A Different Kind of Forever(51)

They spent most of their time at Michael’s house. He would work all morning in his studio. David Go, the elfin Irishman who had been tapped to do the orchestration of the score, had moved into one of Michael’s guestrooms. Seth Bascomb had moved into another. Seth owned five different homes, but none in New Jersey, so he always stayed at Michael’s.

Diane started spending mornings on the sailboat. She had spent enough time with Michael that she felt confident enough to go out on her own. She would go over to Merriweather in the afternoons to prepare for her new class. A graduate level class, an analysis of three works by Arthur Miller, required at great deal of research. This was the kind of work she had not done since her doctorate days, and she enjoyed it thoroughly.

She was invited to Marie’s for the Fourth of July. Marie and Steve had a beautiful 100 year old Victorian in Madison, with high ceilings and beautiful woodwork. Out back there was a large yard and a patio and pool. When she and Michael arrived, the place was already crowded with family, Marie’s friends and co-workers, as well as Steve’s family. Steve was a director for a major pharmaceutical house, and he had invited his whole department.

They mingled with the crowd. Diane had been accepted warmly by his family. Marie waved happily at them, and a few minutes later, Angela came running up to them, her face flushed with the heat.

“I have some hot news for you, Diane.” Angela said, giving Michael a quick kiss on the cheek “Guess who’s back in the States and planning on returning to Merriweather?”

“Not a clue,” Diane said, taking a sip of cold white wine.

“Quinn Harris.” Angela said excitedly. “He’s bringing his Coward revival, the one that did so well last season in London, to the St. James for a limited run, sometime in the spring. Sam told me all about it. So Quinn asked about taking on another class here, this fall. Isn’t that great? That would be such a coup for Sam, getting him back. We got a lot of attention last time, remember? And with your play going on while he’s here could mean some impressive coverage, don’t you think?”

Diane had to take a deep breath. Quinn Harris, back at Merriweather.

“That’s great. For Sam I mean,” Diane said. “Quinn is quite a catch.”

“Who’s Quinn Harris?” Michael asked.

Angela told him. “He’s a very famous director in England, and he was here a few years ago as a visiting Professor. It was very exciting for us drama types.”

Michael had been watching Diane’s face. “Did you know him?” he asked casually.

Diane met his eyes. “Yes. Usually I wouldn’t be hanging around the Merriweather drama department, but Sam had just decided to workshop my play, so I did get to know him.” She smiled briefly, then caught sight of Marie. “Your sister looks like she could use some help.” She gulped more wine and moved away from Michael.

Her heart was pounding. Quinn was returning. She never imagined she would see him again. She could hear voices around her, but they seemed to be at a great distance, and her hands and lips turned icy cold. Quinn.

She had been invited to a cocktail party to welcome Quinn Harris to campus, and she had not wanted to go. But Sam French had insisted, and from the moment she saw Quinn, she could not take her eyes from him. He caught her staring at him, and when she did not turn away, he made his way slowly across the room until it was just the two of them, standing in a quiet corner, talking for a few minutes that made all the difference in the world to both of them. They met the next day for coffee, early in the morning, and by dinner that evening she had fallen, so swiftly and surely that she could not even remember how she had felt about her life before she met him. That evening he told her about his wife. He would leave her, he said. They would be together. They were meant to be together. And she had believed him. But in the end she had said no. He was married. She said no, and her heart had broken.

Diane reached over to take a basket of grilled chicken from Marie’s hands, setting it on the table. Now Quinn was divorced and coming back. She had not thought about him in months, certainly not since Michael. Now, knowing she would see him again caused a powerful reaction, totally unexpected and unwelcome. Diane had no desire to face him again. She did not want any old wounds reopened.

Michael had come up behind her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her away from the table and against him.

“My sister has hired scores of people to help her with this stuff,” he said into her ear. “You‘re supposed to be a guest, remember?”