by T. L. Haddix
Mostly, she stared out the window at the front yard, trying to make sense of how her life had been turned upside down so completely in such a short amount of time.
Around four, John headed to the kitchen. “I’m going to get some food pulled together. Do you think you can eat?”
She hadn’t been able to choke down more than two bites at lunch. Seeing the worry on his face, she sighed. “I’ll try.”
He saw her seated comfortably at the small kitchen table, then turned to making sandwiches.
“Just make me half, if you don’t mind.”
“I can do that. Now, I won’t promise the same kind of results you can achieve with one hand tied behind your back, but it should be edible.” The words were light, but he couldn’t quite pull off a smile. Zanny knew he was hurting, and when he brought her plate to her, she reached for his hand.
“Thank you.” She kissed the back of his hand.
His fingers tightened around hers convulsively, but he didn’t say anything.
She managed to eat about half the food he’d given her, which surprised her. Once they were finished, she realized she was exhausted.
“I think I’m going to lay down. Are you going back to your parents’ tonight?”
John’s face closed down. “I wasn’t planning on it. Not as long as you need me here.”
She felt a little as though she’d kicked a puppy. “I didn’t mean… I’m glad you’re here.”
When he continued wiping down the already-clean counter without speaking, she cursed softly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I think we’re both exhausted. I’ll bed down on the couch.”
Too weary to argue, Zanny nodded. She headed to the bathroom and changed into her nightgown, and when she came back out, he had the bed turned down.
“If you need anything, just call out.” He tucked her in and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you, Zan.”
He didn’t wait for her response, but left quietly, flipping the light switch off as he went. He left the door open about halfway, and Zanny followed the sound of his footsteps as he went into the kitchen.
She was sorely tempted to call him back and beg him to hold her and promise everything was going to be all right. She resisted the urge. Closing her eyes, she willed sleep to come. Part of her medicine pack was a muscle relaxer, and it was fast acting. She eagerly embraced the oblivion it promised, as that beat the hell out of the alternative.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
By Thursday, Zanny was getting back to normal physically, but she was still struggling emotionally. She was still in bed when John knocked softly at the door, then peeked in.
“Hey, are you awake?”
“Mostly. Are you heading to work?”
“Yeah. But you have some visitors. Easy, guys. Remember, Mommy’s sore.”
Noah and Eli filed past him, making a path straight for the bed. Eli climbed up carefully, but Noah glanced back at John for approval.
“Come on up, Noah. It’s okay. Oh, my babies. I’ve missed you so, so much.” She pulled both the boys to her, cuddling them close and inhaling their little-boy smell. A piercing sadness lacerated her heart when she thought about the baby that never would be, but she was also overwhelmed with joy at having her sons back in her arms. She couldn’t hold them close enough.
After a couple of minutes, Noah started to squirm, and Zanny had to let him go. He stayed close, however, looking her over.
“Daddy said you had a boo-boo. I don’t see it.”
“It’s not the kind of boo-boo you put a Band-Aid on, sweetie.”
Noah frowned. “Kind of like when my belly hurts?”
“Very much like that.”
“I hate to interrupt, but I have to go. Mom’s here if you need anything.” John stepped in the room. “Can I get hugs first?”
“Yes!” Always eager for a hug, Eli crawled over Zanny’s legs. John took both boys in his arms and made a production of giving them each a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’re in charge of making sure Mommy doesn’t work too hard today. Maybe you all can do some reading. How does that sound?”
Noah’s eyes lit up. He loved books.
“We’ll be fine,” Zanny told John. “Have a good day. We’ll see you tonight?”
“That’s the plan.” He didn’t try to kiss her, but his eyes lingered on her face with a longing that twisted Zanny’s heart.
Once John was gone, Sarah popped in. “Hey. I wanted to say hi. How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“You have more color.”
“The, um, flow is slowing down,” Zanny said carefully, mindful of the little ears in the room. “Guys, do you mind going with Grandma while I get dressed?”
“Okay, Mommy. C’mon, Eli. Let’s go pick out books.” Noah tugged a reluctant Eli off the bed and down the hall, chattering the whole way about his favorite stories.
“I’ll give you some privacy and make sure they don’t get into too much mischief,” Sarah told her with a smile.
“Thanks. I won’t be long.”
After a quick shower, she pulled on loose, comfortable clothing and went in search of her housemates. She found them in the living room. They had pushed aside the coffee table and spread several books across the soft wool rug that covered the hardwood floor.
“I see you found a few things.”
Noah nodded, his eyes bright with excitement. “Grandma had some in her bag.”
Sarah chuckled and smoothed her hand over his head. “You know, your grandpa is the only other person I’ve met who gets that excited over books.”
When he shot her a look as though to say, “Well, of course. They’re books. Who wouldn’t love them?” Zanny surprised herself by laughing. As soon as the sound escaped, grief and guilt followed, and she had to bite her lip to stem the tears that threatened.
