It might have held a necklace or a bracelet because it was large and flat.

  Jen couldn’t think of a thing to say. There was suddenly not quite enough air in the car. They stopped at a red light and she turned to meet his gaze. She stared at him for a long potent moment, thinking of the things they’d done together, thinking about how much she’d like to do some of them again.

  Zach seemed to be thinking similar things. The air was electric between them.

  She licked her lips without meaning to do so. Zach caught his breath and put the car into gear, sending it skipping into the intersection as the light turned green.

  “You might not have missed me, but I’ve missed you,” he muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have just left after Christmas night.”

  “Run, I think is the correct verb,” Zach said, showing some irritation. “You didn’t leave, you ran.”

  “You’re just mad because I beat you to it.”

  “I wasn’t going to run,” he said so firmly that she half-believed it.

  “You would have tossed me out, then.”

  “Not a chance.” He winked at her. “You ran, Jen, maybe because you didn’t have all of the information.”

  “You’re going to tell me that there’s more info inside.”

  “Pretty much. Open the box.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’re up to,” she said, turning the box in her hands. It was light and didn’t rattle.

  Maybe it was empty. A fake present to commemorate fake dates.

  “There would be one good way to find out.”

  Fair enough. Jen untied the silver ribbon and opened the box. To her surprise, there was an invitation nestled in the tissue paper inside. It was gilt-edged but not stuffy, the edge of the card cut in a funky pattern.

  The Holland Mercer Gallery

  cordially invites you to attend

  Before and After: A Retrospective

  a new exhibit of photographs by Zachary

  January 23 to February 14, 2007

  Artist’s Reception – January 22 – 8:00 P.M.

  There was a telephone number at the bottom of the card to R.S.V.P.

  Jen looked at Zach in surprise. “Is this Zachary you?”

  Zach nodded grimly. “The very same.”

  “It doesn’t have your surname.”

  “That would be the point.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Zach frowned, more serious as Jen had ever seen him. “A lot of things have happened for me—and not happened for me—because of my family name. My father and mother both have lots of connections. I wanted to do something myself, to see what I could accomplish myself, without anyone easing the way or cutting me slack because of who my father was.”

  “You wanted to be assessed on your own merit.”

  “And it’s scaring the crap out of me, by the way.” He flashed her a confident grin, making her doubt that anything could scare the crap out of him.

  Jen turned the invitation over thoughtfully. “And the gallery agreed to that, when they decided to show your work?”

  “They don’t know my surname. I never told them.”

  “So you got the show—”

  “—the old-fashioned way. I took my photographs to an old teacher, who had once challenged me to make something of myself.” He smiled ruefully and spared her a glance. “Unlike anyone else I know.”

  Jen felt herself blush. “I’m sorry that I said what I said…”

  “Don’t be. You were right. Anyway, Mr. Nicholson knows Tom Holland, who agreed to look at my portfolio. I got lucky: Tom not only liked my work but he had a late cancellation which would have left him with empty walls. One of his artists changed to another gallery and he was scrambling to put something together.”

  “You had enough work for the show?”

  “Hardly!” Zach laughed. “Where do you think I’ve been these past two weeks? I’ve been killing myself to get enough done to be framed. And now, it’s in Tom’s hands. I just have to show up and sparkle at the preview.” He took a deep breath, as if he was nervous, which Jen knew had to be an impossibility. She’d never met anyone more confident in her life. His voice dropped low enough to make her shiver. “I’d like it if you could be there, too, Jen.”

  Jen swallowed and looked down. “I might have to work,” she lied, knowing that she might have an even more pressing engagement.

  With an oncologist.

  “And I’m making a personal appeal,” Zach said impatiently. “I’ll talk to Murray if you want. I’ll drive you to work when you need to leave.”

  “You’d leave your own launch party?”

  He nodded tersely. He stopped at another red and gave her a hot glance. “I’d really like you to be there.”

  It was hard to think that he was putting her on, his manner was so sincere, but Jen had to ask. “Why?”

  Zach shrugged and she guessed that his answer would only be part of the truth. “It’s kind of your fault, isn’t it?” he said lightly. “You challenged me and this is the result. Don’t you think you should check it out?”

  Jen watched him for a moment, thought about what he’d said and guessed. “You’re really worried about this.”

  “Does it show?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good! Never let them see you sweat, right Roxie?”

  Jen put the invitation carefully back into the box, smiling a bit that he’d gone to some trouble to get a Tiffany box. “What does your family think of it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Will they be there?”

  He spared her a wry look. “Everyone will be there to see me fall on my face. Trust me. They’ve been waiting for this moment for a while.”

  “I doubt that you’ll fall on your face.” She spoke softly, wishing that she could be there. Maybe she’d go see the show on her own. “I’m sure it will be great.”

