by Dee Ernst
Diane left the safety of the doorway and lunged toward her daughter. Emily scrambled back. Diane froze. Her voice was low and hoarse.
“You will not speak like that again in my house - ever. If you do, I will throw you into the street with nothing but the clothes on your back.” Diane was aware of movement behind her, and she turned quickly to find Megan and Becca in the doorway, eyes wide.
Diane swallowed hard, wondering how long the younger girls had been there. “Becca, you have to leave now,” Diane said. “I’m sorry. Megan, go down and watch her from the steps ‘till she’s at her house. It’s late. Go.” The girls scurried away. Diane turned back to Emily.
“I don’t know why you think you can treat me this way, Emily, but you can’t. I’m sure you’ve imagined that I’ve committed some hideous crime against you, but all I did was stay in the company of a man who came to mean a great deal to me. I never once let it touch you. It never interfered with my being a mother to you. You keep telling me how grown-up you are. Well, here’s your opportunity to prove it. You will stay in this room until you apologize. If that is unacceptable to you, call your father now and have him come and get you.”
Diane left the room, closing the door behind her. She stood in the tiny hallway, gulping air, hands to cheeks.
“God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God.”
She went quickly downstairs and into the kitchen, reaching with an unsteady hand for the vodka in the upper cabinet. She poured quickly into a juice glass and gulped it down. The panic in her stomach eased, but she was still shaking. She looked up. Megan had come into the kitchen and was standing quietly, her hands thrust into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“Are you okay, Mom?” She asked shakily.
Diane nodded, and Megan crossed over to her, putting her arms around Diane and holding tightly. Diane stroked her head.
“You know Em,” Megan said, her voice muffled, “she’s just hard sometimes.”
“Yes, honey, I know. Emily is very hard.” Diane stared over Megan’s head.
The front door opened, and Diane ran from the kitchen, thinking that Emily may have run out. Instead, there stood Sue Griffen, her face pale.
“Meg, let me talk to your Mom, okay?” Sue asked quickly. Megan nodded and ran upstairs. Sue came over to Diane and gave her a quick hug around the shoulders.
“Becca told me. Are you okay?” Diane nodded. “Drink something,” Sue urged. Diane managed a weak smile.
“You give the best advice of anyone I know. I did have a drink. Now at least I don’t want to throw up. But I still want to hit something.”
Sue was looking at Diane anxiously. “What did you say to her?”
Diane said unsteadily, “I told her she had to apologize, and if she didn’t she could call her father.” And at that moment, the phone rang.
Diane let out a deep breath and answered. It was Kevin.
“Are you going to tell me what this is about?” he asked, concerned. “She’s hysterical. I’m supposed to come and get her because you’ve disowned her.”
“I have not. Oh, shit. Come and get her. I think she needs to be out of here for a few days, okay?”
Kevin sighed. “Okay. I’m on my way.”
Diane hung up and looked at Sue. Tears filled her eyes. “She’s going to stay at Kevin’s.”
Sue nodded and rubbed Diane’s back. “Yeah, kiddo, maybe it’s best for now. Emily just needs time, you know her. She’ll be back.”
Diane was nodding. “Yes, I know.”
Megan came running back down the stairs, sobbing. “Em says she’s leaving, Mom, stop her.”
Diane caught her daughter in her arms and held her, rocking her back and forth. “Just for a day or two, honey, don’t worry.” She kissed the top of her head
Sue rubbed the back of her neck. “Why don’t I make coffee?” She whispered. Diane nodded, and Sue went into the kitchen. Diane led Megan to the couch, and they sat together. Diane could hear a rattle of pans. Sue was cleaning.
“Megan, is it time for your brownies to come out?” Megan nodded. “Okay, honey, why don’t you go on in the kitchen, okay? Sue will help you.”
Megan stood up as headlights flashed into the driveway. She looked at her mother, and tears started in her eyes again. Sue came out, took Megan’s arm, and led her into the kitchen. Diane stood, waiting for Kevin.
