“Do you have a guess as to the kind of story it might be?”
“I suspect it’s just the usual garbage, similar to what’s been written before. The journalist is an environmentalist nut and he’s been talking to people who claim that one of the oceanfront condo developments took a lot of shortcuts and was not only illegal, but has caused severe beach erosion on another part of the beach during the last tropical storm. Basically, it’s all about blaming the rich people whenever Mother Nature strikes.”
“You know Spannerman’s not an eco-friendly guy, right?”
By then, Vivian was pouring herself a glass of wine. “Walter’s not like that anymore. He’s changed a lot since you knew him.”
I doubt it, I thought. “It sounds like you’ve got a good handle on it,” I offered instead.
“I’m just glad the article isn’t coming out this week. Walter’s got a big fund-raiser scheduled this weekend in Atlanta. For his PAC.”
“He has a PAC now?”
“I mentioned it to you before,” she said. She placed a frying pan on the stove, added the chicken and began riffling through the spice cabinet. “He started it a couple of years ago and has been funding it himself. Now he’s decided to reach out to others for support. And that’s what I’m going to be overseeing for the next three days. He hired an event company to run the program and while they’ve done a good job, he wants it to be perfect. That’s where I come in. He knows I was in entertainment, and he wants me to see if I can find a musical act. Someone big.”
“For this weekend? That doesn’t give you a lot of time.”
“I know. And I told him exactly that. I put a call in to my old boss and he gave me the names of some people to call, so we’ll see. On the plus side, Walter is willing to pay whatever it costs, but it means I’ll probably be working late all week. And I’ll have to go to Atlanta.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. “It’s only your second day at work.”
“Don’t be like that,” she said as she began browning the chicken. “It’s not like he gave me much of a choice in the matter. Pretty much every major developer from Texas to Virginia is coming, and all the executives have to go. And it’s not all weekend—I fly out Saturday morning and come back Sunday.”
I didn’t like it but what could I do? “All right,” I said. “It sounds like you’re already becoming indispensable.”
“I’m trying.” She smiled. “How was London today? Did she do okay at piano?”
“She did great, but I’m not sure she likes dance all that much. She was quiet after class yesterday.”
“The teacher was upset because you were late. So London was upset, too.”
“The instructor seems a little intense.”
“She is. And that’s why her dance teams win so many competitions.” She nodded toward London. “While I get dinner going, will you get London into the bath?”
“Now?”
“That way, you can read to her after we eat, and get her down for the night. She’s tired and like I told you, I’ve got a ton of work on tap.”
“Sure,” I said, realizing that once again, I’d likely be going to bed alone.
CHAPTER 7
Two by Two
When London was three and half, the three of us went on a picnic near Lake Norman. It was something we only did once. Vivian packed a delicious lunch and on our way to Lake Norman, and because the day was breezy, we stopped at a hobby store on the way to buy a kite. I’d picked the kind of kite that had been popular when I was a kid; simple and inexpensive, nothing like the kind of kites that avid enthusiasts would dream of flying.
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.