A Different Light (15 page)

“Your Honor.” Meg feigned a curtsy and Athen laughed.

“God, it’s good to see you. You look great. I love the new hair.” Athen held Meg at arm’s length, inspecting the short permed curls that fell around Meg’s face, replacing the miles of honey blond hair she’d sported all her life.
“It’s wonderful, Meg, you look ten years younger.”

“Music to my ears. Oh, honey, where’d you get that tree?” Meg stood, hands on her hips, surveying the scrawny little number Athen had dragged home over the weekend.

“I told you it was too small.” Callie turned to her mother with an accusatory air. “I told you it was a poor excuse for a tree. Daddy always brought home perfect trees.”

Athen exchanged a chagrined look with Meg, then attempted to put her arms around Callie. “It was as perfect as I could find five days before Christmas. And it was the biggest one I could fit on top of my little car. I’m sorry if it falls short of your expectations, Callie.”

“Daddy would never have brought home a tree like that,” Callie insisted, tears welling up as she shook her mother off.

“It’ll be grand when we get the lights and all the decorations on,” Meg assured her as she draped her coat over the back of the sofa. “You’ll see. It’ll be beautiful. We’ll make it beautiful.”

“Fat chance,” grumbled Callie. “And besides, Daddy always puts the lights on.”

“And who do you think taught your father to do so masterful a job, hmmm? None other than his little sister, that’s who. We can take care of this sucker in no time flat. Athen, lights, please.”

Athen produced the lights and ornaments as Meg sorted through the boxes, checking each strand to make sure all the bulbs worked. Soon the little tree had been transformed and they stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Oh, the angel!” Athen poked around to find the box
and drew out the angel she’d bought for their first tree. “Callie, it’s your job.”

“I can’t do it this year.” Her bottom lip trembled. “There’s no one to lift me to the top.”

“Oh, but the tree’s not so tall. I’ll bet a chair would do the trick.” Athen dragged in a chair from the dining room. It elevated Callie just enough to reach the top of the tree and gently place the angel on the uppermost branch.

“Wonderful!” Meg clapped her hands.

“See, it’s not so bad.” Athen nodded at the tree.

“It’s not the same, though.” Callie fought bravely to blink back tears.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not the same,” agreed Athen, her heart breaking along with her child’s.

“I think I’ll go to bed, now,” Callie told them quietly. “Good night, Aunt Meg. I’m glad you’re here. Good night, Mom.”

She kissed them both and headed up the steps stiffly.

“Oh, Athen …” Meg shook her head sadly.

“It’s very hard for her, Meg. She and John were so close, they did so much together. I knew she’d have an especially hard time with the holiday.”

“And you?” Meg asked.

“It’s a little easier for me, I guess. I’m an adult. But still . . .” She glanced at the tree. “I can tell you a story about every item on that tree. Those pinecones—John and Callie gathered them in the park and brought them home and sprayed them gold. Callie was five that year. The plaster angels—we made them three years ago in little plastic molds John found in a toy store. The papier-mâché bells—John made them for Callie her first Christmas.”

“Stop,” begged Meg, and before either of them knew what was happening, they were seated on the floor, leaning
against each other, crying their eyes out.

“Oh, God, I hope Callie didn’t hear us,” Meg sniffed when the storm of tears had begun to subside.

“I should go check on her.” Athen stood up.

“Get a tissue and dry your face before you go upstairs,” Meg cautioned. “You look ghastly.”

“
I
look ghastly!” Athen laughed shakily. “You should see your face. You’ve got mascara down to your lower lip.”

“I must look like a raccoon.” Meg helped herself to a tissue and rubbed the skin below her eyes. “Better?”

“Much,” Athen replied as she went up the steps to her daughter’s room. “I’ll be back down as soon as I check in with Callie.”

MEG HAD MADE TEA AND
it had cooled by the time Athen joined her in the living room.

“Is she okay?” Meg asked.