He came through the front door, took one look at Diane, and put his arms around her gently. He patted her shoulders, then pushed her down onto a chair and sat on the coffee table across from her.
“Okay, tell me quick,” he said in a low voice.
“I was seeing somebody. I didn’t tell her, because she was with you all summer, and then he left, but she just found out. It’s complicated, Kevin. I’ll explain tomorrow. Just get her, okay?”
He looked at Diane sadly. “For a woman who’s tough enough to take on Tyson, why do you let her get to you so much? You know she pushes buttons. You know she’s out for blood.” He stood up. “Where’s Megan?”
Diane swallowed hard. “In the kitchen.”
Kevin took in a bushel of air and went into the kitchen. Sue came out a moment later, with a tray of coffee cups. She set them down and pushed a mug into Diane’s hands.
Diane shook her head. “I can’t drink caffeine this late,” she said automatically.
Sue looked disgusted. “Oh, right. Like you’re really going to sleep tonight. Drink up. You’re white as a ghost and your hands are freezing.” Sue took a sip of her own mug. “Megan seems okay, Diane, honest. She’s a level-headed kid.”
Diane sipped the coffee. Kevin and Megan came out and together went upstairs. Sue and Diane exchanged looks, and they sat together, drinking coffee until Kevin came back downstairs. He sat down heavily and picked up a coffee mug, spooned in sugar, and drank.
“Megan is helping her pack.” Kevin said. “At least she’s stopped crying.”
They sat and waited. Finally, Emily came slowly downstairs, dragging a duffel bag behind her. She stood at the front door, looking at the floor, not speaking. Kevin stood up, nodded to Diane, and walked Emily out of the house.
Sue stood up. “More coffee?” Diane nodded, and Sue went and brought back the pot. They drank another mug. Diane kept taking long, deep breaths. Sue hadn’t said anything. Megan came back downstairs, face red and blotchy, and sat down next to her mother.
“Why was she so angry?” she asked Diane.
“How much did you hear, Meg?”
Megan looked shamefaced. “All of it. We followed you upstairs. I knew she was mad about something. I didn’t know why, though.”
Diane lifted her shoulders and let them drop heavily. “I don’t know why either, honey. Maybe she thought I should have told you both about Michael long before this. I would have. When Michael came back, and when we started seeing each other again, I would have told you both.”
“I like Michael,” Megan said.
“Yeah. Me too. He’s a nice person.”
“Where did he go?”
“London,” Diane explained. “He’s writing music for a movie over there. He’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”
“Is he really your boyfriend?” Megan was looking interested now. Sue began to smile.
Diane chewed her lip. “Yes, honey, he’s my, ah, boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Megan nodded to herself. “Does this mean we’ll get to go to all the concerts?”
Sue ducked her head, hiding her grin. Diane smiled and nodded.
“Yes, honey, I guess if we want to.”
“That’s cool.” Megan stood up and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She ran upstairs.
Sue gave Diane a quick smile. “Want me to stay?”
Diane shook her head tiredly. “No, but thank you for being here. Really.”
“No problem. Call me tomorrow.” Sue went to the front door. “I mean it.”
Diane waved her out, then fell back against the chair cushions, pressing her h
ands against her eyes. She sat, exhausted, until Jasper jumped onto her lap. She took her hands away, and pushed the cat off her lap. She walked into her kitchen. It was spotlessly clean, a single pan of brownies on the counter. Diane cut a square out of the corner of the pan, ate it, then ate three more pieces. Feeling slightly sick, she went into the den. The light on her answering machine was blinking. She played the message. It was Rachel, saying she had talked to Emily about Michael and Diane should call A.S.A.P. Diane looked at her watch. It was almost eleven. She’d call her tomorrow. Then she looked at her computer. A message from Michael - just a quick line. He had her tickets to London. She could confirm the reservation. She sat down and answered. She wouldn’t be able to make London after all. There were too many problems with her play. She’d have to wait for him to come home. She hit the send button and started to cry again.
