“They’re going to be exhausted,” Emily predicted, shortly after we arrived at the zoo. Since we parked, they’d raced each other from the parking lot to the ticket booth, and once inside, to the water fountain and back, then ricocheted back to the gift shop. London, I was proud to note, must have inherited some of those track-and-field genes because to my eyes they ran neck and neck. London and Bodhi were studying the gift shop racks as we ambled toward them.
“I’m already exhausted, just watching them.”
“Did you get your run in this morning?”
“Just a short one. Four miles or so.”
“Better than me. Hoofing it around here will be my exercise for the day.”
“How do you stay so fit?”
“Pole dancing,” she said. At my startled expression, she laughed.
“You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” She nudged my shoulder. “I’m kidding, you dork. But you should have seen your expression! It was priceless. I do try to make it to the gym a few times a week, but mainly, I was blessed with good genes and I watch what I eat. It’s easier than having to exercise all the time.”
“For you, maybe. I like eating.”
London skipped toward me as we entered the shop.
“Daddy, look! Butterfly wings!” she cried, holding up a pair of lacy, semi-translucent wings, large enough for her to wear.
“Very pretty,” I said.
“Can we get them? In case I get to be the butterfly at the dance?”
For Ms. Hamshaw, with the kids who didn’t make the cut for the competition. The performance in which London was supposed to be a tree.
“I don’t know, sweetie…,” I said.
“Please? They’re so pretty. And even if I’m not the butterfly, I can wear them today and make the animals happy. And I can show them to Mr. and Mrs. Sprinkles when I get home.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I checked the price, relieved that they weren’t exorbitant. “You really want to wear these today?”
“Yes!” she pleaded, bouncing up and down. “And Bodhi wants the dragonfly wings.”
I felt Emily’s gaze on me and I turned toward her. “It might make them easier to spot if they run off,” she pointed out.
“All right,” I said, “but just the wings, okay?”
“And only if you put on sunscreen,” Emily added.
Unlike me, she’d remembered to bring some. Oops.
After paying, I helped London slip the wings on. Emily did the same with Bodhi. Spreading enough lotion on their skin to enable them to slither through tiny pipes, we watched as they ran off again, with their arms outstretched.
The zoo was divided into two major areas: North America and Africa. We visited North America first, wandering through various exhibits and marveling at everything from harbor seals and peregrine falcons, to alligators, muskrats, beavers, a cougar and even a black bear. In each case, the kids reached the exhibit before we did and by the time Emily and I arrived, they were usually anxious to move on. Fortunately the crowds were light, despite the glorious weather. The temperature was mild, and for the first time in months, the humidity didn’t feel oppressive. Which didn’t, however, stop the kids from asking for Popsicles and sodas.
“Whatever happened to Liam?” I asked Emily. “I haven’t heard from him in ten years. Last I heard, he was practicing law in Asheville and he was already on his second marriage.”
“He’s still practicing law,” she said, “but his second marriage didn’t last either.”
“She was a cocktail waitress, too, right? When they met?”
“He has a type,” she said, with a smile. “No question about it.”
“When was the last time you heard from him?”
“Maybe seven or eight months ago? He heard I was getting divorced and he asked me out.”
“He wasn’t one of the nice guys you never called a second time?”
“Liam? Oh, God no. We’d known each other growing up, but you know—he’s always been a little too into himself for my taste. And in college, we hung out more out of habit than actual friendship. And by habit, I mean he came on to me at least once a semester, usually when he was drinking.”
“I always wondered why you tolerated him,” I mused.
“Because my parents were friends with his parents and lived across the street from each other. My dad thought he had his act together, but my mom saw right through him all along, thank God. The point is, it had more to do with the fact that he was always there. On campus, at home. Back then, I hadn’t developed the ability to just cut people off. Even if they were jerks.”
“If it wasn’t for him, though, we’d never have met.”
She smiled wistfully. “Do you remember when you asked me to dance? At the wedding?”
“I do,” I said. It had taken more than an hour for me to work up the courage, even though Liam had by then zeroed in on a woman who would later become wife number one.
“You were afraid of me,” she said with a knowing grin.
I was acutely aware of how close she was; up ahead, London and Bodhi were walking beside each other as well, and I flashed on the book I read nightly to London. The four of us walking two by two, because no one should have to walk alone.
“I wasn’t afraid,” I clarified. “I was embarrassed because you’d caught me ogling when you helped me with my bowtie.”
“Oh stop… I was flattered and you know it. We’ve been over this before—I’d asked Liam about you, remember? He said that you were too nerdy for me. And not handsome enough. And not rich enough. Then he hit on me again.”
I laughed. “It’s coming back to me.”
“Do you stay in touch with friends from college?” She squinted as if trying to recall faces. “We used to see your buddies pretty regularly when we were together.”
“Not really,” I said. “Once I got married and London came along, I sort of lost track of most of them. You?”
“I have a few friends from college and a handful that I knew growing up. We still talk and get together but probably not as much as we should. Like it did with you, life just got busy.”
I noticed the lightest spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose, so faint as to be invisible in anything but perfectly angled, autumn sunlight. I didn’t recall her having those fifteen years ago; they were another surprising feature of this once-familiar Emily. For a moment I wondered what Vivian would think if she saw Emily and me together right now.
Suddenly the whole situation struck me as surreal—me with Emily at the zoo with the kids, Vivian in Spannerman’s arms somewhere else. How had things come to this? And where had my life taken this unforeseen U-turn?
Emily’s hand on my arm startled me out of my reverie.
“You okay?” She studied me. “You went away there for a second.”
“Yeah, sorry.” I tried for a smile. “Sometimes it just hits me at random moments… how odd and inexplicable it all is, I mean.”
She was silent for a moment, letting her hand fall away. “It’s going to be that way for a while,” she said, her tone soft. “But if you can, try to let whatever comes, come, and whatever stays, stay. And whatever goes, just let it go.”
“That’s beyond me right now.”
“‘Right now’ being the operative words. You’ll get there.”
A dull ache of missing Vivian stirred within me then, but it didn’t linger. It was a rabbit punch, without the strength of an uppercut, and I understood that it was due to Emily. Given the choice, I realized that it was better to spend the day with a fun and compassionate friend than a wife who seemed to despise me.
“It’s been a long time since I did something like this,” Emily reflected. When I looked at her inquiringly, she continued. “Hang out with a friend of the opposite sex, I mean… it was before David, that’s all I know. It might have even been before you and I were together. Why is that?”
“Because we were married.”