“She’s better, but she’s hurting,” Athen told her. “I think she feels guilty about celebrating Christmas without her dad. I think she feels like she’s betrayed him by having a good time decorating the tree without him.”

“I think that’s normal,” noted Meg. “It’s hard for a child to grasp a concept like “Life goes on.” The last thing in the world John would have wanted for any of us would have been for our lives to stop when his did. You both have a lot of miles to go, you know, and he would have wanted you to enjoy every mile of the journey.”

Athen nodded thoughtfully.
Izoie synehizete,
her father would say. “Life goes on.”

“So tell me how it feels to be the duly elected mayor of Woodside Heights. Ha! What a kick.” Meg slid her shoes off, pulled her feet under her, and settled onto the
sofa for a long chat.

They sat and talked until well past two, switching from tea to a glass of wine to toast Athen’s new position and Meg’s homecoming.

“So all in all, it’s been pretty smooth sailing,” Athen told her as she emptied her glass. “Everyone’s been pretty nice to me. Dan gives me advice whenever I need it, which is every day. The only real problems I have are with Council and this one damned reporter for the
Herald
who’s made it his life’s work to make me as miserable and look as foolish as possible.”

“Oh?” Meg poured a second glass of wine for herself, offering a refill to Athen, who declined.

“Council generally ignores me and the reporter won’t leave me alone.” She pulled her feet up under her.

“What do you mean, Council ignores you?” Meg asked curiously. “How can they ignore you? You’re the mayor.”

“Well, there’s only one member of Council who’s very …
active,
I guess is the best word. He and the solicitor both talk to Dan every day, so I guess by the time we meet in the afternoon there’s not a whole lot left to talk about.” As she spoke, she realized how ineffectual she sounded.

“Wait a minute.” Meg held up a hand to stop her. “I thought you replaced Dan as mayor.”

Athen nodded. “I did.”

“So why is he still talking to … who’s he talking to, anyway?”

“The president of Council, Jim Wolmar, and Harlan Justis, the city solicitor.”

“Do they talk to you?”

“Not so much.”

“Why not?”

“Well …” Athen sought an explanation that would make her look less stupid than she felt at that minute.

“Do you let Rossi tell you what to do?” Meg’s tone was accusatory.

“He gives me advice.” Athen chose her words carefully.

“And you do what he suggests you do.”

“Most of the time,” Athen admitted, then nodded slowly, adding, “I guess all of the time.”

“Why do you do that? Why do you let him tell you what to do?” Meg pressed.

“Well, I guess because he knows more than I do about what’s going on.”

“What are you doing to educate yourself? What steps have you taken to become informed on your own?”

“I haven’t really had much time to get into things as much as I’d like to.” Athen squirmed uncomfortably under Meg’s glare. “I’ve only been in office for two months. Not even two months.”

“Well, what do you do when you don’t agree with him?”

“Well, I pretty much always agree with him.”

“Because he tells you he’s right?” Meg stared at Athen in disbelief.

“Pretty much, but he knows what’s best for …”

“Don’t you have your own agenda, things you think are important?”

“Of course I do,” Athen defended herself staunchly. “I’ll get to them. I mean, I plan to, but other things seem to keep popping up that need to be tended to.”

“Things Dan tells you to tend to? Things he thinks are important?”

“Look, Meg, you’re not born knowing how to run
a city. Dan has years of experience. I have none. I don’t think it’s so odd that he gives me advice. I’m sure if my dad could, he’d be advising me, too.”

“Giving you advice is one thing. Telling you what to do is something else.” Meg stared at her. “You do know the difference, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But, Meg, there’s so much to learn. I’m trying my best, but there’s just so damned much.”

“Just let me get this straight.” Meg tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa. “Dan asks you to run for mayor, gets you elected, then tells you what to do, so effectively he’s still the mayor.”

Athen did not respond.

“Athen,” Meg said quietly, “if Dan still wanted to be mayor, why didn’t he just run again? … Why did he talk you into running?”

