Page 40 of Two by Two

The Phoenix Agency was officially on its way.

"What are you going to do with all that extra money you'll be making?" Marge said to me over lunch. It was Friday afternoon, and I'd decided to work only a half day as a reward. "Because you happen to have a sister who's in the mood for a new car."

"Wouldn't that be nice?"

"I always knew you'd make it."

"I haven't made it yet," I cautioned. "I still have to make the presentations."

"You're good at that part. You just weren't so good at getting the phone to ring."

I smiled, still on a high. "I'm so excited. And relieved."

"I can only imagine."

"How are you feeling?"

She made a face. "A little better. I'm not coughing too much during the day now, but the nights are still pretty rough. I finally convinced my idiot doctor to prescribe some antibiotics, but I just started taking them yesterday. He said I might not feel any better until Monday."

"That's a bummer."

"It's bad for Liz, too. I kept waking her up, so I've started sleeping in the guest room."

"So Mom's chicken soup didn't work?"

"No. But it tasted good." She pushed her sandwich away. "What are your plans this weekend? Vivian's not coming, is she?"

"She'll be here next weekend. For London's birthday. And I can't imagine London not wanting Bodhi to be there, which means that Emily will probably make an appearance at the party as well."

"And me," Marge said, grinning. "I can't wait to watch."

"Nothing's going to happen. She's been on good behavior lately."

"Hmmm... let's see how long that lasts," Marge said with a skeptical look. "By the way, are you going to Mom and Dad's tomorrow? Liz and I are planning to swing by for a little while, especially since we weren't there last weekend. Since I had the plague, I mean."

"Thank God you haven't given it to Liz," I remarked.

"Yes, especially since she's getting crushed at work. One of the other therapists in her practice group has been on maternity leave since late July."

"Speaking of maternity, when do you and Liz meet with the fertility doctor? Didn't you say sometime in November?"

She nodded. "On the twentieth. The Friday before Thanksgiving."

"What happens if you're both able to have kids? Would you both get pregnant?"

"I'd have the child. I always thought it would be fun to be pregnant."

"Tell me if you're still feeling that way around the eight-month mark. By the time London was born, Vivian was thoroughly sick of being pregnant."

"That's Vivian, and she was younger. I know this will be the only time for me, and I'd make sure to enjoy every minute of it."

"Having a child is going to change your life. It's changed mine, that's for sure."

She looked almost wistful. "I can't wait."

When I picked London up from school, the first thing she asked when she got in the car was whether we were going to have date night again.

"Since it's Friday and Mommy's not here?"

Why not? "That sounds like a terrific idea."

"What should we do?" London asked, already buzzing with anticipation.

"Hmmm," I said. "We could have dinner at home or go out. Or we could go to the real aquarium."

"The aquarium! Can we really go there?"

"Of course. I'm pretty sure it's open until eight o'clock."

"Can we ask Bodhi if he wants to come?"

"You want to bring Bodhi on our date night?"

"Yes. And I can wear my butterfly wings. The ones I got at the zoo. And he can wear his wings, too."

"To the aquarium?"

"For the fish," she said.

I wasn't sure I understood the correlation, but if it made her happy, that was fine with me.

"I can call, but Bodhi might be busy tonight. It's kind of last minute."

"We should try. And Miss Emily can come, too."

I waited until we got home before calling Emily. When I asked about the aquarium, she told me to hold on and then called out to Bodhi.

"Do you want to go to the aquarium tonight? London is going!"

"Yes!" I heard Bodhi shout, before Emily came back on the line.

"I take it you heard him."

"I did," I said.

"What time are you thinking?"

"How about I pick you up in an hour?"

She hesitated. "How about I pick you up? DVDs for the kids, remember? I know it's not that far, but we'll be dealing with rush-hour traffic. Are you okay with doing the driving again?"

"Sure," I agreed.

"Text me the address. And let me start getting the two of us ready. See you in a bit."

"Oh," I said, "London wants Bodhi to wear the wings he got at the zoo."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

She laughed. "It's fine with me. And way better than having him run around with a light saber."

As was becoming her habit, London took a while to get ready for date night. Ultimately she picked a white skirt with lace, a long-sleeved pink top, pink sneakers, and, of course, the butterfly wings.

I'd opted for a more casual outfit: dark pants, dark shirt, and comfortable shoes.

"That's an eye-catching outfit," I said. "You definitely look ready to see the fish."

"I want to get some ideas for my aquarium," she said.

For her birthday, I thought. At least she was making it easy for me, even if I'd end up cleaning the thing.

"Do you want to pick a movie? We'll be riding with Miss Emily again."

"I think we should watch Finding Nemo."

"Sounds like a good choice to me."

She found the case and brought it to me. As she was handing it over, I received another message from Taglieri. Calls still coming in like crazy. You're the man!

What a great week this was turning out to be. What I didn't know was that it was going to get a whole lot better.

Sea Life aquarium was located in Concord, about fifteen miles north of Charlotte, but the traffic meant it took nearly forty minutes to get there.

