A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  Forty-five minutes later, Meg was trying on shoes pulled from Athen’s closet.

  Meg admired the brown heels. “It’s amazing when you consider that as tall as you are, and as short as I am, we wear the same size. Of course, what looks like a tiny delicate foot at the end of your long leg looks like a tugboat on me. It’s the Moran curse, you know. Big feet and short stubby legs.”

  “Your legs are not stubby.” Athen laughed. “You’re petite.”

  “A marketing term for short and stubby,” insisted Meg as she draped a belt around her hips.

  “Blouse the front of the shirt a little,” Athen suggested. “That’s better.”

  She peered out the window at the sound of tires crunching in the driveway.

  “Brenda’s here,” she told Meg. “And you look terrific. Go knock ’em dead.”

  “Thanks, Athen, for everything.” Meg gave her sister-in-law a quick hug. “For the blouse, the ironing job, the shoes, the belt, the earrings.” Meg sang off the list of borrowed items as she ran down the steps.

  Athen collected the empty coffee mugs and took them to the kitchen. On the counter lay the reprinted newspaper photo Meg had given her the day before. As much as she’d stared at the picture, she could not come up with the name of the man in the background. If she had ever known his identity, it was gone from her memory bank now. After searching unsuccessfully for the phone book, she lifted the receiver and called information.

  “I’d like the number for Diana Bennett on Rosedale, please.”

  THE HOUSE AT 417 ROSEDALE Avenue looked exactly like a house that Diana Bennett would live in. Small and compact, little more than a cottage built in the 1920s, it had charm and beauty and an air of romance about it. From the rose-covered arbor that framed the neat front door to the airy and light interior, it had Diana’s name all over it.

  The entire first floor was white, providing a simple background for Diana’s collection of beautifully painted pottery.

  “They’re all American pieces.” Diana volunteered after Athen admired the pastel vases that paraded across the deep windowsills. “Grueby, Van Briggle, Weller—I’m partial to the Weller since I grew up in Zanesville, Ohio, where it was made, and my mother was a painter there. From time to time I’ve been able to find some pieces with her initials on the bottom where she signed her work.”

  Diana lifted a tall pale green vase adorned with white flowers and held it, base up, to show Athen the letters scratched in the bottom, but Athen’s eyes were glued to the photograph that stood importantly at the center of the small stone mantel. Ari and Diana beamed—glowed—in full living color, Ari handsome as an aging movie hero, Diana soft and beautiful in a champagne-colored lace dress.

  “What a beautiful picture.” Athen quickly masked her embarrassment at having been caught gaping.

  “That was taken two weeks before Ari’s stroke,” Diana told her.

  Athen was unable to take her eyes from it. “You both look so happy.”

  “We were.”

  Athen swallowed hard. “I guess now is a good time to apologize to you for … for …”

  “For thinking I was just a good time for a lonely old man?” Diana smiled gently.

  “I don’t know if I’d put it that way.” Athen squirmed uncomfortably.

  “Sure you would,” Diana jabbed with more good humor and grace than Athen thought she could have mustered under the circumstances. “At least, once upon a time, you might have. But you don’t owe me an apology, Athen. Neither Ari nor I gave you any reason to think otherwise.”

  “All those years, I should have made things easier for him, and for you. I should have included you in our holidays.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Diana patted her hand. “I probably wouldn’t have come anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t?” Athen had never considered this possibility.

  Diana sat on the ottoman in front of the oversized, overstuffed chair and shook her head.

  “We’d made such a happy little world for ourselves here, I never wanted to share him. So on Christmas, he’d spend the day with you and John, and come home to me, and we’d have our own holiday together.” Diana wiped a slow tear from her face and looked around the room. “The only truly happy birthdays, the only really merry Christmases I’ve ever had have been here, with Ari. This is the only place I’ve ever felt safe.”

  “Safe?” Athen asked cautiously.