Emily did not apologize. She did not come home. She texted Megan all day long, but Emily would not speak to her mother. Kevin, having heard the story from both Diane and Emily, threw up his hands. He would not interfere. He felt she owed Diane an apology, but if she refused, he could not force her. She could stay with him as long as she liked.
For the next few weeks, Diane lived under a cloud. Michael was still in London. She had tried to call him again, but the number he had given her had been disconnected. His cell phone, she knew, had vanished his second week in London. She was desperate to speak with him, but did not want to call one of his sisters to ask how to reach him. Angela continued to be cool and aloof. Diane knew why. She was spending too much time with Quinn.
He found reasons to be outside her office at the end of her day. He would offer to take her for a quick drink, which often ended with dinner. She was tense, excited and miserable, and he was a warm and a soothing shoulder for her to lean on. She was so grateful for his presence that she pushed aside their growing intimacy, the longer looks, the softer kiss good-night. Every time she left him, she thought about what her life would be like with him, and how different it would be from her life with Michael – calmer, more dignified, none of the burning passion, true, but still full and rich.
The Monday before the first performance, Quinn came by her office. He sat across from her and waited while she listened patiently on the phone to a student, and when she hung up she gave him a smile. She was thinner than she had been at the start of the term, and her hair, longer now, framed her face in shining waves. His fingers were beating a tattoo in the arm of his chair.
“I’d like to be your date Friday,” he began. “I’d be honored to sit by your side on your opening night. Unless you’ve heard from the mysterious Michael?”
Diane chewed her lip. “No, I haven’t heard from Michael. He hasn’t even e-mailed. I’m worried, actually.” She looked down at her desk and played with her pen. “I, ah, don’t know what to think about Michael at this point.”
“Oh? Well. Then why don’t you forget about him and marry me?”
Diane looked up at Quinn in disbelief.
“We’re quite well suited to each other. We have the same taste in books, music, that sort of thing. We can talk to each other about anything.” He leaned forward. “I’m not asking you on a whim, Diane. When I came to the States two years ago and met you for the first time, I thought, this is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Diane sat up straighter.
“It took me this long,” he continued, “to free myself of my marriage and get back here to find you again. I’m in love with you, Diane, terribly in love with you, and it’s been torture for me to sit by and watch you wait for this phantom lover of yours. Especially since things have been bloody awful for you for the past few weeks. The whole thing with Emily, wouldn’t it have been easier for you if he were here? Why the devil didn’t he fly from London the minute he knew about what was going on?”
Diane found her voice. “I never told him, Quinn. And even if he were right here, what could he have done? Nothing. When I have something that I need to deal with, I don’t want a cheerleader. It distracts me. I need to be able to concentrate on getting the job done.”
Quinn waved her words aside. “Besides, the whole problem with Emily is Michael, right?”
“I won’t have the willfulness of a child determine how I live my life,” Diane said hotly.
“Well, good for you. Are you telling me that if you had to choose between your daughter and this man, you’d send Emily packing?”
Diane said nothing.
“How about this - how long have you dreamed about writing a play and seeing it performed?”
Diane dropped her eyes back to her desk. “Since I was, oh, probably ten.”
“So, Friday’s a fairly important night for you? Where is Michael? He does know about Friday, doesn’t he?”
“Quinn, you said yourself that Prescott is crazy. Michael is drowning over there.”
“And he can’t get away for a day?”
Diane raised her eyes and looked at Quinn steadily. “I don’t love you, Quinn.”
He made a face. “You’ve got him locked in your brain right now. Do you remember two years ago? Do you remember how you felt about me then? We were in love with each other. Granted, it may have happened quickly, but it was real. It was the most important thing that had ever happened to me.”
“It was for me too,” Diane said quickly. “You know that.”