  “You make it sound as if you’re turning me down.”

  Jen reached for the door handle as they reached the corner near the intersection she’d named. “You can let me out here.”

  “I’m not stopping until you R.S.V.P.”

  “You have to stop.”

  “I can go three hundred times around the block. Just watch.”

  “I’m late!”

  “And I’m stubborn. Jen, I love you. If you want to ditch me, that’s fine, but I want to show you the change you’ve made in my life first. If nothing else, it could give you a sense of accomplishment.”

  She didn’t say anything, just looked out the window, wondering whether she dared to believe him.

  “Hey, I don’t plan fake weddings with just anybody.” Zach glanced her way. “Did you think I just said that at Christmas to get you to come back to my place?”

  “It did occur to me.”

  Zach swore.

  “It’s not that crazy,” she argued. “It’s been a couple of weeks, Zach, and I haven’t heard from you…”

  “And have I heard from you?”

  “I didn’t confess to being in love.”

  “True enough.” He gave her a hard look. “Does that mean you’re not?” He looked very unhappy with her, more frustrated and irritated than Jen would have believed possible. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but then, she didn’t want to admit to anything that could be used against her.r />
  She was, after all, running late.

  “Okay, I’ll ask you an easier question,” Zach said, his annoyance clear. “Will you come to the show?”

  Jen pushed a hand through her hair in indecision. She was acutely aware of what Zach wanted her to say, but couldn’t fight her own sense that it was foolish to promise what she might not be able to deliver.

  Maybe it would be better to hurt his feelings now than to risk him hurting hers. Maybe the simplest answer was the best one. “Maybe I need to check my Day-Timer,” she said, unable to just decline.

  “Maybe you should do it now,” Zach growled.

  “Maybe I’ll get out the car anyway.”

  “You’ll have to jump.” He was angry. There was no doubt about it, and Jen was sure he wasn’t putting it on. His eyes were flashing and he was changing gears more roughly than he usually did.

  “You really want me to be there?”

  “Why else would I invite you?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Why else would I go to the trouble of trying to get your attention…” He turned to face her, his eyes flashing. “Yes. I would like you to be there. This show wouldn’t have happened without you kicking my butt. It only seems right that you get to see what you’ve done.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “It isn’t meant to be.” He slipped the car into a parallel parking spot, then caught her hand before she could bolt. “What the hell are we doing at this intersection? Tell me the truth this time, Jen.” He spoke with such conviction that Jen was frightened by his perceptiveness. “There’s nothing in this area that could have anything to do with one of your classes.”

  “You don’t know that. You don’t even know what I’m taking.”

  “You’re upset and I’d like to think it’s not because I finally turned up on your doorstep. Okay, I should have called. I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you with something that was done. I wanted to show you that I’d changed. I wanted to impress you with a big gesture.” He arched a brow. “It’s working brilliantly, I can tell, so I’m hoping there’s another problem here. Is something going on, Jen?”

  It was tempting to admit the truth to him, but Jen chose not to do so. “I…I’m just late,” she said, knowing that her excuse was lame. “I hate being late.”

  “And you stink at lying,” Zach said quietly. He sat back and watched her, his expression inscrutable. “Okay, so there’s someone else. Okay, you’re throwing me back.” Jen stared at him, shocked by the conclusion he’d made and by how hurt he appeared to be. “But please come to the show, Jen, even so. For old times’ sake, if nothing else.”

  Jen opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it again. Maybe it was easier this way. “I’ll see what I can do.” When he looked lethal, she offered a bit more. “I’ll try my best. Really.”

  Zach was simmering. He watched her for a long electric moment and Jen felt herself respond to him. As previously, she wanted to make him smile, but it was much worse this time. She wanted to make him smile by making love to him. She wanted to confess her own love for him. She wanted to tell him what was happening and to have him pledge to stand beside her the whole way.

  But it was too much to ask and Jen knew it.

  She wouldn’t ask so he couldn’t refuse. She turned to open the car door, heard him swear, and walked away, her vision blinded with tears. His car didn’t move for a long time. Jen knew it because she heard Roxie whimper and felt Zach’s gaze boring into her back. She brushed away her tears.

  Why did doing the right thing seem so wrong?

  Jen stopped and looked back. Zach was still sitting in his parked car, watching her. When she paused, Roxie barked but Zach didn’t move.

  Then she knew that it felt wrong because it was wrong. Once upon a time, she had taken chances. Once upon a time, she had been impulsive. Once upon a time, she had dared to ask for what she wanted.

  And to expect to get it.

  Once upon a time, she had been, in fact, a lot more like Zach Coxwell that she had been lately. The cancer might have taken that boldness away from Jen, but she could have it back. She could have her life back, her hope back, her sense of optimism back.

