"Yeah," I said. "Let me finish, okay?" I drew a breath and launched into a description of what had happened. Surprising me, she didn't interrupt, nor did she raise her voice. But her breathing was ragged and erratic, and when I was done, I could tell she'd begun to cry.

"And you're sure she's okay? You're not just saying that?"

"I promise. Like I said, I'll get you on the phone with her in just a minute. I stepped out of the room to call you."

"Why didn't you call me earlier?"

"I should have and I'm sorry. I was in such a panic that I wasn't thinking straight."

"No, I get it. I... um..." She hesitated. "Hold on a second, okay?"

It was more than a second; I was on hold for almost a minute before she finally came back on the line. "I'm heading to the airport now. I want to be with her tonight."

I was about to tell her that there was no need for her to come, but if our positions were reversed, I know I would have moved mountains to reach London.

"Can I talk to her now?"

"Of course," I said. I walked back down the hallway and entered London's room. Handing over the phone, I watched London press the phone close to her ear, but I could still make out what Vivian was saying.

She never mentioned me; her focus was entirely on London. Toward the end, I heard Vivian ask to speak to me again. This time, I didn't feel the need to leave the room.

"Hey there," I said.

"She sounds good," Vivian said with palpable relief. "Thanks for putting her on. I'm in the car now and should be there in less than a couple of hours."

Thanks to Spannerman's private jet, no doubt. Which was no doubt the reason she'd put me on hold earlier. So she could ask him.

"I'll be here. Let me know when you land."

"Will do."

Vivian texted when she touched down. For a moment I wondered whether my family should stick around, but then I chided myself. London was in the hospital, and they would stay until visiting hours were over. Because that's what family was supposed to do. End of subject.

However, I suspected that my family harbored a natural curiosity regarding Vivian. My parents hadn't seen her for over a month since the day London started school and it had been even longer for Marge and Liz. I'm sure they were wondering whether the new Vivian differed from the one they'd known for years. And how, of course, we would all treat each other.

A nurse came in to check London's vitals; the doctor followed and asked London questions again. Though my daughter's voice was weak, she answered them correctly. He told us that he would continue to monitor her condition regularly for the next few hours. When he left, I found a channel on the TV that was showing Scooby-Doo. Though London was watching, she looked as though she might soon fall asleep.

Vivian arrived a few minutes later. In faded jeans that were torn at the knees, black sandals and a thin black sweater, she was her usual chic self, though she looked harried.

"Hey everyone," she said, sounding out of breath and distracted. "I got here as fast as I could."

"Mommy!"

She rushed to London, covering her with kisses. "Oh, sweetie... you were in an accident, huh?"

"I have a cut on my forehead."

Vivian took a seat beside London, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "I know. Your dad told me. I'm glad you were wearing a helmet."

"Me, too," she said.

Vivian planted another kiss on the top of her head. "Let me say hi to everyone, okay? And then I want to sit with you for a while."

"Okay, Mommy."

Rising from the bed, she approached my parents. Right away, she embraced them, as well as Marge and Liz. I realized later that I'd only ever seen her touch Marge and Liz a few times in my life. To my amazement, she wrapped me in a brief hug as well.

"Thank you all so much for coming," she said. "I know it made London feel better to have you all here."

"Of course," my mom answered.

"She's a tough little girl," my dad pronounced.

"Visiting hours are almost over," Marge said. "So Liz and I are going to take off. We'll let the three of you visit for a while."

"Us, too," my dad nodded. "We'll leave you alone."

I watched as they gathered their things and then followed them into the hallway. Like Vivian, I hugged them all and thanked them for coming. In their eyes, I could see the questions they wanted to ask but didn't. Even if they had asked, I doubt that I would have had any answers.

Returning to the room, I saw that Vivian was perched beside London on the bed. London was telling her about the car that backed out and how the sunscreen had made her handlebars slippery.

"It must have been scary."

