A Different Kind of Forever(25)

“He’s driving that old truck,” Angela called out, watching from her picture window, “so I don’t think he’s worried about making a big impression.” She watched as Diane got out of the truck.

“Well, she’s got a great haircut,” she said loudly enough for her sisters to hear, “and she’s not one of those anorexic types he’s usually with. She’s not wearing those horrible hip-huggers.”

“She used to wear those horrible hip-huggers herself,” Marie observed wryly, as she got up from the kitchen stool and followed Steve and Denise. They crowded the window, watching Michael and Diane herd the little girls up to the house.

“It’s Diane.” Denise announced triumphantly.

“She looks familiar,” Angela said slowly. “I know her.”

“Really? From where?” Denise asked.

“I don’t know.” Angela frowned.

Angela opened the front door and kissed her brother. She looked at Diane.

“Oh my God,” Angela burst out. “Dr. Matthews.”

Michael looked at Diane and raised his eyebrows. “Doctor?”

Diane stared at Angela blankly for a second, then her mouth dropped open in recognition. “Dr. Bellini?”

Michael looked from one to the other. “Diane, I guess you know my sister Angela?”

“Yes, of course.” Angela exclaimed. “Oh, it is such a small world.”

Diane was shaking her head. “Michael, you should have told me your sister taught at Merriweather.”

Michael shrugged. “How do you two know each other?”

“I was on the screening committee for her play.” Angela explained.

“Play?” Michael looked at Diane in surprise. “You wrote a play?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful,” Angela gushed. “She wrote it, what, three years ago? In Sam’s class, you know, Sam French, his class for writers. He was so impressed he did a reading workshop last year, and this year it’s scheduled for when, Diane, October?”

“Yes.” Diane felt herself blushing. “They’re casting this summer.” She looked around. Everyone was staring at her. “It’s pretty exciting.”

Michael had a half-smile on his lips. “That’s fantastic,” he said, and at the tone in his voice, all his sisters exchanged looks.

“So how is Rachel?” Angela asked. Angela had taught Diane’s oldest daughter speech and diction when Rachel was in Merriweather’s drama program.

“Oh, she’s great - tending bar in a French restaurant in mid-town, taking a class at the New School, and doing some workshop downtown, a thirty-minute Shakespeare company, where they edit each play down to five characters and one hundred lines.” Diane was shaking her head. “I’m dreading her first performance. I know I’ll run out of the place screaming.”

“Her daughter is a genius,” Angela explained. “Seriously. Double major, in French and Drama, and she blew us all away.”

“Yes, Rachel packs a punch, all right.” Diane looked around. The women were all watching her carefully. She wondered what they were imagining between her and their younger brother. She felt suddenly uncomfortable.

Michael, as if sensing her mood, put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Angie, where’s Nick?”

Angela explained about the playground project in the back yard, and Michael brightened.

“Well, look, why don’t I go out back and help? Ang, you don’t really need me. Steve, you can use a hand, right?”

Angela fixed her eye on him. “You’re related to me, not them. I’m the one who needs the help. Nick is an architect. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

“Nick designs airports,” Michael explained to Diane. “I don’t see how that qualifies him to put together a swing set.”

Diane grinned as Steve shrugged helplessly. “We were hoping you’d bring somebody who could read Japanese,” Steve said, “so at least we’d know what the instructions say.”

Diane lifted her shoulders. “Sorry, I really can’t help you there. I just know paint.”

“Thanks for coming to help out,” Angela said, smiling. “I’ve never done this sort of paint job before.”

“No problem,” Diane said, “It’s really very simple. Just lots of prep work.” She took the level from Michael. “This is all we need.”