Sarah saw and came over to her. “Boys, we’re going to go to the kitchen. We’ll be back. Come on.” She wrapped an arm around Zanny.
Once they were in the kitchen, she enveloped her in a hug. “Don’t do that. Don’t punish yourself for living.”
Zanny clung to her. “I—it’s just so soon. How can I smile and laugh? It hasn’t even been a week.”
“You smile and laugh because you have beautiful boys who light up your world. You smile and laugh because that’s what you have to do for them. And for yourself. You’re not out having a party, sweetie. It’s okay. Grief isn’t always wailing and gnashing teeth. It can be funny. It can be silent. It can be angry. No one mourns the same way.”
Sarah had shared some of the details of her own miscarriage with Zanny earlier in the week. Aside from the separation, their circumstances had been startlingly similar.
“How long does it hurt, Sarah? When will the pain go away?”
Pulling back so that she could use a napkin to gently blot Zanny’s wet cheeks, Sarah smiled sadly. “I still look back and say ‘what if’ from time to time. So does Owen. It would have been easy to get stuck in that grief. If we hadn’t had the little rug rats we had, it would have been harder, I think. You cope at first, and then you start to heal. But there’s always going to be a scar. I won’t lie to you and say there isn’t.”
“You’ve never lied to me. Do you know how much that means, that I know I can always come to you, and I don’t have to worry if you’re telling me the truth or not?”
Sarah pulled her in for another tight hug. “You are my favorite daughter-in-law. Did you know that?”
Zanny snorted with laughter, albeit soggy laughter. “I’m your only daughter-in-law.”
“I know. And I’d marry you to both my sons if I could.”
Giving herself permission to be truly amused, because the idea of having both Ben and John as
husbands was mind-boggling, Zanny held on to the counter and her belly and let her giggles spill out. Her laughter triggered Sarah’s amusement, and soon, they were both full-on laughing.
It was cathartic. For a moment, Zanny thought she wasn’t going to be able to stop, but when Noah came in to see what they were laughing about, she calmed down.
No matter what happened in the future, Zanny thought, even if she and John didn’t make it, she was comforted knowing her sons had such wonderful grandparents. And that sliver of positive thinking was enough to get her through the day.
Chapter Thirty
Owen was finishing up the last of a series of preliminary sketches for his next book when he heard the car door slam. He’d gone back to working in his studio, since John was at home for the time being. The peace and quiet he’d cultivated in the studio over the past thirty years was soothing. He didn’t mind sharing the space with John while he worked things out with Zanny, but Owen was big enough that he could admit he enjoyed having his own space.
He rolled his chair over to the window to see who had pulled up, and when he saw Emma’s car, a wide smile started in his heart and spread to his face. Capping his brush pen, he put it in the holder where it went, then hurried downstairs and across the yard. Emma came off the porch as he came around the corner of the house.
“Daddy!”
“Emma Jean!” He caught her up in a bear hug and spun her around. “Oh, it’s good to see you.” They were both laughing, and Owen had to admit, he was crying a little. Something was wrong, though, and as he set her on her feet, his smile turned to a frown.
Emma was tall, the tallest of his three daughters, and while she wasn’t skinny, she’d never been heavy. But she had a noticeable bump that Owen just couldn’t get his head around. Standing back, her hands still in his, he stared at her in disbelief.
“Em? What…”
Her eyes full of trepidation and regret, she shrugged apologetically. “Daddy, I’m pregnant.”
After the initial shock wore off, they went in the house. Owen led Emma to the kitchen and poured them both tall glasses of lemonade, then sat her down at the kitchen table.
“This is why you’re home?” He gestured toward her belly. He saw her hackles go up immediately, and he winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, Em. It hasn’t been a good week.” He didn’t know how in the world he was going tell her about Zanny and John losing the baby. He wondered if he could wait until Sarah got home.
“I know you have a lot of questions. I know everyone will. But yes, I’m running home, tail between my legs. I want my baby to grow up here.” She touched her abdomen protectively, and Owen realized how tired she looked. “I know it’s going to cause gossip. I’m sorry.”
He held out his hand, and after a brief hesitation, she took it. “Other than how it’s going to affect you, gossip isn’t a concern. What about the father?”
Emma traced the base of her glass, collecting the condensation on her fingertip. “He’s not in the picture. He’s permanently not in the picture. Let’s just say that he turned out to not be the man I thought he was.”
“Does he know?”
“That I’m pregnant? Yeah. I told him as soon as I found out.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
She gave a half-smile. “I know it isn’t what you and Mama wanted or expected from any of us. And I know with John and Zanny having problems…this just adds to the burden.”
Owen squeezed her fingers and sat back. “About John and Zanny. I’m afraid I have some news.”
