Two By Two
“They’ll catch up,” I said. “I don’t think I was reading when I went to kindergarten.”
“Why not?”
“My parents didn’t read to me too much. They probably assumed I’d learn to read when I was in school.”
“Why didn’t they read to you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they were too tired.”
“Mom reads to me when she’s tired. And you read to me when you’re tired.”
“People are just different, I guess. Hey, by the way, did Bodhi ever show up at school?”
“Yes and we get to sit at the same table. He’s really good at coloring.”
“That’s great. It’s nice to sit by someone you already know.”
By then, the school was receding in the distance. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Can we go to Dairy Queen before piano? Since I went to school today?”
Noting the time, I did a quick calculation. “I think we can squeeze that in.”
The stop for ice cream meant that we arrived at the piano teacher’s house with only a few minutes to spare. London had been on the go for eight hours, nine by the time the lesson was over, and that didn’t count the time it had taken her to get ready for school. She was going to be exhausted by the time we got home.
While London practiced, I took a walk through the neighborhood. My knees were a bit achy from the regular jogging but not too bad. I had just set out when I heard my cell phone ringing. Marge.
“How did London do on her first day?” Marge asked without preamble.
“She had a good time,” I answered. “Her friend Bodhi was there.”
“Yeah? How about Bodhi’s mom?”
“I didn’t see her,” I said. “We were gone by the time she and Bodhi got there.”
“Thank God,” she said. “Otherwise, poor Emily might have been melted by Vivian’s laser-beam death stares.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of picking on my wife?”
“I’m not picking on her. If anything, I’m on her side. I mean if Liz started hanging out with her ex, who also happened to be a terrific, beautiful, recently separated woman, I’d be trying to annihilate her with my laser-beam stares, too.”
“What is it with women?”
“Oh please. Don’t even go there. Are you kidding? I’m sure you just love hearing her bring up Walter in every conversation. Even I was getting tired of his name.”
“She works for him,” I said, trying to downplay it. “It’s normal.”
“Yeah? What’s my boss’s name?” When I didn’t answer, she went on. “And who cares if they work together, exercise together, travel together, and fly on the private jet together, right? And what does it matter if she mentions her billionaire boss’s name more than she mentions yours? You’re so evolved that you’re above feeling even the slightest tinge of jealousy.”
“Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”
“Not at all,” she said. “But I do want to know how the rest of your weekend went, after you left Mom’s. I take it you didn’t bring up the new-bank-account or apartment-in-Atlanta things?”
“No. Saturday night ended up being pretty quiet. We went to bed early. We were all tired. And on Sunday, I had a break actually.” I told her a bit about Vivian and London’s day.
“Like I didn’t see that one coming,” Marge offered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you notice the way she was staring at you after London was stung by the bee?”
I remembered exactly but didn’t want to say it. Instead: “She was just upset that London was hurt.”
“Nope. She was upset because London went running to you and not her to comfort her. Liz noticed it, too.”
I remembered thinking the same thing and said nothing.
“So what does she do?” Marge went on. “She spends all day with London on Sunday, and then rushes London into the classroom before you had a chance to kiss her goodbye.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Because Mom called and told me. She thought it was odd.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, suddenly feeling suddenly defensive. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“I might be,” she admitted. “I hope I am.”
“And stop talking about Vivian like that. All of you need to stop dissecting everything she does. She’s been under a ton of pressure these last few weeks.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I was out of line. I’m sorry.” There was a pause. “What are you doing now?”
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
“I’m doing my best. I’ve already apologized.”
“London’s at her piano lesson. I’m on a walk. I figured I’d burn a few more calories before dinner.”
“Good for you,” she said. “You look thinner in the face by the way.”
“You can’t really tell yet.”
“Oh yeah you can. This last weekend, I was like… wow.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I don’t stay mad at you.”
“You never stay mad at me. You’re such a people pleaser, you’ll probably hang up worried that my feelings were hurt because you called me out.”