“It’s fine. It’s pretty much me showing up and cutting the ribbon. I plan to just fly in Saturday morning and out Sunday,” I tell him and then pull into my parking spot. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Okay,” my brother says and disconnects. He’s in the middle of creating another app. When he does that, he goes into his own mind.

I get out of the car and walk to the elevator, and my fingers move faster than my brain does, and I text Vivienne.

Me: Want to go to New Orleans for the day?

I press send, and then I spot the three bubbles appear and I smile.

Vivienne: I’m in Long Island until Sunday. Maybe next time.

Me: Promise?

Vivienne: Cross my heart.

Me: Good it’s for the 15th, clear your schedule.

Vivienne: Oh, smooth.

I get tired of texting and call her instead, and she answers laughing. “Well, there goes that message.” The sound of her voice has me smiling. “What can I do for you?”

“That has to be a trick question.” I think of her standing in front of me holding the fishbowl and then sitting at the table and not dragging her chair beside me to have her close by. To kiss her neck when I want to. To pick her up and take her to bed with me. “So are you free on the fifteenth?”

“Ma tata.” I hear a small voice in the background, and then I hear her speaking French.

“Oui, ma chérie,” she says, and the way her French comes out and the tone, I stop breathing.

“Vivienne breaks this,” the little voice says again, and I look down, ignoring everything at the moment. I ignore the elevator getting there and closing without me.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll fix it for you,” she says softly, and then I hear her kiss her. “Go get ready for the movie.” She then comes back to me. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of girls’ day.”

“Where are you?” The question comes out right away.

“I’m at Matthew’s house,” she tells me, and I hear her moving. “They left to take Mini Cooper to the rink, so I’m staying with my favorite girls while the smelly boy went to hockey,” she says.

“What time are you coming back?” I ask her, knowing it’s none of my business. “I mean, the fish was asking about you this morning.” Her laughter rips through her.

“Tell Elsa I’ll be back Sunday afternoon.” She chuckles.

“Want to come over for lunch or dinner?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes, wanting to kick myself for sounding so needy, or maybe it’s just me. “If anything, just to make sure the fish is okay.”