by T. L. Haddix
“Aim for the ribs, boys. He’s ticklish.” John showed them just where to goose his brother for the best advantage. He finally cried uncle, and John pulled the boys off him.
“I missed out on the fun,” Sarah said as she joined them. She hugged Zanny. “You okay?”
Zanny nodded. “Better. Much better.”
Standing with a groan, John held out his hand to her. She took it without hesitation and stepped closer to him. He didn’t miss the happy look his parents exchanged upon seeing the connection.
Owen helped Ben to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get your truck unloaded.”
“Zanny, come on in and get cleaned up. Are you staying for pizza?” Sarah asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. It will be nice to have a full house again.”
“You have a full house every Sunday,” Ben joked. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Of course not. Boys, come on inside. We need to check on the cookies.”
Ben and Owen went to the back of the truck and started pulling out the pieces of the swing set, but John watched as his family went in the house. He knew Zanny was in good hands, but he just wanted to go to her, to hold her, and reassure her that he loved her. Because as much as he felt as if she’d had a catharsis behind the barn, given the depth to which her father had apparently betrayed her, John knew there would be more pain to come.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Using his resources, Owen took just over a week to learn the sad truth. Zanny had known the news wasn’t good when Sarah called her at work to ask if they could come by Monday evening. She’d thought about saying no and putting it off, but she couldn’t. Instead, she issued an invitation of her own.
“Will you join us for dinner?”
“We’d love to. Can I bring anything?”
“No. Just yourselves.”
Zanny let them in when they arrived, and she smiled as the boys danced around the living room with excitement.
“Come see our new toys,” Noah begged, tugging on Sarah’s hand.
“I’d love to. Lead the way, young sir.”
“Grandpa?”
“I’ll be up in a minute,” Owen assured him.
“John got held up at the office. He should be here shortly,” Zanny told him awkwardly. “Have a seat?”
He took the chair, and she perched on the edge of the couch. Given how much news she’d gotten and given on this particular piece of furniture in recent months, she was starting to loathe the sight of it.
Owen was very straightforward, which Zanny appreciated. Still, hearing his words was a blow. She’d prepared for the worst as much as she could, but there was no getting around the dagger of pain that pierced her heart.
Molly Dean Franks, who had astonishingly still been married to Dennis, had died two years prior.
“How?”
“Lung cancer. I’m sorry, Zanny.”
She had to clear her throat. “So am I.”
He gave her a few minutes to take it in. Owen had to be one of the most patient and kind men Zanny had ever met.
“Tell me what you found?”
“Of course. She was living in Frankfort, near her sister Jocelyn and Jocelyn’s husband, Steve. She worked in a finance office as clerical support. She and your father never divorced, according to her obituary.” He handed her a file folder. “There’s a copy of it in there, along with the address and phone number of your aunt. I thought you might want that.”
Zanny fingered the thick paper without opening the folder. “How old was she?”
“Forty-eight.”
The number was stunning. “That’s so young. Somehow, in my mind, I pictured her being older.”
The kitchen door opened, and John called out, “I’m home.”
“In here,” Zanny answered as she stood. “Hey.”
“Hey, gorgeous. Dad.” He looked from Owen to Zanny. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Your parents are having dinner with us. I need to check on the food. Excuse me.” She touched John’s hand as she went past him, but she didn’t stop for a hug or kiss. She knew she would fall apart with the effort of any kind of gesture.
By the time supper was ready, she had pulled herself together. The meal was quiet, but the boys, mostly Noah, kept them entertained with stories about their day at Mrs. Hendricks’s house.
“It sounds like she’s a neat lady,” Sarah remarked when Noah paused to inhale some mashed potatoes.
He grinned up at her. “She is. And when I asked her if cousin M—” He stopped himself, his eyes growing huge with concern, as he shot a fearful glance at Owen.
Sarah’s quiet question drew his attention back to her. “Cousin Moira?” When he nodded, his lower lip quivering, she gave him a hug. “It’s okay. Grandpa told me you play with her at our house. I think that’s wonderful.”
Noah studied her quietly for a long moment, and though the rest of the adults traded glances, they kept eating, not wanting to draw any more attention to the moment.
“How is Moira?” Sarah asked him.
He relaxed. “She’s okay. She said she likes to visit ’cause she can see everyone. She’s a lot smarter than me ’cause she’s been around a long, long time. Did you know Moira? When everyone could see her, I mean?”
“I did. So did Grandpa.”
Noah mulled that over, then forked up some of his green beans. “I wondered. Anyhow, Mrs. Hendricks said Moira could come play if she wanted to. I don’t think she believed me, but she pretended. That’s okay.”
“Yes, it is.”
Zanny felt everyone breathe a collective sigh of relief when he turned back to his food, the conversation about Moira in the past. Talk turned to John’s job and then to the photography studio.
“Emma’s getting so big,” Sarah mused. “I wonder if her due date is wrong.”
