A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  “What?” Athen sat up all the way.

  “You could have told me that you and Buddy were more than casual acquaintances.”

  “Now wait just a minute, Meg. How was I supposed to know that your old college chum ‘Buddy’ was the same man who’s been making my life a living hell for the past three months? And for the record, there is nothing between ‘Buddy’ and me. Except maybe animosity and hostility.”

  “Athen, I have known enough men in my life to recognize when a man is dead on his face over another woman.”

  “You are out of your mind.” Athen stared blankly at her sister-in-law.

  “All he wanted to talk about the entire night was you.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Not to mention the fact that there was enough electricity in that little vestibule when I walked downstairs tonight to light half the Christmas trees in Woodside Heights.”

  “Meg, you have the most incredible imagination of anyone I have ever met.” Athen shook her head. “Look, you don’t know what this man has done to me. He goes out of his way to publicly humiliate me every chance he gets. He thinks I’m a political slut, he …”

  “… is fascinated by you.” Meg kicked high heels across the room and made a spot for herself on the bed. “I’m telling you, all night long, one question after another.”

  “Like what?” Athen eyed her suspiciously.

  “Like everything. Everything from how long you and John had been married, to what kind of a deal you made with that ‘scumbag Rossi,’ to …”

  “What?!”

  “Those were his exact words.” Meg nodded.

  “There was no ‘deal,’ Meg. I did this because … because …” Athen was suddenly at a loss. “Because at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. Because I thought I could do something good.”

  “That’s exactly what I told him. I told him you were absolutely incapable of anything that even hinted at being underhanded.” Meg paused. “Athen, do you still think that was the right decision?”

  “I do, and no vague little innuendoes coming from someone who up until six months ago had never set foot in Woodside Heights is going to change my mind.”

  “Buddy thinks Rossi is long on rhetoric and short on accomplishment,” Meg told her. “He also thinks Rossi is into something shady.”

  “Rumors, no substance. Who knows where he gets his information, anyway? And I don’t want to hear another word. I already know what he thinks of me, so let’s just can it.”

  “I just want to say one more thing. I’m really surprised that you have such a closed mind. Buddy has no motivation to go witch-hunting. What possible reason could he have for going after Rossi if there’s nothing there?”

  “Because he … he hates me,” Athen sputtered. “I don’t know why but he does. And because he’s a reporter— reporters are always suspicious of anyone in politics. It’s a prerequisite for the job. And because he’s trying to impress Brenda Chapman.”

  “His stepsister? Why would he care about impressing her?”

  “What?” Athen paused.

  “Brenda is his stepsister.”

  Athen thought it through. “Then Lydia Chapman …”

  “… is his mother.” Meg nodded. “She mentioned she’d met you.”

  “She and her husband hosted the rally the night Rossi nominated me.” Athen’s face flushed at the memory of the cool reception she’d received from Mrs. Chapman, the amused glances from Brenda, Quentin’s insults. “Quentin Forbes is a … a geeky little butthead.”

  Meg hooted. “He’s hardly that, Thena. I think he’s really concerned that …”

  “I could care less what he’s concerned about.” Athen pushed Meg off the bed with her foot. “I am going to sleep now. And hopefully, by the time I wake up tomorrow, I’ll have forgiven you for consorting with the enemy and for bringing that man into my home.”

  “Okay, okay.” Meg stooped to pick up her shoes. “But I would think you’d want to know if there was something going on in which you could eventually be implicated.”

  “There is nothing going on. Nothing. What could be going on?” Athen sat up. “What was he talking about, anyway?”

  “He didn’t get into specifics.”

  “Forbes is blowing smoke, Meg. I am not the least bit concerned about his gossip, and neither should you be. Now go to bed, please.”

  “I’m going.” Meg turned for the door. “But, Athen, maybe you should …”

  “Enough, Meg.” Athen turned her face in her pillow, and for the next several hours fitfully battled the mean demons Meg had brought home with her.

