A Different Light (49 page)

“Like what?”

“Like what you do, that kind of stuff.” Callie shrugged it off.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her you had a job, that your job was to make
sure that things were done right in Woodside Heights because you were the mayor,” recited Callie. “And that this year I taught you how to plant flowers and we had a big garden and that you were a fast learner.”

“Thank you, Callie.” Athen rubbed her daughter’s shoulders and wondered how the information had been received by Quentin’s curious sister.

“Did I say something wrong?” Callie turned her earnest little face to her mother.

“Of course not.” Athen kissed the top of Callie’s head.

“Good.” Callie grinned. “Can we go food shopping now? We have no snacks.”

MY JOB IS TO MAKE
sure that things are done right in Woodside Heights,
Athen mused after she had turned off her bedroom light later that night.
Out of the mouths of babes. And to that end, I will ask Ms. Evelyn to meet me for lunch tomorrow.

She turned over and stretched her hand out to the emptiness on the other side of the bed. She closed her eyes and wished she could open them and find herself back in the house overlooking the ocean, where the bed had never been empty and the world had not extended beyond the one she and Quentin made for each other. For just a few short days, the hours had been filled with love and warmth and a kind of peace she’d forgotten existed.

That first big step had not been so difficult after all. Now she looked forward to the rest of the journey.

“PAPA, THERE’S SOMEONE I WANT
you to meet.” Athen knelt before her father, her eyes sparkling, her hand holding on to Quentin’s. “Papa, this is Quentin Forbes.”

“Mr. Stavros.” Quentin pulled a stool up to the wheelchair. “I have heard so much about you from Athen. I am honored to meet you.”

“Quentin and I have been seeing a lot of each other, Papa. I wanted you to know him, and I want him to know you.”

Ari’s eyes softened as they went from Athen’s face to Quentin’s and back to rest on his daughter.

They made small talk for a few minutes, Athen reading a short story Callie had written in school for which she’d won an award. When she’d finished, Quentin suggested she take a walk down to the pond.

“I’d like a few minutes with your father, if you don’t mind,” he told her.

“All right.” She was curious, but didn’t press him. Instead, she kissed her father on the cheek and wandered off by herself.

Almost a half hour passed before Quentin joined her on the bench overlooking the pond.

“What on earth were you talking about all this time?” she asked, not happy at having been left out of the conversation for so long.

“Guy stuff.” He shrugged and zipped up his jacket. “They just brought your dad lunch, or I’d still be there. It’s getting nippy. How ’bout I drive you back to work before we both freeze our butts off?”

“Oh, fine.” She needed no coaxing toward the warm car. “When it’s your butt that’s at risk, we get to leave. When it’s my butt …”

“I’ll be more than happy to warm it for you.” He grinned and rubbed her bottom briskly.

“Quentin!” She laughed while trying to protest. “What if someone sees you?”

“‘Mayor mauled by newsman.’” He opened her car door. “‘Film at eleven’ …”

“YOU’RE SO LUCKY, MRS. MORAN.”
Veronica sighed and watched Quentin walk from Athen’s office to the elevator. “I swear if my Salvatore was not the natural hunk that he is . . .”

Athen peered over the rims of her glasses, thinking how amused Quentin would be to have been compared to that “natural hunk” who was the apex of Veronica’s young life.

“You want me to put this over here, by the sofa?” Veronica was carrying a tray to prepare for Athen’s lunch with Ms. Evelyn. “Mr. Forbes isn’t staying? You said to order three of everything.”

“Ms. Bennett will here, too,” Athen told her.

Thinking perhaps the occasion called for a little more political savvy than she herself possessed, Athen had, as an afterthought, called Diana to discuss her plan. As suspected, Diana agreed that Ms. Evelyn would be a perfect opponent for the Rossi forces, and had volunteered to help convince Ms. Evelyn of the fact.

“As much as I hate to see him run unopposed,” Ms. Evelyn said later, after Athen had outlined her plan, “if Dan is going to build that hotel complex he announced in his press conference yesterday, he’ll at least be bringing jobs into the city. I can’t even offer the voters that much. The very idea of building a luxury hotel while folks are sleeping in doorways.” She shook her head. “It makes me see red just to think about all those city blocks being used for some damned fool hotel instead of what the city really needs.”

