A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  It’s always easier to find someone else to blame than to blame ourselves. Maybe I should be thanking him, she mused, since it was his harassment that prodded me into wanting to be more informed.

  And just look where that’s gotten me, she ruefully reminded herself.

  “Athen?” Diana stopped her car parallel to the bench where Athen sat.

  “Hey, Diana.” Athen waved.

  Diana parked the car and walked to the pond on high navy heels that clicked on the asphalt. She wore a navy linen suit with a silk shirt the color of wheat, like her hair. As always, Diana looked like she’d stepped from the pages of a magazine.

  “How are you?” Athen asked as Diana approached on the bench.

  “How are you is the question.” Diana removed her sunglasses. “I heard you were very sick.”

  “I’m better,” Athen told her truthfully. “I think I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Your father will be so relieved,” Diana told her. “He’s been so worried about you. Your health, of course, first and foremost, but everything else that’s going on has him very concerned.”

  “How can you tell?” Athen asked.

  “We communicate quite well, your father and I.” Diana smiled. “I read the paper with him every afternoon, and we watch the news on TV in the evening. It’s not difficult to tell when he’s upset, when he’s amused. It’s all still there in his eyes.”

  Remarkable, Athen thought. How was it that Diana saw so much that she had not seen?

  “I’m glad I decided to come out today,” Athen said. “I don’t want him to worry about me.”

  “He’s very upset about what Rossi is doing,” Diana told her. “Ari’d break his neck if he could.”

  “That makes me feel so bad, after all the years they were such close friends.” It was so depressing to think that she was the cause of her father’s ill feelings toward his old companion.

  “Who were such close friends?” Diana frowned.

  “My dad and Dan.” Athen ground the heel of one sneakered foot into the stones at the base of the bench.

  “Where did you ever get that idea?” Diana laughed scornfully.

  “Why, Dad’s known him forever. They served on Council together. They campaigned for each other.”

  “All true. But whoever told you that they were friends?”

  “Why, Dan did. But I remember Dan coming to the hospital the night my father had the stroke. He was so kind.”

  “That SOB just couldn’t wait to see if it was really true,” Diana growled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Athen, your father’s stroke was the best thing that ever happened to Dan Rossi,” Diana replied bitterly.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Ari worked with Dan for years, but they hated each other. Your father ranked Dan right up there with Mussolini and Vlad the Impaler.”

  “What?” Athen’s eyes widened with shock. “Why?”

  “Ari always suspected Dan took kickbacks, but he could never prove it. There’s no question your father was on to something right before he had the stroke,” Diana related bluntly. “Like I said, Ari’s stroke was the best thing that ever happened to Dan. It shut Ari up for good.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Athen gasped.

  “Oh, it’s true enough. The last conversation I had with Ari on the day he had the first stroke was at about nine in the morning. He was railing about something Dan had done, and said he was meeting with him later in the morning and that he was going to put a stop to it.”

  “Put a stop to what?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea. I knew Ari was watching him. I think Dan knew it, too. Whatever it was that set your father off that day must have happened early on.”

  “He didn’t give you any clue?”

  “He didn’t have a chance. At eleven o’clock I got a call that he’d been rushed to the hospital.”

  “What did he say, that morning on the phone, do you remember?” Athen prodded.

  “Of course. He said, ‘I see he’s gone too far this time.’ Then he said he was going to meet with Dan and that he’d tell me about it over dinner.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Before I got into this mess with Rossi?” Athen was horrified.

  “I don’t recall that you asked for my advice,” Diana reminded her pointedly.

  “Well, that was obviously my first mistake.” Athen reached into the bag at her feet and took out her half-empty bottle of water. She opened it and took a drink. “Why would Dan even want me around if he and my dad hated each other so much?”

  “You have to be kidding.” Diana laughed. “My dear Athen, you were the perfect choice. Widow of the city’s own dead hero. Daughter of the city’s most popular Council member, and as a bonus, politically naïve to boot. You weren’t even aware that your own father wanted to bring Dan down. And who else could have held the line on the Greek vote?”

