All or Nothing (20 page)

“Early spring or late?” Cin demanded, interrupting a familiar argument. “Lilacs or roses?”

“Depends when we can book the church,” Jen said, raising the stakes a notch. “Have you phoned yet, honey?”

Zach snapped his fingers. “You're right, honey. I forgot again. When we go to church Sunday with my mom, we can maybe ask the minister. I'm sure he'll arrange it.”

“Getting married in church?!” Natalie and Gran exclaimed simultaneously, although their reactions were opposite.

“You're going to church?” Natalie demanded. “I thought you were working Sunday brunches.”

Jen nodded weakly, resolving that she'd reciprocate in kind at Zach's family dinner. They'd be living together like hippie flower children and
never
getting married, smoking dope every night and having love-ins on alternate Saturdays.

“I shall have to get a new hat,” Gran said with satisfaction. “A church wedding. What a delight that will be! I never thought I'd see the day that one of my grandchildren would be married in a church.”

“There's nothing wrong with city hall,” Natalie said, her teeth gritted. “Marriage is a secular bond and religious institutions have no right to...”

“Oh, we have to get married in church,” Zach said, picking up his cue with perfect ease. “Don't we, honey?”

Jen nodded. “His mother wouldn't hear of anything else.”

“Maybe you know the big Episcopalian church in Rosemount?” Zach asked. “That's where it will be.”

“Lovely!” Gran enthused.

“Wait a minute,” M.B. interjected, his manner thoughtful. “Didn't Jen say your surname was Coxwell? Are you one of those Coxwells?”

“Which Coxwells?” Gran asked.

“That's us,” Zach admitted, his manner less easy than it had been. “You must have read about my brothers in the paper last year.”

“Yeah,” M.B. said, leaning back in his chair. “I did. Your family is really old Mass.”

“I guess we are,” Zach said. “Arrived on the Mayflower and all that, but you know, timing isn't everything.” Jen watched him try to divert the conversation but she couldn't figure out why. “Anyone know the difference between a lawyer and a trampoline?”

“I didn't read about his family,” Natalie said. “Or if I did, I don't remember.”

M.B. wagged a finger at Zach. “Judge Robert Coxwell would have been related to you, then.”

“He was my father,” Zach said, with a dark glance at M.B. “Now, the difference between a lawyer and a trampoline...?”

“Judge Robert Coxwell?” Natalie and Gerry straightened and inhaled in unison.

“He wanted to overturn Roe vs. Wade,” Natalie fumed.

Gerry nodded vigorously. “And his agenda for the Supreme Court would have set us back a hundred years...”

“He's dead,” Zach interrupted more sharply than Jen had ever heard him say anything. He was serious, and she'd never seen him that way either. He pushed aside his plate, then grimly delivered his punch line. “The difference is that you take off your shoes to jump on a trampoline.”

No one laughed.

Jen didn't know what to say. Zach appeared to be quite upset.

Or was he just putting it on?

“That's very sad that your father passed away, but still, his ideology...” Natalie began, but M.B. shook his head.

“Leave it, Mom.”

“I don't think so, M.B. This is important. If Jen is going to marry into this family, we need to understand...”

“The judge committed suicide, Mom,” M.B. interrupted flatly. “Maybe talking about that isn't very festive for Zach.”

Natalie flushed and sat back in her chair.

“Thank you,” Zach said quietly to M.B.

“No problem. It's a day for gratitude, not for mourning or grudges.”

Zach nodded and toyed with his wine glass, apparently out of conversation for the moment. Jen met M.B.'s gaze and smiled at him. “
Thanks
,” she mouthed and he nodded once. M.B. was the one who made bridges in this family of divergent views and she was glad he had done it again.

She knew one way to make Zach smile again. “Maybe we shouldn't wait until the spring, honey,” she said, her tone playful. “What about Valentine's Day?”

“A manufactured holiday,” Gerry intoned. “Based upon nothing but generating the sales of greeting cards and imported flowers.”