  Diana went into the kitchen and returned with a box of pale green tissues.

  “I have the feeling I might need these,” she said as she sat again. “I suppose the simplest way to explain is to say that I went from being an abused child to being an abused wife. I married Donald Bennett right out of high school. I thought he’d take me far away, and he did. He’d gotten a job with a pharmaceutical company about eight miles from here and went to graduate school at night. I got a job as a clerk in the finance department at City Hall. One of the girls in the office invited me to a campaign workers’ meeting one night. Sam Tarbottom was running for mayor that year, do you remember?”

  Athen shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Well, I had nothing else to do. Donald would be at school. We’d made no friends, and I guess I was lonely, so I went. Ari was one of the organizers of Sam’s campaign. I thought he was so wonderful. So European and suave and handsome.”

  Diana laughed, just a hint of blush rising to her cheeks. “Everyone was so nice to me. It was the first time in years I felt that I had a place to go, a place where I had friends. I didn’t care who the candidate was. I’d have gone every week, just for the companionship, you know? Just to feel that I belonged somewhere.”

  Athen silently nodded. She too had felt isolated once.

  “And so I went back, every week. I knew Donald would have a fit if he knew, he was so jealous, but I didn’t care. For those few hours, I could be like everybody else, out for an evening with friends. We’d laugh and talk and drink beer. Once your father brought bottles of Metaxa and Tarbottom got drunk as a skunk.” She laughed at the memory. “But mostly it was stuffing envelopes and laughing. That’s what I remember most about those nights. Then one night I got back a little late and Donald was already at the apartment.”

  Her tongue flicking across her lips nervously. “He was not happy. I paid for my night out with two black eyes and a couple of broken ribs.”

  Athen was stunned at the thought of anyone striking this gentle soul.

  “Of course, I had to call in sick the next day, and the next, until the bruising subsided a bit. And I had to plaster makeup on my face before I could appear in public. I didn’t dare attend the next week’s meeting, or the next few. But three weeks later, when Donald had exams, I went back. Carol Parker—she was my friend in the office— I know she knew, but she never asked. She promised she’d get me home early, but her car broke down. And Donald was waiting for me again. I decided maybe I didn’t need friends after all.”

  She paused and blew her nose.

  “The following week, when we were moving the finance offices from the second floor to the third, we all had to stay late, to move our own areas. Ari helped us to pack our desks. He kept looking at my face, and I knew he wanted to ask, but he never did. He carried my boxes for me.” Diana’s voice was almost a whisper. “Donald came to the office looking for me. He thought we were alone, since everyone else had gone upstairs. I’d gone back to get my jacket. Your father came in just as Donald was winding up for the second punch.”

  “Oh, my God, Diana,” Athen whispered in horror.

  “Ari all but put him through the file cabinets. He picked up the phone and told Donald if he wasn’t out of the city in thirty minutes, he’d have him arrested for assault and battery.” Diana’s eyes began to glow softly. “Donald left, and Ari took me home with him, and he cried as he put ice on my face. By the next morning he’d arranged for surveillance of my apartment in case Donald decided to call his bluff, and he got me a lawyer to start working on my divorce
. He was my hero, Athen. No one had ever defended me before.”

  “I always wondered why someone so young and beautiful …”

  “… fell in love with a man old enough to be my father? Ari is the only person who ever really loved me, the only one who ever really believed in me. My life began that night, and I thank God every day for having brought him to me. He’s given me the only happiness I’ve ever known.”

  “But even now, when he’s …” Athen bit her tongue.

  “You need to understand this: I will love that man with my whole heart—in sickness and in health—until the day I die. No one could ever mean to me what he does. He taught me how to laugh, and how to love, and how to believe in myself. He talked me into going to college, and later he convinced me to get my CPA. He is the one and only love of my life, Athen. He’s my real-life knight in shining armor.”

  Diana passed the tissue box to a sniffing Athen across the small space formed by their parallel knees.