"It was very scary. But I don't remember after that."

"You were very brave."

"Yeah, I am." I had to smile at her matter-of-factness. Then: "I'm glad you're here, Mommy."

"I am too. I had to come because I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Vivian lay down next to London on the bed and slipped her arm around her, both of them watching Scooby-Doo. I took a seat in the chair and watched them, relieved, somehow, that Vivian had come. Not simply for London's sake, but because a part of me still wanted to believe in Vivian's goodness, despite all she'd done to me.

Observing the two of them, I did believe in that goodness and I also noted Vivian's forlorn expression, recognizing how hard it was for her to be separated from London. I sensed her anguish at being so far away when the accident had happened, despite how quickly she'd been able to get here.

I could see London's eyelids drooping, and rising from the chair, I crossed the room and turned out the light. Vivian offered me the slightest of smiles, and I was struck by the melancholy thought that the last time that the three of us had been alone together in a hospital room, London was not yet a day old. On that day, I would have sworn on my life that the three of us would always be united in the love we felt for each other. We were a family then, the three of us together. But it was different now and I sat in the darkness wondering if Vivian felt the loss as deeply as I did.

Midmorning the next day, London was discharged from the hospital. I'd already called the school and the piano teacher, explaining her absence and canceling her lessons for the week. I also let London's teacher know that she shouldn't be active at recess once she returned to school. Thankfully, the nurses had given me some disinfectant wipes to clean the backseat of the car, because I hadn't wanted London to see the bloody mess.

As I signed the discharge papers, I glanced over at Vivian, noticing how tired she looked. Neither of us had slept much; throughout the night, the nurses and doctor had come into the room to check on London, waking all three of us in the process. London, I assumed, would sleep for most of the day.

"I was wondering," Vivian said, sounding uncharacteristically tentative, "if I could come back to the house for a while. So I can spend some more time with London. Would you mind?"

"Not at all," I said. "I'm sure London would like that."

"I'm probably going to need a nap and a shower, too."

"That sounds fine," I said. "When do you have to go back?"

"I'm flying out tonight. Walter and I have to be in DC tomorrow. More lobbying."

"Always busy," I remarked.

"Too busy, sometimes."

I analyzed her comment on the drive home, wondering at the hint of weariness in her tone. Was she just tired, or was the jet-set lifestyle beginning to feel less exciting than it once had?

It was a mistake to try to read meaning into every word, tone, and nuance, I told myself. What had Emily said to me? If it comes, let it come. If it stays, let it stay. If it goes, let it go.

When we reached the house, I carried London inside. She'd already begun to doze off, and I brought her straight up to her bedroom. Vivian followed us up and after I got London tucked in bed, I watched as Vivian went to the guest room. Though I'm sure she noticed that I'd rearranged the furniture, she said nothing to me about it.

My car was too small to load my bike in the trunk, but I squeezed London's bike into the back. Someone had leaned the bikes against the mailbox. I drove London's bike home, put on my running gear, and ran back to the same mailbox. It was while grabbing mine that I saw the blood that had dried on the asphalt and my stomach did a flip-flop. I rode my bike home, went for a run, and took a cooling shower. Both London and Vivian were still sleeping, so I went back to the bedroom for a nap. I drew the shades and slept like the dead.

When I awoke, I found Vivian and London watching a movie in the family room. Though wearing the same clothes she'd arrived in, Vivian had showered, the tips of her hair still wet, and London was curled up next to her on the sofa. On the coffee table were the remains of London's snack turkey and pear slices most of which she had eaten.

"How are you feeling, London?'

"Good," she said, without looking up.

"How did you sleep?" Vivian asked.

I was struck by how ordinary she sounded.

"Well. I needed it." I motioned to the plate. "I know London just had a snack, but what are you thinking for dinner? Do you want me to make something?"

"I think it might be easier if we just order something, don't you? Unless you're really in the mood to cook."

I wasn't. "Chinese?"