  THE HOLIDAY PASSED WITHOUT FURTHER reminder of the shadow that Quentin Forbes had cast over her. Athen pondered his insinuations as she, Meg, and Callie were on their way to see her father on Christmas morning. It annoyed her that even on this day Quentin Forbes managed to get—and stay—under her skin.

  Unconsciously, she scanned the parking lot for a little blue car, but it was nowhere in sight.

  “Come on, you two,” she commanded her passengers, who were merrily singing carols. Callie insisted on bringing her new iPod and dock to fill her grandfather’s small room with the sounds of the holidays. “Help me, Callie. Meg, you grab that bag.”

  Athen and Callie struggled with an enormous red poinsettia. Ari had always filled their house with them at Christmas, and each year on the holiday she would bring the biggest one she could find to add a touch of cheer to his room.

  She thought he almost smiled at the sight of them, his eyes offering the welcome his voice could not extend, his gaze lingering upon Callie. Athen opened a cardboard box and removed the brass candelabra shaped like a fishing boat that Ari had brought with him from Greece. She placed the candles in their places and lit them, one by one. Her father stared at their lights, and she thought he might be recalling the many Christmases the small boat had seen over the years.

  Next Athen delivered gifts to the nurses’ station, seeking out the ever-faithful Lilly for a special cash gift for all the extra care she showered on Ari.

  “Why, thank you, Mrs. Moran. Thank you for thinking of me.” Lilly smiled. As Athen started back to her room, Lilly added, “Just missed Ms. Bennett. Said she wanted to catch the last service over there at the church but she’d be back.”

  Athen stopped in her tracks.

  “She’s been here already?”

  “Oh, yes. Break of dawn she was here. Brought a special breakfast to share with Mr. Stavros.”

  “Is she here every day?” Athen heard herself ask.

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. Most days twice a day. She sure is devoted to that man, Mrs. Moran.”

  “Yes.” Athen nodded thoughtfully. “It would appear that she is.”

  Athen walked slowly back to Ari’s room, suddenly filled with gratitude that her father had found someone whose devotion and love was so complete that it could survive such tragedy. In the depths of her own sorrow, she had forgotten that such boundless love did indeed exist. She could almost envy Diana, she thought, as she joined the others who were now singing “Away in a Manger” in Ari’s room.

  TWO DAYS LATER, MEG AND Athen were seated in the living room, enjoying the blaze of a dancing fire in the fireplace, listening to the Messiah, and lounging for the first time in months.

  “Athen.”

  She heard Meg, but only barely, having leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  “Athen,” Meg persisted. “I want to talk.”

  “Don’t do it, Meg,” Athen said without opening her eyes. “Don’t even mention his name.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to talk about you.”

  “What about me?” Athen yawned.

  “About your life.”

  “What’s wrong with my life?”

  “Don’t you think it’s time to get John’s toothbrush out of the bathroom?” Meg asked gently.

  Silence.

  “Athen, you can’t spend the rest of your life g
rieving over John.”

  “Meg, please …”

  “No, Athen, I mean it. You’re young, you’re beautiful, you’re bright—though your career path has led me to question that somewhat lately, but we’ll let that ride for now. You can’t wrap yourself in the past, build a shrine to a dead man.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Athen’s head shot up.

  “Look at this house, Athen. You haven’t touched a thing of John’s since the day he died. I’ll bet his clothes are still in the closet.”

  Meg waited, and finally Athen nodded.

  “How long are they going to hang there?”

  “Meg, you’re overstepping the line a bit.” The afternoon’s peace had evaporated.

  “What line? There’s no line. We’re family, and as far as I can see there’s no one else around to tell you what you need to hear.”

  “You don’t know what it’s been like.”

  “Don’t I? Johnny was my brother, my best friend, next to you. He was always there for me, Athen, for as long as I can remember. I could scream with rage every time I think about him dying, and I think about him every day.” Meg’s voice was controlled and calm. “But my life didn’t end with his, and neither should yours.”

