Butterfly Lane

by T. L. Haddix

  “You little—Zanny, you’re devious. You absolutely have to come work with me. Between the two of us, we can conquer this town.”

  Zanny patted her hand. “I probably will. But if we don’t get in here to meet with Susan, we’re not going to have anywhere to work from.”

  They locked the doors and hurried across the parking lot. Emma stopped Zanny before they went inside. “I’ve not forgotten your half of the bargain. After we finish looking at places, it’s your turn to fess up.”

  “I know. And I will. But right now, we need to find you someplace to live.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  They ended up looking at houses longer than they’d expected and had to delay the commercial aspect of things. But Emma found a house she loved in an upscale neighborhood not far from where Zanny and John lived in Lothair.

  “This is lovely, Em,” Zanny said as they walked through. “Look at those arches, this floor.”

  “It needs work, but I don’t care. It’s worth it.” Hacienda-style architecture set it apart from the typical houses in the area. “It reminds me of my first apartment in Savannah, only it’s one heck of a lot nicer. I love it.”

  “And the yard is nice. The baby will have a great safe place to play.”

  “There is that.”

  “The couple who owns it have already moved,” Susan told them. “Most of this stuff is what they left here so the place wouldn’t feel so empty. Once they close with a buyer, they’ll have it out within a week.”

  Emma dropped Zanny off at her house, then went back to the real estate office to make an offer. She still hadn’t heard back when she picked up Zanny the next day.

  “I’m so nervous. None of the other houses we looked at came close to that one. What if they don’t take the offer?”

  Zanny smiled. “You’re bringing cash to the table, making a full-price offer. Why wouldn’t they take it?”

  “What if they ask Susan who the buyer is, they find out I’m a single mother, and they won’t sell to me? Did you see the crosses and the paintings of Jesus? They’re religious. They’ll take one look at me and turn me down on principle. Oh, I can’t stand this.”

  Zanny’s heart broke a little over seeing the usually confident Emma so worried. She realized then just how significant the impact of finding herself pregnant and unwed had been on her sister-in-law.

  “It’s almost nineteen-ninety, Em. Even if they do find out, they probably won’t care.”

  “It is almost nineteen-ninety. But this is still Hazard. I’m not only unmarried and pregnant, I have the audacity to try and buy a house and build a business in the community. I’m practically flaunting what I’ve done. When I have this baby and put ‘unknown’ in place of the father’s name on the birth certificate, I might as well brand a scarlet A on my chest.”

  “Pull over.” To Zanny’s relief, she did. “Switch places with me. You’re too upset to drive.”

  “I’m being ridiculous.” Emma didn’t move.

  “You are. But you’re entitled. You just need to let me drive so you can fall apart a little more safely.”

  They changed places, and Emma slumped back in the passenger seat with a groan. “I hate being so…uncertain. Is this what you go through when you’re pregnant?” Her eyes widened, and a horrified gasp escaped. She covered her mouth, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, God. Zanny, I’m sorry.”

  Zanny rubbed at her chest. The words stung. She had no way around it. But though she’d felt them like a slap, Emma was in tears, deeply distressed. “It’s okay, Em. I know you didn’t mean to…It’s okay.” She patted Emma’s shoulder awkwardly. “And yes, sometimes. You go from being angry to happy to tearful and back again, all within a few minutes. For a while, you’ll be so muddled, you can’t think straight to save your life. You’re on top of the world and swirling around in it at the same time. Your back hurts, your boobs feel like they’re going to explode, and all you can do is burp and fart. Usually at random, unexpectedly, and at the same time. Add in everything else, and if babies weren’t so damned wonderful, no sane woman would ever go through pregnancy.”

  By the time she finished her recitation, Emma was laughing.

  “Better now?”

  “Yes. Thank you. And I really am sorry.”

  Zanny nodded. “I know. Let’s get this show back on the road.”

  They spent the next couple of hours looking at properties, and Emma found two that she liked. One was on Main Street, but it was close to the courthouse, and the parking situation wasn’t great. The other location was a little further away, up on North Main Street, just past the state police post. Its traffic flow would not be as heavy as the Main Street location’s, but it was located next to a small bakery and was across from an established florist.

  “A lot of the clientele you’ll be hoping to attract are already going to be in the neighborhood. Plus, there’s off-street parking,” Zanny mused.

  Emma countered. “It’s smaller. The other place would have a little more room to set up.”

  The real estate agent chimed in. “Actually, you get more square footage here. There’s an upstairs you could use as an office.”

  Emma walked around the open space, one hand on her belly, the other touching the walls. “Zanny, what do you think?”

  “I think a private upstairs where you could keep the baby trumps the bigger rooms at the other location. We could set up a nice little reception area here,” she said, walking to the window. “Do soft fabric curtains to separate it from the back. Or maybe a shoji screen. The sliding kind, not the little ones. In case you have clients who want more privacy.”