Not that any of us minded. I caught Emily up on my recent work triumphs, hinted at Marge and Liz's plans to start a family, and talked about my parents. She shared the latest updates on her family and her paintings for the show. Again, by unspoken agreement, we didn't mention Vivian, David, or our shared past.

At the aquarium, the kids raced from one exhibit to the next, just as they'd done at the zoo. Emily and I trailed behind, keeping an eye on them. As we followed, I couldn't help noticing the glances that Emily drew from other men. Most of them were with their own families and were circumspect--I'm not sure Emily noticed at all--but I found myself attuned to the way people reacted to her in a way I hadn't before.

We finished our tour of the aquarium, the biggest hits for the kids being the sharks, sea turtles, sea horses, and the octopus. Just as we were stepping out the door onto the promenade, I heard music drifting out of an open door marked as an employee entrance.

The song that was on came to an end, and a radio DJ came on the air, announcing the song coming up: JD Eicher's "Two by Two." I paused.

"Did you hear that, London? There's a song called 'Two by Two.' Just like your favorite book."

"Is it about animals?"

"I don't know," I said. The DJ was still talking and I turned to Emily. "She was supposed to have her recital tonight. She wanted to be the butterfly."

"Right now, I am a butterfly," London announced, letting her wings catch the evening breeze.

"Well, since it's date night, would you like to dance with me?"

"Yes!"

A moment later, the song started, and I took London's hands. By that time, the sun was low in the sky, twilight turning the world sepia colored. Aside from Emily and Bodhi, we had the promenade to ourselves.

I found the lyrics strangely affecting as I danced with my daughter. She swayed and bounced and held my hands, revealing flashes of the young woman she

would become, and the innocent girl she still was.

It was, I realized, the first dance I'd ever shared with my daughter, and I didn't know when or if it would happen again. I couldn't imagine dancing with her in a few years--by then, the idea would probably embarrass her--so I lived in the moment and gave myself over to the dance, thankful for yet another wonder at the end of an already unforgettable week.

"That was the most touching thing I've ever seen," Emily said to me as we walked to the car. "I took some photos with my phone. I'll text them to you later."

"It was pretty special," I agreed, still drifting on the melody of the song. "I'm just glad Bodhi didn't try to cut in."

"That wouldn't happen. I asked him to dance, but he said no. Then, he told me he found a snail and he wanted me to pick it up."

"Little boys and little girls are certainly different, aren't they?"

"You get sugar and spice and everything nice," she said, referring to the nursery rhyme. "Meanwhile, I get the snail."

"No puppy-dog tails, though."

"That's only because he couldn't find one."

I laughed. "I'll bet the kids are starving."

"I'm starving, too."

"The real question is whether we let them pick where we eat, or whether we get to pick."

"Just a warning that if we don't find something quickly, Bodhi might start getting cranky. And once that happens, you don't want to be anywhere in the vicinity."

"So... Chick-fil-A?"

"Bingo," she said.

Needless to say, the kids were thrilled.

London was still wired when we finally got home, but her energy level started to crash by the time she was in her pajamas. I called Vivian and let London FaceTime with her for a few minutes; afterward, I decided to read Two by Two. As I finished, I remembered that Emily had promised to text the photographs of the two of us dancing. Pulling out my phone, I saw that she had, and quickly scrolled through them with London.

"Don't we look good?"

London took the phone from me and stared at the photos.

"You can't see my face because my hair is in the way."

"That's because you were looking at my feet," I said. "That's okay. I was looking at my feet, too."

She continued to scrutinize the images. As she did, I remembered the photos I'd removed from the house and made a mental note to print one of these and have it framed.

London handed the phone back to me.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?"

"There's art class, of course. And after that, we're going to see Nana and Papa. Is there anything else you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"You could help me clean the hamster cage."

"No thanks. It's kind of icky."

Right. Smelly, too, I thought. "Let's see what you're in the mood to do when you wake up tomorrow," I said, tucking the covers around her.

I kissed her goodnight and went back downstairs. I turned on the TV, but the photos that Emily had taken seemed to call to me. I pulled out my phone again and lingered over the images with a smile on my face, more grateful than ever to be the father to such an amazing little girl.

Emily waved as soon as I walked into art class with London the following morning. London ran over to hug her, then went to chase down Bodhi.

"That was fun last night," she said. "I think we're a good team when it comes to keeping the kids entertained."

"Agreed," I said, reflecting that I'd been happily entertained as well. "And thanks for the photos--I'm probably going to get one or two framed. Even with just an iPhone, you clearly have an artist's eye."

"Maybe... or maybe I just sent you the best of the hundred or so I shot," she said with a mischievous smile.

She jerked a thumb in the direction of the strip mall. "You want to grab a cup of coffee while the kids are occupied?"

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," I said, holding open the door for her. And I meant it.

"It's the cancer," my mom insisted. "I just know he has the cancer."

Standing in the kitchen, my mom was reprising her usual worries in particularly urgent tones. We'd barely walked in the door after art class when she pulled me aside for a hushed conference.

"Was he having trouble breathing again?"

