"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.

As for London and me, we'd settled into a steady rhythm. The stitches in her forehead came out and when a follow-up X-ray confirmed there were no broken bones, the splint eventually came off, too. She wasn't ready for her piano lessons yet, but she managed fine in art class. On our next date night, I took her out to a fancy dinner at a place called Fahrenheit, which offered glittering Charlotte city views and elegant handwritten menus the kind of place that Vivian would have loved.

As Halloween approached, I didn't see much of Emily.

For better or for worse, Vivian's comments had gotten to me. While I'd tried to convince myself that our relationship was platonic, I knew it was more than just a friendship. I was definitely attracted to her, and in the evenings, I would find myself staring at the phone and wondering if I was somehow damaging London by wanting to reach out to Emily.

Don't get me wrong. I still called Emily almost every night, unwilling or unable to give up that comforting ritual. But in the back of my mind, I could hear Vivian's voice, and I sometimes hung up feeling confused and guilty. I knew I wasn't ready for a relationship, but was I acting as if I were, by calling so frequently? And what did I really want in the long run when it came to Emily? Could I be content to simply remain friends? Would I be happy for her if she started dating someone else? Or would I feel a twinge at the thought of what might have been, maybe even succumb to jealousy?

Deep down, I knew the answer. Aside from Marge, I considered Emily to be my closest friend... and yet I hadn't told her what Vivian had said. Why couldn't I be honest with her about the conflict roiling within me? Perhaps a part of me felt that I'd been lying to Emily all along about my intentions. I wanted more than friendship. Not now, but down the road.

And as selfish as it may seem, I didn't want to risk losing her before that, which left me even more conflicted about what exactly I should do.

The day before Halloween, I made arrangements to check into a hotel.

Marge and Liz had arrived home from Costa Rica late Wednesday night, and I didn't feel good about hitting them up for a place to stay. Nor did I want to stay with my parents; though I knew they wouldn't have minded, I didn't want them to know about my further deteriorating relationship with Vivian. At London's birthday party, Vivian's cheerful facade had led my mom to pull me aside and try to convince me that Vivian still had feelings for me. That was a conversation I didn't want to face again.

Taglieri texted that Vivian would be arriving early on Friday night, probably around seven, which meant there would be no date night with London. Instead, London and I ate at home. Afterward, she ran up the stairs to check on the hamsters and her fish while I started to clean the kitchen.

I heard Vivian push through the door twenty minutes later.

"Hello!" she sang out. "I'm here!"

My heart started to race as if I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't, simply by being in my own house. Meanwhile, Vivian breezed in like she was the one who still lived here.

Vivian poked her head into the kitchen, looking for London.

"She's in her bedroom," I said. "She ran up there to check on her critters."

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Did she eat?"

I thought you told your attorney that we weren't supposed to communicate directly. But okay, I'll play along. "Yeah, she's had dinner. No bath yet. I didn't know if you were going to take her to a movie or..."

"I haven't decided yet. I'll talk to her." She paused. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," I said, thrown once again by her casual demeanor. "I'm fine. You looking forward to trick-or-treating?"

"It'll be fun. I picked up an amazing costume for London. It's Belle from Beauty and the Beast, but extra glittery."

"She'll love that," I agreed. "She named one of her fish Belle."

"Make sure you come by in time to see it."

"You want me to come by?"

She rolled her eyes, but in them I saw only disbelief, not anger as though I were merely clueless, rather than hateful. "Of course, Russ. She's your daughter. It's Halloween. And besides, you need to be here to hand out candy for the kids who come by the house. What did you think was going on tomorrow night?"

As usual, Vivian had managed to keep me guessing.

I hadn't seen Marge and Liz since London's birthday party, so I swung by my parents' the next afternoon, before the trick-or-treating got underway. I noticed right off that Marge had slimmed down even more. She looked fantastic, but it was on the tip of my tongue to tell her not to lose much more weight, as it might make her face look too severe. Liz, too, looked like she'd shed some pounds, though not as much.

Marge and Liz enveloped me in hugs as soon as I stepped through the door.

"So this is what you look like after a vacation, huh?" I said to Marge, giving a low whistle.

"I know, pretty fab, huh? I weigh as much as I did in college now."

"You look great, too, Liz. Are you sure the two of you weren't secretly at Canyon Ranch the whole time?"

"Thank you. But no," she said. "It was all just good old-fashioned hiking and sightseeing. And like Marge, I kept my servings of rice and beans to a minimum."

"I'm jealous. I've stopped losing weight, even though I'm still running."

"How are things?" Marge asked. "When I talked to Mom last night, she said you landed some new clients? Let's go out back and talk for a while."

