a tired smile.
“Angela. I’m so sorry. I’m in another world.” She kissed Angela’s cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m great, but you look so tired. Is everything okay?”
Diane shrugged. “The play. It’s taking up a lot of time.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is. I hear that Quinn Harris has taken an interest.”
Diane raised her eyebrows and looked at Angela in surprise. “What?”
“In the play.” Angela said quickly. Then she tightened her lips. “But of course, there are all sorts of other things flying around.” Angela shrugged. “You know Merriweather. It’s like a small town. Rumors, you know?”
Diane looked at her closely. “What kind of rumors, Angela?”
“About you and Quinn. About why he’s spending so much time here.” Angela was looking at Diane steadily. Diane swallowed a rising anger.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Angela. Quinn and I have had dinner a couple of times. That’s all.”
Angela threw up her hands. “Okay. I believe you. But you should know what’s going around.”
“Well, it’s not true.”
“Fine. I didn’t mean to upset you, Diane.”
Diane sighed. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard, but then, I wouldn’t, right? Thanks for telling me.” Diane squeezed Angela’s arm. “I’ve got to go. Tell everyone I said hello.”
“Okay. I will. I’ll see you later.”
Angela went back down the hall, and Diane stood, staring after her. Rumors about her and Quinn? Sam would know.
But Sam claimed ignorance. He hadn’t heard a thing, and he was in the thick of it all. Besides, why pay attention to all that anyway? He patted Diane’s shoulder and urged her to sit. There was going to be a champagne reception after the first performance. He had just found out. Since most tickets for the first performance were usually given away to faculty, important alumni, press and guests of the cast and crew, he was able to talk the hospitality committee into springing for a rather lavish spread.
Diane tried to get excited, but she was feeling uneasy about what Angela had said. She left his office determined not to see Quinn again.
Rachel called her a few days later. “Mom,” she said cautiously, “did you ever tell Emily or Meg that you and Michael were, well, together?”
Diane was startled. “No. He left for England before they came back up from the shore. Why?”
Rachel sighed. “There was a thing - on the Internet.”
“What kind of thing?” Diane asked, concerned.
“On one of the sites. Do you know who Moira MacCauley is?”
“No. Should I?”
“I guess not. She’s a singer,” Rachel explained, “kind of New Age-y. Anyway, there was a thing, and this Moira had an interview. She said that all the English women were shit out of luck when it came to Mickey Flynn, because he was madly in love with some older woman back in the States. She knew you lived in his hometown. And that you taught at a local college.”
Diane was stunned. “How did she know any of that?”
“I don’t know, Mom. Maybe somebody else from the band. Who knows? You two didn’t exactly keep things a secret, you know?”
“Oh, God.” Diane felt sick. “Do you think Emily or Meg have seen it?”
“I don’t know. Remember Chloe? From the group? She read it, I don’t know where, and asked if it was about you. You and Michael came to see us a couple of times, remember? She was just curious, since you had just been there with Quinn.”
Diane ran her fingers through her hair. “Can you talk to Emily, please?” she asked. “Just to try to find out if she knows. If she does, I’ve got to explain.”
“Sure. You were going to tell them anyway, right, when he came back?”
“Of course. I just didn’t think anyone would - shit, I’ve been so stupid. Of course, something was bound to come out. I just figured if he was over there, I wouldn’t have to worry just yet.”
“So, is he really madly in love with you?”
Diane took a breath. “Yes, actually.”
“Oh, Mom. That’s amazing. So then, what’s with Quinn?”
“Nothing, Rachel. I told you, we’re friends. It’s possible, you know, for men and women to be just friends.”
Rachel was quiet on the phone, and then sighed. “I bet this whole thing really sucks, him being away so long. It’s been over a month. Do you ever, like, talk to each other on the phone? Like normal people?”
“No,” Diane said softly. “It would be very hard for me, hearing his voice. It’s easier when he’s just a few words on a computer screen. Then missing him is not, I don’t know, as real.”
“I’m sorry,