Callie gave her directions to the field and instructed her not to have lunch, “‘Cause I packed lots of stuff.”
“YOU AND DIANA SEEM TO be getting along well these days,” Meg noted as they carried the basket around the playing field, looking for a spot to set up their picnic.
“We are. I was so wrong about her, Meg. She is so devoted to my father.” Athen stopped behind the fence that ran the length of the first-base line and dropped the blanket.
“That’s obvious.” Meg anchored one end of the blanket with the picnic basket. “What the hell could that child have stuffed in here? This damned thing weighs a ton.”
“Let’s take a peek.” Athen lifted the lid and began to laugh. “Take a guess, how many sandwiches.”
“Six?”
“Try eight, and an equal number of water bottles packed in plastic bags filled with ice. I guess that accounts for the weight.”
They settled down on the blanket, Meg popping up every few minutes to snap a picture of her niece. Diana joined them within the hour.
“Have I missed much?” she asked as she sat between them on the blanket.
“Not by a long shot.” Athen opened the basket and rattled off the contents. “Let’s see. Peanut butter and grape jelly. Peanut butter and something red. Raspberry? Cherry? Hard to tell—let’s just call it red stuff. Peanut butter and maybe peach or apricot.”
“I’ll have one with the red stuff, and a bottle of water.” Meg peered into the basket. “What else has she got in there?”
“Doritos. Grapes. A bag of little candy bars, and a couple of packs of sugarless gum.”
“Girl wasn’t taking any chances on not having enough snacks.” Diana chuckled. “Pass over one of those sandwiches. The mystery jelly is fine.
“Athen, have you had an opportunity to speak with Ms. Evelyn?” Diana asked.
“Yes, I did.” Athen frowned. “But there’s no sign of life there.”
“What do you mean?”
“She didn’t seem to have any ideas at all.”
“Be patient.” Diana reached into the basket for a bottle of water. “She’ll come up with something.”
“I don’t know, Diana.” Athen unwrapped her sandwich. “I’m not certain that she hasn’t given up on the shelter and just put all her energy into the community garden.”
“Not a chance,” assured Diana. “If you ask me, that garden is just part of some master plan. Besides, it’s not in her nature to give up.”
“Well, she certainly didn’t offer much encouragement.” Athen dabbed at the glob of jelly that had plunked onto the front of her shirt.
“What did you expect her to say?” chided Diana good-naturedly. “‘No problem, Athen. I’ll just talk to Riley Fallon and influence him to change his vote’?”
“I guess I thought she’d be—I don’t know—maybe more forthcoming,” Athen admitted.
“‘These things must be done delicately.’” Diana effectively mimicked the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz. “But don’t worry, she’ll come up with exactly the right approach at the right time, trust me. And when she does, you will be struck dumb by her ingenuity. I’ve seen her do some pretty amazing things over the years.”
Callie came up to bat, and Athen stood near the fence to cheer her on. On the third pitch she hit a double, and her mother and Diana jumped up and down, yelling, while Meg whistled between two fingers. Two batters later Callie rounded third base toward home, and after crossing the plate to score the run that put her team ahead, she raised a fist and pumped her arm in the air in the general direction of her mother.
“But I sure wish I had a handle on what he’s up to,” Diana was saying to Meg when Athen rejoined them.
“Did you see that kid run?” Athen was out of breath from yelling. “What who’s up to?”
“Diana was filling me in on Rossi’s curious attachment to those vacant houses on Fourth Street.” Meg tossed the bag of Doritos across the blanket to Athen. “She thinks whatever it is, it’s something Dan has been sitting on for the last three or four years.”
Meg picked through the grapes. “Do you think Callie thought to wash these? The last few tasted a bit gritty.”
Athen laughed and picked up the bag of grapes and took them to the water fountain to wash them off. She returned just as Meg asked Diana, “So you think something Ari saw while he was speaking with you that morning was the catalyst for his stroke?”
