Nicholas Sparks - Two by Two

It ended up being the perfect kite for a child. I was able to launch it myself and once it rose high, it seemed as if it was practically stuck to the sky. It didn’t matter what I did; I could stand in place or walk around and when I handed London the kite reel and secured it to her wrist, it didn’t matter what she did either. She could pick flowers or run around chasing butterflies; a nice couple had a small cocker spaniel, and she was able to sit on the ground and let the puppy crawl over her while the kite stayed fixed in the air. When we finally got around to having lunch, I looped the string around a nearby bench, and the kite simply hovered above us.

Vivian was in a buoyant mood, and we stayed at the park for most of the afternoon. On the way home, I can remember thinking to myself that times like this were what life was really all about, and that no matter what, I’d never let my family down.

But here and now, I was doing exactly that. Or at least, right now, it felt that way. It felt to me as though I was letting everyone down, including myself.

It was Wednesday, day three for Vivian at work, and I was on my own with London.

All day.

As I stood with London outside chiropractor number two’s office, I felt almost as though I were shipping my daughter off to a foreign country. The thought that she’d sit in the waiting room with strangers made me uneasy; the newspapers and evening broadcasts had led modern parents to believe that the bogeyman was always lurking, ready to pounce.

I wondered if my parents ever worried about Marge and me like that, but that thought lasted only a split second. Of course they didn’t. My dad used to have me sit on the bench outside an old tavern he occasionally frequented while he had a beer with friends. And that bench was on a corner of a busy street, near a bus stop.

“You understand that this is an important meeting for Daddy, right?”

“I know,” London said.

“And I want you to sit quietly.”

“And don’t get up and wander around and don’t talk to strangers. You already told me.”

Vivian and I must have been doing something right because London did exactly as she was told. The receptionist remarked on what a well-behaved young lady she’d been during the meeting, which soothed my anxiety about what I’d done.

Unfortunately, the client wasn’t interested in my services. I was O-for-three at that point. At the restaurant the following day, I upped that to O-for-four .

Forcing myself to remain optimistic, I had my best presentation to date on Friday afternoon. The owner of the spa-a blond, quick-talking woman in her fifties-was enthusiastic and though my sense was that they were already doing well, she knew who I was and was even familiar with some of my other campaigns. As I spoke with her, I felt relaxed and confident, and when I finished, I had the sense that I couldn’t have done any better. But despite all that, the stars weren’t aligning for me.

Not only did I fail to set up any meetings for the following week, I’d gone O-for-five .

Still, it was date night.

When there’s nothing to celebrate, celebrate anyway, right?

That wasn’t quite true, though. While I hadn’t had any work success, Vivian certainly seemed to be lighting things on fire at her new job. She’d even been able to line up a musical act, a band from the eighties with a name I recognized. How she’d pulled that off, I had not the slightest idea. I’d also spent more one-on-one time with London, and that was definitely a great development.

Except… that it didn’t feel all that great. With the constant running around from one thing to the next, it almost felt as though I was working for London instead of enjoying time with London.

Was I alone in feeling that way? Did other parents feel like that?

I have no idea, but date night was date night, and while London was in dance class, I swung by the store and picked up salmon, steak, and a nice bottle of Chardonnay. Vivian’s SUV was in the driveway when I got home, and London jumped out of the car, calling for her mom. I followed with the plastic bag holding the goodies for dinner, only to see London zipping back down the steps. Vivian was nowhere in sight, but I heard her calling out from the bedroom.

London raced that way and I heard Vivian say, “There you are, sweetheart! How was your day?” I followed the sounds and spotted Vivian and London near the bed, upon which lay an open suitcase, already packed, along with two more empty department store bags.

Errands.

“Getting ready for tomorrow, I see.”

“Actually, I have to leave tonight.”

“You’re leaving?” London burst out before I could.

I watched as Vivian put her hand on London’s shoulder. “I don’t want to, but I have to. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” London said.

“I know, sweetie. But when I get home on Sunday, I’ll make it up to you. We’ll do something fun, just you and me.”

“Like what?” London asked.

“It’s up to you.”

“Maybe…” I watched as London’s mind sorted through the problem. “We can go to the blueberry farm? The one you took me to before? And pick blueberries and pet the animals?”

“That’s a great idea!” Vivian said. “Let’s do it.”

“And we also need to clean the hamster cage.”

“Your daddy will do that for you when I’m gone. But for now, let’s get you something to eat, okay? I think we have some leftover chicken and rice I can heat up. Can you wait for Mommy in the kitchen while I talk to Daddy for a minute?”

“Okay,” London answered.

“So,” I said, after London had left us alone, “you’re off tonight.”

“I have to head out in half an hour. Walter wants me and a couple of the other executives to do a walk-through with the manager of the Ritz-Carlton, to make sure it’s getting set up the way Walter expects.”

“The Ritz-Carlton?” I nodded. “Is that where you’re staying?”

She nodded. “I know you’re probably upset. Just so you know, I wasn’t thrilled with knowing I’d be gone two nights either. I’m just trying to make the best of it.”

“That’s all you can do,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Let me go spend a little time with London, okay? I think she’s upset.”

“Yeah,” I said, “okay.”

She stared at me. “You’re angry with me.”

“No, it’s not that. I just wish you didn’t have to go. I mean, I get it, but I was looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.”

“I know,” she said, “me, too.” She leaned in for a quick kiss. “We’ll make up for it next Friday, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can you zip my bag for me? I don’t want to wreck my nails. I just got them done.” She held up her hands for me. “Is the color okay?”

“It’s great,” I assured her. I secured the suitcase and pulled it from the bed. “You said you have a walk-through tonight at the hotel?”

“The whole thing has turned into a really big deal.”

“Atlanta’s four hours away.”

“I’m not driving. I’m flying.”

“What time’s your flight?”

“Six thirty.”

“Shouldn’t you already be on your way to the airport? Or at the airport right now?”

“We’re flying on Walter’s private jet.”

Walter. I was beginning to hate the sound of his name, almost as much as I hated the word errands .

“Wow,” I said. “You’re moving up in the world.”