Athena's Daughter (2 page)

“They’re called Wolf.” Despite the band’s
success and frequent airplay, Wolf was one band with which
Elizabeth wasn’t familiar. Athena had made sure of that by never
playing their records when her daughter was around, and switching
the station when one of Wolf’s songs came on the radio. In
hindsight, it was a stupid thing to do, but Athena added it to her
already long list of Things To Make Right Later.

Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. “Wolf? That’s a
silly name.”

“Yeah, it is.” Athena laughed under her
breath. “But their music is good, so that’s why they’re popular.”
Thinking about the band’s arrival at the store the following day,
her mind turned again to her pitiful closet, and she sighed as she
turned back the quilt on Elizabeth’s bed. “In you go.”

Elizabeth climbed in – no jumping this time
Athena was glad to note – and slid under the covers. “Story?”

“We read two stories after your bath,” Athena
reminded her. “That’s why it’s already past your bedtime.”

“Oh, yeah.” Elizabeth turned to the photo on
her bedside table. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she murmured, patting the
cheap plastic frame. She turned to Athena and held up her arms.
“Goodnight, Mommy.”

Athena bent and hugged her tight, giving an
extra squeeze to try to make up for an absent father. “Goodnight,
munchkin. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Elizabeth replied with a big
kiss on Athena’s cheek. “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs
bite.”

“No bugs of any kind, please.” Athena
chuckled. “Sweet dreams.” She clicked off the lamp.

“Sweet dreams to you too, Mommy.”

By the light spilling in from the hallway,
Athena located the tattered stuffed rabbit that was Elizabeth’s
favorite sleeping companion and tucked it under the covers next to
her daughter. The little girl wrapped her arms around it, snuggled
into her pillow and closed her eyes. With a last soft kiss on her
daughter’s head, Athena left the room, pulling the door halfway
shut behind her.

She made a circuit of the small apartment,
turning off lights and making sure the doors were locked before
returning to her bedroom. Sighing, she opened the closet door once
more. The next day was going to be a big one, and she busied
herself trying to find something to wear to meet it.

As she drove her battered powder blue VW
Beetle past the front of the store the next morning she saw a line
already forming along the sidewalk. Oh, great. Stax of Wax didn’t
open for another hour, and she shuddered to think how many people
they’d have waiting to get in then.

Circling the block, she parked in the alley
behind the store and let herself in the back door.

“Wow! Don’t you look nice.”

She looked up to meet the friendly gaze of
Rondall Thompson, the owner of Stax of Wax. Suddenly self-conscious
about her appearance, she ran a nervous hand over her dress. After
giving up on her own closet, she’d ended up calling her sister and
asking to borrow something nice, and the red jersey knit dress with
the v-neck and long, belled sleeves was what Andi chose. It wasn’t
her style at all, but it was better than her usual Levis and a
faded-from-too-many-washes T-shirt.

“Thanks,” she said, and tucked her hair
behind her ears. Instead of her everyday braid or ponytail, she’d
left it loose and pulled back the front on each side in a barrette
on the back of her head. As usual, errant curls escaped confinement
and brushed her forehead and ears. “Is it too much? I kind of feel
like I’m wearing an evening gown to a pool party.”

“No, it’s not too much,” Rondall protested.
“You look fine. We’re gonna have a crowd today, and I think
someone’s coming from the paper, too.”

Shit.
As much as she was hoping for
some free press from the event, she hated having her picture taken.
Making a mental note to duck out of the range of any cameras, she
walked into the front of the store with Rondall trailing behind.
“Everything ready to go?”

“All set.” Rondall nodded, his round face
shining with satisfaction. “I’ve hired two off-duty cops to run
interference in the alley, you already called all the part-timers
in to work, and I set up the table where the band will sit.”

Athena looked where he was pointing and bit
back a sigh. Rondall was a sweet man, but sometimes she would swear
he just didn’t think. “Maybe having the table right by the door
isn’t the best place for it. It’ll cause a logjam and we’ll end up
with a bunch of pushing and shoving. Besides, if we put it here in
the back, people will have to walk past all these tempting records
before they reach the band. Might result in some extra sales.”

Rondall’s sweet, friendly face went blank.
“Didn’t think of that.”

Laughing, Athena patted him on the arm.
“That’s what you hired me to do. Let’s scare up Wally and Buckshot
and have them move this table.”