“What’s that, Ms. Evelyn?” Diana asked.

“Well, the shelter aside, let’s start with the fact that this city has no true medical center, no emergency facilities.” The old woman jabbed an index finger in the air for emphasis. “And we need a community center, with a job training center and a place where folks can learn basic skills. There are folks in Woodside Heights who cannot read or do basic math. Let’s do things that could help people learn to help themselves.”

“I love your ideas, Ms. Evelyn, and you’re exactly right. That’s exactly what the city needs, but I doubt any of those things were part of the deal the Dan made with Schraeder,” Diana said softly. “But the UCC does still hold the leases on the property. You could refuse to turn them back to the city.”

“And be accused of blocking the jobs that would result from the development of that area?” Ms. Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so, Diana. Tempted though I’d be, at least some folks would be working. I just don’t see the point in opposing him without having anything better to offer the city.”

“AND SHE’S RIGHT,” A GLUM
Athen told Quentin over dinner that evening. “Ms. Evelyn may be the best person to beat Rossi one on one, but he’s holding all the cards. Some jobs are better than no jobs.”

“What if she had something else to offer as a better choice?” Quentin asked thoughtfully.

“Something like what?” Athen frowned.

“Like the medical center, for example.”

“Right, ’cause, you know, they grow on trees. Do you have any idea what that would cost?”

“Roughly.” He smiled at the waitress who served their salads. “What happened at your meeting with the federal grant people?”

“Not encouraging.” She shook her head. “We’d have
to hire someone just to fill out the forms and complete the applications. It would be so far down the road, Rossi would have his hotel built and operational before we could even get the preliminary paperwork done.”

“Hmmm …” He dug into his salad, lost in thought.

“What are you thinking?” she asked after he’d sat wordlessly for several minutes.

“Oh, just that if there ever was someone whose dreams should come true, it’s Ms. Evelyn.”

“Well, unless we can find her a fairy godmother within the next few weeks, it won’t matter.” Athen picked at her salad.

“A fairy godmother …” he repeated, his mouth sliding into a slow grin. “Yes. Exactly. A fairy godmother …”

ON VALENTINE’S DAY MORNING, QUENTIN
showed up at her office bearing not the expected bouquet of roses or a satin encased box of chocolates, but a long cardboard tube tied with a big red bow.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“What is it?” Athen stood to examine the cylinder.

“Open it and find out.”

She tugged at the rolled-up papers inside the tube, casting mystified glances in his direction. Finally, she withdrew the contents and opened them flat across the surface of her desk.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed when she realized what she’d unrolled. “Oh, my God …”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” He grinned.

“How did you ever get this done so quickly?” she gasped.

“Actually, I didn’t. These were the plans for the
medical center Caitlin wanted to build outside of Chicago, but the deal on the site she wanted fell through. So I called her and asked her if she’d consider moving her operation to Woodside Heights.”

“How could she afford to do this?”

“With a generous donation from the Bradford Foundation.” He rubbed her back, and found her shoulders were trembling.

“The Bradford Foundation,” she repeated blankly.

“Mom controls the discretionary funds.”

“Do you think she would …?” Athen could barely get the words out.

“She already has,” he told her, obviously pleased with himself.

“Oh, Quentin …” The full import of his words dawned on her. “Oh, Quentin, I truly love you …”

“Well, if I’d known this was what it would take to pry those words of out of you, I’d have called Caitlin sooner.”

“You are unbelievable!” She all but danced gleefully into his arms. “Quentin, do you know what this means?”

“Yes.” He kissed her soundly. “It means Evelyn Wallace will be the next mayor of Woodside Heights.”

BY THE END OF MARCH,
the campaign turned into a hotly contested race. Ms. Evelyn, to Dan Rossi’s utter amazement, had found a plan that spoke to the voters in a way that he could not. Though still favored in the polls, Dan’s margin was clearly eroding. Athen worked tirelessly with her candidate, vowing to do whatever was necessary to ensure a victory for the tiny woman who would save the city from itself.

Beginning to feel that a win might be possible after all, Athen spent a long weekend with Quentin at the beach house, the first time they’d been alone for more than a
few hours in weeks. They walked on the beach and made love in front of the fire, and savored every minute of their forty-eight-hour respite. When they returned to Woodside Heights, they were refreshed and renewed, ready to resume the battle.