"All right. Let me say hi to Mom and Dad and I'll meet you outside in a few."

Visiting with my parents took fifteen minutes Mom didn't bring up the cancer, thank goodness and I found my sister and Liz on the back patio, both of them drinking tall glasses of sweet tea.

For the next hour, we talked about their trip the zip-lines, Arenal volcano, hikes through the cloud forest and near the coast and I caught them up on all that had been going on in my world. Just as that part of the conversation was coming to a close, my mom popped her head out and asked Liz if she'd mind giving her a hand in the kitchen.

"So... you were told you had to communicate through attorneys, but then she showed up at the house and acted as if everything were normal?"

I nodded. "Don't ask me to explain it. I'm just thanking God for small favors."

"What I still don't understand is why Vivian got London for both her birthday and on Halloween. You should get London for some of the fun things, too."

"It's just the way the weekends are falling."

Marge didn't seem satisfied with this explanation, but apparently decided to let it drop. "How do you feel about selling the house?"

"I guess I'm torn. We don't need a place that big to be honest, we never really did but at the same time, there are a lot of memories there. Anyway, I don't have much of a choice. Even though my business is finally taking off, it's not like I'll have enough in the bank to pay Vivian off when we sign the papers." I paused. "It's hard for me to believe it's been almost two months since she walked out the door. In some ways, it seems like yesterday. In other ways, it feels like forever."

"I can't imagine," Marge said. She turned her head and covered her mouth, coughing from somewhere deep in her chest.

"You're still sick?"

"No," she answered. "This is just a remnant from the bronchitis. Apparently it can take the lungs months to heal, even when the inflammation is gone. I felt pretty good in Costa Rica, but right now, I need a vacation from my vacation. Liz kept us on the go the whole time I'm still wiped out. And my knees are killing me from all the hiking."

"Hiking is good exercise, but it's rough on the joints," I conceded.

"Speaking of which, let me know if you and Emily ever want to go hiking with Liz and me. It'll be like old times."

"I will," I said. At my answer, Marge tilted her head.

"Uh-oh. I'm sensing there's trouble in paradise. Is there anything you're not telling me?"

"Not really," I hedged. "I just don't know where the relationship is going."

Marge scrutinized me. "Why can't you just be happy with what you have with her right now? Because it seems to me like she's been a rock to you these past couple of months."

"She has."

"Then just appreciate her for that, and let it be what it's going to be."

I hesitated. "Vivian thinks that hanging out Emily and the kids is confusing to London. And she's right."

Marge made a skeptical face, but in the end she folded her hands on the table and leaned toward me. "So don't bring London and Bodhi," she said pointedly. "Why don't you just try going out with her?"

"Like on a date?"

"Yes," Marge said. "Like a date."

"What about London?"

"Liz and I would be more than happy to babysit. And besides, didn't you just say that London was going to be in Atlanta in a couple of weeks? Seize the day, little brother."

On Halloween night, Vivian was unusually warm, even insisting that she take a photo of me with London on her phone, which she then texted to me right away. I handed out candy to the neighborhood kids. There were so many coming by the house, I sat in the rocking chair on the front porch so I wouldn't have to keep getting up from the couch.

The next morning, I woke to a text from Vivian that said she'd be leaving around six, and could I try to be home by then?

On the way out the door that evening, she pulled me into a hug and whispered to me that I was doing a great job with London.

The first couple of weeks of November blurred together in a string of eighteen-hour days, marked by the routines that had become second nature. I exercised, worked, took care of London who started back with piano lessons cooked, cleaned, and made nightly calls to Emily. Thanks to my new clients, I was so busy that I didn't even have time to swing by my parents the following weekend, nor visit with Marge and Liz even once. A few things from that period do stand out in my memory, however.

The week after Halloween, I had a Realtor come by so I could put the house up for sale. She walked through and asked a lot of questions; toward the end, she suggested that I rearrange the furniture, to show the rooms to better effect. One by one, at her suggestion, the pieces ended up back where Vivian had originally placed them. Before she left, she retrieved a mallet from her car and pounded a bright red realty sign into the yard out front.

The sight of the sign made something sink inside me, and out of instinct, I called Emily. As usual, she brought me back onto solid ground, even encouraging me with the prospect of turning to a fresh page in my life, in a new home. Maybe it was the prospect of Vivian taking London to Atlanta for the weekend, but as the conversation was winding down, I found myself thinking about Marge's suggestion that I ask Emily out. Before I could gather my courage, however, Emily spoke up.

"Russ, I've been meaning to ask you would you like to accompany me to the opening of the art show I told you about? The one that's going to include a few of my paintings?"