Two by Two(83)

"For now, she wants to have her every other weekend. In the future, though, she's insisting on sole custody."

"That's not going to happen."

"Which is yet another reason to put your house up for sale. Even though  I've slashed my rates for you, fighting her is going to make this an  expensive proposition."





On the work front, at least, things were improving. In the weeks  following London's birthday party up until the end of the month, I  landed four out of the five legal firms as new clients. Though it meant I  was suddenly drowning in work-as were my tech guy and the camera  crew-my work with Taglieri had vastly shortened my learning curve.  Meanwhile, the plastic surgeon's campaign kicked off while Marge and Liz  were in Costa Rica, and he was thrilled with the results he was seeing.

As for London and me, we'd settled into a steady rhythm. The stitches in  her forehead came out and when a follow-up X-ray confirmed there were  no broken bones, the splint eventually came off, too. She wasn't ready  for her piano lessons yet, but she managed fine in art class. On our  next date night, I took her out to a fancy dinner at a place called  Fahrenheit, which offered glittering Charlotte city views and elegant  handwritten menus-the kind of place that Vivian would have loved.





As Halloween approached, I didn't see much of Emily.

For better or for worse, Vivian's comments had gotten to me. While I'd  tried to convince myself that our relationship was platonic, I knew it  was more than just a friendship. I was definitely attracted to her, and  in the evenings, I would find myself staring at the phone and wondering  if I was somehow damaging London by wanting to reach out to Emily.

Don't get me wrong. I still called Emily almost every night, unwilling  or unable to give up that comforting ritual. But in the back of my mind,  I could hear Vivian's voice, and I sometimes hung up feeling confused  and guilty. I knew I wasn't ready for a relationship, but was I acting  as if I were, by calling so frequently? And what did I really want in  the long run when it came to Emily? Could I be content to simply remain  friends? Would I be happy for her if she started dating someone else? Or  would I feel a twinge at the thought of what might have been, maybe  even succumb to jealousy?

Deep down, I knew the answer. Aside from Marge, I considered Emily to be  my closest friend …  and yet I hadn't told her what Vivian had said. Why  couldn't I be honest with her about the conflict roiling within me?  Perhaps a part of me felt that I'd been lying to Emily all along about  my intentions. I wanted more than friendship. Not now, but down the  road.         

     



 

And as selfish as it may seem, I didn't want to risk losing her before  that, which left me even more conflicted about what exactly I should do.





The day before Halloween, I made arrangements to check into a hotel.

Marge and Liz had arrived home from Costa Rica late Wednesday night, and  I didn't feel good about hitting them up for a place to stay. Nor did I  want to stay with my parents; though I knew they wouldn't have minded, I  didn't want them to know about my further deteriorating relationship  with Vivian. At London's birthday party, Vivian's cheerful façade had  led my mom to pull me aside and try to convince me that Vivian still had  feelings for me. That was a conversation I didn't want to face again.

Taglieri texted that Vivian would be arriving early on Friday night,  probably around seven, which meant there would be no date night with  London. Instead, London and I ate at home. Afterward, she ran up the  stairs to check on the hamsters and her fish while I started to clean  the kitchen.

I heard Vivian push through the door twenty minutes later.

"Hello!" she sang out. "I'm here!"

My heart started to race as if I'd been caught doing something I  shouldn't, simply by being in my own house. Meanwhile, Vivian breezed in  like she was the one who still lived here.

Vivian poked her head into the kitchen, looking for London.

"She's in her bedroom," I said. "She ran up there to check on her critters."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Did she eat?"

I thought you told your attorney that we weren't supposed to communicate  directly. But okay, I'll play along. "Yeah, she's had dinner. No bath  yet. I didn't know if you were going to take her to a movie or … "

"I haven't decided yet. I'll talk to her." She paused. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," I said, thrown once again by her casual demeanor. "I'm fine. You looking forward to trick-or-treating?"

"It'll be fun. I picked up an amazing costume for London. It's Belle from Beauty and the Beast, but extra glittery."

"She'll love that," I agreed. "She named one of her fish Belle."

"Make sure you come by in time to see it."

"You want me to come by?"

She rolled her eyes, but in them I saw only disbelief, not anger-as  though I were merely clueless, rather than hateful. "Of course, Russ.  She's your daughter. It's Halloween. And besides, you need to be here to  hand out candy for the kids who come by the house. What did you think  was going on tomorrow night?"

As usual, Vivian had managed to keep me guessing.





I hadn't seen Marge and Liz since London's birthday party, so I swung by  my parents' the next afternoon, before the trick-or-treating got  underway. I noticed right off that Marge had slimmed down even more. She  looked fantastic, but it was on the tip of my tongue to tell her not to  lose much more weight, as it might make her face look too severe. Liz,  too, looked like she'd shed some pounds, though not as much.

Marge and Liz enveloped me in hugs as soon as I stepped through the door.

"So this is what you look like after a vacation, huh?" I said to Marge, giving a low whistle.

"I know, pretty fab, huh? I weigh as much as I did in college now."

"You look great, too, Liz. Are you sure the two of you weren't secretly at Canyon Ranch the whole time?"

"Thank you. But no," she said. "It was all just good old-fashioned  hiking and sightseeing. And like Marge, I kept my servings of rice and  beans to a minimum."

"I'm jealous. I've stopped losing weight, even though I'm still running."

"How are things?" Marge asked. "When I talked to Mom last night, she  said you landed some new clients? Let's go out back and talk for a  while."

"All right. Let me say hi to Mom and Dad and I'll meet you outside in a few."

Visiting with my parents took fifteen minutes-Mom didn't bring up the  cancer, thank goodness-and I found my sister and Liz on the back patio,  both of them drinking tall glasses of sweet tea.

For the next hour, we talked about their trip-the zip-lines, Arenal  volcano, hikes through the cloud forest and near the coast-and I caught  them up on all that had been going on in my world. Just as that part of  the conversation was coming to a close, my mom popped her head out and  asked Liz if she'd mind giving her a hand in the kitchen.

"So …  you were told you had to communicate through attorneys, but then  she showed up at the house and acted as if everything were normal?"         

     



 

I nodded. "Don't ask me to explain it. I'm just thanking God for small favors."

"What I still don't understand is why Vivian got London for both her  birthday and on Halloween. You should get London for some of the fun  things, too."

"It's just the way the weekends are falling."

Marge didn't seem satisfied with this explanation, but apparently  decided to let it drop. "How do you feel about selling the house?"

"I guess I'm torn. We don't need a place that big-to be honest, we never  really did-but at the same time, there are a lot of memories there.  Anyway, I don't have much of a choice. Even though my business is  finally taking off, it's not like I'll have enough in the bank to pay  Vivian off when we sign the papers." I paused. "It's hard for me to  believe it's been almost two months since she walked out the door. In  some ways, it seems like yesterday. In other ways, it feels like  forever."

"I can't imagine," Marge said. She turned her head and covered her mouth, coughing from somewhere deep in her chest.

"You're still sick?"

"No," she answered. "This is just a remnant from the bronchitis.  Apparently it can take the lungs months to heal, even when the  inflammation is gone. I felt pretty good in Costa Rica, but right now, I  need a vacation from my vacation. Liz kept us on the go the whole  time-I'm still wiped out. And my knees are killing me from all the  hiking."

"Hiking is good exercise, but it's rough on the joints," I conceded.

"Speaking of which, let me know if you and Emily ever want to go hiking with Liz and me. It'll be like old times."

"I will," I said. At my answer, Marge tilted her head.

"Uh-oh. I'm sensing there's trouble in paradise. Is there anything you're not telling me?"