A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  Exactly seven minutes passed before Veronica appeared in the doorway.

  “Mr. Rossi’s on the phone, Mrs. M., and he doesn’t sound happy.”

  “Good morning, Dan,” Athen said evenly, hoping to hang on to the confidence she’d felt since she’d awakened that day.

  “You think Edie’s the only person I have to rely on?” He skipped the pleasantries and cut to the chase.

  “Certainly not,” she replied calmly. “But at least I know I’ll get my phone calls and my mail.”

  He laughed. “It won’t be that easy to get around me, Athen.”

  “I don’t expect it to be easy, Dan.”

  “Pack it up, Athen, there’s nothing for you in City Hall,” he taunted. “Just what do you think you’re going to accomplish, besides pissing me off even more than you already have? I’d quit while I was ahead if I were you. There’s no place for you to go except down.”

  She took a deep breath and reached for the trump.

  “Mary Jo Dolan.”

  A long moment passed. “What about her?” he asked cautiously.

  “By noon today I want her car keys on my desk.” Closing her eyes, she took another deep breath. “And I want her at her desk in Personnel at twelve oh three.”

  She waited. There was no pretense offered. It was clear he knew exactly which keys to which car she referred.

  “Just what do you think you’re going to do?”

  “I haven’t decided. I haven’t had time to think about it,” she told him with more nonchalance than she felt. She waited for the other shoe to drop, as she knew it eventually would.

  “I suggest you think very long and very hard, Athena. You may well be lighting a fire you will be unable to put out.” The menace was undisguised.

  “By noon, Dan,” she repeated coolly. “And certainly the city will expect to be reimbursed for the premiums paid for her vehicle’s insurance over the past four years, as well as the mileage.”

  She mentally patted herself on the back for her clear thinking. “And of course we’ll want reimbursement of the wages she was paid beyond the normal six-month short-term disability she was entitled to. I’m assuming she can produce a letter from her doctor confirming the nature of her illness.”

  Athen twirled a paper clip on the end of a pencil, suddenly feeling a bit jaunty herself.

  Dan swore a blue streak. She ignored him.

  “And it goes without saying that if she fails to report for work, she will no longer be paid.”

  He muttered one last obscenity before slamming down the receiver. The gauntlet had hit the ground.

  It was then she realized that she was sweating, the palms of both hands as well as her face clammy in the air-conditioned room.

  “I did it.” She waited for a bolt of lightning to crash through the wall and strike her down. “Oh, my God, I did it.”

  Rossi had been incensed, enraged. But at exactly noon, Veronica walked into Athen’s office, two keys dangling from a chain held between her thumb and index finger, a silly grin on her face.

  “Yo, Mrs. M., you’re not going to believe who just turned in her car. …”

  17

  Athen, it’s good to see you up and about and looking fit again. Though your color could be better.” Ms. Evelyn squinted at Athen through the bright glare of the early morning sun. “You’re still a little pale. And aren’t you up early for a Saturday morning? Now, where’s that young gal of yours today?”

  “She had a girlfriend over to spend the night last night, and I suspect they stayed up quite late,” Athen explained, “since they were both out cold when I left the house.”

  “You be sure to tell her I was asking after her.” Ms. Evelyn removed her glasses and wiped them clean on the tail of her red-and-white-striped shirt. “And be sure to tell her in another month I’ll have some choice plants from my own fields for her garden. Second-year plants, so they won’t be too expensive. There’s a bumper crop of some varieties I know John was partial to.”

  “I’ll be sure to bring her back,” Athen promised.

  “Now, then, what would you be needing today? Too early for perennials, I guess you know that. Unless you’re looking for some primrose, or maybe some pansies.”

  Ms. Evelyn pointed to the flats of gaily colored flowers that sat outside the greenhouse door.

  “I believe I do have some flowering bulbs left over from Easter—tulips, daffodils, hyacinths—but other than that …” She stopped as if pondering what else she might have to offer.

  “Umm … maybe some of the gold, ah … primroses.” Athen hoped the plants she pointed to were, in fact, primroses. “And some of those dark blue and yellow …”

  “The pansies?” Ms. Evelyn asked and Athen nodded. “They’ve always been a favorite of mine. You go on, now, and take the ones you want.”

  Ms. Evelyn waved a friendly greeting to another customerw ho had turned into the small lot.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Stephens,” she called as the woman exited her car. “I have those red azaleas you were looking for. Right this way.”

  Athen poked around the flats, making her selections slowly, all the while anxiously debating within herself as to the best way to approach Ms. Evelyn as Diana had suggested. When Mrs. Stephens had departed, Athen casually made her way to the counter over which an ancient cash register presided.

  “I think I’ll take four of the primroses, and four of the pansies,” she announced.

  “Now, when you say four, do you mean four plants, or four flats?”

  “Four flats,” Athen told her. “Four of each.”

  Ms. Evelyn nodded and pulled a pencil from her shirt pocket and began to tally up Athen’s purchases on a small piece of paper. “So, now, how are we doing with our shelter?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid—at least, for now.” Athen took a deep breath and plunged into the business of politicking. “You know I’m behind it one hundred percent, Ms. Evelyn. Unfortunately, there is very little support for this on Council. I guess you’ve already heard that. Outside of George Konstantos, upon whose support I know I can rely, I just don’t see anyone else coming out on our side.”

