Though she'd only been in school for a few weeks, I noticed that her coloring had improved. She was able to stay inside the lines, and had even taken to shading various parts of the pictures. Gone were the smears and squiggles of only a year ago.

My little girl was slowly but surely growing up, which for some reason made my heart ache in places I didn't know even existed.

CHAPTER 18.

It's Not a Date

A month after I graduated from college, I attended the wedding of a former fraternity brother named Tom Gregory in Chapel Hill. Tom was the son of two physicians, and his bride-to-be, a waifish brunette named Claire DeVane, had a father who owned fifty-six Bojangles' restaurants, fast-food places specializing in fried chicken and biscuits. The business might not have the elite ring associated with investment banking, but it minted money, and as a wedding gift, Claire's father had already given the couple a mini-mansion, along with a Mercedes convertible.

The wedding was, of course, a black-tie affair. I'd just started work at the Peters Group and had yet to receive my first paycheck; it went without saying that I was usually broke. While I had enough money to rent a tuxedo, I had to crash at another fraternity brother's place. His name was Liam Robertson, and he was about to start law school at UNC. Though he was also from Charlotte, we'd never been particularly close he was the kind of guy who took delight in abusing the pledges and fed Jell-O shots with Everclear to freshman girls but Alpha Gamma Rhos stick together.

To that point, I'd worn a tuxedo only once in my life. I'd rented a navy blue tuxedo for my senior prom in high school and the photo of me and my prom date graced the mantel of the fireplace at my parents' house until I married. That tuxedo, however, had a clip-on bowtie, while the tuxedo I'd rented for the wedding had one that I actually had to tie.

Unfortunately Liam Robertson had no more idea of how to tie the thing than I did, and as our departure time drew near, I'd already made half a dozen failed attempts. It was at that point that the front door to Liam's house flew open and Emily walked in.

I'd seen her before but had never been introduced. She and Liam had grown up in the same neighborhood and were supposedly just friends. Nonetheless, she was going to the wedding as Liam's date "so she can put in a good word for me in case I meet someone." As soon as I saw her, I did a double take.

It wasn't the Emily I'd seen in Liam's company before, the Bohemian with long skirts and Birkenstocks, usually sans makeup. Instead, the woman who stood before me was sheathed in a cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and high-heeled black pumps, an elegant look accentuated by tasteful diamond studs in both ears. The mascara she wore called attention to her striking eye color, and her lips, accentuated with red lipstick, were full and rich. Her hair fell in rippling waves well past her shoulders.

"Hey Emily," I heard Liam shout. "Russ needs help getting dressed!"

"Nice to see you, too, Liam," she said sardonically. "And yes, thank you. I appreciate the compliment."

"You look great, by the way," Liam added.

"Too late," she muttered under her breath as she glided toward me.

"He's always been clueless," she observed, almost to herself. "I take it you're Russ?"

I nodded, trying not to ogle.

"I'm Emily," she said. "Technically, I'm Liam's date, but not really. He's more like a self-absorbed younger brother to me."

"I heard that!" Liam shouted.

"Of course you did. But only because I was talking about you."

Their easy familiarity made me feel like a bystander, despite the fact that our faces were now only inches apart.

"What have we got here?" she said, wrestling the bowtie free before draping it around my neck again. I noticed that she was only a little bit shorter than I and was wearing a heady floral scent.

"I appreciate this," I said. "How do you know how to do this?"

"I had to help my dad when I was growing up," she said. "He never quite got the hang of it either. It always ended up crooked."

She tugged and adjusted the bowtie, her long fingers doing secret things out of eyesight. Our faces were so close it made me feel as though I was about to kiss her, and I thought again how beautiful she was. My eyes were drawn to her lips, then to the line of her neck. Her dress was cut low in the front, revealing a tiny lace bow at the front of her bra.

"Like what you see?" she teased.

I felt myself flush as I hastened to stare straight ahead, like a cadet at the Citadel. She smiled.

"Men," she said. "You're all the same."

I continued to stand at attention, silent as she finished. Then, with a gentle tap to my chest with both hands and a wink, she went on. "But since you're kind of cute, I'll forgive you."

When I pulled into Emily's driveway the following morning, I immediately spotted her loading a small cooler into her SUV.

Getting out of the car, London scampered toward her and gave her a hug.

"Where's Bodhi?" I heard my daughter ask.

"He's in his room," Emily said. "He's picking a couple of movies to watch on the way. Do you want to go up and help him?'

"Yes ma'am," London said, racing toward the front door before vanishing inside.

Emily watched her go before turning toward me. She was dressed in shorts and a sleeveless top, and she'd tamed her hair into a ponytail. Despite the casual mom-at-the-park wardrobe, she seemed to glow with health and vitality. I couldn't stop staring at her thick hair and unblemished skin.

"Ma'am?" she asked, referring to London, when I was close.

"She's very polite," I said, hoping my scrutiny wasn't too obvious.

"I like it," she said. "I've tried that with Bodhi, but it's never seemed to take." With the kids in the house, she seemed as youthful as the girl I once knew, giving rise to an internally disorienting sense of time warp.

"It should be fun today," I commented. "London's been excited about it."

"Bodhi, too," she said. "He wants London to ride with us."

"That's fine," I said. "I can follow."

"You'll ride with us, too, dingbat. There's no reason for both of us to have to drive, and there's no way I want to be trapped with those two without assistance. Besides, it'll take us two hours to get there, and this baby," she said, nodding at the SUV, "can play DVDs for the kids."

Her playful ribbing transported me back to the first time I'd ever spoken to her, and how nervous I'd been.

"You want me to drive?" I offered.

"Unless you'd rather be in charge of the snacks. Of course, that means bending and twisting and unwrapping food every few minutes."

I remembered my dad's comment about family trips.

"No, I'm good," I said. "It's probably better if I drive."

Before we had even left the neighborhood, Bodhi asked if they could watch Madagascar 3.

"Let's wait until we get on the highway," Emily said over her shoulder.

"Can I have a snack?" Bodhi asked.

"You just had breakfast."

"But I'm hungry."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Goldfish," he demanded.

Vivian had never allowed that particular treat into our home, but it was a staple of my own childhood.

"What's a Goldfish?" London asked.

"It's a cheesy cracker shaped like a fish," Emily said. "It's really good."

"Can I have one, Daddy?"

My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and I wondered what London was thinking about the fact that I was up front with Emily and not her mom, or whether it mattered to her at all.

"Of course you can."

The drive to the zoo passed quickly. In the backseat, the kids were happily engrossed in the movie, but since they were within earshot, we didn't mention Vivian or David. Nor did Emily and I touch on our shared past. Instead, I told her what I'd been doing at work, and she talked about her paintings and the fact that she had a show coming up in mid-November, which meant she'd be busier than usual until then; we also caught up on our respective families, the conversation and laughter flowing easily, as though we'd never lost contact with each other.

Yet despite our familiarity, the outing still felt new and a little strange. It wasn't a date, but it wasn't something I could have envisioned even a month ago. I was on a road trip with Emily, kids in tow, and though I initially expected to feel a vague sense of guilt, I didn't. Instead, I found myself glancing at her in quiet moments and wondering how David could have been so stupid.

And, of course, why I'd been so stupid, so long ago.

"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."