  “That’s not quite fair, Meg,” Athen told her. “I’ve come a long way in the past year.”

  “Athen, you have no social life. You go from work to Callie’s school and home and back to work again. You don’t even paint anymore. And how long has it been since you tutored down at the community center? I’ll bet you haven’t even had that new bike out more than five times since you bought it.”

  “Meg, I’m a single working mother. And with all the meetings I attend, I don’t have time for anything else.”

  “Stop hiding behind your job! Don’t you realize that for the past year you’ve done nothing but hide? You’ve hidden inside this house, hidden inside your sorrow, hidden from yourself. Now you’re hiding behind Dan Rossi, and you can’t keep doing that.”

  Meg held her breath, waiting for Athen to explode.

  “Look, Athen, I love you dearly. You’re more than a sister, more than a friend. You can’t spend the rest of your life with nothing more to look forward to than a trip to the cemetery to put flowers on John’s grave.” Meg swallowed hard.

  Still Athen did not respond.

  “Look, there’s a brand-new year starting next week. I know it’s hard, but, Thena, John’s not coming back.”

  “I know.” Athen bit her lip. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Begin by getting this house spruced up. Move the furniture around. Give John’s clothes away. I’ll help you. You can go into the new year on fresh ground.”

  “Okay.” Athen nodded. “You’re right. And next week I’ll …”

  “Forget next week,” Meg told her. “Tomorrow. We’re going to start tomorrow.”

  UPON FIRST SEEING HER FATHER’S clothes removed from the dresser and packed into paper bags, Callie had burst into tears. When Athen explained to her that they would be given to people who really needed them, she brightened.

  “Oh, you mean like the homeless guys who hang around Schuyler Avenue?” Callie asked. “Cool. Dad would have liked his warm things to keep someone else warm.”

  “When were you down on Schuyler Avenue?” Athen folded shirts and placed them in a bag.

  “Last week when Julie’s mom took us to the movies, we had to detour around Third Street. There were all these people hanging out around the big church on the corner, and Julie’s mom said they were all homeless.” She picked through a pile of sweatshirts. “Can I keep some of these?”

  “You may keep all of them if you want.” Athen smiled.

  “Well, I think I’ll just keep a few. I have warm shirts of my own.” She thumbed through the pile, selecting several that had been particular favorites of John’s. “Maybe I should go through my stuff, too, Mom. There were a lot of little kids with their moms outside that church. It made me feel real sad. Maybe you should clean out your own closet and we could send lots of stuff down. Ms. Evelyn said … “

  “Where’d you see Ms. Evelyn?” Athen stuck a stack of brand-new wool socks into the bag.

  “She was outside the church. I ran over to see her but Julie’s mom made me come right back.”

  “What was Ms. Evelyn doing down there?” White undershirts, still in their wrappings from last fall, followed the socks.

  “She does volunteer work there. She cooks at dinnertime. She said the situation is getting out of hand.”

  “What is getting out of hand?” Meg carried an empty box into the room. “What do you think, Thena? Shoes, belts in here?”

  Athen nodded.

  “Ms. Evelyn says there are too many people out of work and more mouths to feed at the church than she can deal with.” Callie gathered up the shirts she had selected. “I’m going to clean out my dresser. Then we’ll have lots of things to take down to the church and Ms. Evelyn will be happy.”

  “Spoken like a budding social activist.” Meg smiled.

  “Frankly, I’ve been concerned about the situation myself. Here, give me a hand with these suits …”

  Callie came back in for some plastic bags, and then dragged them, filled, to the bottom of the steps.

  “I’m going over to Julie’s, Mom,” Callie called up the stairwell. “She’s going to clean out her closets, too.”

  “While you finish up that last shelf there”—Meg motioned to the closet—“I’ll go downstairs and make us some lunch. We should be just about ready to take this stuff to wherever it is you want it to go.”

  Athen was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back against the bed, when Meg came in twenty minutes later.

