Page 40 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
Liz nodded and released her arm. “That’s probably just as well. Are you coming to Pilates?”
“Not today.”
She had more pressing matters to attend to, like finding Zach and telling him she never wanted to see him again.
14
“You got back late last night,” Jenna remarked as Zach strolled into the kitchen the morning after his and Maggie’s kiss. She was sitting by her laptop as usual, sipping coffee and looking tired.
“Yep.” He couldn’t keep a satisfied smile from spreading across his face, and his sister, of course, noticed.
“Oh, boy.” She shook her head. “Who is it this time, Zach?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand, although her weary tone annoyed him. “None of your business.”
“Oh, really?” She let out a huff of laughter. “You’re usually alittlemore forthcoming than that.”
He shrugged and reached for the coffee. He wasn’t about to talk about Maggie, at least not until they’d spoken to each other and clarified the nature of what had happened last night. Then he’d shout it from the rooftops… assuming Maggie was on the same page he was, and he was pretty hopeful that she was.
Jenna took another sip of her coffee as she eyed him over the rim of her mug. “Don’t you get tired of trying?” she asked, and this time there wasn’t the spikiness he usually heard in her voice when she talked about his dating life, just a jaded resignation that bordered on sorrow.
He regarded her uncertainly, surprised by her tone. He’d never heard his sister sound like this before, like she was struggling against a tide of despair. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Jenna sighed and looked away. “Aren’t you tired of trying to have what Mom and Dad have?” she asked bleakly. Zach simply stared at her. Why on earth were they talking about theirparents? “What they have is unique,” Jenna continued, “and frankly pretty unhealthy. I mean, it’s more than a little co-dependent, don’t you think? The way they’ve always been so wrapped up in each other? They have no emotional space in their lives for anyone but each other. Not even their own kids.”
Now he heard true bitterness in her voice, and he marveled at it. They’d never talked about their parents like this before; like everyone else in Starr’s Fall, he’d assumed his parents were a great couple, because clearly theywere, even if they hadn’t been the most hands-on mother and father. Slowly Zach lowered himself into the chair opposite Jenna’s as he cradled his coffee mug between his hands. “Did you feel… neglected growing up?” he asked curiously.
Jenna gave him a belligerent look. “Didn’t you?”
Zach considered this.Hadhe? He’d taken his parents’ relationship at face value—intense, loving, and yes, maybe a little overwhelming. But he’d seen it as something to aspire to rather than feel left out of. Everyone in Starr’s Fall marveled at the Millers, what a great couple they were, what perfect partners, running their store together, starting it from scratch, working so hard, never a cross word between them.
“I mean, don’t you remember how it was?” Jenna pressed. “Really? Mom and Dad never went to any of your baseball games, but even with the store they still had time to take a two-week vacation to Hawaii by themselves for their anniversary.”
“It was their twentieth,” Zach protested. “And we were teenagers.”
“You were twelve. I was eighteen.” Jenna gave a twitchy kind of shrug. “I don’t begrudge them the trip, but still—why didn’t they come to your games? Why didn’t they care about what we were doing? Do you remember when I gave that assembly my senior year, on the importance of small businesses?” He did, only vaguely, but he nodded because it was clear his sister was on a roll. “It was a big deal to me,” she stated, “and they didn’t even show up.”
All right, yes, Zach remembered his parents not showing up to a lot of things, but it hadn’t bothered him that much… had it? “They always had the store…” he protested, because that had always been their reason.
“Until they didn’t,” Jenna cut across him, “like when they went to Hawaii for that trip, or when they decided to retire to Florida four years ago without even asking if we’d like to take the store over, just assuming we would.”
“But we did,” Zach reminded her. “And they knew that was what we wanted. I mean, it was what you wanted, wasn’t it, Jenna?” He certainly hoped so, considering how much control she exhibited over it.
“Yes…” she admitted, “but maybe for the wrong reasons. I don’t know.” She shrugged unhappily. “It just feels all kinds of seriously messed up, but maybe that’s just me.”
Zach was silent, trying to view their childhood through this new, unwelcome filter, and yes, he supposed he could see where Jenna was coming from, sort of. His parents had certainly been wrapped up in each other, with Jenna and him both treated more or less as afterthoughts; they’d always valued date nights but not so much family meals. They spent hours talking to each other but seemed distracted or disinterested whenever he and Jenna had anything to say.
The store had been their baby, their golden child, and Zach and Jenna had always been expected to help out while not being allowed any input, which was probably where Jenna got her control freakery from. Zach had been shocked when they’d handed the whole place over to them so abruptly; he certainly had not anticipated them moving to Florida the way they had. Truth be told, just about everyone in Starr’s Fall had been a little shocked when the Millers had justleft.
But maybe that was because once again they’d only been thinking about what they wanted. It felt weird, as well as wrong, to think about his parents like that. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if what Jenna was saying made sense… which was kind of uncomfortable to consider, because it never had even crossed his mind before, and what did that say about him?
“I know they knew we were willing to take over the store,” Jenna told him, “but it was never about what we wanted. Only what they did.”
Zach was silent again, absorbing this, accepting it. Certainly, he reflected, when his dad had called him up in the middle of freshman year and asked—commanded, really—that he come home and take care of the store while he supported their mother through cancer treatment, he had not been thinking about what Zach might have wanted or even needed. But truth be told, Zach had felt honored to be asked, had wanted to be needed by his parents. Was that part of it all? Because, he realized, even then he’d felt separate from them; they’d been in their own bubble through all the chemo treatments, essentially shutting him out of the whole difficult experience, which was how he’d turned to online gaming, for some social connection. He hadn’t really thought about all that before, just accepted that was how it was with his parents. How it always had been. But as he’d told Maggie, it had been a long, lonely year.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I mean, yeah, they did their own thing?—”
“Zach,” Jenna cut across him, sounding impatient, “it’s been four years since they moved to Florida and we’ve only seen them twice. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
