A Different Kind of Forever(73)

“Excellent. I’ll call you, and let you know everything, times and so forth.” He held up his half-empty glass. “Here’s to being friends then, I suppose.”

“Yes.” She touched his glass with hers. “That would be good. Friends.”



Rachel came to a rehearsal one night the following week, and she and Diane went out to dinner afterwards. As Rachel praised her mother, Diane looked at her skeptically.

“Thank you, my darling daughter, but I know your taste. You have little patience for comedy, unless of course it’s combined with blazing satire or in protest of some massive government plot to subvert the masses. You probably think my play is trite.”

“Mom.” Rachel’s hair was still long, and she wore it in a braid over one shoulder. She had attracted several looks as they entered the restaurant, her legs endless under a short skirt. Now she took a sip of her water. “Mom, not everything I like is avant-garde. I love some of the old stuff. In fact, I’m dying to see your old lover-boy, Harris, and his Coward thing. Next spring, I hear. Have you seen him?”

Diane nodded.” Yes. I’m going with him to a dinner for Sir Derek Shore.”

“You’re going on a date with him?” Rachel set down her glass, hard, spilling water. “Mom, what happened to Michael?”

Diane looked at Rachel, puzzled. “Nothing happened to Michael. He’s having a miserable time. We e-mail just about every day.” Diane narrowed her eyes. “When did you become my watchdog, anyway?”

Rachel shrugged. “I kind of got to like Michael, Mom, you know that. I just remember back when Quinn was in the picture. You were ga-ga over him.”

Diane looked at her daughter. “No, I wasn’t ga-ga. That was you.”

Rachel looked at her severely. “No shit, you were ga-ga, okay? I was waiting for the two you to live happily ever after so he could cast me in his next play.”

“Rachel!” Diane exclaimed. “What a thing to say.”

“So you two are, what, just friends now? Invite him to see me.”

Diane stared. “See you? When?”

“Saturday, Mom? You said you were coming.” The company that Rachel was involved in, the 13th Street Chorus, was finished with Shakespeare and working through George Bernard Shaw. They were doing three abridged versions of his work in one show, and Diane had said she would try to go.

“Oh, come on,” Rachel urged her. “It’s the least you can do. It’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with him to advance my career.”

“God, Rachel.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “He wanted to, didn’t he?”

Diane looked at her daughter, undecided, then nodded. “Yes. How do you know I didn’t?”

Rachel sighed. “He was married then, wasn’t he? And you did raise me. I know you wouldn’t fool around with a married man. Not even Quinn Harris.”

Diane’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe it. I actually made a moral impression here. My mission as a mother has been successful.”

“Don’t get sloppy on me, Mom.” Rachel shrugged. “But yeah, you were a good mother.”

“Tell your sister, Emily, for me, would you please? She hates me so much right now.”

“What is it this time?”

Diane shrugged. “The same thing it’s been for weeks.”

Rachel looked thoughtful. “The car thing? Dad says he’s going to take care of all that, didn’t you know?”

Diane was surprised. “No. I didn’t know. Then why is she so angry at me?”

Rachel shrugged. “Who knows? With her it could be anything.”

“You’re right.” She shook her head. “So, on another subject, how do you like your new half-sister?” Kevin’s wife had delivered a baby girl two weeks before. Rachel launched into a story about her father and his second round of diaper changing. Diane half-listened, her mind wandering. She was worried about Emily. She thought about Quinn. Mostly, she missed Michael.



Indian summer returned on the Saturday night that Quinn and Diane went to see Rachel’s show. Quinn met her in the seedy little theater, where they sat on folding chairs and the air conditioning did not work. But the house was full. The little troupe was developing something of a reputation. They whizzed through three of G.B.Shaw’s finest in a little over ninety minutes. Quinn and Diane laughed along with the rest of the audience. The writing was very good. Rachel was in all three bits, playing a man each time, her bad makeup and ill-fitting wig, along with a shabby costume that did nothing to disguise her lovely figure, all part of the gag.