  “So,” Diana said, “now you know. And maybe you understand why I had no interest in sharing him, with you or anyone else. He’s all I have. I admit that I did want to be your friend. Especially after Ari’s stroke, and when John died, I wanted to be there for you. Ari would have wanted me to.”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t talk sooner. It must have been so hard for you when Dad was in the hospital and only John and I were allowed in his room for those first few days.”

  “Sharing the waiting room with Dan Rossi was the worst part,” Diana said grimly. “He sat there praying for Ari to die while I was praying for him to live.”

  “You really think he hoped that Dad would …”

  “If you’d seen the look on Dan’s face …” Diana shivered. “Yes, I really do believe he was hoping your father would not survive.” She smiled wryly. “I guess paralyzed and unable to speak was his second choice.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Amen,” Diana agreed.

  Athen covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I let that man talk me into helping him get another term.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” Diana assured her. “Dan is a very good liar.”

  Athen suddenly remembered why she was there in the first place. “Speaking of Dan, maybe you can help me with something.”

  “What’s that?”

  Athen opened her purse and took the paper out, folding the creases flat onto her lap. “Meg found this photo on microfiche at the newspaper yesterday. This man, the one in the background, looks slightly familiar but I can’t place him.”

  Diana leaned over for a better look. “Phillip Harper. He was a real-estate attorney from around New Brunswick.”

  “Was?”

  “He retired last year. I heard he moved to Florida or Arizona, someplace warm. He was a real heavy hitter. He had a lot of money, and I think he thought of political contributions as an investment. I didn’t know him well, but I met him a few times.”

  Diana studied the details of the picture silently. “We were at this party, your dad and I.”

  “You were?”

  “It was at Wynn and Ellen Thomas’s house in Saddlebrook. I remember every detail of that night. It was quite the society bash. Tickets were a thousand dollars a head. Everything was perfect—the caterer, the band. We danced until I could barely stand up. The ballroom was decorated to look like a Hawaiian grotto, complete with waterfalls, and there were flowers absolutely everywhere.”

  “Do you recognize the other man, the one in front with Dan?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I knew everyone there that night. These events draw the same people every time. State pols. County people. Only the wealthiest contributors and the candidates. This was the last big fund-raiser before the election, as I recall. But I don’t think I remember this man.” Diana shook her head. “I wish I did. Especially if this was what Ari was looking at that morning.”

  “Meg said she scanned the paper from end to end and found nothing that related to Rossi but this.”

  Diana handed the picture to Athen. “Maybe the key lies with the mystery man. I wish I knew who he was.”

  “So do I.” Athen folded the paper and tucked it into her bag. “I wonder if my dad knows.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Diana nodded. “But then again, if Ari could speak, we’d know the whole story, wouldn’t we?”

  WHAT A DIFFERENCE A YEAR makes, Athen mused as she dressed for the Memorial Day outing. This time last year I was praying for gale-force winds. Today, I can’t get there fast enough.

  She’d tried for the past week to make the call she knew she had to make, but each time she lifted the receiver, she’d returned it to its cradle without making the call. After torturing herself for days, she decided to wait until the press conference on Wednesday. The plan was to nab Quentin on the way out of the room and nonchalantly ask him to stop at her office before he left the building. That plan was scrapped when he blew out of the room as soon as the last question was asked and answered.

  There was always plan B.

  Chances were that he, along with just about every other living soul in Woodside Heights, would be at the picnic today. Well, Athen was ready for him. She’d corner him and give him her best, her most sincere apology. With any luck, maybe by tonight she’d back in his arms again.

  There was no need this year for Callie to urge her mother to hurry. Athen was downstairs and dressed before Callie was awake.

  “You look nice, Mom,” Callie said as they got into the car. “I like that outfit on you.”