“So do I.” Zanny toyed with the stem on her water glass. “I worry about her after John comes home, permanently, I mean. I don’t like the idea of her being alone. I know Emma’s an adult, and she thinks she’s invincible, but I don’t believe she has an idea of how hard it is to be a new mother. And she’s very sensitive to any criticism, implied or otherwise, right now.”
“Ben and I were talking about that the other day,” John said, surprising her. “He swears he has something in the works that’s going to solve the problem of her being alone, but he’s being a clam about what it is. Mom, any idea?”
“No. He hasn’t said a word to me.”
“For all his mischief, if Ben knows something he doesn’t want shared, you’d never realize he knows it,” Owen said. “That laid-back attitude is just a facade. He’s a lot deeper than he puts on.”
John agreed. “Like the Ainsley thing. Zanny knew her name.”
They all looked at her, and Zanny shrugged. “Ben mentioned her to me a few years ago. Something about the way he said her name stuck in my head.”
Owen set down his glass and tapped the wide base with one finger. “Given the way he reacted when John brought her up the other day, I’d say there’s a lot to that story we don’t know.”
When the men offered to do the kitchen cleanup after the meal, Zanny was more than happy to let them. She and Sarah headed to the back porch to watch the boys run off the last of their energy for the day.
“Are you really okay, about the Moira thing?” Zanny didn’t want to upset Sarah, but she wanted to make sure.
“I wasn’t, not when Owen first mentioned it to me. But after the shock wore off, I’m really kind of glad to know that she’s okay. Given the way things ended, I mean, when she died. I was going to ask you if you would mind if I have a talk with Noah about her, someday. I’d love to know what he can tell me.”
Zanny had to think about that, even though she wan
ted to say yes immediately. “It scares me that he can do that.”
“Of course it does.” Sarah took her hand. “Even though I was expecting my children to be ‘different,’ seeing the girls change for the first time was…disturbing. Even though I’d seen Owen change over the years and was somewhat accustomed to having him follow me around as a deer from time to time.” Her smile was sweetly impish, and Zanny couldn’t help but laugh.
“That would be unsettling, I imagine.”
“To say the least. But for you to find this out, that Noah has this ability we’ve never known about? I don’t envy you.”
“I’ll consider what you’ve asked. I want to talk to him first, see how he feels about the whole thing. So much has happened the last couple of weeks, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and discuss it with him. I feel awful about that.”
“You will. You’re a good mother, Suzanna. My grandchildren couldn’t be in better hands. That’s something I’ve never doubted.”
As the conversation turned to lighter topics, Zanny thought about her own mother. She didn’t know what kind of relationship they would have had if Molly had been in her life. As angry as she was that she’d been denied the chance to make that connection, if God stood in front of her and told her she had to choose between Molly and Sarah, the choice would be simple. Sarah meant that much to her.
“You know, I think I would have married a troll if it meant getting you for a mother-in-law,” she told Sarah.
She laughed. “Thank you. I think.”
Resting her head on the back of the porch swing, Zanny smiled. “It’s a compliment. And fortunately, John isn’t a troll. Thank you for letting me have him. I’m sorry I’ve not cared for him as much lately as I should have.”
“I don’t know if I agree with that. I think you’ve given him just what you needed to, and yourself. The connection between you seems stronger than ever, and it was pretty strong before. Am I wrong?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Zanny knew she wasn’t wrong. All she had left to do was figure out a way to tell John that she wanted to reconcile formally. With everything else, it hadn’t been foremost in her mind lately. But it was definitely something she was going to have to think on. He needed to know just how special he was to her. Nothing less would do.
First, however, she needed to resolve the situation with her mother. John and their marriage deserved her full attention, and until she got all the answers she needed, she couldn’t give him that.
Chapter Fifty-Six
On Tuesday, Zanny and Emma had lunch at the bakery next door to the shop. It had become a habit of theirs to go at least once a week because the food was scrumptious. Zanny had ordered a caesar salad with grilled chicken, and Emma had gotten the chicken salad croissant. As delicious as the food was, though, Zanny was picking at hers.
“What’s on your mind?” Emma asked as she stole a piece of chicken.
“Those letters. My mom. My aunt.”
“I think you’re going to have to give in and call.”
Zanny propped her chin on her hand and stirred her iced tea. “And say what? ‘Hi, I’m your long-lost niece. I didn’t know you existed until last week. How’s life?’”
Emma used a leftover bit of her bread to wipe the plate clean. “Yeah, kinda. That’s exactly what you say. You have to start somewhere.”
“You don’t think that my popping up is going to blindside them?” Zanny was skeptical. Seeing the way Emma was eyeing the rest of her salad, she pushed it across the table.
“Of course it will. But you said that your mom, in her letters, mentioned time and again how supportive your aunt and uncle were. I think they’ll be overjoyed to hear from you at last.”
Zanny sighed. “I won’t rest until I do.”