“You don't need time to arrange a simple wedding,” Natalie chided. “And besides, there's no rush. Shouldn't you get to know each other better?”

“A simple wedding?” Jen asked, well aware of how Zach's eyes were widening. “Oh no, Zach's mother has already made it clear that we'll have to have at least five hundred guests. She was saying, actually, that she didn't know how she'd keep the list that small.”

Gerry took a deep breath. “Big wedding ceremonies are a waste of money and prey upon the insecurities...”

“And they require flowers, Gerry, lots of beautiful flowers,” Jen said. “You've given me an idea with this pretty bouquet, honey. I think we'll have Asiatic lilies and roses. Do you think they'll be available in February?”

“I'm sure they can be flown in from somewhere,” Zach assured her. “Cost is no object, if that's what you want, honey.” Jen was ridiculously glad that he had rejoined the discussion.

Natalie hissed again.

“Red and white is lovely, especially for Valentine's Day,” Gran enthused.

“And pink rose petals scattered down the aisle,” Cin added with glee.

“Buckets and buckets of them,” Jen agreed.

“Maybe we'll need our own jumbo jet to come from Ecuador,” Zach said with a smile. Jen smiled back at him as controversy stormed over the table once again.

* * *

Zach had the definite feeling that the Sommerset clan liked to argue. Maybe it gave them something to talk about.

In a way, he enjoyed the repartee over the dining table himself, except for the bit about his father. Even with the dissent, this was far better than the brooding silences fraught with meaning and embellished with small talk that had characterized his own family functions.

He realized that he preferred having differences of opinion out in the open. They seemed less potent that way, than resentments left locked in the dark to breed. When no one talked about issues—as was the case in his family—the smallest things ended up casting long shadows.

If nothing else, it kept him on his toes. He tried to ensure that he picked up every hint from Natalie to put himself in her bad books, although it wasn't easy for him.

He became aware that his efforts were undermined every time Jen cracked a smile. Her mother obviously was pleased by this and was prepared to put her own opinions aside for the sake of her daughter's happiness. He tried harder, but Natalie proved more and more difficult to visibly displease as Jen looked more and more radiant.

In a way, Zach had to respect that. He could understand Natalie's desire to see Jen happy and smiling. It was noble. It was what parents were supposed to do.

In another way, he wanted to deliver his side of the bargain. He kept trying. By the end of the meal, he'd shot a roll of film, eaten too much dinner, come to like Jen's grandmother and to respect her older brother M.B., developed a new appreciation of cabbage rolls, and eaten tofu for the first time in his life.

Yet he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that the height of his maternal approval rating had been when he'd confessed to being arrested for marijuana possession.

Too bad he couldn't have introduced Natalie to his father. That would have made for some fireworks. The two would have disagreed on every single point of discussion. Interestingly, Zach knew that his father would have walked away from the discussion, as would have Gerry. Natalie, he suspected, would have tried to find some common ground.

The whole family worked together to clean up Gran's kitchen, the older lady looking a bit tired by the end of the meal. The brothers teased each other, snapping tea towels at each other like kids, as Cin started the washing and Ian loaded the dishwasher.

Gerry informed them of the evils of labor-saving devices and the impending doom of higher energy prices, but they all ignored him. Natalie sat with her mother, drinking a brandy as she watched Zach. It was convivial in a way that was unfamiliar to Zach, but he was glad to pitch in.

The Sommersets seemed to accept each other as they were, even if they made a lot of commentary about each other's choices. No one seemed intent on changing anyone else, which was a radical concept for Zach. Zach's father had always been hot to improve all of his children. Here there were lots of answers and they all got air time, but no one expected universal agreement—much less, adherence to an edict.

Even as Zach dried plates, he felt as if they'd known him for years. Or at least as if they'd let him wash dishes for years. Pluto snapped a wet towel at him. Cin bossed him around. M.B. talked to him about photography. Jen shook her head at her siblings and showed him where things went. Her grandmother smiled approval at him.

