Nicholas Sparks - Two by Two

I laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“That’s because I, unlike you, exercise. Of course, my cough isn’t making it easier, but I force myself to go to the gym.”

“You’re still coughing?”

“Too much. Supposedly, even after the cold is better, your lungs can take six weeks to heal.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I. But the point is, unlike you, I’m still dedicated to my health.”

“I don’t have time to work out.”

“Of course you have time. You can go first thing in the morning. That’s when all the moms do it.”

“I’m not a mom.”

“I hate to break it to you but lately? You kind of are.”

“You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better.”

“I call ’em like I see ’em. And you and I both know a little exercise wouldn’t hurt you. You’re looking a little soft these days.”

“I’m in shape.”

“Of course you are. If round is a shape, I mean.”

“You’re a real peach, you know that?”

On Friday morning, I stood in front of the mirror, thinking that maybe Marge had a point about starting to exercise again. But not, unfortunately, today.

I had things to do, and while I watched London and brought her to art class, I spent the rest of my time putting together a time line for Taglieri’s campaign, with the thought that day care was most likely off the table.

Much of it I could do from home; getting the permits, scouting locations, and getting appropriate releases meant time in and out of the car and lots of driving. As long as I spread it out over a period of days, I didn’t think London would be too bothered by it at all.

When I’d spoken to Vivian, I’d said as much to her. I could hear the relief in her voice and for the first time in years, we spent more than half an hour on the phone simply talking. I’d missed that, and I had the sense that she’d missed it, too, and even though she ended up arriving home a little later than she’d wanted, she laughed and smiled, even flirted with me, and in the bedroom, she was both sexy and passionate, something I’d been craving, something that left me certain that she still cared for me.

In the morning, her good mood persisted. Before she left for yoga, she made breakfast for London and me, and asked if we were planning to visit my parents.

“If you are, can you wait for me? I’d like to come.”

When I assured her we would, she kissed me goodbye and I felt the light flicker of her tongue against my lips. In the ensuing glow-and with my mind flashing back to the night before-I had no doubts as to the reasons I’d married her in the first place.

While we waited for Vivian to return, London and I went to the park, where we followed a nature trail that led to the golf course. Years ago, an Eagle Scout fulfilling his service project had mounted small plaques near various trees listing both their common and scientific names. At each of them, I read the information to London and would point out the bark or the leaves, pretending I knew far more than I did. She would repeat the words- Quercus virginiana or Eucalyptus viminalis -and even though I knew I’d forget pretty much everything by the time I returned to the car, while on the trail I felt a little smarter than usual.

But London stayed smart. Back home, I made sandwiches and while we were eating on the back porch, she pointed to a massive tree in the backyard. “That’s a Carya ovata !” she exclaimed.

“That one?” I asked, not bothering to hide my amazement.

She nodded. “Shagbark hickory.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you showed me,” she said, gazing up at me. “Remember?”

Not even slightly, I thought. To me, it had reverted to being a tree. “I think you’re right.”

“I am right.”

“I trust you.”

She took a drink of milk. “When’s Mommy getting home?”

I checked my watch. “Pretty soon.”

“And then we’re going to Nana and Papa’s?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I want to bake today. Cupcakes again.”

“I’m sure Nana will love that.”

“Will Auntie Marge and Auntie Liz be there?”

“I hope so.”

“Okay. I’d better bring Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles. I’m sure they’ll want to say hi.”

“I’m sure.”

She chewed her sandwich. “Hey Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad I get to stay with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mommy told me that I’m not going to day care. She said you could work and take care of me at the same time.”

“She did?”

She nodded. “She told me this morning.”

“She’s right, but you might have to be in the car with me while I get my stuff done.”

“Can I bring my Barbies? Or Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Okay. It’ll still be fun then.”

I smiled. “I’m glad.”

“When you were little, did you go to day care?”

“No. Auntie Marge watched me.”

“And Auntie Liz?”

“No. Auntie Liz wasn’t around yet.”

“Oh,” she said. She took another couple of bites of her sandwich, her head turning from side to side as if taking in the world one sense at a time. I watched her, thinking about how beautiful she was, not caring whether I was biased at all.

“Daddy! There’s a giant bird in the tree!” she cried. When she pointed, I spotted the bird. It was chocolate brown with white head feathers glowing in the sunlight. As I stared, it spread its wings before tucking them back in.

“That’s a bald eagle,” I told her in amazement. In all the years I’d lived in Charlotte, I’d only seen one twice. I was struck by a sense of wonder, a recurring theme during our weeks together. Staring at my daughter, I suddenly understood how much had changed between London and me. Because I’d become comfortable in my role as the primary caregiver, London had become more comfortable with me, and all at once, the thought of being separated from her for hours on end once school began made my heart ache in a way I hadn’t expected. That I loved London had never been in question; what I now understood was that I liked her, too, not only as my daughter, but as the young girl I’d only recently come to know.

It might have been that thought, or maybe it had something to do with how the week had gone, but whatever the reason, I felt unusually tranquil, almost entirely at peace. I’d been down and now I was heading back up, and though I acknowledged that the feeling might be a fleeting one-I was old enough to know that much-it was as real as the sun. Watching London’s rapt expression as she stared at the eagle, I wondered if she would remember this experience, or if she knew how I felt about our newfound closeness. But it didn’t really matter. It was enough to feel it myself and by the time the eagle flew away, I held on to the image, knowing it would stay with me forever.

In February 2004-I’d been out of college for almost two years, and had been seeing Emily almost as long-I went to visit my parents on the weekend. Already, the habit of seeing them had been firmly established by then. Normally, Emily would join me, but for reasons lost to time, she couldn’t make it that weekend and I was on my own.

When I arrived, my dad was working on my mom’s car, not the Mustang. His head was under the hood and I saw that he was adding a quart of oil.

“Glad to see you’re taking care of your better half’s car,” I said, half joking, to which my dad nodded.