Two by Two(77)

I cut a piece with my fork and took a bite.

"Wow," I said. "This is very tasty. You did a fantastic job."

"Thank you," she said. "Don't forget to drink your milk."

"I won't," I said. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a glass of milk. It tasted better than I remembered.

"This is amazing," I said. "I can't believe how big you're getting."

"I'm almost six."

"I know. Do you know what you want for your birthday?"

She thought about it. "Maybe an aquarium," she said. "And lots of pretty fish. Or maybe a poodle like Noodle."

Maybe, I thought to myself, spending the day at the pet store hadn't been such a good idea.





After London had gone to bed, I gave Emily a call.

I caught her while she was lying in bed, and as always, we drifted into  an easy conversation that was a mixture of reminiscing about our earlier  years, and discussing details of our current lives. The call lasted for  nearly forty minutes, and when I hung up the phone, I realized that  talking to Emily was not only becoming part of my routine, but one of  the brightest spots of my days.





On Friday afternoon, Vivian texted that she would be arriving between nine and ten, which was well past London's normal bedtime.

After receiving the text at work, I took a moment to wonder what, if  anything, would be expected of me when she arrived, since London might  not be awake. Would Vivian finally want to talk? Watch TV in the family  room with or without me? Or would she head straight to the guest room?  And what was I going to do all weekend?

I tried to repeat Emily's Zen mantra, but it didn't help. Part of me, I  knew, was still trying to figure out how to please Vivian.         

     



 

Old habits die hard.





With dance class off the schedule, I opted for another date night with  London, with the idea of keeping her awake until Vivian arrived. I  thought bringing her to dinner and a movie would be fun, and I was able  to find a kids' movie that would end in time to have us home by nine.  After that, London could hop in the bath and put on her pajamas, and  with any sort of luck, Vivian would arrive right around then.

I revealed my plans to London when I picked her up from school, and as  soon as we got home, she raced up the steps to start getting ready.

"You have plenty of time," I called after her. "We don't have to leave until five thirty."

"I want to start now!" she called back.

She was fully dressed by four and found me in the den, working on the  computer, finalizing the still shots I planned to intercut in the dog  commercial.

She'd chosen a white blouse, white skirt, and white shoes and stockings, her hair held back with a white headband.

"You look very beautiful," I said, mentally crossing off all Italian  restaurants from the list of possible dinner destinations. A single slip  and her outfit would be massacred.

"Thank you," she said. "But I don't like the Band-Aid on my forehead. Or my splint."

"I didn't even notice them," I said. "I'm sure you'll be the prettiest girl in the whole restaurant."

She beamed. "When are we going to leave?"

"We still have an hour and a half."

"Okay," she said. "I can go sit in the family room until we're ready."

"You could play with your Barbies," I suggested.

"I don't want to get my dress wrinkled."

Of course.

"What would you like to do?"

"I don't know. But I don't want to get dirty."

I thought about it. "Would you like to play Hoot Owl Hoot! again?"

She clapped her hands. "Yes!"

We played for an hour before I went to change. Like the last time, I  donned slacks and a blazer, along with a stylish new pair of loafers.  London was waiting for me in the foyer, and, trying to add a bit of  ceremony to the occasion, I bowed before opening the door for her.

We had dinner at an upscale steakhouse and after a couple of minutes of  adult-like conversation, London slipped back into little girl mode. We  talked about Bodhi and her teacher and school and about the kind of fish  she wanted in the aquarium.

Afterward, we went to the movie, which left London energized-perhaps it  was the Raisinets-and eager to see her mom. Hurrying upstairs when we  got back home, she quickly bathed and slipped into her pajamas.

Vivian arrived at the house not long after I'd begun to read. London  jumped from the bed and ran down the stairs. I followed, watching as  London threw herself into her mother's arms, Vivian's eyes closing in  contented delight.

"I'm so glad I got to see you before you went to sleep," Vivian said.

"Me, too. Daddy and me went on a date. We had dinner and we saw a movie and we talked about my aquarium!"

"Aquarium?"

"For her birthday," I said. "How are you?"

"Good. That's a long drive, especially when it starts at rush hour."

I nodded, feeling strangely out of place. I motioned upstairs. "I've already read to her if you want to go up."

She faced London again. "Do you want Mommy to read you a few stories?"

"Yes!" London cried. I watched as the two of them climbed the stairs.  And though I was in my house with my wife and daughter, I suddenly felt  very much alone.





I retreated to the master bedroom. I didn't want to talk to Vivian, nor  did I think she wanted that either. Instead, I read in bed and tried not  to think about the fact that Vivian would be spending the night under  the same roof.

I fantasized briefly about her sneaking into my bedroom and wondered  what I would do. Would I acquiesce with the excuse that we were still  married? Or even as a last hurrah? Or would I have the resolve that  Emily showed when David had made a pass at her?

I wanted to think I'd be more like Emily, but I wasn't sure I was as  strong as she'd been. Nonetheless, I had a feeling that neither of us  would be happy afterward. I was no longer a part of her future, and it  would only reinforce the hold that Vivian still had over me, despite all  she'd done. Moreover, I suspected that I'd feel guilty. Because as I  imagined making love to Vivian again, I realized with sudden clarity  that what I wanted even more than that was for it to be Emily instead.





In the morning, I rose early and went for a long run. I showered, made  myself breakfast and was on my second cup of coffee when Vivian found me  in the kitchen. She was in long pajamas, a set I'd bought her for her  birthday a couple of years back. She went to the cupboard and pulled out  a teabag, then added water to the teakettle on the stove.         

     



 

"Sleep well?" I asked.

"I did. Thanks. The mattress in the guest room is better than I remembered. But I might just be tired."

"Have you decided what you want to do with London today? After art class, I mean?"

"I don't want to do anything too demanding. She should still take it  easy. We could go to Discovery Place, but I want to see what London  wants to do."

"I'm going to the office," I informed her. "I want to get as much done  for the plastic surgeon as I can, especially since he dropped everything  to help London."

"Tell him thank you from me. He did a very good job. I peeked at it last night."

The teakettle whistled and she added hot water to her cup. She seemed to  debate whether or not to join me at the table before finally taking a  seat.

"There's something I need to tell you," I said. "About dance."

"What about dance?" Vivian took a tentative sip from her steaming cup.

I recapped everything for her, trying to keep it as succinct as  possible, including the fact that London wasn't going to be allowed to  dance at the recital.

"Huh," Vivian said. "And you told her that London was in the hospital?"

"I told her. It didn't matter. And then London told me straight up that  she doesn't want to go anymore. She doesn't think Ms. Hamshaw likes  her."

"If she doesn't want to go, then don't make her go. It's just dance."

Vivian gave an elaborate shrug. She spoke without the slightest  acknowledgment of her previous insistence that London attend in the  first place. There was no reason to bring it up, but it made me wonder  whether I'd ever be able to understand what made Vivian tick. And  whether I'd ever really understood her at all.





London came downstairs while we were still in the kitchen. She wandered over to the table, still dopey with sleep.

"Hi Mommy and Daddy," she said, giving both of us hugs.

"What can I get you for breakfast?" Vivian asked.

"Lucky Charms."

"Okay, sweetie," Vivian said. "I'll get it for you."

I folded my newspaper and stood, trying to mask my amazement at how  easily Vivian had acquiesced to London's request for a sugary cereal.

"Have fun today, ladies," I said.





I spent nearly the entire day on the computer, finalizing everything I  could do for the tech aspect of the plastic surgeon's ad campaign, aside  from the posting of the patient videos to the website. I forwarded the  information to my tech guy and also emailed reminders to the patients  about filming on Tuesday.