She squeezed London closer to her. "Do you want Chinese food for dinner?"

"Okay," London said, still absorbed in the movie. The bandage on her head, along with the splint on her arm, made me wince.

Though I wanted to visit with London part of me wondered whether she was angry with me for what had happened I didn't want to do anything that might upset the detente that seemed to currently exist between Vivian and me. Instead, I went to the kitchen and ate a banana, then wandered to the computer in the den, trying to lose myself in work but feeling distinctly unfocused. In time, I called the Chinese restaurant and went to pick up the food.

We ate on the back porch, just like old times. Afterward, London took a bath and dressed in her pajamas. As bedtime approached, Vivian and I slipped into our familiar roles she read first, followed by me. But when I finally came back downstairs, Vivian had already shouldered her handbag and was waiting near the door.

"I need to get going," she said. Did I detect a hint of resignation in her voice? I reminded myself again that it was pointless to read anything into it.

"I figured."

She adjusted the strap of her handbag, as if stalling would help her find the words she needed. "I noticed that you rearranged the house and took a lot of the photos down. The ones that included me, I mean. I was going to say something earlier, but I didn't think it was the right time."

For whatever reason, I didn't want to admit that I'd done so in a fit of anger. But I didn't feel I was wrong, either; I knew I would do the same thing again.

"Like you, I'm just trying to move forward," I stated. "But I put some of the family photos in her room. Because we'll always be her parents."

"Thank you," she said. "That was thoughtful of you."

"I put the other photos in a box if you want to bring them with you. There are some fantastic ones of you and London."

"That would be great."

I went to the closet and retrieved the box; as I held it beneath my arm, her eyes flashed to the photos. I felt acutely, perhaps more than ever, that our era as a couple had really and truly come to an end, and I had the sense she was thinking the same thing.

"Let me get my keys and I'll put this in the trunk," I said.

"I can carry it," she said, reaching for the box. "You don't need to drive me. There's a car waiting out front."

I handed it over. "A car?"

"It's not like we can leave London here alone, right?"

Right, I thought, wondering how I'd overlooked something so elementary. Being around Vivian a Vivian who reminded me of the woman I had married, the very same Vivian with whom I had no future seemed to have thrown me.

"All right, then," I said. I put a hand in my pocket. "About this weekend," I started, "and me having to stay at Marge's or my parents'..."

"You don't have to," she said, cutting me off. "I realized today that there's no reason for you to do that. It's not fair to you. I'll just stay in the guest room if that's okay."

"It's fine," I said.

"But you know I still want to spend as much time with London as I can. Just the two of us. I know that may not seem fair, but right now, I really don't want to confuse her."

"Of course," I said. "That makes sense."

She shifted the box beneath her arm and I wondered whether to offer a hug or a kiss on the cheek. As if anticipating my action, she turned toward the door.

"I'll see you in a few days," she said. "And I'll call London tomorrow."

"Sounds good," I said, opening the door for her. Behind her, idling on the street, was a limousine. Vivian started toward it and I watched as the driver quickly exited the car to help her carry the box. He opened the door and put the box on the seat. Vivian waited for him to move aside, then got into the car. I couldn't help thinking that it all seemed as natural as breathing for her as though she'd always had a car and driver, had always been the lover of a billionaire.

I couldn't see her through the darkened glass of the car and I wondered whether she was watching me, but in the end, I simply turned away. Stepping into the house, I closed the door behind me, feeling strangely sad.

For a moment I hesitated. Then I reached for my phone.

Emily answered on the second ring.

We were on the phone for nearly two hours. Though I did most of the talking, working through my sense of loss, she managed to make me smile and laugh more than once. And every time I wondered aloud if I was a good person, she assured me that I was blameless. I needed to hear that, somehow, and when I finally turned in for the night, I closed my eyes wondering how I'd been lucky enough to rediscover Emily, who was exactly the kind of friend I needed most.

CHAPTER 20.