In the South, thunderstorms don't usually last very long. Typically, they would pass in thirty or forty minutes, and when the last rumble of thunder faded away we would reluctantly rise from our chairs and turn on the lights, going back to whatever it was we'd been doing before.
Hurricanes were a different story, however. My ever-cautious dad always boarded up the big picture window, so we couldn't watch the full extent of the spectacle. But I remained fascinated by the apocalyptic winds and torrential rain... and especially the approach of the eye--that surreal moment when the winds abated entirely and it was sometimes even possible to see blue skies overhead. But the calm is only temporary, for the back half of the hurricane still lies in wait and with it, sometimes even greater destruction.
Which, I wonder, is more analogous to life? Or, rather, to my life that terrible year? Was it a series of violent storms, bursting in quick succession? Or was it a single massive hurricane, with an eye that lulled me into believing I'd survived intact, when, in fact, the worst was yet to come?
I don't know.
All I know for certain is that I hope never to experience another year like it, for as long as I live.
London loved her birthday party. The bouncy castle was a hit, she clapped with delight when she saw the cake, and she had fun playing with her friends, especially Bodhi. Emily brought him by, but didn't stay, claiming that she needed to meet with the gallery owner to finalize some things for her upcoming show. Another one of the kids' parents had already promised to bring Bodhi home. She apologized for not sticking around, but I think we were both eager to avoid any awkwardness with Vivian.
Earlier that morning, while Vivian was ferrying London around--she'd driven the SUV from Atlanta--I made a trip to the pet store and set up the aquarium in her room; I chose several colorful fish, and stuck a bow on the glass. When Vivian and London returned from art class, I had London close her eyes as I led her to the threshold of her room. She squealed when she opened them and catapulted across the room toward the aquarium.
"Can I feed them?"
"Of course," I said. "I'm sure they're hungry. Let me show you how much food to give them, okay?"
I tapped some food into the lid of the plastic container and handed it to her. She poured it into the fish tank, mesmerized as the fish raced to the surface and started devouring the food. When I glanced over my shoulder at Vivian, I saw that she had her arms crossed, her mouth a tight crease.
At the party, however, Vivian was all smiles with everyone, including me and my entire family. She asked my mom to pitch in when she cut the cake, and when London opened a box filled with Barbie accessories from Marge and Liz, she urged London to go over and give them a hug, which London did.
Marge leaned in afterward, muttering under her breath. "She's acting as though nothing has changed between the two of you at all," which upon reflection made me even more nervous than Vivian's earlier, chilly demeanor.
After the party, Vivian took London to the mall; with Halloween coming up, she took it upon herself to help London choose a costume. I used that time to clean up the house, filling garbage bags with paper plates and cups, and wrapping a tray of leftovers to put in the fridge. With that completed, I decided it might be best to make myself scarce for the rest of the evening, and left for my office.
I worked into the evening, focusing on the presentations for the law firms that had contacted me. As London's bedtime approached, I texted Vivian, asking if it was time to read to London, only to receive a terse response a while later that London was already asleep.
I stayed late at the office that night, but rose early on Sunday to go for a run and shower. I was having breakfast and coffee when I heard Vivian moving around in the guest room upstairs. Though I lingered in the kitchen, wondering if she might want to talk about how well the party had gone, she never made an appearance.
I returned to the office to finish the presentations--they were all fairly similar--aware that the truce between Vivian and me had ended, but unclear as to the reason. Was she was jealous that London had loved the aquarium--something I'd selected without Vivian's input? But then Vivian had been cool toward me for nearly a week, I reasoned.
I texted Vivian as soon as I got to the office, asking what time she planned to leave. She didn't respond until nearly five, informing me that she'd be leaving in half an hour and forcing me to scramble to get home in time.
When I arrived, London came running and jumped in my arms.
"I fed my fish, Daddy! And they were so hungry! And I let Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles see them, too. I held them right next to the glass."
"Have you given them names yet?"
She nodded. "They're all so pretty, so I knew what their names should be. Let me show you."
She pulled me up the steps to her room and pointed out the various fish, reciting their names: Cinderella, Jasmine, Ariel, Belle, Mulan, and Dory "because that's who they remind me of."
Downstairs, Vivian was already waiting by the door. She hugged and kissed London goodbye. Then she half turned in my direction, uttered a perfunctory "Bye," without making eye contact, and walked out the door.
