"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."

"But I know other married people who have friends of the opposite sex."

"I'm not saying that it can't happen," I conceded. "It's just that it can get tricky and I think most people know that. Human nature being what it is, and given how hard marriage is, the last thing any spouse needs is an attractive alternative. It can make the other party look bad."

She made a wry face. "Is that what I'm doing?" she asked. "No don't answer. That was inappropriate." She smoothed some stray hairs into her ponytail. "It's not my intent to make anything worse between you and Vivian."

"I know that," I said. "Then again, I'm not sure you could make it any worse. For all I know, she's off in Paris with the guy right now."

"You don't know?"

"The only time we spoke this week was when she told me she wanted to see London two of the next three weekends, including her birthday weekend, then yelled at me for allowing London to miss dance class. She also said it would be 'hard to reach' her, whatever that means. And that I should sleep at Marge's or my parents when she's in town, because she wants the house. Oh, and that she's sick of my crap."

Emily winced.

"It wasn't my favorite phone call," I admitted.

"But you know she shouldn't get to see London every single weekend. Nor should you have to leave the house."

"She says she wants to make it easier for London."

"It sounds to me like she just wants what she wants."

"That, too," I said. "But at the same time, I can see her point. It would be disruptive for London to have to stay in a hotel when her mom's in town."

"Her life has already been disrupted," Emily pointed out. "Why can't she just sleep in the guest room?"

"She thinks that might confuse London."

"So suggest that she go to bed after London is asleep and then set an alarm so she's awake before London. When you're together, just be cordial to one another. I know it's hard when emotions are high, but it's not impossible. And it's better than you getting kicked out of your own house every time she comes to visit. That's just wrong and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"You're right," I acknowledged, but I was already dreading the argument that would inevitably ensue. More than anyone, Vivian knew how to hurt me when she didn't get her way.

"When we met in the coffee shop that first time, I told you that I'd seen you dropping off London, remember?"

"I remember."

"What I didn't say is that I watched you for a while. I saw the way you are with her, the way she hugged you and told you she loved you. It's obvious to everyone that you are the apple of that girl's eye."

Inexplicably, I felt myself blush with pleasure. "Well, I'm pretty much the only parent she has right now..."

"It's more than that, Russ," she interrupted. "For little girls, their first love should always be their dad, but that isn't always the case. When I saw you two saying goodbye that day, I was struck by how loving and close you seemed. Then I recognized you, and I just knew I had to say hello. So I followed you."

"Come on..."

"Scout's honor," Emily said, making the Boy Scout sign. "You know me. I live by my instincts. Artist. Remember?"

I laughed. "Yeah," I said, meeting her determined gaze and feeling flattered, although for what reason I wasn't sure. "I'm glad you did. I don't know what kind of shape I'd be in right now if you hadn't. You've been a big help to me."

"Yep, that's what I do," she said with a playful "aw shucks" grin.

"You know what's strange?"

"What's that?"

"I don't have any memories of what you were like when you were angry. I can't even recall any serious fights between us. So tell me: Do you get angry?"

"Of course! And I can be scary," she warned.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't ever test it. I'm like a grizzly bear and jackal and great white shark all rolled into one." She gestured at our surroundings. "I thought animal metaphors would be appropriate. Since we're here at the zoo, I mean."

After viewing the animals of North America and the aviary, the four of us had lunch. Despite a steady stream of snacking during the previous four hours, Bodhi managed to finish a plate of chicken nuggets and fries, along with a chocolate milkshake. London consumed about a third as much, but for her that was a lot. Neither Emily nor I were hungry, both of us opting for a bottle of water.

"Can we go see the lions now?" Bodhi asked.

"Not until we put on more sunscreen," Emily answered, and the kids popped out of their seats. Again, Emily slathered them up.

"You're very good at remembering that. I forget every time."

"You never saw David's extended family. They lived in the Outback like the Outback, Outback and you could have measured the depth of their wrinkles with a wooden ruler. A lot of people here get too much sun, but seeing those relatives at our wedding really made an impression on me. I barely leave the house without sunscreen these days."

