A Different Kind Of Forever (2 page)

Diane grinned. “You’re awful. He is a perfectly nice man, why do you pick on him so much?”

“Because he honestly believes the spaceship is due back any day now. Isn’t that why you stopped dating him?”

“No. Well, maybe. He was a little too cerebral for me.”

Marianne snorted delicately. “And this from a woman who reads Tibetan poetry for fun. How about a movie this weekend? Something in English, please?”

Diane nodded. “Sure. Saturday night. But we’ll have to make it late. Megan’s car-wash fundraiser is Saturday, and I’ve got the afternoon shift.”

“You’ll be washing cars? In public? Lord, Diane, surely you could just write a check?”

Diane began to gather up her books. “I’m a single parent, remember, trying to live on a professor’s salary. I don’t have the disposable income of certain, unencumbered people. Besides, it’ll be fun, out in the sunshine, playing with hoses and soapy water.”

“Playing with hoses? God, I could never be a parent.”

Diane smiled. “Maybe not. Can you walk with me? I have an issue, I think, with my class.”

They walked across campus, Diane explaining her problem with trying to get an outline together. Marianne agreed to get a meeting together next week, they picked a movie for Saturday, and parted. Diane had two classes, both senior seminars. They were her favorite classes, and they sped by. Afterwards, she ran into the grocery store and then hurried home to her daughters.

The week went by quickly. On Friday morning, Emily mentioned that her father would be picking the girls up early. Diane looked at her suspiciously.

“What? What are you cooking up now?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “He just needs to talk to you, okay? It’s not such a big deal.”

Diane looked at Megan, who lifted her shoulders and shook her head. “Sorry Mom, not a clue.”

Emily huffed and ran back upstairs. Diane looked back at Megan, who was putting her cereal bowl in the sink.

“Megan, tell me,” Diane asked. “Please? Whenever she gets that look in her eye, I know there’s trouble.”

Megan twisted her lips together. “She was talking to Alison about the shore this summer.”

Suddenly, Diane knew. “Okay. Not a problem.”
 

She was on good terms with Kevin, her ex-husband. Theirs had not been a dramatic divorce. They had just grown apart. He would have probably been willing to go on indefinitely, but Diane found herself increasingly unhappy, and they finally separated. He had since re-married, to a much younger woman, who was expecting their first child in September. He had also been talking about buying a house on Long Beach Island, and spending the summer there. Diane could imagine that the idea of spending the entire summer within sight of the ocean, not to mention all those boys, would be irresistible to Emily. Diane smiled ruefully to herself. She would have loved it at that age. Hell, she’d love it now. Diane chewed her lip for a moment. It would be interesting to see how Emily would approach her.

That afternoon, when Kevin came to pick up the girls, Emily sat beside him on the couch. Diane looked at him fondly. He was a quiet, attractive man, just over fifty, who still had a great deal of affection and respect for his ex-wife. Kevin put his arm around Emily’s shoulder.

“Well, I want you to know that Victoria and I have gone ahead and bought a shore house. It’s small, just a summer bungalow, but it’s on the beach block. Victoria is going to be living there all summer.” He smiled at Megan, then at Emily. “So, Em, do you have something to ask your mother?”

Emily’s jaw dropped and she looked at her father, stricken. “Dad, I thought you were –“

Kevin shook his head. “You stay with me every weekend and for three weeks in August. If you want anything else, it’s up to your mother.”

Diane raised an eyebrow. Emily glared daggers at her father, and then turned to her mother, carefully re-arranging her face.

“Mom, I’d like to spend all summer at the shore - with Dad and Vicki. Is it okay with you?”

Megan jumped up. “Wait, what about me?”

“Honey,” Kevin said soothingly, “of course this includes you. It’s just that Emily brought it up a few weeks ago, so she and I have been discussing it.”

“Well,” Megan sputtered, “what about Mom? I mean, she’ll be here all alone. I don’t want to leave Mom alone. What would she do? She’s not even going away this summer. She’ll have nothing to do without us here.”

Diane tightened her lips to hide a smile. “Megan, thank you for thinking of me, but I’ll be working all summer. I’ve got a new class to prepare, and there’s the play.”

“Then it’s okay?” Emily asked.
 