“Yes. I did know. All I could think about was what the two of us could be together. I’m not talking about sex, although I had been going mad thinking about that. But we could have been magnificent. You knew it then, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I thought about us for a long time. I used to dream about what we would be like together.” She took in a deep breath. “Michael changed me, Quinn. I don’t know if I can go back.”
“He hasn’t been around for months,” Quinn said.
“Eight weeks tomorrow,” Diane corrected automatically. She looked apologetic. “So, I’ve been counting.”
He put his fingertips together and tapped them against his upper lip. “Can I at least court you? Properly, that is. Give me a chance, Diane, a real chance. Let me touch you now and again without all those red flags going up.”
Diane smiled tiredly. “How special you are, Quinn. Court me. What a lovely phrase.” She covered her face with her hands, and took several deep breaths. “I need a little more time, Quinn,” she said at last. She dropped her hands. “Can we wait until after Friday? Please?”
He stood up and walked around to her side of the desk and pulled her up from her chair. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deeply, and she kissed him back, pushing Michael away.
Quinn broke the kiss and looked at her tenderly. “I will wait until Friday. But I will be with you Friday night, unless you tell me otherwise, all right?”
She nodded, and Quinn left her office. Diane stood there, trying to sort things out inside her head. She walked out of her office and down the hall to Marianne. The secretary waved her in. Marianne was looking through a fat computer printout when Diane came in, closing the door behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Marianne asked. “Emily again?”
“No. Quinn just asked me to marry him.”
Marianne pushed aside the printout and looked at Diane incredulously. “He what?”
“Yes.” Diane walked over and sat down across from her friend. “Just now. He said we were well suited.”
Marianne shook her head. “You are so entertaining this year, I cannot begin to tell you. He’s right. You’re very well suited. You two make a terrific couple. There have been more than a few people making that observation.”
“Marianne, have you heard anything about Quinn and I?”
“Quinn and me,” Marianne corrected automatically. “Really, Diane. And yes, I’ve heard all sorts of things. Are you deaf as well as blind? Did this come as a surprise to you? Don’t you notice the way the man looks at you?”
“But, but, I told him,” Dian
e sputtered, “I told him about Michael. He said he understood.”
“So? He understood. That’s fine. But obviously it didn’t change his feelings toward you. Let’s look at this for a minute. He divorced his wife, and from what you’ve told me, it cost him dearly, and not just money-wise. He came back here for you. He finds you mooning over another man. Fine. But did you really think he was just going to shrug his shoulders and gave up? After all that? Good God, Diane, you amaze me. Are you really this stupid about men? I’ve never dealt with them as romantic partners, and I thank my good Lord every night for that, but even I’ve figured out the way they work.”
Diane slumped down in the chair. “So, now what do I do?”
“Do you want to marry him?”
“I’m not in love with him anymore.”
“But you were once. You were crazy to be with him.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“And with Michael you’ve always had, well, reservations.”
“I know,” Diane said miserably.
“Look, Diane,” Marianne said seriously, “I only want what’s best for you. And I know Michael is all you can see right now. But Quinn is a good man. He obviously loves you. He’s asked you to marry him. Has Michael?”
“You know he hasn’t,” Diane said miserably. “He hasn’t said a thing in weeks. I wish I knew what was going on with him.”
“So, call him.”
“I tried. The number I had is no longer working. He hasn’t answered my e-mails. God, I am so upset about this.”
“You’ve got enough to be upset about with Emily. I’d forget about Michael, Diane, unless he makes a serious comeback.”
Diane sighed. “Quinn is coming with me Friday night.”
“Well, that will certainly be a statement.”
“Yes, I suppose it will.”
“I’m so sorry, Diane,” Marianne said gently. “Michael was glorious.”
Diane stood up. “I have the final outline done, for the grad class. I’d like you to take a look.”
“Great. How about lunch tomorrow?”
“Fine. See you then.”
Kevin’s car was parked in Diane’s driveway when she came home. It was just after four, which meant Kevin had to have taken off early from work. Diane’s heart was in her throat. That was either a good thing, or a very bad thing.