  She just had to ask for what she wanted, instead of surrendering and accepting its absence. She loved this man, loved his crazy sense of humor, loved his surety that anything was possible. Just holding his gaze from a hundred feet away, when she couldn’t see the green of his eyes but could feel the heat of his anger, made her guts clench. She loved his determination to live life to the fullest, to learn from his mistakes and to start again, as many times as was necessary.

  He hadn’t been avoiding her. He hadn’t dumped her and moved on. He’d been working hard, preparing for the very first exhibit of his photographs. She was desperately proud of him for seeking out that opportunity, then seizing it once it appeared. He wanted her to be there and she had seen in his eyes how important her presence was to him.

  He’d asked for what he wanted. He’d confessed his love for her. Why didn’t she have the nerve to trust him?

  Jen marched back toward the red Neon, terrified of what might result from taking this chance. Zach might run. He might disappear as quickly as Steve had done.

  But losing Zach would hurt more than losing Steve.

  Jen’s heart was pounding and she knew she was shaking, but her stride didn’t falter. It had been a long time since she had dared to even say what she wanted.

  On the other hand, it was even more frightening to consider that she might be walking away from happiness without giving it a real chance.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zach couldn’t believe it when Jen turned and walked back toward the car. Roxie barked with enthusiasm, her joy at Jen’s return rocking the car on its shocks.

  Something was wrong, though. Zach could see it in the way Jen moved. He’d had that sense before, but now it was redoubled. She was shaking and her steps were filled with defiance, not her usual confidence. He got out of the car and waited for her, a cloud of doom gathering around his heart.

  She was coming to give him bad news.

  She was going to tell him that she was in love with some other guy.

  She was preparing to hurt him, something that wouldn’t be easy for Jen to do, but she would do the right thing and be honest with him. He admired her, even as he feared what she would say.

  Jen surprised him, yet again.

  She stopped in front of him and took a shaking breath. She had a card in her hand, although she didn’t give it to him right away. “Look,” she said, her voice wavering. “I don’t know if I can be at your show, but it’s not because I don’t want to be. I’m proud of you, proud that you’ve decided what you wanted and have gone after it. Don’t think otherwise.”

  Zach shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her, sensing that she had drawn away from him. She looked down at the ground, then met his gaze. He was shocked to see the tears in her eyes.

  She took a deep breath. “You’re right, something is wrong. I haven’t told anyone because it’s too early to know for sure.” A tear escaped, trailing down her cheek and she wiped it away impatiently. “The thing is that I’m late for a needle biopsy. The mammogram I had for a routine check last week showed some abnormalities in my right breast and my oncologist wants to take a sample to be sure.”

  Zach stared at her in shock. “It’s back?”

  Jen shook her head, loosing a number of tears. “I don’t know. That’s why the test is being done. It’s too soon to know for sure, but the point is that everything is kind of up in the air right now.” She fumbled with the card, not showing her usual grace, then shoved it at him. He took it from her shaking fingers.

  “This is the clinic.” Jen half-laughed. “I don’t need the card anymore because I could walk there in my sleep.” She looked up at him and he understood that she was giving him a chance to run. He saw her vulnerability and wanted to gather her up, take her home, keep her safe. She swallowed, her throa
t working. “So, um, maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Before he could answer, she walked away again, moving quickly down the street toward the clinic. Zach looked down at the card, swore, then leaped into his car. He squealed the tires as he pulled away from the curb, and used every trick he knew to get home quickly.

  “You’re going to hang out solo for a while, Roxie,” he told the dog as he double-parked in front of his condo building. “But I promise that it will be worth it in the end.” He left the car running, took the dog upstairs, locked the door and ran.

  He broke seventeen traffic regulations getting to that clinic, but he made it in five minutes.

  * * *

  Jen heard Zach’s tires squeal as he drove away. She winced but didn’t look back. The sound told her everything she needed to know. The man couldn’t wait to put distance between himself and a defective member of the female gender.

  Maybe all men were like that.

  Maybe if she got through this test and everything came out clear, she’d go to his show and tell Zach what she thought of him. She didn’t know whether to be livid or to sit down and cry.

  They were backed up at the clinic, and it was a few minutes before the receptionist could take Jen’s information. She was standing at the counter, trying to appear composed, and wondering whether her credit card would melt in the receptionist’s hands, when someone came to stand behind her. She caught a whiff of soap and cold air and the smell of Zach Coxwell’s skin right before his hand landed on the back of her waist.

  Her heart stopped cold.

  “Need a different card, honey?” he asked and the bottom fell out of her universe.

  She glanced back, saw his proffered credit card, the familiar strength of his hand, then dared to look up. She trembled inside. He was still angry with her and she didn’t trust his presence fully yet. “No, thanks. I think this one’s fine.” She met his gaze and swallowed. “Honey,” she added.