She was devastated when he told her. To Emma’s credit, she immediately understood his concerns. “And here I am, showing up pregnant when she’s just lost…Oh, Daddy. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Hush. You’re where you need to be. And yes, it’s going to be a shock for Zanny and John, but they’ll handle it. I just wish the timing was a little different.”
“So do I.”
Chapter Thirty-One
On Thursday, John decided to drive up to the farm and get his dirty clothes after work. He had intended to do laundry Sunday, but he hadn’t gotten a chance. He’d checked with Sarah to make sure it was okay before he made the trip. She’d assured him it was.
When he pulled into the driveway, his heart leapt at the sight of Emma’s car. Laundry forgotten, he headed into the farmhouse eagerly.
“Hello? Em? Are you here?”
After a moment of silence, Emma called from the living room. More than ready for some good news—and the sight of his sister was certainly that—John went in that direction. Emma was sitting on the couch with Amelia, and she didn’t get up when he came in. That was unusual, but it didn’t register too firmly.
“Lazybones, get off the couch and come here. Where’s my hug?”
When she stood up slowly, her lack of enthusiasm made sense. John knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Emma didn’t try to approach him, just clasped her hands together in front of her belly—her pregnant belly.
“Oh, God.” His reaction was visceral, and John was powerless to control it. For a few seconds, he thought he was going to throw up. The pain actually doubled him over, and he stood with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. When Emma took a step in his direction, he straightened.
“I can’t. Oh, God. I can’t see you like that.” Pushing past his father, who’d stopped in the doorway to the living room, John hit the front door at a run. He didn’t stop until he reached the barn. Once he was there, several minutes passed before he could think rationally.
Hearing a sound behind him, John turned. Owen had come into the barn, a look of deep concern etched onto his face. “You okay?”
John nodded. “I overreacted. Is Em all right?”
“She’s fine. Worried about you.”
Together, they went back to the house, where Emma and Amelia met them on the porch. Emma bit her lip as she watched John approach.
Wordlessly, he held open his arms. She fell into them with a sob.
“Oh, Johnny. I’m so sorry. So damned sorry.”
“Come on, Amelia. Let’s go in.” Owen left them alone on the porch.
Emma pulled back and touched John’s face. “How’s Zanny?”
“Coping. It’s still fresh, as you might have noticed.” He glanced down at her baby bump. “You’ve been keeping secrets, Emma Jean.”
“A little bit. Come on. Let’s sit down.”
The air was warm in the fading light of the day. “How far along are you?”
“Sixteen weeks.”
“And my prospective brother-in-law?”
“Married someone else last month.” She shrugged. “I messed up.”
John hugged her. “No. Don’t say that. You made a mistake, that’s all. What a fucked up situation this is, Em.”
“You could say that. I can’t even give you a hard time about hurting my best friend, can I? Because you’re hurting, too.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something to tease me about eventually.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I reacted like that.”
“Don’t. I told Daddy that if I’d had any idea about Zanny, I would have waited to come home.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Because after the initial shock of it, I think Zanny is going to need you.”
“I’m going to need her.”
“Have you told Ben yet?”
She stretched out her legs. “No. I have a call in to him. I imagine he’ll head this way once he gets the message that I’m here.” She hesitated. “John, how are you going to tell Zanny? Without hurting her, I mean?”
“That is a question I don’t know the answer to. Would you be offended if I asked you to not come see her until I give you the all-clear?”
“Of course not.” Tears rolled down her cheeks
. “I’d so hoped we’d be having babies at the same time, or close to. Oh, Johnny. This just sucks.”
John was in absolute agreement. He had no idea how he was going to tell Zanny about Emma’s pregnancy, and he didn’t have much time to think about it, either.
Chapter Thirty-two
Zanny knew as soon as she saw John’s face that something was bothering him. She and Sarah had gotten supper ready, and John arrived home just before they started dishing it out. She didn’t stay to eat, but Sarah promised to come back soon if Zanny didn’t feel up to going to Sunday dinner.
Though curiosity was eating at her, Zanny decided to not ask John what was wrong until after the boys were upstairs in bed. He beat her to the punch, though, when he came back downstairs. With his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, he looked charmingly rumpled, which distracted her from her concern for a few seconds. If the situation had been different, if the last weekend hadn’t happened, Zanny thought it was entirely possible she would have invited him to stay the night.
“So I need to tell you something that’s going to upset you.”
All thoughts of romance fled. “What?”
He paced back and forth on the other side of the coffee table. “Emma’s home. I saw her at the farm earlier. And while that’s a good thing, she, um, well, there isn’t any easy way to say this. She’s pregnant, Zan.”
The meaning behind his words didn’t sink in immediately. When it did, Zanny’s hands went to her own abdomen in a reflex as old as time. “Oh.”
John was watching her closely, no doubt concerned about her reaction. But Zanny didn’t know what her reaction was. The idea that her best friend was carrying a child when Zanny wasn’t any longer was painful. But more than that, she was confused.