“I’m certain of it,” Diana said, nodding empathically. “I think that whatever it was, Ari had words with Dan over it. Here’s the thing: Dan rushed to the hospital practically within minutes of Ari’s admission. He waited there all night, as if he had to know what condition he was in and couldn’t wait for the reports.”
“So he goes to the hospital and waits, and finds out that the fates have intervened by sealing Ari’s lips, so to speak.” Meg was obviously intrigued.
“Throw me one of those little Snickers bars, will you, Athen?” Diana held up her right hand and caught the candy bar.
“What could Ari have seen?” Meg wondered aloud. “Something through the window?”
“Impossible.” Diana shook her head. “The only window in Ari’s office was at the opposite side of the room. The phone didn’t reach.”
“Something out in the hall, then, or something outside his door,” Meg suggested.
“No. Ari had put the phone down and closed the door when we first started talking,” Diana told them.
“Something he said before the phone call?” suggested Athen.
“I don’t think so.” Diana unwrapped the candy and took a bite. “We were talking about something else when, out of the blue, he said, ‘I see he’s gone too far this time.’”
“If he couldn’t see out the window, and he couldn’t see out into the hallway, what the hell could have be been looking at?” Meg scratched her head. “A memo? A letter, maybe?”
“The newspaper,” whispered Athen.
Diana’s head shot up. “Of course. It was the first thing he did every day, the first thing everyone in City Hall did every day.”
“What was the date of your father’s first stroke, Athen? Do you remember?”
“Late September, early October …”
“October 9, 2006,” Diana said quietly.
“My interview with Brenda is at her office at the Herald at two,” Meg told them. “Maybe if there’s enough time after the interview, I can go through the paper’s archives, see what’s on the microfiche for that day.”
“Get copies of anything that so much as mentions Dan Rossi’s name,” Diana suggested.
“Hey, Callie’s up again.” Athen went to the fence.
The three women shouted encouragement, and Callie responded by slamming a long ball into right field. The runners on second and third both scored, ending the game in favor of the Woodside Heights Girls Club. The jubilant winners lined up for the traditional handshake with the opposition, after which they threw their hats into the air and jumped up and down hugging each other. Meg was in their midst, snapping one photo after another.
“You guys save me any food?” The business of winning the game having been tended to, Callie plunged into the open picnic basket with both hands.
“Maybe you could eat that in the car on the way home.” Meg tapped her on the head. “I have an interview in exactly one hour and thirty-five minutes, and I’m not showing up in jeans and sneakers.”
AT FOUR THIRTY, MEG CALLED Athen’s cell from the office of the Woodside Herald.
“Did you find anything?” Athen asked immediately.
“First you have to ask how my interview went,” Meg instructed.
“Of course.” Athen smiled, knowing there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that Meg had not wowed Brenda. “How did your interview go?”
“It was great,” Meg told her confidently. “Brenda Chapman is one very savvy young woman. Forget the fact that she’s the daughter of the man who owns the paper and this new cable c
hannel. This gal can hold her own with anyone. We hit it off famously. Now you can ask me if I found something.”
“Did you …?”
“I don’t know,” she replied slowly.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? You either found something or you didn’t.” Athen frowned.
“The only thing that seemed to relate to Rossi is a photograph that was taken at some fund-raiser, and I did get a copy of it. Rossi’s in it, and there are a few other people in the photo, but I don’t know who they are.”
“Chances are I won’t either,” Athen said, frowning, “but maybe Diana will.”
“We’ll have to show her. Meanwhile, tell Callie I’ll pick her up in fifteen minutes. That will give me just enough time to get to the Chapmans’ for my meeting. Are you sure you don’t need your car for the rest of the day?”
“Positive.”
“Apparently, you haven’t changed your mind about not going.”
“Why would I go?”
Meg blew in long enough to hand Athen an envelope and to tell Callie to hurry up. They flew out the front door in a flurry, promising to be back around six thirty or shortly thereafter.