I should have simply let her go. Instead, after a beat, I followed her out. By then, she was already opening the door to the SUV.
"Vivian? Hold up."
She turned, her expression stony as I approached.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Russ," she answered, sounding anything but.
"You seem angry."
"Are you seriously asking me this?" Vivian whipped off her sunglasses. "Of course I'm angry. And disappointed."
"Why? What did I do?"
"Do you really want to get into this now?" She glared at me over the open car door.
"I just want to know what's going on..."
She closed her eyes, as though steeling herself, and when they opened again, I could see rage flaring behind them.
"Why are you dragging London along when you go out with your girlfriend?"
Her question caught me so off guard it took me a second to comprehend what she was talking about. "You mean Emily?"
"Of course I mean Emily!"
"She's not my girlfriend," I sputtered. "London and Bodhi are friends."
"So the two of you take them to the zoo? And the aquarium? Like some kind of double date?" she spat out. "Do you know how confusing that is for her? Why would you do such a thing?"
"I'm not trying to confuse her..."
"Do you know what London did yesterday? When we went to art class? She ran up and hugged Emily. In front of everyone!"
"London hugs everyone..."
"SHE HUGGED HER!" Vivian shouted. Her cheeks flushed. "I thought you were smarter than that! I thought you were better than that! You don't see me insisting that London hang out with Walter and me, do you? I haven't even told London about Walter. She doesn't even know he exists! I haven't even told her that we're getting divorced!"
"Vivian--"
"Don't!" she snapped. "I don't want to hear you try to justify why the four of you have been gallivanting around town like you're a family now. You sure didn't wait long, did you?"
"Emily's just a friend," I protested.
"Are you honestly going to stand here and try to convince me that you see Emily just because London and Bodhi are friends?" she said, sneering. "Tell me this: Are you hanging out with the parents of London's other friends, too?"
"No, but--"
"And you don't think about her? You don't call her? You're not turning to her for support?"
I couldn't deny it and my expression must have given me away.
"I've been trying my best to keep London out of this," she went on. "While you... You don't seem to have given any thought as to what might be best for London. Or what she might be thinking or feeling. You're just thinking about yourself and what you want--same old story. You haven't changed at all, have you, Russ?"
With that, Vivian got into the SUV and slammed the door. She backed out and roared
away while I stood there, frozen and reeling inside.
I couldn't sleep that night.
Was Vivian right? Had I only been thinking about myself? I replayed all the times I'd seen Emily; I retraced the steps that had led us to the zoo and the aquarium. And I asked myself, if London had a different best friend, would I have visited those places with that friend's parents?
In my heart, I knew the answer was no, which made me wonder how much I'd been lying to myself.
I felt the repercussions of Vivian's anger a few days later, while sitting in Taglieri's office. He'd called me because he had an update on the divorce negotiations.
"I was finally able to spend time on the phone with Vivian's attorney," he said, "going through the proposed agreement section by section." He sighed. "I don't know what's going on between you and Vivian, but I was anticipating a little give-and-take, as is the norm in these kinds of negotiations. What I didn't expect was for her to escalate her demands."
"She wants more?" I felt a numbness spreading through me at his words.
"Yup."
"Of what?"
"Everything. More alimony. More money when it comes to dividing joint property."
"How much exactly?'
When he told me I blanched. "What if I don't have it?"
"Well, for starters... I'd put the house up for sale."
While I'd been dreading Vivian's next move, I felt as if I'd been sucker-punched.
"She also said to tell you that Vivian will be here for Halloween weekend, and that she would prefer if you didn't stay in the house this time."
"Why didn't Vivian just tell me that herself?"
"Because Vivian has decided that henceforth, she wants all communications to go through the attorneys. She doesn't want to speak with you directly."
"Anything else?" I said, in a daze.
"She also wants to bring London to Atlanta the weekend of November thirteenth."
"And if I say no?"
"She'll probably go straight to the court. And Russ..." Taglieri eyed me seriously. "This isn't something worth fighting about, because you won't win. Unless she's an unfit mother, she has the right to see her daughter."
"I wouldn't have fought it. I'm just... blown away."
"Do you want to talk about what it is that set her off?"
"Not really," I said. What was the point? "What's she saying about London?"
"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 facade 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 fa
b, 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."