Sweetie's Diamonds (52 page)

She had to laugh at that.
 
She
hated
Darren Marshall for what he had done.
 
At the same time, however, she was grateful to him.
 
It was as if he had turned on the lights in her dark heart so that she could clearly see the depths of her madness.
 
For that was what it was, she admitted to herself.
 
A shrink would eventually help her understand everything better but she knew enough about psychology to realize that she was ill.
 
She could see that her delusions about her sister were at the core of her problems with Greg and the marriage, her self-destructive life in LA as an adult film actress, and her inability to properly deal with Angela Gilliam.
 
After nearly twenty-five years, Angela had shown no signs of recovery from a coma and Diane had stubbornly kept her alive because of a promise made to a phantom.
 
She thought that perhaps it was time to finally let go of that part of her past.

There were other messages from reporters and newscasters and another one from
60 Minutes
, but she deleted them all without bothering to write down numbers.

The last message on the machine was from Nick Belgrad.
 
He stated he was back in New York and for her to let him know when she was going to come and collect the other half of her “belongings.”
 
He wished her well and said he missed her.
 

She smiled at the memory of his scruffy beard, the long Jesus-like hair, and his solid body that smelled of musk.
 
The man had given her more physical pleasure in three days than she had received from anyone in her life, except possibly Angela.
 
Perhaps there really was something there with Nick.
 
It was worth exploring.
 

Diane took the fresh coffee into the living room and turned on the television.
 
She sat on the sofa and found a local morning news show.
 
She watched as the anchors discussed a deadly fire that had occurred in one of the suburbs and a bank robbery that was reported in Chicago.
 
Then the handsome newscaster was handed a piece of paper and he stated, “This just in.
 
Lincoln High School in Lincoln Grove has yet another public relations problem following on the heels of the Porn Star Mom scandal that hit it last week.
 
A teacher has been accused of having sexual relations with a student.
 
Peter Davis, a social studies instructor, has been suspended indefinitely for having an improper relationship with a female senior.
 
The girl's parents filed charges against Davis after their daughter informed them that she was pregnant.”

Diane's mouth dropped open and she sat forward in the seat.
 
The TV showed a video clip of Davis, accompanied by a lawyer, ascending the steps of the courthouse.
 
He looked haggard and attempted to shield his face from the camera.
 

She had to laugh.
 
She set down her coffee cup and laughed so hard that her side hurt.
 
Diane knew who the senior had to be—the lovely Heather.
 
This was rich, she thought.
 
This made her day.

After a while, David got up and wandered into the living room.
 

“Hi, honey,” she said.
 
“Sleep good?”

“Yeah,” he said.
 
“You were really out of it yesterday.
 
Are you okay?”

She held out her arms.
 
He went to her and let her hug him.
 
“I'm fine, honey,” she said.
 
“And I'm gonna get better and better.
 
You'll see.”

“What are we going to do now, mom?”

“How would you like to go live in New York?” she asked.

His eyebrows went up.
 
He had never considered anything that exotic.
 
“Sure.
 
I guess so.
 
I sure want to leave this place.”

She nodded.
 
“Me too.
 
You hungry?”
 

“Starving.”

After they had eaten an elaborate breakfast of pancakes and eggs, she picked up the phone and called Scotty Lewis.
 

“Scotty,” she said, “I'm sorry you had to witness my nervous breakdown yesterday.
 
At least that's what it felt like.”

“Don't think anything of it, Diane, er, Dana,” he said.
 
“What the heck am I supposed to call you now?”

“I'm going to keep the name Diane,” she said.
 
“In honor of my sister.
 
She was the good one.
 
I guess I had the right idea back then after that piece of metal fell on my head.
 
Diane was reborn in my mind and I became her.
 
I can't go back now, it'll be easier this way.”

Lewis didn't comment.
 
“How are you feeling?” he asked instead.

“Much better, thanks.”

“I hope you're going to take my advice and get some professional help?”

“I am.
 
Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

“What's that?”

She took a breath and said, “Call Judy Wilcox.
 
Tell the school board to forget it.
 
I'm not coming back.”

“Really?
 
Are you sure?
 
We can still fight them.”

“Are you kidding?
 
I'm sure she wouldn't want me anywhere
near
her students.
 
And after what happened this morning with Peter Davis…”

“Yeah, I saw that,” he said, chuckling.
 
“Sweet justice, eh?”

“David and I are going to leave Illinois, Scotty.
 
So just tell the school board what they can do with their job.
 
Not in those same words, of course.”