It was homey. And unfamiliar.

And
nice
. Zach struggled against an attack of the warm-fuzzies. Usually he was immune, and in his family, there was little chance of having to defend himself against them. Pluto went to get his guitar, Jen went to the washroom, Cin and Ian headed into the living room to argue, followed by Natalie and Gerry.

Jen's grandmother came to Zach, took the wet tea towel from his hands and hung it up. She reached up, to Zach's astonishment, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, dear. I shouldn't have let you help, but I do appreciate it.”

“It's good to get the kitchen clean,” Zach said, surprised by how touched he was by her gratitude. “They're just dishes.”

“You like things clean, then?”

Zach nodded. “Kitchens and baths. I focus on key areas of biological invasion.”

She chuckled, then dropped her voice. “My granddaughter is a very special girl,” she said firmly, the glint in her eyes telling Zach that this wasn't the sum of what she wanted to say.

“She is,” he agreed and he wasn't putting anything on.

“You be good to her and we'll have no quibbles, no matter what you've done in the past. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Then you can call me Gran, too.”

Zach grinned, relieved that the approval of Jen's grandmother was his. “Fair enough.”

Now he could ask Jen out for a date, and that wasn't all bad.

There sure was a lot of protectiveness going around. Zach didn't have a chance to say anything more before Jen returned. She came to his side and put her hand through his elbow as if they touched all the time.

Did she feel that little sizzle that he felt?

Was she thinking about that kiss, the one they'd had in this very kitchen only a few hours before, their first kiss? He sure was.

And he wanted another.

“We should go,” she said brightly. “Don't we still need to drop in at your brother's place, honey?”

Zach was sure he hadn't told her about James and Maralys, much less Maralys' plans for Thanksgiving. On the other hand, she knew he had brothers plural and only one sister. Jen was guessing but she was good at it, and she left him room to correct her, if necessary.

Zach smiled, liking how smart she was. “Yes, Maralys wanted to meet you,” he agreed. “She's going to love this dress. Although I should pick up Roxanne first.”

“Roxanne?” Cin asked, her eyes wide. She was lurking in the doorway to the dining room, probably eavesdropping on everything.

“His dog,” Jen supplied, as easily as if she'd known all along.

“Oh. Dogs are nice.”

“This one is very nice,” Jen said firmly, as if she knew anything about it, then led Zach to the door before anyone could ask any more questions. “Let's go, honey.”

She really had to stop using that endearment.

And Zach had a couple of ideas of how to persuade her to his point of view.

I
t was time to dump Zach.

The sooner, the better.

As far as Jen was concerned, Cin's scheme had come to its conclusion. Her mother had enough doubts about Zach that Jen could have considered the plan some kind of a success. The problem was that now there was supposed to be a wedding in February.

Enough was enough. The sooner she and Zach had a fatal fight, the better.

The sooner she and Zach resolved to never see each other again, the better the chances that Jen wouldn't do anything stupid.

Like kiss him again.

Or worse. She could start to like him, or like him more than she already did. It didn't help that she had fun with him. It really didn't help that he made her laugh. Was it her fault that he was funny? Was it wrong to be flattered by his attention?

No, but it would be stupid to think that there was more to this than that. Jen knew that she wouldn't be able to remember that for long. She was the kind of person who made emotional investments easily.

Even if Zach was confident in a way that was half-forgotten to Jen, and she felt like she was standing in a sunbeam when she was close to him. He was optimistic and ready for anything, qualities that she could only envy.

And trading quips with him was too much fun.

No doubt about it: Zach had to go.

Maybe her mother would give her a year of slack to mend her supposedly broken heart. It was the best Jen could hope for at this point, and it was good enough. She refused to think about owing Zach anything, never mind how well he kissed, never mind that she might be tempted to make more of what was between them if she spent too much time with him.

Jen knew Zach's type. To prove it to herself, as they walked down the sidewalk together in silence, she made a mental bet with herself about his car.