"That's why you have the skin of a twenty-year-old."

"Ha! Nice try! But a lovely thought nonetheless."

I was tempted to explain that I was sincere, but opted instead to start gathering our food trays.

"Who's ready to head to Africa?" I asked.

I admit that I found the Africa part of the zoo more to my liking. Growing up, I'd seen alligators in the Cape Fear River, muskrats and beavers, all sorts of birds including that majestic bald eagle and even a bear. When I was a kid in Charlotte, across the street from my elementary school, a bear was spotted crossing the road and eventually ended up in the branches of an oak tree. It was a juvenile bear and while the sighting was definitely uncommon, everyone knew that bears weren't really that rare in North Carolina. The largest black bear on record, in fact, was killed in Craven County. The point is, the animals of North America that we'd seen earlier didn't strike me as terribly exotic.

Never once, however, had I spotted a zebra or giraffe, or a chimpanzee; I'd never come face-to-face with baboons, or elephants either. Maybe I'd seen them at the circus my family went to the circus every year when it was in town but seeing the animals in a setting that was somewhat reminiscent of the wilds of Africa was enough to make even the kids stop and stare for a while. Handing London my phone, she took more than a hundred photos, which added to her excitement.

Because we took our time, we didn't finish up at the zoo until late afternoon. By the time we trekked back to the car, the kids were trailing behind us.

"It's like the tortoise and the hare," I said to Emily.

"Except the hares back there probably ran three times as far as we walked."

"Well, at least they'll sleep well."

"I just hope that Bodhi doesn't fall asleep in the car. If he naps for two hours, he'll be awake until midnight."

"I didn't think about that," I said, suddenly concerned about London's schedule as well. "Kind of like remembering to bring sunscreen. Or bringing snacks for the trip. Obviously, I'm a work in progress when it comes to child rearing on my own."

"We're all works in progress," she said. "It's the definition of being a parent."

"You seem to know what you're doing."

"Sometimes," she said. "Not always. This week when Bodhi was sick, I couldn't decide whether to baby him, or treat his cold like an everyday occurrence."

"I know how my parents would have reacted," I said. "Unless I was bleeding profusely or had broken bones protruding from my skin or a fever high enough to fry my brain, they would have shrugged and told me to tough it out."

"And yet, you turned out just fine. Which means that maybe I was too soft on Bodhi. Maybe he'll learn to like being sick because it gets him special treatment."

"Why is it so hard to be a really good parent?"

"You don't have to be a really good parent," she said. "All you have to do is be good enough."

As I pondered her words, I realized why my parents and Marge had liked Emily so much. Like them, Emily was wise.

CHAPTER 19.

Finding My Own Way

It was the wedding in Chapel Hill that cemented my resolve to see Emily again. By the time the cake had been cut and the bouquet had been tossed, Emily and I had danced to more songs than I could keep track of. When the band took a break, we stepped out on the balcony for a breath of fresh air. Above us, a big orange moon hung low in the sky, and I could see Emily staring at it with the same sense of wonder I felt.

"I wonder why it's orange," I mused aloud. To my surprise, I heard Emily answer.

"When the moon is low in the sky, the light scatters because it has to pass through more layers of the atmosphere than when it's overhead. By the time the light reaches our eyes, the blue, green, and purple parts of the spectrum have scattered, leaving only yellow, orange, and red visible to us."

"How do you know that?" I marveled, turning to her.

"My dad explained it to me every time we saw one of these," she said, nodding at the glowing orb hovering over the horizon. "I guess over time, it just stuck."

"I'm still impressed."

"Don't be. If you ask me anything else about the night sky other than the location of the Big Dipper, I wouldn't be able to help you. For instance, I know that one or two of those stars out there are probably planets, but I couldn't tell you which ones they are."

Scanning the sky, I pointed. "That one over there, right above the tree? That's Venus."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's brighter than the stars."

She squinted. "Are you sure?"

"No," I admitted and she laughed. "But my dad told me that. He used to wake me in the middle of the night so the two of us could watch meteor showers."