  “Oh, God, I wish I’d known.” Athen closed her eyes and tried to imagine how her father must have felt, being forced to watch in silence as his daughter made camp with his enemy. “I’ll bet it just about killed Dad to have me so close to Dan for the past six months.”

  “It was tough for him, I’m not going to lie. But he’s kept an eye on you,” Diana assured her.

  “How?”

  “Through me. You must know how proud he is that you finally defied Dan. I think Ari knew all along it was only a matter of time before you caught on.”

  “How does he know?”

  “We watch the noontime news together. Last week, we saw you with Ms. Evelyn on Fourth Street. You should have seen your father’s eyes, watching you.” Diana smiled. “It was the best therapy he could possibly have.”

  “How could Dad have known that Dan told me not to go?”

  “It was obvious. Dan has been sitting on those properties for three years now. If they weren’t important to him somehow, he’d have given them to the UCC himself, if for no other reason than the publicity he’d get, not to mention the votes.”

  “I wonder what he’s got in mind.”

  “Whatever it is, you can be sure that Dan will profit royally from it,” Diana said. “Well, maybe in time you can flush him out.”

  “What do you mean, in time? I’m out of time,” Athen stated flatly.

  “Athen, you have over a year left on your term,” Diana reminded her.

  Athen averted her gaze to the ducks who dove for treats pitched by the children across the pond.

  “Has he threatened you?” Diana demanded.

  “Not with bodily harm. But he’s made it clear that if I stay, I’ll be nothing more than his whipping post until the primary.”

  “Tell me what you plan to do now.” Leaning back against the bench, Diana crossed first her arms, then her legs. A shoe slipped off to dangle from the toes of one foot.

  “I don’t see where I have any option but to go to Ms. Evelyn and tell her I can’t help her.”

  “You mean back down? Let Rossi toss you out like last week’s papers?”

  “I don’t see where I have a choice.”

  “That’s exactly what he wants you to think. Don’t let him bully you like that.”

  “Diana, Wolmar’s right. Only Council can direct the title transfer. I acted stupidly.”

  “Then put the issue on the back burner until you have enough votes in your pocket to win.”

  “Are you crazy? I have no votes. I’ve never had any votes. Dan has all the votes.” How, Athen wondered, could someone so politically astute be so blind to the obvious?

  “Not necessarily,” Diana replied with a level gaze.

  “How do you figure?”

  “It takes a majority to pass a motion. Four Council votes, the mayor votes in case of tie, right?”

  “There wouldn’t be a tie, Diana.” Athen fought to control the exasperation welling up within her.

  “You concede too quickly,” Diana insisted.

&
nbsp; “Diana, I wouldn’t even have one vote …”

  “Of course you would. Konstantos is first a Greek. His loyalty is to Ari, and therefore to you,” Diana pointed out.

  “So that’s one vote.” Athen held up one finger.

  “Athen, it’s time you learned to play the game.”

  “I don’t think I want to play the game.”

  “That’s exactly what Dan is counting on. He turns up the heat, you run from the kitchen. Don’t give him that satisfaction.”

  “What would you do?” Athen leaned one elbow on the back of the bench and turned sideways to face Diana.

  “I’d play from my strength,” Diana said as if stating the obvious.

  “I have no strength.” Athen laughed ruefully.

  “You have one definite ally in Konstantos, and one potential one.” Diana held up two fingers.

  “Who?”

  “Riley Fallon.”

  “How do you figure? Dan himself appointed Fallon to Council after Bill Saunders died. I can’t think of any power on this earth that could turn Riley against Dan.”

  “Then perhaps you’ll have to appeal to an unearthly power.”

  “You mean pray?”

  “Athen, Riley Fallon is engaged to Georgia Davison,” Diana said, the emphasis on the woman’s last name.

  “So?” Athen asked blankly.