Diane fixed her eye on her. “What about the job you were going to get this summer to pay for all the driving you’re supposed to be doing next year?”

Emily squirmed. “I can get a job down there. I can wait tables at the shore just as easily as I can here. And I can walk or ride a bike there, and I can’t here, not really. And besides,” she added, as a final stroke, “I can help Victoria take care of the house. She’s sick because of the pregnancy and needs me.”

Kevin pursed his lips in a silent whistle and met Diane’s eye. Diane had to cough.

“Really? You’re going to help Victoria? Does that mean you’ll be cleaning and doing the cooking for all of you?”

Emily squirmed again, looking thunderous. Diane didn’t let her off the hook.

“How are you going to take care of a house and work? You’re always complaining I do a lousy job of both, that dinner is never ready, that you have to do your own laundry, and numerous other transgressions. Do you think you’ll do a better job?”

Kevin stood up and turned away, running his hand through his hair.
 

“Well, Mom, I could help,” Megan offered. “I do stuff around here. I’d do the same chores down there, if Em wanted. I could, you know, set the table and stuff.”

Emily stood up and stormed around the room. “You’re only saying no to be mean to me, because you never got to spend the summer anywhere cool, you were always moping around dumb Ohio, helping your father, so you just don’t want me to have the greatest summer ever to prove some stupid point, right?”

“I didn’t say no,” Diane said calmly, stopping Emily in her tracks. “I just asked you a question. If you do get a job, and save one thousand dollars, which is what we had talked about before, I see no reason for you not to go. The fact that you’re going to be doing so much for Victoria is just an added bonus. I had no idea you were so concerned about her welfare.”

Emily opened her mouth, realized the trap too late, and shut it again. Clearly torn between feeling grateful at being allowed to go, and being angry at herself for being put in the position of helpmate, she did the smart thing.
 

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Sure. Now, Meg, do you want to go as well? It’s up to you.”

Megan grinned. “I want to go. It will be so cool, going to the beach every day. Will I have to get a job, too?”

Diane shook her head. “Not unless you want extra pocket money. I’m sure you could baby-sit somewhere down there, right, Kev?”

Kevin nodded, once again amazed at the way Diane danced through the minefield that was their middle daughter. Often, Emily would reduce Diane to tears, but Diane had been prepared for this one, and played it just right.

“Okay, let’s go.” Kevin shouted, clapping his hands together. “Move out the troops.” The girls scampered out as they had done when they were babies, when any trip with their Daddy was an adventure. Kevin kissed Diane on the cheek, and followed the girls out.

The next day, the car wash was cancelled out by a day-long spring downpour, so Diane called Marianne and met her for dinner. Afterwards, they went to the movies, then stopped in to a local pub for a drink. Diane was feeling tired and sipped club soda, while Marianne knocked back a straight scotch and lamented the current state of American cinema. Suddenly, she leaned toward Diane and whispered.

“That man at the bar has been staring at you since we got here. Should we invite him over?”

Diane looked at her friend in surprise. “How do you know he’s not staring at you? You’re taller, thinner, and a lot more gorgeous than I am.”

Marianne raised her eyebrows in exasperation. “Diane, I’m a lesbian, remember?”

“True,” Diane admitted. “But you’re not wearing your ‘Bug Off Creep, I’m A Dyke’ sweatshirt.”

“That man is white. Why would he be staring at me?”

“Because he’s not a racist?”

Marianne sighed. “You are such a Pollyanna, Diane. At times, it’s endearing, but it tends to wear thin. I sometimes wonder how we remain friends.”

“Well for my part, you happen to be very politically correct. So many minorities rolled into one. I don’t have to feel guilty about having so many straight WASP’s for friends with you on the roster. I think you like me because when we’re together you can feel superior without having to be too condescending.”

Marianne lifted her eyebrows and made a polite noise. “You may very well be right. Now, about that nice man-“

“No. Forget it.”

 
“Why, are you dating anyone?”

Diane shook her head. “Nope. Not this week. How about you? What happened to the travel agent?”

“She was a racist.”

“I thought she was black.”

“She was. She didn’t think I was black enough.”

“Sorry. I liked her.”

“You like everyone. It’s disgusting how nice you are to people. I bet you know the grocery clerks by name.”

