Nicholas Sparks - Two by Two

“No you wouldn’t. You’re stronger than you think.”

We’d finished our wine and by unspoken agreement, we rose from the table. A glance at my watch showed that we’d spent nearly three hours together, which didn’t seem possible.

We started toward the exit and made our way to our cars. “Remember what I said about finding a couple of good friends to lean on. You’re probably going to need them.”

“Are you volunteering?’

“I already did, remember? And I hate to tell you this, but if my experience is any guide, it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.”

“I can’t imagine how it can get worse.”

“I hope for your sake that it doesn’t.”

I reached for her door, opening it for her. “Me, too.”

“Rewind and start from the beginning,” Marge said. “You went for a long walk and then had lunch with Emily? And you drank wine?”

She and Liz had gotten home a few minutes earlier. On the way, they’d called, asking what I wanted for dinner. They were planning to pick up Mexican takeout and when I told her that I wasn’t hungry, Marge said she’d pick something for me anyway. In the to-go box was a burrito the size of a softball, along with rice and refried beans. Margeand Liz had both ordered taco salads. and we took our seats at the table.

“Yeah,” I said. “What’s the big deal?”

Marge paused and took a puff from her inhaler before smirking. “Let’s just call it an act two twist I never saw coming.”

“Really?” Liz asked between bites. “They did have that date at Chick-fil-A, remember?”

“Would you stop with the date talk? We walked. We talked. We had lunch.”

“That’s what a date is. But fine. My question is whether you think you’ll call her again.”

“Her son Bodhi is London’s best friend. If we have to set up a playdate, I might have to.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” I said. “I have no interest in dating anyone. Right now, I can’t imagine wanting to date ever again.”

What I didn’t say was that even though I didn’t want to date, I didn’t much like the concept of being alone, either. What I wanted was for Vivian and me to go back to what we had before. I wanted to rewind and start over.

Marge seemed to read my mind. “Have you heard from Vivian? About what time you can go home tomorrow?”

“Not yet. I’m going to call London later. I figure she’ll tell me then.”

Marge pointed to the burrito. “You’re not eating.”

“I wouldn’t be able to finish this if I were stranded on a desert island for a month.”

“Why don’t you at least try a bite?”

I did as she asked; while it was tasty, I was still full from the hamburger, and I turned toward Liz. “Did you learn any Mexican recipes in your class?”

Liz nodded as she poked at her salad. “A few. I could have made you something, but I was feeling kind of lazy. And I would have had to run to the store.”

“Do you have some easy and healthy recipes? Meals that London would enjoy?”

“Plenty. Do you want me to pick a few favorites?”

“Would you? I want to keep things normal, but I’m not very experienced in the kitchen. I do want to keep London on a good schedule, though. Which includes dinner.”

“I’ll have some recipes for you by tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it,” I said. “How was the housewarming party?”

“It was a lot of fun,” Liz said. “The house is very stylish. Even though our friends just moved in, they had all their paintings hung. It was actually pretty impressive.”

Automatically, I wondered whether they owned any of Emily’s. I wondered, too, how Emily’s night with her sister Jess was going. Under Marge’s scrutiny, I forked another piece of the burrito.

“Today was the first time I didn’t think about Vivian every waking minute.”

Marge offered a thoughtful expression. “What was that like?”

“Strange,” I said. “But I think it was good for me. I don’t feel quite as anxious now.”

“You’re already beginning to heal, Russ,” Marge said to me. “You’re stronger than you think.”

I smiled, remembering that Emily had said exactly the same thing.

After dinner, I dialed Vivian using FaceTime, and she answered on the second ring.

“Hey there,” she said, “London and I are cuddled up watching a movie. Can she call you back a little later?”

“Hi, Daddy!” I heard London call out. “Nemo and Dory are with the sharks!”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Did you two have a good time today?”

“We had a lot of fun,” Vivian said. “She’ll call you back, okay?”

“I love you, Daddy!” London shouted. “Miss you!”

The sound of her voice made my heart ache.

“That’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be around.”

I carried my phone with me while I helped Marge and Liz in the kitchen; I kept it on the table beside me when Marge brought out the Scrabble board. Liz, I learned, took the game seriously, and she was good. By the end, she’d outscored both my sister and me combined, but the game was a lot more fun than I remembered.

It was almost enjoyable enough, in fact, to make me forget the fact that London didn’t call back.

Almost, but not quite.

In the morning, I received a text from Vivian. Can you come by at six thirty? Let me know if that works for you.

It struck me as kind of late, especially since she had to drive back, but I wasn’t going to point that out. She was trying to spend as much time with London as she could, but because I was still annoyed that I hadn’t had a chance to talk to London, I put my phone aside without responding. I didn’t text her back until almost two in the afternoon.

My run that morning was nearly eight miles and when I got home, I did a hundred push-ups. Only when I’d showered did my irritation begin to wane.

Liz put together a small recipe book of about fifteen recipes, most with no more than six different ingredients. Afterward, she showed me how to meal plan, and we went to the grocery store to stock up on everything I would need.

Though Marge and Liz would disagree, I nonetheless felt a bit like a third wheel, and after lunch, I hopped in the car and drove to the bookstore. I had never been a big reader, but I found myself wandering to the relationship section of the bookstore. There were a few shelves of books about coping with divorce and I thumbed through all of them before finally selecting a few. When I was checking out, I was sure that the clerk would read the titles before glancing at me with pity, but the teenage girl with pink hair behind the register simply scanned the books before shoving them into a bag and asking me whether I’d like to pay in cash or with credit.

Afterward, I decided to swing by the park, on the off chance that London would be there. If she was, I wasn’t sure whether I would intrude, but I wanted to see her. It occurred to me that I was behaving like an addict who was suffering from withdrawal, but I didn’t care.

When I got to the park, there was no sign of Vivian and London. I pulled in anyway. With the temperatures cooling off a bit this weekend, there were more kids there than usual. I took a seat on the bench and opened one of the books. I began to read, at first because I thought I should, but after half an hour, because I wanted to.