  “Georgia’s father is the Reverend Ralph Davison. Of the AME Church of the Brethren.” Diana paused meaningfully.

  “Okay, I see the connection with the church, but I can’t call Reverend Davison and say, ‘I need the vote of your future son-in-law if you want that shelter.’”

  “Of course not. You wouldn’t be that obvious.” Diana smiled. “You would go to Ms. Evelyn—who, of course, is a member of Reverend Davison’s church—and you’d tell her how sorry you are, but it looks as if you might not be able to deliver those properties to the UCC after all. You tell her you simply don’t have the votes, that you need at least one more and you just can’t see how that will happen.”

  “Assuming that I was interested in doing this, what good would that do?”

  “Ms. Evelyn is a highly creative lady,” Diana assured her. “She’s not likely to sit by idly while her vision of a shelter is in jeopardy. She’ll think of something.”

  “You think she could?”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind. Think it over, Athen. What have you got to lose?” Diana looked at her watch. “Good grief, I’m late. Go see your dad, Athen, but don’t let him suspect for one minute that you’d let Rossi back you down. Give me a call. We’ll talk more if you like.”

  “Thank you, Diana.”

  Diana flew back to her car, leaving Athen alone to ponder the possibilities.

  “PATERAS.” ATHEN ENTERED THE COOL room, and her father’s anxious eyes followed her. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you for a while, but I caught a devil of a cold wandering around Fourth Street in the rain last week. I’m much better today.

  “Papa, Dan is very angry with me for going there, and for saying I thought the shelter should be permitted, but it was worth it. It was the right thing to do. And maybe, just maybe, between now and next year, I can make something good out of this mess I’ve gotten into.”

  She took his hands and held them, looking into his eyes. As Diana had predicted, she saw worry fade away and pride take its place.

  “Diana thinks I can do it, Papa. She’s helping me to sort things out.” She bit her lip, not bothering to blink back the tears she knew would soon begin to fall. “I wish I’d known her all these years. She is so clever, and so wonderful. I know now why you love her. I’m more sorry than I can tell you for not making it easier for you. Please forgive me. It should never have taken this long for Diana and me to be friends. We both love you so much.”

  Father and daughter sat silently, both in tears, both in total understanding of one another. It had been a long time since they had been in such accord. Diana had been right. It was all still there in Ari’s eyes. Athen had been blind not to have seen for herself.

  “And something else, Papa,” she told him as she wiped first his wet face and then her own. “If I had known about Dan, how you and he really felt about each other, I never would have gotten into this.”

  Ari’s eyes narrowed at the sound of his old enemy’s name.

  “Diana told me that there’d been problems between you and Dan, but he never let on. Dan told me you were close friends. I guess he thought if I didn’t know the truth, it would serve his purpose better,” she thought aloud, still digesting this recent news. “I wish I knew what you know. I wish you could tell me. But maybe, before all this is over, Diana and I can piece it together.”

  She grinned. “And wouldn’t that be something, Ari’s girls ganging up on Dan to bring him down.”

  A look of anxiety crossed her father’s face.

  “Oh, no, don’t worry,” she quickly assured him. “We will be very careful, I promise. I may have been very foolish over the past few months, but I promise, I will be very cautious from here on.”

  She deliberately changed the subject then, bringing him up-to-date on Callie’s latest scholastic and athletic accomplishments. Before long she found herself talking about Quentin, how confused she was about him, how a part of her wanted to trust him, and yet at the same time feared the hand offered in friendship might be a ruse to use her, as Dan had.

  “On the one hand,” she said, “I respect Quentin. He did apologize, and when I pressed, he said very honestly he could not promise to never write an unfavorable story about me again. If he’d been trying to win my trust at any cost, he’d have agreed to write only articles that would cast me in a favorable light, don’t you think?”

  It could all be so confusing sometimes, she confided, knowing who and what to take chances on.

