We left because we were getting married. I didn’t say that, but Liz – being Liz – probably sensed my agitation and like me, wanted to keep things cordial. “There’s no other city quite like it, is there?” she said. “We always enjoy our trips there.”
“If you need help getting dinner reservations anywhere, let me know. I can call my old boss and I’m sure he can pull some strings.”
“Thank you. We’ll keep that in mind. How’s the office move to Atlanta going?”
“It’s going. For whatever reason, I’ve been put in charge of the logistics, and it’s been a lot more work than I imagined. I have to be in Atlanta for a couple of days at the end of the week.”
“But you’ll be at school on London’s first day?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I’m sure that will make London very happy. Is there an official move-in date yet? For Atlanta, I mean?”
“Sometime in mid-September, I’m guessing. It’s really going to be an incredible office. It’s right on Peachtree, with amazing views. And Walter has been setting up some of the executives with temporary corporate apartments, so that’s made things a little easier, too.”
“Will you be using one of the apartments?”
“I suppose it depends on how much time I’ll actually have to spend there.”
It depends?
Before I could figure out what that meant, Liz went on. “But you’ll be able to mainly work out of Charlotte, right?”
“That’s the hope, but who knows for sure? This week, I’m in Atlanta three days, but Walter is toying with the idea of eventually running for governor. Not next year, but in 2020. But between his real-estate developments and his PAC and now this, don’t be shocked if I have to be there four days a week.”
“That’s a lot of nights in a hotel.”
“If I’m there that much, I’d probably take Walter up on his offer for a corporate apartment.”
“Seriously?” I finally interjected, unable to help myself.
“What can I tell you? Liz is right about hotel living.”
“I’d rather you not have an apartment in Atlanta,” I said, wondering why I was just finding out about this now, instead of in private.
“I know you don’t,” she said. “Do you think I want that?”
I didn’t respond, because I wasn’t quite sure I knew the answer.
“Why would he want to be governor?” Marge asked, interrupting my thoughts. “He already has all the money and power he needs.”
“Why not? He’s been successful in everything he’s done. He’d probably be a great governor.”
Even as Vivian was talking, I was still thinking about the bank account and the apartment. Marge probably was, too, based on her expression. Liz, meanwhile, was a master at keeping conversations on neutral ground. “It sounds to me like he’ll be keeping you very busy over the next few years,” Liz said.
“I’m busy all day, every day already.”
“And you enjoy it,” Liz said.
“I do. I really missed working, and it’s an exciting place to work. I feel like I’m finally getting back to being the real me, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes all the sense in the world,” Liz agreed. “I tell my clients that meaningful work is essential for good mental health.”
“Being a stay-at-home mom is meaningful, too,” I pointed out.
“No question about it,” Liz said. “I think everyone would agree with the idea that staying at home to raise a child is meaningful and important.” Then, to Vivian: “Has it been hard being apart from London?”
“I know she misses me,” Vivian answered. “But I think it’s important that she sees me working outside the home. The last thing I want is for her to think that women should aspire to being barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen as a life’s goal.”
“When were you ever barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?” I interjected.
“It’s a figure of speech, Russ,” she said. “You know what I mean. And frankly, it’s been good for Russ, too. I think he has a lot more respect for what my life was like for five years.”
“I always had respect for what you did,” I said, tired of feeling like I had to continually defend myself. “And yes, you’re right that watching London takes a lot of energy. But I’m also working, too, and trying to balance both has been the difficult part.”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed for an instant, her dislike for my comment obvious. She turned her attention to Marge again. “How are things with you? Work going okay?”
It was the kind of innocuous question that defined their relationship – a question that meant nothing and kept conversation superficial.
“Like they say, whenever we want to liven up the office party, we invite a couple of funeral directors.”
Despite myself, I smiled. Vivian didn’t.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Vivian said. “I can’t imagine staring at numbers all day and dealing with the IRS.”
“It’s not for everyone, but I’ve always been good with numbers. And I enjoy helping my clients.”
“That’s good,” Vivian said. She added nothing else and the four of us descended into silence. Marge picked at her fingernail while Liz adjusted the hem of her shorts. It didn’t take a genius to understand that the levity that had been present all afternoon evaporated as soon as Vivian had taken a seat on the porch. Even Vivian seemed at a loss for words. She stared at nothing in particular before finally, almost reluctantly, focusing on Marge again. “What time did the two of you get here today?”