Athen sat at the kitchen table and opened the envelope. She held up the photocopy of the picture, and slid on her glasses to scrutinize the black-and-white image. A tuxedoed Dan Rossi gripped the arm of a tall white-haired man. Both men were smiling broadly for the camera. Immediately to the left of the duo and slightly in the background stood a third man who Athen thought looked vaguely familiar. The caption referred to a fund-raising event—“Woodside Heights mayor Dan Rossi greets contributors at weekend fund-raiser”—but gave no clue as to the identity of either of the other men in the picture.
She stared at the picture, but it was futile. She’d never seen the one man before, but wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen the other. She put the picture on the refrigerator door with a magnet, and went outside to water her plants. She walked back into the kitchen just in time to answer the phone.
The Chapmans had invited Meg and Callie for dinner. Athen, too, of course, if she’d care to join them. Meg would drive back to pick her up, to which Athen snapped, “What are you thinking?”
“Would you be upset if we stayed? Callie’s still riding. God, but she’s good, Athen. Is there anything that child can’t do well? Hughes and Brenda and I were just discussing the format for the proposed show. She’s moving to the new network as manager. They have some really innovative ideas.”
“Of course you should stay.” Athen bit her lip. “I don’t mind at all. I’ll see you when you get back.
“Traitors,” she mumbled after she hung up the phone.
Athen made herself busy cleaning the kitchen, grumbling the entire time. It did not take her long to realize that the person she was most annoyed with was Athen Moran. If she had called Quentin and apologized the way she should have, she wouldn’t be home alone, she reminded herself.
She changed into sweatpants and took her bike out of the garage. Maybe a little ride would lift her spirits. She pedaled out along the river road to the cemetery and pulled some errant weeds from the base of her mother’s memorial. Hands on her hips, she stood at the top of the ridge overlooking the river and inhaled deeply. Scanning the view, she noted that from where she stood the back of the barn on the Chapman estate was visible.
“Geez.” She shook her head. Even here she could not be rid of him. She rode home like one being pursued.
Callie and Meg are probably sitting at one of those lovely wicker tables on the veranda at this very minute, she thought. They’re enjoying a beautifully prepared dinner while I’m scrounging in a near empty refrigerator, deliberating between leftover pizza and yesterday’s tuna salad.
She flipped a coin. The tuna won.
Was Quentin having dinner with them? Maybe he had a date that night with someone, maybe one of those other ladies Meg alluded to who knew a prize when they saw one. Maybe he’d taken her to that little Thai restaurant. Athen could almost see him, urging his faceless companion to try the shrimp with spicy peanut sauce.
Hannah scratched at the back door and Athen let her in. She sat down on the hard kitchen floor and leaned back against the wall, the dog gazing up at her in adoration as she plunked her huge head in Athen’s lap. She was still sitting there in total misery when Callie and Meg returned home shortly after eleven.
“Sorry we’re so late,” Meg apologized, “but …”
“It’s okay,” Athen assured her. “I took a long bike ride, and then Hannah and I just hung out for a while.”
“Are you okay, Mom?” Callie asked.
“I’m fine, sweetie.”
“Why are you sitting on the kitchen floor?”
“I just sat down to pet Hannah and was too tired to get up.”
“Oh, okay. I’m going to bed, Mom.” Callie stooped to kiss the top of her head. “I’m pooped.”
Meg leaned back against the sink and sighed. “It went great, Athen. Chapman really seems to like me. He wants me to meet with one of their candidates for news producer to see what I think of her. Can you imagine? He wants my opinion.”
“I take it they offered you the job?” Athen smiled.
“There are some details that need to be worked out, but yes,” Meg said, a look of amazement on her face. “As she’s walking us to the car after dinner, Brenda says, ‘Dad and I both feel there’s no need to look for anyone else for our lead anchor. We’d like you to think about when you could start. We’d like you to work with us as we get this thing rolling. And no pressure, but the sooner the better.’”
“Meg, that’s wonderful.” Athen got off the floor and hugged her.
“I can’t wait to go back to Tulsa and stick this in Cal Robbins’s smug face.” Her eyes narrowed. “He has been jerking around with my contract the past two months.”