"No," she said. "But I had the dream about the hospital again last night. Only this time, there was no purple pig. And this time, the doctor was a woman. She was talking about the cancer."

"Did you ever think it might just be a dream?"

"Do you have the same dreams twice?"

"I have no idea. I don't remember most of my dreams. But I wouldn't read too much into it unless you've actually noticed something amiss with Dad."

She looked at me with a mournful expression. "The cancer sometimes doesn't show many symptoms until it's too late."

"So you're saying that because he feels fine, he might be sick?"

She crossed her arms. "Explain to me why I dreamed it twice."

I sighed. "Do you want me to talk to Dad again?"

"No," she said. "But I do want you to keep an eye on him. And if you see something, I'll need your help getting him to the doctor."

"I'm not sure I'd even know what to look for," I protested.

"You'll know it when you see it."

"Did Mom waylay you about the cancer?" Marge asked, pouring herself a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher on the table.

I'd just joined her and Liz on the back porch, after sending London off to help my mom in the kitchen. As usual my dad was in the garage, probably lifting an engine out with his bare hands.

"Oh yeah," I said, holding out a glass of my own for Marge to fill. "It's been a few months since she last brought it up, so I guess I should have expected it." I rubbed a hand over my face. "I hope I never get like that."

"Like what?"

"Living in fear all the time."

"She has good reason," Marge said. "The cancer knocked off her entire side of the family. Don't you ever worry about it?"

"I don't think I've ever had time to worry about it."

"I think about it," Marge said. "I don't worry, but it does cross my mind from time to time. But I have the sense that if Dad ever starts to develop cancer, the healthy cells will strut over, tap the bad cells on their shoulders, and then proceed to beat the crap out of them." The afternoon sun played across Marge's amused expression, throwing her cheekbones into sharp relief.

"Hey, you're looking good, by the way," I remarked. "You've lost some weight."

"Thanks for finally noticing," said, preening a little bit. "You didn't say anything yesterday."

"I'm paying attention now. Are you on a diet?"

"Of course. I'm going on vacation--meaning, I'll be hitting the beach, and a gal's got to look her best. Besides, with all that running, you were starting to look better than me and I just couldn't have that."

I rolled my eyes and turned to Liz. "And how are you doing, Liz? Marge said you're drowning at work."

"Yeah, I've been covering for another therapist who's been on leave. Lately I spend most of my free time fantasizing about our getaway to Costa Rica. I've even been trying out some Latin American recipes, but Marge won't eat any of it because of the carbs. I keep reminding her that people in Costa Rica aren't as overweight as they are here in US, but to no avail."

"I know my body," Marge countered. "And it helped that I was sick, since my appetite was nonexistent. On a more interesting note, though, did you see the fair Emily today? At art class?"

I pointedly turned to Liz. "Do you know what I like about you?"

"What's that?"

"You don't seem to feel the need to pry into my personal life every time we talk."

"She doesn't have to pry," Marge said. "As a general rule, you blurt out everything you're thinking or feeling without prompting."

Marge probably had a point, but still. I sighed. "I not only saw her today, but we also went to the aquarium last night. With the kids. We're

friends, that's all."

"And you probably haven't even noticed how pretty she is, either."

Liz laughed. "Whatever the reason, I'm happy for you, Russ. You seem to be in a much better place these days."

"I am," I said, surprising myself. "I really am."

After Vivian FaceTimed with London, I asked her to call me back to discuss London's upcoming birthday party. When she did, her tone was markedly icier than it had been over the previous weekend.

"I've already made all the arrangements," she said. "I've rented one of those bouncy houses to set up in the backyard, I've set up the catering and I've ordered a Barbie birthday cake. I sent out email invitations as well."

"Uh, okay...," I said, caught off guard by her chilly demeanor. "Can you tell me what time the party is going to start?"

"Two."

Nothing else. She seemed to be trying to make me feel purposely uncomfortable.

"All right," I said slowly. "I assume you sent my parents and Marge and Liz an Evite, but I'll confirm with them just in case." When she didn't answer, I went on. "And you're still planning to stay in the guest room, right?"

"Yes, Russ. I'm staying in the guest room. We've already talked about this."

"Just making sure," I said before she abruptly ended the call.

I let out a long, slow breath. Despite the truce of the previous weekend, it seemed that all bets were off again.

CHAPTER 22

The Eye of the Storm

As a kid, I always loved thunderstorms.

Marge thought I was a kook, but when thunderstorms approached, I would feel an electric sense of anticipation, akin to what my dad felt before the World Series. I would insist on turning out all the lights and would move the armchairs closer to the big picture window in the living room. Sometimes, I would even toss a bag of popcorn into the microwave, and, together, Marge and I would snack while we watched the "show."

In the darkness, we would sit riveted as lightning split the sky in two or flickered in the clouds like strobe lights. During the best storms, the strikes would be close enough for us to feel the static electricity, and I would notice Marge gripping the armrest of her chair. Always, though, we would count how many seconds passed between a flash of lighting and the thunder, tracking the progress of the storm as the center drew near.

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