  “In case you are wondering,” she told her father as she was leaving, “if Dan wants me out before next year, if he wants the office back, he’s going to have to take it from me.”

  16

  Athen dressed more carefully than usual the next morning, deciding on a crisp black and white linen dress and black high heels that made her appear even taller than she was. She slipped on large gold button earrings and her gold watch. Standing back to inspect her appearance, she tried to put her finger on what, exactly, was wrong with the picture.

  “It’s the hair,” she said aloud, standing in front of her dresser mirror. “I have too much hair. Long and straight may be fine for Callie, but it doesn’t do much for me if I want to say I mean business.”

  She tried wrapping it in a bun, but there was simply too much of it. Never having been much of a hairstylist, she was all thumbs, but eventually decided to braid it and wrap the long braid at the nape of her neck.

  “Not perfect, but neater, and certainly more professional. And as Meg would say, image is everything.”

  She was in the building by eight o’clock, at her desk with coffee she’d prepared by 8:10, long before anyone else would arrive. As she’d suspected, the mail, which should have been piled ceiling high after a week’s absence, was nowhere to be seen. Her desk was perfectly clean, and she steamed with every minute that passed until Edie arrived—late, naturally—at nine thirty.

  Hearing Edie’s banter with Rose at the other end of the hall, Athen went to the door of her office and leaned back against it.

  “Good morning, Edie.” She forced herself to be pleasant.

  “Oh, Athen.” Edie was visibly rattled to see her. “What are you … I mean, when did you …?”

  “Yes, I’m much better, thank you. Nice of you to ask. And yes, it’s good to be back.” Athen attempted to smile though her jaws were clenched. “Edie, where’s the mail?”

  “The mail?” Edie repeated nervously.

  “My mail, Edie, the mail that comes addressed to this office every day. …”

  “I—I took the mail home … to … sort it for you.” The woman stammered.

  “Then I trust
you brought it back.” Athen fixed her gaze on Edie’s face, which had developed a sudden tic.

  “I … no … I guess I forgot it.”

  “Then you’ll have to go back home and get it.” Athen turned for her office. “I’ll just be in here waiting, Edie. It shouldn’t take you more than, what, twenty minutes, thirty at the most, to go home and back again?”

  Athen closed the door behind her, congratulating herself on her performance. She glanced at her watch. By now Edie would be in Jim Wolmar’s office, calling Dan and asking him what to do. And what instructions would he give her? Ignore Athen? Tell her it was stolen? Tell her the truth?

  Athen began to pace. She wanted to call Ms. Evelyn, wanted to sit down and talk with her as soon as possible. Of course, Dan would know immediately. Edie would make sure of that the minute Ms. Evelyn arrived and the door closed behind them. It would be better for Athen to go to Ms. Evelyn.

  Maybe I should call her now and meet with her tonight. But if she’s not there and I have to leave a message, Edie will answer the phone when she calls back and report the call.

  “Damn it,” Athen muttered, “this is ridiculous. I have an assistant who is working for the enemy, who will without doubt be reporting every move I make from here on, just as she has been doing all along.”

  Athen sat at her desk and tapped a thoughtful finger on the leather blotter. Maybe it was time Edie got a transfer.

  She searched her desk for the interoffice phone list, then scanned the names and circled the number she wanted. As she lifted the receiver, she realized that she was smiling.

  “Veronica? This is Athen Moran. Much better, thank you.” Athen leaned back in her chair. “Veronica, I want you to clean your desk of all your personal belongings and come up here to my office as soon as possible. Of course you’re not being fired. You’ve just been promoted.”

  Edie had squawked like a wounded crow when she arrived upstairs—without the mail—to find her things in a box on a chair near the elevator and Veronica happily unpacking her family photos at Edie’s old desk. Edie had been even more incensed when Athen told her she’d arranged for her transfer to the Public Works garage, where she’d have a nice desk right next to the storage room. Edie stomped and cursed and ran, no doubt, directly to Dan. Athen wondered how long it would take before the phone rang.