Two by Two(73)

She never mentioned me; her focus was entirely on London. Toward the  end, I heard Vivian ask to speak to me again. This time, I didn't feel  the need to leave the room.

"Hey there," I said.

"She sounds good," Vivian said with palpable relief. "Thanks for putting  her on. I'm in the car now and should be there in less than a couple of  hours."

Thanks to Spannerman's private jet, no doubt. Which was no doubt the reason she'd put me on hold earlier. So she could ask him.

"I'll be here. Let me know when you land."         

     



 

"Will do."





Vivian texted when she touched down. For a moment I wondered whether my  family should stick around, but then I chided myself. London was in the  hospital, and they would stay until visiting hours were over. Because  that's what family was supposed to do. End of subject.

However, I suspected that my family harbored a natural curiosity  regarding Vivian. My parents hadn't seen her for over a month-since the  day London started school-and it had been even longer for Marge and Liz.  I'm sure they were wondering whether the new Vivian differed from the  one they'd known for years. And how, of course, we would all treat each  other.

A nurse came in to check London's vitals; the doctor followed and asked  London questions again. Though my daughter's voice was weak, she  answered them correctly. He told us that he would continue to monitor  her condition regularly for the next few hours. When he left, I found a  channel on the TV that was showing Scooby-Doo. Though London was  watching, she looked as though she might soon fall asleep.

Vivian arrived a few minutes later. In faded jeans that were torn at the  knees, black sandals and a thin black sweater, she was her usual chic  self, though she looked harried.

"Hey everyone," she said, sounding out of breath and distracted. "I got here as fast as I could."

"Mommy!"

She rushed to London, covering her with kisses. "Oh, sweetie …  you were in an accident, huh?"

"I have a cut on my forehead."

Vivian took a seat beside London, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.  "I know. Your dad told me. I'm glad you were wearing a helmet."

"Me, too," she said.

Vivian planted another kiss on the top of her head. "Let me say hi to  everyone, okay? And then I want to sit with you for a while."

"Okay, Mommy."

Rising from the bed, she approached my parents. Right away, she embraced  them, as well as Marge and Liz. I realized later that I'd only ever  seen her touch Marge and Liz a few times in my life. To my amazement,  she wrapped me in a brief hug as well.

"Thank you all so much for coming," she said. "I know it made London feel better to have you all here."

"Of course," my mom answered.

"She's a tough little girl," my dad pronounced.

"Visiting hours are almost over," Marge said. "So Liz and I are going to  take off. We'll let the three of you visit for a while."

"Us, too," my dad nodded. "We'll leave you alone."

I watched as they gathered their things and then followed them into the  hallway. Like Vivian, I hugged them all and thanked them for coming. In  their eyes, I could see the questions they wanted to ask but didn't.  Even if they had asked, I doubt that I would have had any answers.

Returning to the room, I saw that Vivian was perched beside London on  the bed. London was telling her about the car that backed out and how  the sunscreen had made her handlebars slippery.

"It must have been scary."

"It was very scary. But I don't remember after that."

"You were very brave."

"Yeah, I am." I had to smile at her matter-of-factness. Then: "I'm glad you're here, Mommy."

"I am too. I had to come because I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Vivian lay down next to London on the bed and slipped her arm around  her, both of them watching Scooby-Doo. I took a seat in the chair and  watched them, relieved, somehow, that Vivian had come. Not simply for  London's sake, but because a part of me still wanted to believe in  Vivian's goodness, despite all she'd done to me.

Observing the two of them, I did believe in that goodness-and I also  noted Vivian's forlorn expression, recognizing how hard it was for her  to be separated from London. I sensed her anguish at being so far away  when the accident had happened, despite how quickly she'd been able to  get here.

I could see London's eyelids drooping, and rising from the chair, I  crossed the room and turned out the light. Vivian offered me the  slightest of smiles, and I was struck by the melancholy thought that the  last time that the three of us had been alone together in a hospital  room, London was not yet a day old. On that day, I would have sworn on  my life that the three of us would always be united in the love we felt  for each other. We were a family then, the three of us together. But it  was different now and I sat in the darkness wondering if Vivian felt the  loss as deeply as I did.





Midmorning the next day, London was discharged from the hospital. I'd  already called the school and the piano teacher, explaining her absence  and canceling her lessons for the week. I also let London's teacher know  that she shouldn't be active at recess once she returned to school.  Thankfully, the nurses had given me some disinfectant wipes to clean the  backseat of the car, because I hadn't wanted London to see the bloody  mess.         

     



 

As I signed the discharge papers, I glanced over at Vivian, noticing how  tired she looked. Neither of us had slept much; throughout the night,  the nurses and doctor had come into the room to check on London, waking  all three of us in the process. London, I assumed, would sleep for most  of the day.

"I was wondering," Vivian said, sounding uncharacteristically tentative,  "if I could come back to the house for a while. So I can spend some  more time with London. Would you mind?"

"Not at all," I said. "I'm sure London would like that."

"I'm probably going to need a nap and a shower, too."

"That sounds fine," I said. "When do you have to go back?"

"I'm flying out tonight. Walter and I have to be in DC tomorrow. More lobbying."

"Always busy," I remarked.

"Too busy, sometimes."

I analyzed her comment on the drive home, wondering at the hint of  weariness in her tone. Was she just tired, or was the jet-set lifestyle  beginning to feel less exciting than it once had?

It was a mistake to try to read meaning into every word, tone, and  nuance, I told myself. What had Emily said to me? If it comes, let it  come. If it stays, let it stay. If it goes, let it go.

When we reached the house, I carried London inside. She'd already begun  to doze off, and I brought her straight up to her bedroom. Vivian  followed us up and after I got London tucked in bed, I watched as Vivian  went to the guest room. Though I'm sure she noticed that I'd rearranged  the furniture, she said nothing to me about it.

My car was too small to load my bike in the trunk, but I squeezed  London's bike into the back. Someone had leaned the bikes against the  mailbox. I drove London's bike home, put on my running gear, and ran  back to the same mailbox. It was while grabbing mine that I saw the  blood that had dried on the asphalt and my stomach did a flip-flop. I  rode my bike home, went for a run, and took a cooling shower. Both  London and Vivian were still sleeping, so I went back to the bedroom for  a nap. I drew the shades and slept like the dead.

When I awoke, I found Vivian and London watching a movie in the family  room. Though wearing the same clothes she'd arrived in, Vivian had  showered, the tips of her hair still wet, and London was curled up next  to her on the sofa. On the coffee table were the remains of London's  snack-turkey and pear slices-most of which she had eaten.

"How are you feeling, London?'

"Good," she said, without looking up.

"How did you sleep?" Vivian asked.

I was struck by how ordinary she sounded.

"Well. I needed it." I motioned to the plate. "I know London just had a  snack, but what are you thinking for dinner? Do you want me to make  something?"

"I think it might be easier if we just order something, don't you? Unless you're really in the mood to cook."

I wasn't. "Chinese?"

She squeezed London closer to her. "Do you want Chinese food for dinner?"

"Okay," London said, still absorbed in the movie. The bandage on her head, along with the splint on her arm, made me wince.

Though I wanted to visit with London-part of me wondered whether she was  angry with me for what had happened-I didn't want to do anything that  might upset the détente that seemed to currently exist between Vivian  and me. Instead, I went to the kitchen and ate a banana, then wandered  to the computer in the den, trying to lose myself in work but feeling  distinctly unfocused. In time, I called the Chinese restaurant and went  to pick up the food.