  It had been chosen carefully, black and gold checked Capri pants, a pale gold cotton pullover, black sandals, a chunky gold bracelet, and a gold scarf to tie back her hair. The picnic be damned: she was dressed for an impromptu dinner invitation, with maybe a stop afterward at the park to feed the ducks. Ever hopeful, her words of apology well rehearsed, Athen headed off for the day’s events with Callie.

  Diana had insisted on accompanying them. “Dan will be attempting to hold court as he has for the past sixteen years,” she’d told Athen. “We’re going to be there to remind him that he’s just another ex-employee, just like all the other old-timers.”

  “What do you mean, remind him …?”

  “Just follow my lead,” she told Athen.

  Callie sighed as they waited for Diana when they stopped to pick her up. “I just love Diana’s little house, don’t you, Mom?”

  Diana waved from the front window, locked the door, and walked briskly to the car.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Diana said while en route to the park, “have you spoken with Meg since she left on Monday?”

  “She called last night. Everyone at the station out there is buzzing about her new job. And of course, she can’t wait.”

  “When will she start?”

  “Officially, she goes on Chapman’s payroll October first, though the station won’t kick off until December. Of course, Brenda wants her here as soon as the station in Tulsa will release her from her contract.” Athen pulled into the already filled parking lot at the park.

  Callie went off in search of her friends, and Diana and Athen walked toward the gathering under the trees.

  “Now stay close, Athen,” Diana instructed. “Because today I’m going to teach you something you should have learned from your father.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How to work a crowd.”

  Athen marveled at how fluidly Diana floated through the throng, never matching the wrong name to the wrong face. Dressed all in white—a white cotton dress with a full skirt, a wide-brimmed white hat, white sandals—she could have been the hostess at a garden party.

  “Mrs. Amory!” Diana took the hand of a plump woman who was headed for the food table and turned to Athen. “Athen, of course you know Mrs. Amory. She worked side by side with me every time your father ran for Council.” She turned back to Mrs. Amory. “Oh, and wasn’t that first election night one to remember? Did you ever see such rain? And how is yo
ur daughter? Did I hear she’s engaged …?”

  Next it was, “Mrs. Simpson.” Diana bent to place a kiss on the face of an elderly woman perched on the edge of picnic bench. “What a coincidence! I was just telling the mayor about that pothole at the end of your street. Athen, Mrs. Simpson is the lady I was telling you about. The most dreadful pothole … perhaps someone from Streets could go out tomorrow and take a look?”

  “David Gilmartin.” Diana hugged a thin, bald man. “I was devastated to hear about your wife. What a loss to us all. Athen, David’s wife passed away in March.”

  And on it went until Athen whispered in her ear, “What in God’s name are you doing? And when can we stop and sit down for a minute?”

  “A cold drink would be wonderful, yes, thank you. Athen? Something cold?” Diana scooped up two cans of ice-cold soda from a huge cooler. “You are doing what the mayor is supposed to be doing at things like this, and we don’t stop till it’s over,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as she handed one of the cans to Athen and popped open the lid of the one in her hand. “Before this day is over, you will have shaken every adult hand, kissed every baby, and said something endearing to every child in attendance.”

  “That’s what you do when you’re campaigning,” Athen grumbled and searched the throng for the only person she was interested in talking to. “Which I am not.”

  Diana nodded in the direction of the small crowd that had gathered around the former mayor. “Dan certainly is.”

  “He can do whatever he wants.” Athen made a face. “And he doesn’t need to campaign. The job is his.”

  “Now, Athen, didn’t your daddy ever tell you there’s no such thing as a sure thing?” Diana turned to the couple approaching them from the left. “Ann … Mike. How good to see you again.”

  Athen scanned the crowd for a tall, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a killer smile. She found him over by the ball field where the children were being divided into teams.

  “Excuse me, Diana. Jim, Nancy, it was wonderful to see you,” she echoed Diana’s smooth tones in making a graceful exit. “My daughter is in the softball game, and I don’t dare miss a play.”