Nicholas Sparks - Two by Two

“Hey there,” I said. “How are you?”

“I feel like I’m supposed to ask you that question. I’ve been thinking about you the last few days and wondering how Sunday night went.”

“It went as well as something like that could, I guess. Vivian did most of the talking.”

“How’s London doing?”

“She seems all right. Other than the fact that she’s still getting over a cold.”

“Bodhi, too. He just came down with it yesterday. I think more than half the class is sick right now. It’s like a leper colony in there.” She seemed to study me for a moment. “Other than that, how are you holding up?”

“So-so,” I admitted. “I had to meet with an attorney today.”

“Oh, yuck,” she said. “I hated that part of it.”

“It wasn’t a lot of fun,” I said. “It still feels like a dream, like it’s not really happening. Even though I know that it is.”

She looked straight at me and as she held me in her sights, I was struck by the length of her eyelashes. Had they always been that long? I found myself struggling to remember. “Did you have your questions answered?” she asked.

“I wasn’t even sure what questions to ask. That’s what I was looking over in the car. Vivian sent a proposed separation agreement.”

“I’m not a lawyer, but if you have questions, you can call. I might not be able to answer all of them, of course.”

“I appreciate that,” I said. I could see more cars pulling into line, a steady flow now. As far as I could tell, I was the only male in the pickup line. As I faced Emily, I suddenly heard Vivian’s voice in my head- rumors! -and wondered if any of the mothers in the car line were watching us. Automatically, I took a slight step backward and slipped my hand into my pocket. “Did David leave for Australia?”

She nodded. “Yesterday evening.”

“Was Bodhi upset?”

“Very. And then, of course, he wakes up sick as a dog.”

“And no word when he’ll be back?”

“He said that he might be able to visit for a few days around Christmas.”

“That’s good.”

“Sure. If he actually shows. He said the same thing last year. He’s good at saying things. The problem is, he’s not always so good at follow-through.”

I wondered where London would be this Christmas. I wondered where I would be.

“Uh-oh,” she said, tilting her head. “I said something wrong, didn’t I? You sort of drifted off there.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking about some of the things the lawyer said to me today. It looks like I might have to sell the house.”

“Oh, no. Really?”

“I’m not sure there’s another option. It’s not as though I have enough cash on hand to simply pay Vivian off.”

That was putting it mildly; if I gave in to all her demands, I’d be flat broke. Add in alimony and child support, and I wasn’t even sure whether I could afford a two-bedroom apartment.

“It’ll all work out,” she said. “I know it’s sometimes hard to believe, but it will.”

“I hope so. Right now, I just want to… escape, you know?”

“You need a break from all this,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you guys come with Bodhi and me to the zoo in Ashboro this Saturday?”

“What about art class?”

“Puh-lease.” She tossed a length of her thick hair over her shoulder. “The kids can skip a day. And I know Bodhi would be thrilled. Has London ever been there?”

“No,” I said.

The directness of her offer was disarming and I struggled to come up with a response. Was she asking me on a date? Or was this more about Bodhi and London?

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll let you know.” By then, I could see teachers beginning to congregate near the door, students assembling by classroom. Emily noticed it too.

“I should get back to my car,” she said. “I don’t want to hold up the line. It takes them long enough as it is. Good seeing you, Russ.” She waved.

“You, too, Emily.”

I watched her walk away, trying to decipher the meaning of her invitation, but as she drew farther away, I felt the distinct urge to see more of her. I might not be ready and it might be too soon, but I suddenly wanted that more than anything.

“Hey Emily,” I called out.

She turned.

“What time are you thinking of leaving?”

When we got home London was feeling a little better, so we went for a bike ride. I let her take the lead, following along as we traversed the streets of the neighborhood. Her biking ability was improving with every ride. I still had to caution her to move to the side of the road when a car approached, but kids on bicycles were a common sight in the neighborhood, and most drivers gave us a wide berth.

We rode for an hour. Once home, she ate a snack and went upstairs to dress for dance. It seemed to take forever, and after a while I went up to check on her. I found her sitting on the bed, still wearing the same outfit she’d worn earlier.

I took a seat beside her. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I don’t want to go to dance tonight,” she said. “I’m sick.”

Her cold hadn’t adversely affected her bike ride, so I knew something else was going on. Namely, that she didn’t like dance class or Ms. Hamshaw. And who could blame her?

“If you’re too tired or still feeling sick, you don’t have to go.”

“Really?”

“Of course not.”

“Mommy might get mad.”

Your mom left us, I thought. But I didn’t say that.

“I’ll talk to her. If you’re sick, you’re sick. But is there something else going on?”

“No.”

“Because if there is, you can tell me.”

When she added nothing else, I put my arm around her. “Do you like going to dance?”

“It’s important,” she said, as if reciting a sacred rule. “Mommy used to dance.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you like it.”

“I don’t want to be a tree.”

I frowned. “Honey? Can you tell me a little more about what’s going on?”

“There’s two groups in my class. One group is going away to dance at the competition. They’re the good dancers. I’m in the other group. We have to dance, too, but only for our parents. And I have to be a tree in the dance that we’re doing.”

“Oh,” I said. “And that’s bad?”

“Yes, it’s bad. I’m just supposed to move my arms when the leaves grow and fall.”

“Can you show me?”

With a sigh, she got up from the bed. She made a circle with her arms above her head, her fingertips touching. Then, separating her arms, she wiggled her fingers as she lowered her hands to her side. When she finished, she took a seat beside me on the bed again. I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“If it makes you feel any better, you were a very good tree,” I finally offered.

“It’s for the bad dancers, Daddy. Because I’m not good enough to play the frog or the butterfly or the swan or the fish.”

I tried to imagine what those animals would be doing and how the dance would unfold, but what was the point? I figured I’d see it soon enough.

“How many other girls are trees?”

“Just me and Alexandra. I wanted to be the butterfly and I practiced really hard and I know all the moves, but Ms. Hamshaw said that Molly gets to be the butterfly.”

In the world of a five-year-old, I supposed this was a very big deal.

“When is the show?”

“I don’t know. She told us but I forgot.”

I made a note to check with Ms. Hamshaw. Before or after class, obviously, so I didn’t offend or disrupt her.

“Do you want to go to the zoo this weekend? With me and Bodhi and Miss Emily?”