A sobbing Callie met them in the driveway.

“Mommy … Mommy,” she choked.

“Oh, God, Callie.” Athen jumped from the car and grabbed her daughter. “What’s happened?”

“Mommy, Ms. Evelyn …” The weeping child flung herself onto her mother.

Meg rounded the side of the house.

“She had a heart attack.” Meg answered the unspoken question.

“Oh, no. …” Athen collapsed backward onto Quentin’s car, holding Callie’s shaking form. “Oh, no. …”

“When?” Quentin asked.

“About two hours ago,” Meg told them. “Riley just called from the hospital. She’s hanging in there, at least for now, but apparently it doesn’t look good.”

“Can we go see her?” Callie sobbed.

“Not until she’s stable, sweetie.” Athen rubbed Callie’s back.

“She’s in ICU, honey,” Meg told Callie. “They don’t let kids under sixteen into that unit.”

“What’s ICU?” Callie turned and asked.

“It’s the part of the hospital where they treat people who are really sick and try to make them better,” Meg explained.

“But you could go, right?” Callie looked up at her mother. “You could go and see how she is and tell her …” Her lips began to tremble.

“Yes, we can do that.” Athen looked over her daughter’s head to Quentin. “We could go to the hospital and
see if we can get any information.”

“Will you let me know if she’s all right?” Callie asked.

“Of course. You stay here with Aunt Meg, and we’ll call you as soon as we know something.”

Callie backed away from the car, and Quentin and Athen got back in. He drove slowly from the driveway and down to the first block, where he made a left, then took off like a rocket.

They were directed to the third-floor waiting room, where they found the Reverend Davison and Riley and Georgia Fallon. The minister had just finished leading a prayer when Quentin and Athen arrived.

“We just heard,” Athen told them. “How is Ms. Evelyn doing?”

“She’s holding her own right now, and that’s a good sign,” Riley replied. “Her daughter is in with her now. I expect as soon as she gets an update, she’ll let us know.”

Athen and Quentin took seats across from the others, and they all sat wrapped in their own thoughts. Quentin offered to get coffee from the cafeteria for everyone, and Riley went along with him. They had just returned and passed around the Styrofoam cups when the door to the waiting room opened and Dan Rossi came in.

“Where is Ms. Evelyn’s daughter?” he asked without bothering to greet anyone in the room.

“She’s in with her mother,” the Reverend Davison told him.

“Has there been any word yet on Ms. Evelyn’s condition?” Rossi asked with the greatest concern.

“She’s coming around,” the minister told him.

“Good, good.” Dan nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

Athen met Quentin’s eyes over the top of her coffee
cup.

He’s such a phony jerk,
she thought, and Quentin nodded as if he could read her mind.

Dan stood by the door, his hands clasped in front of him, his demeanor somber as befitted the occasion, but no one in the room doubted that his reason for being there had nothing to do with concern for the woman’s health. His gaze locked on Athen’s, and she saw from across the room how his eyes gleamed.

Twenty minutes later, Lily, Ms. Evelyn’s daughter, came in to thank them for being there.

“Mom knows you’re all here, and she said to tell you that she appreciates it and that she’s going to be just fine. She’s going to have to take it easy for a time, but she’s going to be all right,” she told them. “Unfortunately, she’s going to have to give up a number of things that are most dear to her heart.” She turned to Athen. “She asked me to tell you that she’s so very sorry, but she’s going to have to drop out of this race she’s in.”

“Of course she does.” Athen took the woman’s hands. “You tell her that the only thing we want is for her to make a full recovery. Her health is more important than anything else. We can find another candidate, but we could never replace her. You tell her that as soon as she’s feeling up to it, Callie and I want to come in and visit for a while with her.”

“I’ll do that, Athen.” Lily squeezed Athen’s hands and turned to give a hug to Georgia.

Diana’s description of how Dan had fled to the hospital when he’d heard Ari had suffered a stroke came suddenly to mind, and Athen knew instinctively that Dan had worn the same malevolent look of triumph then that he wore now. How fortunate for Dan that fate appeared
to have intervened not once, but twice, sparing him from engaging in a final fight.