He laughed.
 
“Sure.
 
When do think you'll be leaving?”

“As soon as possible.”

S
he drove south with David, leaving the sprawling Chicago suburbs behind and into the wide-open plains of central Illinois.
 
The two-and-a-half hour drive passed quickly with her son in the car, for they sang along with the radio and made fun of highway signs.
 

As usual, there were no other cars in the visitors' spaces in front of Saint Mary's Convalescent Home.
 
The place was just as quiet and inconspicuous as it had been the day she brought Angela there in 1980.
 

The nun at the reception desk escorted them to Sister Jarrett's office, where the head nun was busy on her computer.
 

“Oh, hello,” she said.
 
“Come in.
 
And who's this young man with you?”

“This is my son, David,” Diane said.
 
“I've brought him to see, uhm, my sister.”
 
Diane had decided that she wouldn't confuse the nuns with the details of Angela's real identity.
 
Every legal document that pertained to the patient bore the name Dana Barnett.
 
The only people who knew that she was really Angela Gilliam were Diane, Scotty, and Darren Marshall.
 
Scotty had prepared the life support termination papers and Diane had decided to make the deal with Marshall in exchange for a sum of money and an agreement that he would never reveal the woman's true identity as well as her own.
 

After presenting the appropriate paperwork to Sister Jarrett, Diane asked, “When will this be done?”

The sister replied, “Doctor Patterson will of course need to see this and be on hand.
 
I imagine it will be done in the next day or two.
 
I can let you know—”

“I don't want to be here,” Diane said.
 
The sister looked surprised.
 
“I mean, I just, want you to take care of it and let me know when the funeral home should come and pick her up.
 
I've made all the arrangements, as you can see there in the folder I just gave you.”

Sister Jarrett nodded and said, “Yes, everything appears to be in order.”
 
She looked hard at Diane and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

Diane sighed.
 
“Yes, sister.
 
It's been a long time.
 
Dana needs to rest in peace, don't you think?”

“I'm sure that Christ will welcome her into Heaven.
 
Mercy is a subjective term and can be interpreted in a number of ways, on a case by case basis.
 
It is not my place to pass judgement on what family members should do in a case such as this one, but if it will make you feel better I can say this with a clear conscience—and that is I think you're doing the right thing.”

“Thank you, sister,” Diane said.
 
“May we see her now?”

“Of course.”

The nun led them into the private room where Angela lay like the Sleeping Beauty.
 
When they were alone, Diane said to her son, “This is your aunt, David.
 
I'm sorry you never got to know her.
 
But it's time for me to say goodbye to her, so I suppose you must, too.”

David looked at the comatose woman and didn't know what to say.
 
He just nodded and held his mother's hand.

Diane leaned close to Angela, kissed her on the forehead and then lightly on the lips.

“Goodbye, Sweetie,” she said.
 
“Take care of yourself.”

Diane brushed back a tear, touched Angela's hand one last time, and then left the building with her son.

I
t was dark by the time Diane and David returned to the little apartment in Lincoln Grove.
 
The drive back from central Illinois had been remarkably different from the journey down.
 
David noticed that Diane was quiet and introspective, despite his attempts to start up some car games.
 
She had put a stop to it by simply saying, “I'm not in the mood, honey.”
 
The entire experience at Saint Mary's was bizarre for David—he never knew he
had
an aunt, much less one that was in a coma for twenty-five years.
 
It was difficult for him to feel any kind of emotion for the woman.
 

“What do you want for dinner?” his mother asked him as they pulled into the one-car garage.
 

“At this point, anything,” David replied.
 
“I'm hungry, are you?”

She shrugged.
 
“I guess.”
 
They got out of the car, unlocked the door to the kitchen, and then punched the button to close the automatic garage door.
 

David turned on the lights in the kitchen and proceeded to walk through the living room toward his bedroom.
 
Diane put her purse on the kitchen counter and then opened the refrigerator to see what she could improvise for supper.
 

“Hey, mom,” David called from the hallway.

“What?”

“Come here.”

“I'm trying to figure out what to do for dinner, honey.
 
What is it?”

“You better come here.”

He sounded strange.
 
Diane closed the fridge and went to the front hall where David was standing.

“Look,” he said, pointing to the front door.
 
It was slightly ajar.
 

“Didn't I lock the front door?” Diane asked, horrified.
 
She went closer and then saw that the lock was smashed.
 
Someone had broken into the apartment.
 
“David,” she said softly.
 
“Go back into the kitchen.”