“You won’t.”
“And the Fourth of July is coming up. If I don’t contact them now, they might be out of town for the holiday.”
“So use the phone at the office and call them. Get it over with.” Emma shook her lemonade, resettling the ice so that she could get out the last of the liquid. “Trust me on this. Ripping this bandage off fast is going to be easier than letting the wound fester underneath. And a few days can make a difference.”
From the pensive expression on her face, Zanny figured Emma was thinking about the baby’s father again. She’d been doing that a lot lately, along with second-guessing herself. Her self-doubt was hard to watch because she was normally so confident, and Zanny hated the unknown man for putting that kind of weight on her friend’s shoulders.
Reaching across the table, she took Emma’s hand. “Stop that. You’re exactly where you need to be and where you want to be. Don’t let the hormones tear you apart like this. You and that baby are going to be so surrounded by love, and so happy, you’ll look back at these days and smile. I believe that, Em.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I have to keep reminding myself of the horror on his face when I told him about her,” she confessed. “The disgust and disdain. But I also keep thinking about the good times. Don’t they say our memories trick us, so that we only remember the good and not the bad after a while?”
“It’s a coping mechanism. But some things we don’t need to forget, or we can’t go forward and truly appreciate what we have.”
Emma smiled. “You’re the philosopher on me, now.” She kissed Zanny’s hand, making them both laugh, then sat back with a sigh. “I’ll be fine. I know you’re right about that. Most of the time.”
“As long as you know it most of the time.” Zanny stood and started clearing their table. “You really think I should call her? My aunt, I mean?”
“I do. If for no other reason than you get it over and done with.”
“Then I guess I’d better do it, before the two o’clock appointment gets here. No time like the present.”
When John came in from work that evening, Zanny was tense. She was in the bedroom, folding a basket of laundry, and he stopped in the door to admire the view of her in short denim cutoffs and one of his old T-shirts. She gave him a hug and a lingering kiss, but the muscles across her shoulders were as hard as rocks.
“What’s going on?”
She shrugged as she tugged his shirt from his waistband, unbuttoning it. “Do you have to work this weekend?”
John obliged her by raising his arms, and they got his shirts off. “No. Why? And uh, not that I’m not thrilled to be getting undressed with you, but aren’t the boys upstairs? Or is that noise I hear some really big squirrels?” he asked as a belly laugh floated down from above.
“They are. And I didn’t mean to come on to you like that,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing. “I just thought you might be cooler without so many layers on.”
Grinning, John backed her against the door, closing it in the process. “You just wanted to see me naked. I don’t mind.” He dipped his head for a kiss. Her arms came up around his neck, and she moaned softly. John could almost feel her tension melting away.
Footsteps running back and forth in the playroom thumped over their heads, and John decided to see how far she would let him go. He reached for the waistband of Zanny’s shorts and undid them. Pushing them over her hips, along with her underwear, he let them fall.
“We can’t,” she whispered, her cheeks going scarlet. “The boys…”
“Will make enough noise that we’ll hear them coming.” He undid his pants and touched her between her legs. “I want to play, too.”
Their coupling was fast and hard, but satisfying. He took her against the door, a fact that left him laughing after they were finished.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as he let her down to her feet.
“Us. I feel like a damned teenager again. In a good way.” He kissed her deeply, then stepped back, leaving
his pants on the floor. “So what’s going on this weekend?”
“That depends. I called my aunt this afternoon.” She used the T-shirt he handed her to blot the wetness between her thighs. John locked the door and followed her to the bathroom.
“How did that go?”
“Better than I thought it would. We both cried,” she admitted. “She wants to meet me. She invited us up this weekend, for the day.”
“Do you want to go?”
She didn’t answer straight away. “Yes and no. More yes.”
“Just us, or the four of us?”
“Just us this first time.”
“Then we’ll go.”
A rapid-fire knock hit the bedroom door, and John could hear the knob being jiggled. “Mommy?”
“I’ll be right there, Noah,” she called. She finished cleaning up and shot John a look full of disbelief as she got dressed, “I can’t believe I let you do that. In broad daylight.”
Confident that wasn’t a complaint, he leaned against the door, naked, and grinned. “I’ll do it again, too. I can’t have you thinking I don’t want you passionately.”
When Zanny edged past him, her hand shot out and tickled him intimately. John jerked and grabbed her hand to stop her.
“Wench.”
“Don’t you forget it. Love you.”
He let her go, and she crossed the room, edging into the hall so that the boys couldn’t see in. He heard her speaking to them softly. Giggles and pounding feet followed. The door opened a crack.
“We’re going to the yard. See you in a minute?”
“Sure. Zanny? Love you, too.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Their conversation was fits and starts on the drive up to Frankfort on Saturday morning. Zanny had been so anxious the night before that she’d tossed and turned well into the night. John had finally just rolled onto his back, pulled her on top of him, and started making love to her.