Chapter 16
Dan could tell by the way Zoe’s lips pressed together, her eyebrows drawing closer in a frown, that she was not pleased to see him in her house.
And he hadn’t intended to come inside, but when he’d knocked on the door and her father had answered, he’d insisted on inviting Dan in, plying him with iced tea, and listening to his life story.
Dan had been here for almost an hour, and he’d been enjoying himself, too.
But now, with the way Zoe was looking at him, he felt like an interfering interloper.
“Hey,” he managed, when the silence had gone on for a little too long.
Zoe’s dad, who had introduced himself as William, straightened in his chair, smiling. “Zoe, sweetheart, we finally met our neighbor!” he exclaimed. “And he’s invited us over for a barbecue.”
“Isn’t that nice?” her mom, Ruth, murmured. She’d been halfway to dozing through most of the conversation, but Dan thought she’d still been pleased to have a visitor, which was part of why he’d stayed for so long.
At the mention of a barbecue, Zoe’s gaze swiveled from her father to Dan, her eyes narrowing to positive slits. Jeez, he wondered, what was the big deal? Were they not even friends now? He was just trying to be a good neighbor. At least that’s what he was telling himself.
“Tomorrow night,” he told Zoe, trying to keep it friendly. “After this storm passes.”
“Isn’t that nice, Zo?” her dad continued.
“I can’t remember the last time we’ve gone out.
Right, Ruth?” He gave his wife a tender smile that made Dan’s chest ache.
That was the kind of marriage he’d wanted and worked for—for better or worse, richer or poorer, thick or thin. Too bad it hadn’t worked out that way.
“That’s very nice,” Zoe said after a pause, her voice toneless. “Thanks for the invitation.” She didn’t look at Dan as she said it.
What was really going on here, Dan wondered. Why was Zoe acting so weird? He decided he wasn’t going to figure it out now.
“I should probably go,” he said, rising from the sofa. Sophie would be home soon, and he should get back.
“But come back soon,” Zoe’s dad entreated, smiling. He turned to his daughter. “Zoe, he plays chess.”
“Not very well,” Dan felt compelled to add.
“And neither do I,” her father chortled. “Please come back.”
Dan glanced at Zoe, who looked frozen, her body tense, her face without expression. Dan had no idea what was going on. Why did she seem so surprised and distressed that he was here?
“Anyway,” Dan said, apropos of nothing. He shook the hands of both Zoe’s parents and then walked from the room; Zoe followed him out.
He turned to her at the front. “Why do I feel like I crossed a line?” he asked bluntly.
“Why did you come here?” Zoe fired back.
“Because I wanted to invite you and your parents to a barbecue,” Dan replied. “Why are you looking at me like you hate me?”
Zoe closed her eyes, her face contorting. “I don’t hate you.”
“Zoe…”
“Don’t.” Her voice was a fierce whisper, her eyes still closed. “Please.”
“I don’t know even know what you’re asking me,” Dan replied, gentling his voice. He felt a torment from her that he didn’t understand. “Zoe… what’s going on?”
She opened her eyes, and to his shock and sadness, Dan saw a tear slide silently down her cheek. “I didn’t want you to come in here,” she whispered. “And see them. Me with them. Everything.”
He shook his head slowly, baffled as well as concerned. “Why not?”
She just shook her head, closing her eyes once more. Dan had the urge, the need, to hug her, but he didn’t feel it would go over well and so he stayed still. “Can you explain?” he asked gently.
“No.” The single word seemed to come from the depths of her being.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I don’t want to.
” And then more tears were sliding down her face, and her shoulders were shaking, and Dan did hug her, because how could he not?
He’d told himself he’d keep his distance from her, because that was the way she seemed to want it, but his resolve hadn’t lasted very long.
The more he’d thought about it, the more he’d decided Zoe’s reticence came out of caution, not disinterest… and he understood that all too well.
Now, as he put his arms around her, Zoe curled into him, her body so slender and slight, her tears dampening his shirt.
Dan felt a surge of protectiveness for her, and something even deeper than that.
He drew her close to his body, as if he could shelter her with his own, and Zoe came, curling even more into him, accepting what little comfort he was able to offer.
Then, after just a few precious seconds, she pulled away.
“Sorry,” she mumbled as she wiped her face.
“I don’t usually fall apart like that.” She gave him a look of frustration that Dan suspected was meant to be mock but seemed genuine, tears still sparkling on her lashes.
“Why do I always seem to cry around you?”
“Maybe because you don’t usually,” he replied. “Zoe, talk to me—”
Already she was shaking her head. “I can’t. Not now, not here, and I don’t even know what I would say.” Outside thunder rumbled ominously and she forced a smile. “You should go, before the rain starts.”
Dan frowned, not wanting to leave her like this. “I’m only next door,” he said. “I won’t get that wet.”
“I have things to do,” Zoe replied, taking a step away from him. “Dinner, and my parents’ meds.” She shook her head again. “Please, Dan. Just… go. We can talk later.”
Knowing he had no real recourse, he nodded slowly and turned toward the door. “I hope we can talk sometime,” he said, but Zoe didn’t reply.
