“I just want to know what’s going on…”
She closed her eyes, as though steeling herself, and when they opened again, I could see rage flaring behind them.
“Why are you dragging London along when you go out with your girlfriend?”
Her question caught me so off guard it took me a second to comprehend what she was talking about. “You mean Emily?”
“Of course I mean Emily!”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I sputtered. “London and Bodhi are friends.”
“So the two of you take them to the zoo? And the aquarium? Like some kind of double date?” she spat out. “Do you know how confusing that is for her? Why would you do such a thing?”
“I’m not trying to confuse her…”
“Do you know what London did yesterday? When we went to art class? She ran up and hugged Emily. In front of everyone!”
“London hugs everyone…”
“SHE HUGGED HER!” Vivian shouted. Her cheeks flushed. “I thought you were smarter than that! I thought you were better than that! You don’t see me insisting that London hang out with Walter and me, do you? I haven’t even told London about Walter. She doesn’t even know he exists! I haven’t even told her that we’re getting divorced!”
“Vivian —”
“Don’t!” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear you try to justify why the four of you have been gallivanting around town like you’re a family now. You sure didn’t wait long, did you?”
“Emily’s just a friend,” I protested.
“Are you honestly going to stand here and try to convince me that you see Emily just because London and Bodhi are friends?” she said, sneering. “Tell me this: Are you hanging out with the parents of London’s other friends, too?”
“No, but —”
“And you don’t think about her? You don’t call her? You’re not turning to her for support?”
I couldn’t deny it and my expression must have given me away.
“I’ve been trying my best to keep London out of this,” she went on. “While you… You don’t seem to have given any thought as to what might be best for London. Or what she might be thinking or feeling. You’re just thinking about yourself and what you want – same old story. You haven’t changed at all, have you, Russ?”
With that, Vivian got into the SUV and slammed the door. She backed out and roared away while I stood there, frozen and reeling inside.
I couldn’t sleep that night.
Was Vivian right? Had I only been thinking about myself? I replayed all the times I’d seen Emily; I retraced the steps that had led us to the zoo and the aquarium. And I asked myself, if London had a different best friend, would I have visited those places with that friend’s parents?
In my heart, I knew the answer was no, which made me wonder how much I’d been lying to myself.
I felt the repercussions of Vivian’s anger a few days later, while sitting in Taglieri’s office. He’d called me because he had an update on the divorce negotiations.
“I was finally able to spend time on the phone with Vivian’s attorney,” he said, “going through the proposed agreement section by section.” He sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Vivian, but I was anticipating a little give-and-take, as is the norm in these kinds of negotiations. What I didn’t expect was for her to escalate her demands.”
“She wants more?” I felt a numbness spreading through me at his words.
“Yup.”
“Of what?”
“Everything. More alimony. More money when it comes to dividing joint property.”
“How much exactly?’
When he told me I blanched. “What if I don’t have it?”
“Well, for starters… I’d put the house up for sale.”
While I’d been dreading Vivian’s next move, I felt as if I’d been sucker-punched.
“She also said to tell you that Vivian will be here for Halloween weekend, and that she would prefer if you didn’t stay in the house this time.”
“Why didn’t Vivian just tell me that herself?”
“Because Vivian has decided that henceforth, she wants all communications to go through the attorneys. She doesn’t want to speak with you directly.”
“Anything else?” I said, in a daze.
“She also wants to bring London to Atlanta the weekend of November thirteenth.”
“And if I say no?”
“She’ll probably go straight to the court. And Russ…” Taglieri eyed me seriously. “This isn’t something worth fighting about, because you won’t win. Unless she’s an unfit mother, she has the right to see her daughter.”
“I wouldn’t have fought it. I’m just… blown away.”
“Do you want to talk about what it is that set her off?”
“Not really,” I said. What was the point? “What’s she saying about London?”
“For now, she wants to have her every other weekend. In the future, though, she’s insisting on sole custody.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Which is yet another reason to put your house up for sale. Even though I’ve slashed my rates for you, fighting her is going to make this an expensive proposition.”
On the work front, at least, things were improving. In the weeks following London’s birthday party up until the end of the month, I landed four out of the five legal firms as new clients. Though it meant I was suddenly drowning in work – as were my tech guy and the camera crew – my work with Taglieri had vastly shortened my learning curve. Meanwhile, the plastic surgeon’s campaign kicked off while Marge and Liz were in Costa Rica, and he was thrilled with the results he was seeing.