Two by Two(41)

"I don't like lawyer commercials."

"You don't like any commercials, Dad," I said. "That's why you mute them."

He nodded in agreement while the silence grew between us, the only sound  my mother's humming from the kitchen. He scratched at a corner of the  label from the bottle, figuring it was probably polite to ask a  question. "How's Vivian?"

"She's doing well," I said.

"Good," he said. At that point, the game came back on and my dad reached  for the remote control. The mute went off and a peek at the box score  showed that the Braves were down by three runs with four innings left to  go.

"We should head to a Braves game one day. You and I."

He scowled at me. "Are you gonna keep talking all day, or will you let me enjoy the game in peace?"





"I think you've scared him, Dad," Marge said, collapsing on the couch beside my dad. She and Liz had returned from their walk.

"What are you talking about?"

Marge pointed toward me. "He's perched over there like he's afraid to move a muscle."

My dad shrugged. "He was talking and talking, like one of them windup dolls."

"He'll do that," Marge agreed. She nodded toward the set. "What's the score?"

"Four to four now, bottom of the eighth. Braves are coming back."

"Have they brought in their relief pitcher?"

"In the seventh inning."

"Who is it?"

My dad mentioned a name I didn't recognize. "That's a good choice,"  Marge noted. "I really like his slider but his changeup is good, too.  How's he doing so far?"

"Lot of pitches. He's having to work it."

"Do you remember the days when we had Maddux, Smoltz, and Glavine?"

"Who doesn't? That was one of the best rotations ever, but this year … "

"Yeah, I know. Down year. But at least they're not the Cubs."

"Can you imagine? Over a hundred years since they've won it all. Makes  the Curse of the Bambino seem ridiculous, especially considering the  last few years."

"Who do you think will win it all?"

"I don't care, as long as it's not the Yankees."

"I'm thinking the Mets might pull it off."

"As good a guess as any," he agreed. "They're playing good ball. Royals, too, and they've got some serious offense this year."

As he answered, Marge sent a lazy wink in my direction.





Eventually, Marge and I joined Liz on the back porch. From the living room, sounds of the game drifted outside.

"I was never a baseball fan," I said to my sister. "I ran track in high school."

"And now you're jogging with the mamas. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you let your raw athleticism go to seed."

I turned toward Liz. "Does she talk to you like this?"

"No," Liz answered. "If she does, she knows I won't feed her. Besides, you're an easy target."

"I was just trying to say that I don't think Dad would have wanted to  talk to me, even if I did know as much about baseball as you do."

"Don't feel bad about it," Marge shrugged. "You might not know baseball,  but I'm sure Dad can't name every Barbie accessory either, so you've  got that going for you."

"That makes me feel so much better."         

     



 

"Oh, don't be so thin-skinned. Dad won't talk to me when he's in the garage. That's your place, not mine."

"Really?"

"Why do you think I bothered learning anything about the Braves? He  probably wouldn't talk to me at all unless he was asking me to pass the  mashed potatoes while we were eating."

"Do you think that he and Mom talk the way they used to?"

"After almost fifty years? I doubt it. There's probably not much left to talk about. But hey-it clearly works for them."

"Daddy!" I heard from the kitchen, and I saw London was skipping in my  direction. She was wearing a dress that could have been worn on the red  carpet and holding a soft lunch box emblazoned with an image of Barbie.  Another item to add to my vast knowledge of Barbie accessories, Marge  was no doubt thinking. "Look what I got!" London said, raising it for me  to see. "It fits into my Barbie backpack, too!"

"That's great, sweetheart. It's really pretty."

She hugged the three of us while we all took turns admiring her lunch box.

"Are you excited about school?" Marge asked.

London nodded. "I start Tuesday."

"I know," Marge said. "Your dad told me. He said that you met your teacher, too."

"Her name is Mrs. Brinson," London said. "She's really nice. She said  that I might be able to bring Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles to show-and-tell."

"That would be great," Marge said. "I'm sure the other kids will love them. Where are they now? Did you bring them?"

"No. They're at home. Mommy said it was too hot to leave them in the car while we were shopping."

"She's probably right. It's pretty hot today."

"Are you hungry?" I asked London.

"Mommy and I had lunch not too long ago."

So that's where you were. "Did you see Nana in the kitchen?"

"She says we're going to make pudding-in-a-cloud in a couple of minutes.  It's a snack, though, so it won't ruin my dinner. And then we're going  to plant some flowers."

"That sounds fun. How about Papa?"

"I sat in his lap for a little while. His whiskers were itchy when he kissed me. He liked my lunch box, too."

"I'll bet he did. Did you watch the game with him?"

"Not really. We talked about Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles and he told me that  he missed them. And then we talked about school and my bike, and he said  he wanted to watch me ride it sometime. Then he told me that when he  was little, he used to ride his bike all the time. Once, he said he rode  it all the way to Lake Norman and back."

"That's a long way," I said, not doubting it for a minute. It sounded  like something my dad would have done. Just then, Vivian emerged from  the house.

I stood and gave my wife a kiss; Marge and Liz offered hugs before taking their seats again. Vivian sat down, too.

Vivian straightened London's dress. "I think Nana's waiting for your help in the kitchen, sweetie."

"Okay," London said, scampering off and vanishing inside. When the door  closed behind her, I turned toward Vivian, aware that I was still  bothered about her separate bank account, but it wasn't the time or  place to let her know how I felt. I forced myself to smile and pretend  nothing was wrong at all.

"How did it go today?"

"You wouldn't believe what a pain it was." Vivian sighed. "It took  forever to find the right backpack. They were sold out almost  everywhere, but we finally got lucky at the last place we went. It goes  without saying that the stores were packed. It was like everyone in  Charlotte had the same idea and waited until the last minute to grab  school supplies. Which meant, of course, that I had to get London a bite  to eat because she was starving by the time we finally finished."

"Shopping isn't for the faint of heart," Marge observed.

"At least it's done," Vivian said. She turned from Marge to Liz,  focusing somewhere in between them. "How are things going with you two?  Any trips planned?"

Marge and Liz both enjoyed traveling; in the years they'd been together, they'd visited over fifteen different countries.

"Next weekend, we're going to Houston to see my parents," Liz answered.  "In October, we're off to Costa Rica. Right after London's birthday."

"Wow …  What's in Costa Rica?"

"It's more of an adventure trip. Zip-lines, rafting, hiking through the cloud forest, and we'll see the Arenal volcano."         

     



 

"Sounds like fun."

"I hope so. And then in early December, we'll be going to New York City.  There are some shows we want to see, and I hear the 9/11 Memorial  Museum is really moving."

"I love New York around the holidays. I never thought I'd miss it when I  left, but every now and then, I find myself wondering why I ever left  in the first place."

We left because we were getting married. I didn't say that, but  Liz-being Liz-probably sensed my agitation and like me, wanted to keep  things cordial. "There's no other city quite like it, is there?" she  said. "We always enjoy our trips there."

"If you need help getting dinner reservations anywhere, let me know. I  can call my old boss and I'm sure he can pull some strings."

"Thank you. We'll keep that in mind. How's the office move to Atlanta going?"

"It's going. For whatever reason, I've been put in charge of the  logistics, and it's been a lot more work than I imagined. I have to be  in Atlanta for a couple of days at the end of the week."

"But you'll be at school on London's first day?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"I'm sure that will make London very happy. Is there an official move-in date yet? For Atlanta, I mean?"