“Because he’d already served four consecutive terms.” The true meaning of the words became clear as glass as she spoke them aloud. “And that’s all the city charter allows.”

“So after your term he can run again . . .” Meg spoke the obvious.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Athen had never felt so small, so much a fool in her life. “I guess so.”

They sat in silence for a very long moment.

“No wonder the press beats up on you,” Meg said after a time. “I’d be beating up on you, too, if I covered Woodside Heights.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you make it sound.” Athen struggled to defend Dan as well as herself. “Dan really knows this city, he loves it. He knows what’s best …”

“In whose opinion?” Meg challenged her. “Besides his own, I mean.”

“I-I guess in everyone’s opinion,” Athen told her. “He was a great mayor, Meg, he’s done more for this city than …”

“Like what? Name three major things he’s accomplished over the past eight years and I’ll get off your back and never bring it up again.” Meg crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

Athen thought hard.

“Has he brought new business into the city? More jobs?” Meg asked.

Athen thought of the layoffs announced just two weeks ago at the paper plant, only one of several factories to suffer severe setbacks over the past two years.

“Has he been able to make a dent in the drug problem? Hired new law enforcement officers, encouraged a town watch in the inner-city neighborhoods?”

Athen recalled a conversation she’d had with one of John’s classmates from the police academy back around Thanksgiving. He was thinking of quitting the force. Their weapons were outdated, there were not enough men on the streets, and there was indifference at the top to the problems facing the rank and file. He’d expressed the hope that Athen would take a more aggressive approach.

“Has he formulated a plan to rejuvenate the business district? Improve public housing?” Meg’s finely honed ability to see clearly to the heart of things was developed through years as an investigative reporter, and later as a news anchor. She quickly sifted through facts and discarded sentimentality.

Athen thought of the recent HUD report that had declared Woodside Heights’s public housing “grossly inadequate.” Of the boarded-up, abandoned buildings in the northern sections of the city.

“Seems to me that the most significant thing Mr. Rossi has done in eight years is to find a way to serve eight more,” Meg noted bluntly.

“Well, I guess it’s been obvious to everyone but me.” Athen was suddenly sick to her stomach. Dan had needed someone to hold his place in line, and she’d agreed to do it for him. “You must think I’m a total idiot.” She covered her face with her hands.

“I know better.” Meg rubbed her shoulders. “But I do think Dan Rossi knew exactly what he was doing when he picked you to be his successor.”

“Yeah. ‘I’ll get Athen to run. She’s stupid enough …‘” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Not stupid, babe. Naïve, yes. Trusting, yes. But not stupid, okay?” Meg moved closer and put an arm around Athen. “Look, wasn’t he your dad’s friend all those years? They worked together on the City Council, right? I’ll bet your dad was a big supporter of Rossi’s, too.”

Athen nodded.

“So he’s a trusted family friend, and you’ve been brought up to show respect and to defer to your elders. Why wouldn’t you trust him? You had no reason to suspect him or his motives. Add in the big losses you’ve had to deal with over the past few years—your dad’s stroke, losing John—Rossi came on like a father figure, I’m betting. Took you under his wing, convinced you that you’d be a natural, and, oh, yeah, he’d always be there to advise you, right?”

When Athen nodded, Meg continued, putting it all in perspective. “So, of course, when he approached you, you had no reason to look for an ulterior motive. Why would you?”

“The way he explained it, me running for mayor would be a good thing for the city, something my dad and
John would be proud of.” Athen began to cry.

“They will be,” Meg assured her.

Athen looked up at her. “How could they be? I’ve allowed myself to be a pawn. Even if Dan only wants to be mayor again so that he can do really good things for the city, I still allowed myself to be used.”

“Yes, you did.” Meg sat back against the sofa. “But now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

What was it Quentin had said to her that day in the park? Ask: What’s in it for me? What’s in it for him?

Everyone had known all along what was in it for Rossi—everyone, apparently, except Athen.

What was in it for her remained to be seen.

 10