  “How long of a lease is the owner wanting?” Emma asked.

  “Twelve months.”

  She walked over to Zanny and looped their arms together. “If I take it, are you going to sign on with me? Help me make this place the best photography studio in town?”

  Zanny studied her. “You really think I could do that? Learn to run this for you?”

  “I do. You’re the first person I thought of when I decided to come back.” She glanced at Susan. “Can you give us a minute?”

  “Of course. I’ll go over and grab a cup of coffee next door.”

  “Thanks, Susan.”

  Emma waited until she was gone before turning back to Zanny. “I know you’re scared. I know you want to strike out on your own, see who you are. And I think you’d enjoy this job. But I don’t want to force you into anything.”

  Emma had come over for dinner earlier that week, and they’d discussed what she would expect from Zanny and everything the position would entail. Zanny had to admit that it sounded like fun.

  “And what if I end up divorcing John? What then?”

  “We’ve been friends longer than you’ve been my sister-in-law.”

  “That isn’t an answer.”

  Emma scowled. “I know. I can’t promise I won’t be angry if that comes to pass. But I don’t want to see you not do this because of something that might never happen. Try it, Zan, and if you don’t like it, if things go south, you can walk away. No hard feelings.”

  Looking around the space, Zanny imagined working there every day. The building faced south and would get a lot of light during the day. With the walls painted a soft, neutral color, and some homey, functional furniture, it could easily be turned into an elegant storefront. The challenge excited Zanny as much as it scared her, and that alone convinced her to say yes.

  “Where do I sign up?”

  Emma squealed with happiness and did a small dance. “Really? You’ll do it?”

  “God, help us both, I’ll do it.”

  Decision made, they went next door and told Susan the news. She had news of her own, which she told Emma with a smile.

  “You, young lady,
just bought yourself a house. I just checked in with the office. The owners accepted your offer, no contingencies. As long as the title search goes through, we can probably close late next week. Congratulations!”

  Emma’s joy was quiet this time, but her eyes shone with such happiness that Zanny felt her own spirits lift. For the first time in weeks, she started to think things might actually be okay again someday.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Zanny spent Sunday catching up on housework. Certain things, like paying bills and doing laundry, were easier without two small boys underfoot.

  As she sat in the small office John had set up in the basement, reconciling the checkbook, it occurred to her that she’d placed herself and the boys in a precarious position. All John would have to do in order to create havoc would be to not deposit his paycheck in their joint account. She wouldn’t have money for bills, groceries, or gas. It brought back the uncomfortable memories of living with her grandmother and being fully dependent on a man who enjoyed holding that over her head.

  She carefully laid the ink pen on the desk blotter, and opened the drawer where they kept the small fireproof safe box. She pulled out the checkbook register for the account she never touched—her own account.

  For the first few months after she and John were married, she’d been afraid to say “boo” to him, for fear that he’d turn into her father. They’d opened a joint checking account and a joint savings account, but that still hadn’t eased her fears.

  Right before Noah was born, Zanny had been shopping with Sarah and had come across a changing table that she’d had her eye on for a while. The piece was marked down because of a small scratch on the side, and on impulse, Zanny had bought it.

  By the time John got home to their small apartment that evening, she was a nervous wreck. He took one look at her when he came in and knew something was wrong.

  “What is it? Is it the baby?”

  “No. The baby’s fine.” She remembered how hard she’d bitten her lip, her hands twisted together in front of her. “I bought something, and I’m afraid you’ll be angry. I should take it back.”

  She’d thought for sure John would yell at her for spending so much without asking him first. Instead, he’d been genuinely puzzled by her anxiety.

  “Zanny, it’s something we needed for the baby. And it’s something you wanted. You don’t have to justify a purchase like that. I’d probably only get upset if you bought, I don’t know, a refrigerator or something without mentioning it to me first. This is just a little table.”

  His calmness floored her. “But it was seventy-five dollars.”

  “Yes. And I make good money. We can afford it.”

  When he saw that she really was struggling with the idea that she wasn’t in trouble, he pulled her down to sit on the couch, across his legs. She was nearly nine months pregnant, so he had to struggle to get his arms all the way around her, but he managed it.

  “Look, I seem to remember saying something to you about what’s mine is yours, and vice versa. It was mixed up in there with all the ‘till death do us part’ and ‘richer or poorer’ stuff. Do you remember that?”

  Zanny poked him in the ribs. “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. I meant it. There is no ‘my money’ or ‘your money’ here. It’s ‘our money.’ I would ask you to just let me know before you spend a lot of it on anything, and I’ll do the same for you. You don’t have to account to me for every penny you spend. I trust you.”

  She really didn’t know what to think about that. Her doubts must have been clear to read on her face, because when he came in from work the next day, he had a small book with him. He handed it to her without a word.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  It was a bank book, from their bank. When she opened the flap, she saw that her name was the only one on the account, and the starting balance was five hundred dollars.