“Evelyn, Maggie, Sophia, Lorraine, -“

“Oh, stop it. Now, you’re just showing off. Do you worry about not having someone in your life? At your age?”

Diane shrugged. “I have lots of people in my life, Marianne - you, my kids, my friends, Evelyn, Maggie, Sophia. I don’t have a man in my life, but that’s fine. I’m really very happy, you know that.”

“Yes,” Marianne mused. “You are a very successful single person. That man at the bar also looks very successful. Are you sure?”

Diane gathered her purse. “I’m tired. Doing nothing all day wore me out. Are you ready?”

Marianne drained her glass, and they left. Diane went home, watched TV with Jasper purring on her lap, and fell asleep on the couch. Sunday was another rainy day. She worked on her play, called her mother in Ohio, and napped until the girls came home.

The week began again, and another Tuesday. She ran errands in the morning, the dry cleaners, the library. She decided to treat herself to Moe’s, a small, crowded deli with great sandwiches. Standing in line, she wavered between corned beef and pastrami, but it was Moe himself who made the choice, wincing at her corned beef request. She picked up a cream soda, and then headed out to Bloomfield Park, a large, green oasis. She parked her car and walked toward a picnic table under a barely leafed-out maple tree, next to the duck pond. She was alone in the park except for a man and a dog playing out on the ball field.

She opened her sandwich and took a bite, then opened her soda. She needed to work on the second act this week. It was running way too long. She was running lines in her head when she heard someone yelling. She looked toward the noise, and jumped up in alarm. The dog that had been romping playfully in the ball field a few moments ago was racing toward her. The animal’s owner was running behind.

“He wants your sandwich,” he yelled. Diane stared at her sandwich, then at the rapidly approaching dog. It was huge, shaggy, long ears streaming back. No way was the owner going to catch it. She grabbed her sandwich in both hands, scrambled on top of the picnic table and stood, waiting.

“He wants your sandwich,” the man yelled again, so she stuck out her hand and the dog bounded up, snatching the sandwich from between her fingertips and landing gracefully a few feet away. Diane stared at the animal in amazement, then turned as the owner came running up to her. He was completely winded, gasping, bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted. “But my dog really loves pastrami.”

Diane stared at him. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The owner of the dog nodded his head. “Oh, I know,” he gulped. “It’s probably the silliest thing I’ve ever had to say.”

Diane began to laugh, a tickle that began in her throat and bubbled up. She felt tears streaming from her eyes. No one would ever believe this. The owner started to laugh with her. He seemed very young, dark hair cut short and as he lifted his smiling face, she saw startling blue eyes, an angular jaw. Suddenly, she stopped laughing.

“Oh, my God. I know you.”

He was still breathing heavily. “I’m Michael Carlucci, and this is Max.” The dog had finished and was sitting quietly at his master’s feet. Michael gazed up at her. “I’m very sorry. Can I help you down?”

“Oh. Yes, please.” She felt suddenly awkward, and reached down to take his hand. She climbed down off the table carefully, her skirt riding to mid-thigh, heels unsteady on the grass. They were suddenly eye to eye. He was not much taller than her, slim, in a white polo shirt tucked into faded jeans, a thin belt around his waist. His arms and hands were beautiful, she noticed, sculpted and strong-looking.

“I’m sorry,” she said, smoothing her skirt. “I thought you were somebody else. You look just like Mickey Flynn.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s me. Michael Flynn Carlucci. I was named for my Irish grandfather.”

“I thought it was you. There’s a life sized poster of you in my daughters’ bedroom. Your hair was longer.”

“Yeah.” He ruffled his hair with his hand. “Well, it’s the end if the tour. I can lose the look.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Are you okay? I mean, he didn’t get your hand or anything, did he?”

“What? No, no I’m fine. This is the most excitement I’ve had in a month. My daughters are never going to believe this.” She stared at her hand. “They will never let me wash this hand again,” she said solemnly.

Michael laughed again. His breathing was back to normal. Max yawned, and began sniffing the grass. “Are they fans?”

“Are you kidding? They’ve been trying to win tickets for weeks. Some contest going on. It’s amazing how much trivia there is out there about you guys.” She leaned toward him. “Do you know what your drummer’s wife’s maiden name is? I do.”