“When does it expire?”
“October first,” Meg said with a grin, “after which time I will belong to CCN—that’s Chapman Cable Network—body and soul.”
“Will he make you work through September?” Athen inquired.
“Probably not,” Meg told her. “Cal really doesn’t like me any more than I like him. I think he’ll be just as happy to see me leave as I will be to go.”
“How was dinner?” Athen asked casually.
“Wonderful. Man, what a cook they have. And what a lifestyle: cocktails on the veranda, dinner in that lovely dining room.”
“The big one?” Athen pressed.
Meg nodded. “The one with the enormous Waterford chandelier and the Degas on the wall.”
“Were there a lot of people there?” The Chapmans’ dining room was cavernous, not suited, Athen thought, for a small gathering.
“A larger group than I would have expected, considering we were supposed to be conducting a job interview,” Meg noted. “The formality of the house aside, I got the impression that the Chapmans are pretty loose at home. There was some cousin of Lydia’s there from St. Louis, with her husband and four children. And Lydia’s daughter, Caitlin.”
“Lydia’s daughter?” Athen’s eyebrows rose. Quentin had never mentioned a sister.
“She’s wrapping up her residency at a hospital in Chicago.” Lowering herself wearily into a chair, Meg kicked off her shoes. “Caitlin is quite a gal. She wants to work in an inner-city hospital or clinic, working with low-income families. With their money, she could probably build her own damned hospital. Did you know that Lydia Chapman’s father founded Bradford International? And that she controls the trusts? We are talking major Yankee dollars here.”
“Bradford International?” Athen’s eyes widened. Had Quentin really given up a major position with the well-known corporation? “The …”
“Yeah. The Bradford International. Majorly huge dollars there.”
“What’s Caitlin like?” Athen wondered aloud.
“She’s the image of her mother, except that she’s a strawberry blonde, and taller.” Meg studied her sister-
in-law’s face carefully. “Aren’t you going to ask if Quentin was there?”
“No.”
“Of course you were.” Meg laughed. “Stop acting like you’re not interested.”
“Okay, was he?”
“Yes, he was.” Meg lifted her legs onto the chair next to the one in which she sat.
Looking for something to distract herself, Athen picked up Hannah’s water bowl, rinsed it out in the sink, and refilled it.
“Athen, I love you dearly, you know that, but you’re a fool,” Meg said levelly. When Athen started to protest, Meg said, “No, don’t interrupt me. Quentin Forbes is one mighty miserable guy, though not, perhaps, any more miserable than you are. If you do not straighten this out, you will regret it for the rest of your life, and deservedly so.”
“I know,” Athen replied softly.
“You know?” Meg sat up straight in the chair and wrapped her feet around the lower rungs. “Then what are you going to do about it?”
“I guess I’ll have to call him,” she said.
“Don’t ‘guess,’ Athen, do it.” Meg reached down and scooped up her discarded shoes. “I suggest you start rehearsing what you’re going to say. Get it down, then get it over with.” She yawned widely. “God, I’m tired.”
“Let’s lock up, then.” Athen bolted the back door and turned off the light over the sink. “Come on, Meg, we can talk more tomorrow.”
Meg dragged herself up the steps, Athen following thoughtfully behind, mentally searching for an opening line.
24
Damn! I overslept!” Meg blew into the kitchen at ten the next morning. “Brenda said she’d pick me up at eleven.”
“Calm down.” Athen shoved a mug of coffee in Meg’s general direction. “You still have an hour.”
“An hour to shower and find something to wear. I only brought the suit I wore yesterday. What was I thinking? I can’t show up in the same thing.” Meg tried to untangle her hair with her fingers. “And anyway, the skirt’s wrinkled.”
“I’ll iron the skirt while you’re in the shower, and you can borrow a top from me.” Athen stuck the mug into her hands and pointed her in the general direction of the stairs. “Go take your shower. I’ll find something for you to wear.”
A Different Light Page 28