* * *
As soon as Dan had gone, Zoe released a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping before she made herself straighten and wiped her eyes again.
She didn’t want her parents to be able to tell that she’d been crying.
And why had she been crying? The memory of how she’d sobbed in Dan’s arms made everything in her cringe in mortification. That was so unlike her.
But like Dan had said, maybe that was why she’d finally broken. And, truth be told, the feel of his strong arms around her had been so very sweet. She’d felt safe, in a way she hadn’t felt in so long.
With a sigh and another wipe of her eyes, Zoe turned back to the living room and her parents.
“How about lasagna for dinner?” she asked as she tidied up empty coffee cups from the side table. “And salad?”
“Sounds good, honey.” Her mother smiled at her before closing her eyes.
Her dad, however, looked concerned, and Zoe suspected he could tell she’d been upset. “Why don’t I help you?” he suggested, and then slowly, laboriously, he rose from the sofa.
“Dad, you don’t have to. You should rest.”
“I’ve been resting all day,” he told her with some asperity. “I’m not bedridden yet, Zoe, so let me help while I can.”
Knowing there was no point in arguing with him, Zoe headed to the kitchen where she loaded the cups into the dishwasher and checked the notes Emma had left.
William a little more tired than usual. Slept most of the afternoon.
Her stomach clenched at the words and quickly she put the paper in the drawer before getting out some pots and pans. Her father stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame; just walking from the living room had winded him.
“Dad, you really don’t have to do anything,” Zoe said.
She knew she sounded anxious and that it annoyed him, but why was he so pale and breathless?
He’d had a transfusion last week. Usually they gave him a burst of energy, such as it was, and for a few days or even weeks he’d be more energetic—doing the crossword, making lunch for himself and her mom, not falling asleep on the sofa by seven.
“I just need to catch my breath,” he said, and Zoe bit her lip to keep from saying something nagging. “Dan seems nice,” he added after a moment as Zoe started to fry some ground beef.
“He is,” she agreed guardedly. Where was her dad going with this? By his tone, she could tell it was somewhere.
“Sometimes,” he said quietly, “I worry that we’ve taken your life away from you. You’re twenty-eight, Zoe, and you live like a—”
“It’s fine, Dad.” Zoe cut him off before he could say anything more. They’d had this conversation before, and each time she found she couldn’t bear it. She owed her parents so much. She could not begrudge them anything, ever.
“It’s not fine,” he argued, his voice rising, “when you’re living like a—like a sixty-five-year-old nun! You deserve more, Zoe—”
“It’s fine,” she said again, more firmly this time. She turned back to the beef, prodding it with a spatula, wanting to end the conversation.
“Sometimes,” her father said quietly, “I forget how much we’ve asked of you.”
Tension knotted between Zoe’s shoulder blades. “I offered,” she replied, her gaze still on the frying beef. “You haven’t demanded anything of me, Dad, that I wasn’t willing and happy to give.”
“Still,” he protested, and now he just sounded sad. “I’ve become too complacent. I should do more, stay active.” He sighed, slumping against the door frame. “Sometimes it’s just easier to let myself be carried along.”
Zoe left the beef to go over to him and kiss his cheek. “You’re doing great,” she said, willing them both to believe it. “And you have a lot to deal with. Please don’t worry about me.”
“Oh, honey.” Her father’s tired eyes were full of love and sadness. “I’ll always worry about you. It’s my job. I just wish you didn’t have to worry about me.”
* * *
As they ate dinner while watching Jeopardy, the rain started coming down in sheets and thunder boomed overhead.
“So cozy inside,” her mom murmured with a smile for Zoe, and she smiled back.
Yes, it was cozy, and she knew that despite all of the challenges, she wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.
Tucked up with her parents and a plateful of lasagna while watching double Jeopardy…
life really didn’t get better than that.
Yet as Zoe washed up afterward while her parents dozed in front of the TV, she felt a sense that this little life she’d been so intent on preserving was already slipping away, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Her dad, being so breathless, was definitely getting worse, and so was her mother, sleeping all the time, with the trouble swallowing.
She could not keep them on this even keel forever, maybe not even for much longer, she knew that, and yet the knowledge of what came next still terrified her.
She didn’t know if she had the strength to do it alone.
Zoe glanced out the kitchen window, the rain still coming steadily down, obscuring the view of the backyard—and the house next door.
Dan had been so kind to her, she thought guiltily, and she kept pushing him away, out of instinct as well as fear, even when she didn’t want to.
She was so used to being on her own and showing another person her vulnerability felt like the hardest thing in the world…
and yet maybe it was the only way forward.
The only way she’d be able to handle whatever was coming her way next when it came to her parents’ health.
She ducked into the living room and saw her dad smile tiredly at her. Her mother was already asleep.
“I’m just going next door for a few minutes,” she told him. “Okay?”
“Okay, honey.” His smile deepened as his eyes crinkled with teasing humor. “I like the sound of that.”
Zoe managed a laugh as she shook her head. “Dad…”
He held up a hand. “Go live your life, Zo,” he told her. “We’re fine here.”