  “Hey, are you deaf? I’ve been calling you.” Meg paused in the doorway. “Honey, are you all right?”

  Athen looked up at her with a white tear-stained face, her bottom lip quivering. The pale gray sheet of paper in her hand rustled, her hands were shaking so.

  “What is it?” Meg knelt down and gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

  Without a word, Athen passed the letter in her hand to a puzzled Meg, who scanned it quickly.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed with only mild interest. “Where’d you find this?”

  “On a shelf at the back of John’s closet.” Athen stretched her arm for the tissue box. “There’s a whole box of them.”

  “Athen, don’t tell me this is bothering you? A letter from John’s old girlfriend that was written sixteen years ago?”

  Athen nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t you realize John saved every letter she ever wrote to him? I had no idea they were there.” Athen blew her nose.

  “So what?”

  “So don’t you know what that means?”

  “It means it was a time in his life that was important to him.”

  “It means more than that.” Athen sniffed. “It means he probably never stopped loving her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “How could he have? I mean, Dallas MacGregor is every man’s fantasy. How could I have thought I could step into her place in John’s life?”

  “You didn’t,” Meg said bluntly, “nor should you have expected to.”

  “Thank you, oh, so very much.”

  “Thena, you had your own place in John’s life. The fact that he once loved someone else …”

  “Not just someone else, Meg. Dallas MacGregor. How would you feel, marrying a man who had been love with a woman who looks like that? A huge movie star—a real star—for God’s sake …”

  “I’d feel damn flattered.” Meg crossed her arms. “And it’s not as if you hadn’t known about John’s relationship with her. Why, all of a sudden, is it bothering you?”

  “I guess because I hadn’t realized he’d cared enough to save all these,” Athen whispered.

  “Look, John and Dallas were together all through college. But he always knew where she was
headed. She was always up front that after college she was taking off for California. I don’t think he really understood that all she ever wanted was to be a movie star, that she wasn’t about to let a little thing like love stand in her way. Two days after graduation, it was ‘Adiόs, John. Buenos días, L.A.’”

  Athen recalled how John had withdrawn that summer, how subdued he’d seemed when she would visit the usually bustling Moran house. He had asked her out for the first time the following Christmas, taking her to a party at his old fraternity house at Rutgers. A huge photograph hanging over the bar in a downstairs room had stopped John cold as he entered the room. BOUND FOR GLORY exclaimed the sign above the photo of Dallas—Dallas with the platinum hair and the perfect face, eyes to die for, not blue, not gray, but true lavender.

  “Athen.” Meg drew her attention from the long forgotten image. “What difference does any of this make? John loved you, he married you.”

  “On the rebound, apparently.” She glumly reached for another tissue.

  “Now why would you say that?” Meg lowered herself to the floor beside Athen. “Athen, we humans are amazingly fortunate. We have the ability to fall in love, to fall out of love, to fall in love again. And again. And even again.”

  “I never fell out of love with John. And apparently he never stopped loving Dallas.”

  “Just because she’s gorgeous and famous, you think he carried a torch for her for the rest of his life?”

  Athen shook her head, unable to share the memory that flashed suddenly, painfully before her eyes. The look on John’s face when he came home one night to find Athen waiting up for him, deeply engrossed in Lucinda’s Pride on the VCR, the movie for which Dallas had received an Academy Award nomination. He had retreated suddenly from the room, and Athen had known at once where he had gone all those times he would almost seem to disappear before her eyes, his face taking on a faraway look as he mentally vanished to some secret room inside himself, a room she’d never been invited to enter.

  “Don’t make more out of this than what it is,” grumbled Meg. “Good grief, I have been in and out of love with so many men in my lifetime. Well, at least, I believed I was in love with each one of them at the time. Then again, sometimes I wonder if I ever loved any of them.” She smiled wryly. “But John loved you enough to marry you, produce the world’s most remarkable child, and live, as I recall, a pretty damned happy life with you.”