  “Athen, honey, were you not aware that this problem existed when we took our little walk to Fourth Street?” Ms. Evelyn continued writing small numbers in her neat, even hand, but never looked up.

  “I suspected there would be some resistance,” Athen replied carefully, “but I really thought that when the other members of Council saw how much support there was in the community, they’d come around. Unfortunately, that has not happened.” She shook her head sadly. “You may have seen Councilman Wolmar’s press conference this week?”

  “I certainly did.” Ms. Evelyn sniffed indignantly. “And I can tell you that the UCC did not appreciate his comments. Not one bit.”

  “Then you know where Council stands,” Athen ventured.

  “I know where Jim Wolmar says it stands.” Ms. Evelyn flashed a look of anger.

  “Well, right now, I don’t see any sense in bringing it before Council, Ms. Evelyn. George Konstantos is perfectly willing to introduce the issue, but since no one else is willing to vote with him …” Athen shrugged and lifted her hands in an “I don’t know what else we can do” gesture. “Council always votes together, Ms. Evelyn. There’s never been a split vote—at least, not since I’ve been mayor. I’ve never been called upon to cast a tie-breaking vote. Right now, I just don’t see any way to pry one more vote from those three remaining Council members.”

  “That’ll be sixty-four dollars.” Ms. Evelyn finished the computation. “Let me put them in a box for you.”

  The spry little woman disappeared into the greenhouse and emerged with a cardboard box.

  “It’s a sad day when Woodside Heights can’t see fit to take care of the unfortunate in its midst.” Ms. Evelyn shook her white-haired head slowly from side to side. “A very sad day, indeed.”

  “I could not agree with you more, Ms. Evelyn.”

&n
bsp; Athen held her breath, waiting for Ms. Evelyn to “get creative,” as Diana had assured her she would do.

  Ms. Evelyn, however, was engrossed in packing Athen’s primroses.

  “We need another box,” Ms. Evelyn muttered, and she returned a second time to the greenhouse.

  They carried the boxes of flowers to Athen’s car with no further conversation. Athen tried not to panic, tried to stifle the growing urge to grab Mr. Evelyn by the shoulders and yell, “You’re supposed to be my secret weapon. Diana said you’d know what to do!”

  Before Athen got into her car, Ms. Evelyn offered a hug, but no words of wisdom. Disappointed and depressed, Athen took the long way home.

  Her secret weapon appeared to be a dud.

  THE HOPED-FOR GAME PLAN NOT having materialized, a downcast Athen poked about the house, looking for something to do.

  Remembering the plants still tucked into the trunk of her car, she decided now was as good a time as any to put them in the ground. She changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled up her sleeves, and set about the task of looking through the rebuilt garage for the garden tools.

  “Wow,” Callie exclaimed as she rounded the side of the house. “Mom! You’re digging.”

  “How very observant of you,” Athen replied dryly.

  “Where’d the plants come from?”

  “Ms. Evelyn’s.”

  “You went to Ms. Evelyn’s without me?” Callie protested.

  “You were out like a light and I didn’t want to wake you, but she did say she’d have some things you’d like in another month or so.”

  “Oh, boy. What things?”

  “I didn’t ask. But I’ll take you back in a few weeks and you can see for yourself. What are you and Nina up to?”

  “We want to go to Carolann’s house. Her mom said she’d take us to the movies, then we could go back to her house and have pizza. Is it okay with you?”

  “What’s the movie?”

  “It’s the one about the dog on the airplane that gets sent to one airport while his humans go someplace else,” Callie told her.

  “I guess that’s okay.” Athen put her trowel down and sat back against the tree. “Do you have any money?”

  “My allowance.” Callie nodded.

  “How will you get there, how will you get home, and when can I expect you?”

  “Mrs. McGowan, Mrs. McGowan, and the three of us wanted to sleep over at Nina’s.” Callie ticked off her responses on her fingers. “Nina’s mom said it was okay.”

  “Stop out here before you leave so I can kiss you good-bye,” Athen instructed.

  Twenty minutes later, Callie announced she was packed and ready to go, just as Athen finished placing the last primrose in the firm ground.

  “Not bad, Mom.” Callie raised her face for her good-bye kiss. “Actually, it looks pretty good, for your first flower bed. Dad would have been proud. See you in the morning.”

  After Callie left, Athen sat on the top step to admire her work. She’d placed the new plantings between the clumps of daffodils that were just coming into bloom. She walked to the end of the flagstone walkway near the street for a different perspective.

  “Not bad.” She repeated Callie’s praise. The colors of the flowers were bright and added a splash of cheeriness to the grass that had yet to green up.

  Hands on her hips, she surveyed her little domain. Her eyes followed the walkway to the front of the redbrick Tudor-style house. Elongated arms of forsythia covered with masses of golden blossoms reached upward to the second-floor windows from either side of the front steps.

  I should find one of John’s shrub books, she told herself, and figure out how to prune those. This is the second spring they’ve not been cut back, and they’re out of control.