  “John? What is this?”

  “That’s your account. We’re going to put money in it every pay period, and it’s yours to do whatever you want to with. I’m not on the account. I can make deposits, but not withdrawals. You’ll have to go in tomorrow and sign the slip at the bank, but they let me set it up so I could surprise you.”

  He reached out and gently closed her mouth, which had been hanging open with shock. For a couple of minutes, she couldn’t speak.

  “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Whatever you want. Spend it, save it, whatever. It’s yours.”

  They’d actually argued a little bit about that account, but John had insisted. He’d also faithfully put money in it every two weeks. Zanny had never touched it, and now, five years later, the balance was quite healthy. She’d come to think of it as a savings account of sorts, which she’d hoped to do something nice with at some point or put aside for the boys’ college funds.

  Looking at the numbers, she realized the account John had started for her all those years ago might come in handy to help her survive without him, if it came to that, until she was bringing in her own paycheck. She doubted that was what he’d had in mind when he opened it, but she was so grateful just then, she thought she might cry.

  True, it wasn’t money she’d earned herself per se, but it was hers. She would make sure if she did have to use it, she would be prudent. That little red book might end up being the only thing standing between her sons and an empty belly. If things with John did blow up, at least she would have that account to put food on the table and a roof over their heads.

  John avoided Zanny as long as he could, but when Sunday evening rolled around, he knew he’d hit the wall. He’d thought about trading vehicles with Ben since his car had the boys’ car seats in them and sending the boys home with his brother, but when Emma let it slip during dinner that Zanny was going to be working with her at the photography studio, John knew they were going to have to talk. Before he left to take the boys back home, his mother pulled him aside.

  “Let me guess. You’re going to warn me to not yell at Zanny?”

  Sarah scowled at him fiercely. “Something like that. You’ve been very unpleasant this week to everyone except the boys. And I get it. We’ve cut you some slack because you have every right to be upset. But I don’t want to see you let your temper get the best of you and end up making things worse.”

  John knew he’d been a bear to live with. He’d avoided the house as much as possible. He’d still swiped at anyone who came close, and the whole family was treading softly around him. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll try to not be so hard to deal with in the future.”

  “Sweetie, I know you will. And I know it takes some time. You’ve not talked to us this time, and that’s fine. But I understand why Zanny’s doing this. In the end, it’s going to make your marriage stronger. I do believe that.”

  John had doubts. “Yeah, well, what if she decides she likes being single? What if she gets a taste of being independent and prefers being alone to being with me? Who knows? If this job with Emma works out, maybe she’ll decide that she never would have married me if she hadn’t been pregnant?”

  John was starting to realize that a part of him had been as unsure of Zanny’s true affection as she was of his. That was not an easy realization for him to have to make, and it was putting their relationship in an entirely new light.

  “Then if that’s what happens, we’ll deal with it. I don’t think it will be, though.”

  “You can’t be sure.”

  “No, I can’t.” Sarah reached up and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “But I know Zanny. Just keep what I said in mind, okay? I know seeing her again now won’t be easy, but if for no other reason than keeping the boys feeling safe, you have to keep a lid on it.”

  He nodded. “I’ll do my best.” During the whole drive to their house, he let h
is mother’s advice run through his mind.

  When he pulled into the driveway, Zanny came out on the front porch to wait. Anger surged through him, but he tamped it down. She knelt and held open her arms for the boys, then hugged and kissed them both.

  “How was your visit?”

  “Good,” Noah told her. “I gotta go potty.” He made a dash for the door, Eli close behind, and they watched as the boys disappeared inside.

  Zanny stood and turned to him. “John.”

  “Zanny. We need to discuss some things. Do you mind if I come inside?” She hesitated, and John felt his nostrils flare with shock. “It won’t take long.”

  “Sure, come on in.”

  The boys were running around overhead, their happy chatters echoing down the stairs. With one ear on them to make sure nothing happened, John opened the subject. “Emma said you’re going to be working for her.”

  “I am. And we do need to talk about that. I was kind of waiting until you were ready for that. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.”

  John crossed his arms over his chest. “What about the boys? Who is going to watch them while you’re at work?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you implying I’d neglect my children so I can work?”

  He thought about answering yes just to piss her off, but remembering his mother’s warning, he resisted the impulse. “No. I’m just inquiring as to what your plans are.”

  From the way her jaw tightened, he figured she knew he was spoiling for a fight and was debating on whether or not to give him one. “Martha McCall across the street knows a lady down in Lothair Bottom who babysits. I’ve heard her name around town, too, and she’s got a wonderful reputation. She doesn’t take on many children, three at most, and the family she was working for is getting ready to move. By the time Emma needs me, she’ll be available. Emma’s probably going to use her, too, when the baby is old enough.”