  She strolled up the walk, inhaling deeply as a light breeze bore the scent of magnolia from a neighboring yard. She plopped herself on the steps again, relishing the first sense of contentment she’d felt in … how long? When was the last time she’d felt this quiet pleasure in her own company?

  Too long, she acknowledged, and she permitted herself the luxury of savoring the minutes of peaceful solitude.

  This time last year she had been a lost soul. Granted, her job was now in jeopardy, the most powerful man in the city had it in for her, and she had all but promised a homeless shelter that she could not deliver. But there were other things to consider, things that were more important than Dan Rossi’s disposition.

  Recently, Athen had returned to the Greek Community Center, and she’d been humbled by the warmth with which she’d been greeted. She had not realized how much she’d been missed, or the value of the service she’d provided. Helping the elderly to fill out medical forms, translating mail, teaching the basics of this foreign English language to those who could read or speak only Greek, she filled a real need. She was grateful to be needed again, grateful to once more find something within herself to give. Returning every Wednesday night had become a priority.

  The warming weather, too, had drawn her out of the house, and she could no longer resist the pull of the new bike. She rode early each morning for thirty minutes, and found her enthusiasm for this once-favorite pastime returning. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed the quiet streets, nearly empty just after dawn, when the fragrance of a new day filled the city. The regular exercise renewed her energy as well as her spirit.

  And I’ve even planted my first garden, she mused. Recalling that John always watered immediately after planting, she went around the side of the house and returned with the hose. She had just finished dousing the newly planted flowers when she recognized the dark SUV that had just parked in front of the house.

  “Hi.” Quentin walked up the flagstone path.

  “Unexpected visits are becoming a habit with you.”

  “Didn’t Callie tell you I called?” he asked. “I told her I might stop by.”

  “I guess it slipped her mind.” Athen wondered if it had been an oversight on the part of her daughter, who was usually reliable when it came to messages.

  “Where is the little general?” He peered up the driveway.

  “Off with her girlfriends for the night.” Athen dried her hands on her pant legs. “What brings you out this way?”

  “Timmy had baseball practice this afternoon. I dropped him off at his friend’s house over on Falmouth. I thought since I was just a block away, I’d stop in and see if you would be free for dinner.” He grinned. “Apparently, you are.”

  “Ahhh, well …” She was suddenly befuddled.

  “Look, it’s just a casual night out. There’s a new Thai restaurant I’ve been wanting to try. And it’s not often I’m footloose and fancy-free on a Saturday night. I guess you get out without Callie about as often as I get out without Timmy.”

  “Quentin, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, let’s start with the fact that I’ll be afraid to open my mouth for fear that anything I say will end up in print.”

  “This is strictly social, I promise,” he assured her. “As a matter of fact, we can agree not to discuss your job, City Hall, anything you feel uncomfortable with.”

  “You really feel you can stick with that?” she asked skeptically.

  “Absolutely.” His blue eyes fixed on her without blinking. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Well, I guess we could.” She remained unconvinced, but his manner was so sincere. His dimples so deep …

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at— What’s a good time? Seven?”

  “At least seven.” She held out her hands and arms, which were caked with dirt from her fingers to her elbows. “It will take me at least that long to get cleaned up.”

  The sun had almost set and the streetlights came on to signal the approach of evening. Standing with her back to the light, she cast a shadow over his face.

  “I’ll see you then.” He smiled and headed for his car.

  Athen began to gather up the hos
e to return it to the backyard, while at the same time watching Quentin return to his car.

  No wonder Meg and her college friends hung out the window just to watch him walk by, Athen mused. He certainly has a great … walk.

  18

  Athen stood in front of the bathroom mirror and attempted to apply makeup with trembling hands, questioning the wisdom of having accepted Quentin’s casual invitation.

  How long has it been since I’ve had a date? Fourteen years? Fifteen? Whatever possessed me to say yes? What will we talk about? I’m not good at small talk. I haven’t had male companionship on a one-on-one basis in eighteen months. Other than my father, of course, or Dan.

  Her fingers tiptoed from one hanger to the next in her open closet as she evaluated her wardrobe. Too matronly. Too dressy. Too casual. Too old. Ugh. Why do I still have this?

  One by one, she rejected everything she owned, then started over again.

  She settled on a pair of loden green pants and a pale sage shirt she’d bought on sale but never wore. She frowned at her reflection.

  Too … plain.

  She rummaged through a drawer until she found a paisley scarf, which she tied around her neck. She frowned again. Too nineties.

  She gathered her hair with the scarf, and tied it in a big floppy bow at the back of her neck. Better, but still dated.

  “I’ll bet men don’t go through this,” she muttered to Hannah. “I’ll bet Quentin just got out of the shower and pulled on the first thing he saw.”

  She studied her reflection in the mirror. The peach-toned blush was soft and okay for the office, but at night it looked too pale. She rummaged through the makeup kit Meg had sent for her birthday and scanned her choices. Maybe the plum would be better. She removed the peach blush and gently stroked on the darker shade. The change was better, fresher. She studied her eyes. I should have used some shadow. Something darker, but not too dark.