While two of the teenage boys employed
part-time at the store wrestled the table to the back by the cash
register, Athena double checked their inventory of Wolf’s albums.
After the table was set up, she got the boys to stack the albums
behind it while she moved the folding chairs where the band would
sit. Then she rushed around making sure there were enough pens for
autographs and making sure those pens had ink.

All these activities were designed to keep
her mind off the fact that Wolf would be arriving in mere moments,
but it didn’t work. Despite her feverish running around, she kept
glancing at the clock, her heart pounding a little harder with each
tick of the hands.

“Man, I can’t wait to meet those guys.”
Buckshot’s voice intruded on her agitated thoughts. “They’re my
favorite band.”

She had to smile at his enthusiasm. He,
Wally, Jeremy and Casey were some of the best employees she’d ever
had, and she was glad their hard work would be rewarded by getting
to meet one of the hottest rock bands on the charts. To be honest,
she was a little surprised Rondall managed to get such a big act to
appear at their little store.

Sometimes he seemed overwhelmed by the
younger clientele they attracted since Athena became manager. He’d
been alarmed when she’d made wholesale changes to their stock,
weeding out the albums by Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra and
replacing them with Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones
and the other hot bands of the day. It disgruntled the regular
customers, too – both of them – but once the kids discovered it,
there was no turning back. Rondall’s objections disappeared when he
saw the increased revenue generated by their younger patrons, and
now Stax of Wax was one of the hottest record stores in the Memphis
area. But, still; to get someone as popular as Wolf to do a signing
was a definite coup. She didn’t know how he swung it and she was
afraid to ask.

Activity at the back door caught her
attention and her nerves tied themselves up in knots when she saw
Paul Taylor stroll into the store with Rondall. The charismatic
lead singer of Wolf was followed closely by the bass player and the
band’s drummer. Both Robin Brown and Ian Bennett had an air of
bored indifference, and glanced around the store with a complete
lack of interest.

Athena slipped quietly into the next aisle,
trying to avoid notice. She knew she couldn’t stay hidden all day,
but she hoped to put off the inevitable as long as she could.
Rondall, unaware of her reluctance to show herself, turned and
surveyed the store.

“I want you to meet our store manager. I know
she was just here.”

Athena scrunched down and pretended to
straighten a selection of Three Dog Night albums in the bin nearest
her. A surreptitious glance showed her Rondall hadn’t given up as
he rose on tiptoe to try to see over the displays.

“Where’d she….Oh, there she is!” Smiling, he
beckoned her forward, and she went on leaden feet. “Guys, this
is…”

“Athena!” Paul’s shocked voice interrupted
Rondall’s introductions. “Jesus Christ, it is you!” Ignoring the
looks of amazement on the faces of Rondall and the store’s
employees, he rushed forward and enveloped her in a bone crushing
hug.

“Hey, Paul,” she choked out as unexpected
tears stung her eyes. “It’s so good to see you again.”

He leaned back and smiled down at her,
strands of long blonde hair escaping his ponytail. “My God, Athena.
Where have you been all these years?” He touched her cheek and hair
as if to reassure himself she was real. “You just disappeared after
that summer. Why didn’t you keep in touch?”

Before she could answer, she was swept up
into hugs by Ian and Robin, their surprise and pleasure at seeing
her evident by their huge smiles.

Athena returned their hugs, her emotions
whipsawing. On the one hand, she was so thrilled to see them again,
warmed by the good memories of their time together. On the other
hand…

“I can’t believe you guys even remember me,”
she told them, wiping away a few stray tears that had escaped.

“Of course we remember you,” Paul laughed.
“Who can forget that summer?”

She managed a genuine smile. “Those were good
times. But I swear I still have dents in my back from sleeping on
top of Ian’s drum cases in the back of the van.”

“We provided excellent accommodations, didn’t
we?” Paul squeezed her hand and turned to Robin. “Go tell Derek to
put out his cig and get in here. I can’t wait to see his face when
he sees who we’ve found.”

For one brief, hopeful moment Athena had
prayed the band had a new guitar player. When her panicked gaze
hadn’t found Derek Marshall among the group, she was swamped by a
combination of relief and bone-crushing disappointment. Knowing he
was about to walk through the door added anxiety and a large dose
of fear, and the cocktail of emotions left her feeling sick.

Keeping her focus on Paul’s animated face,
she tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but the roaring in
her ears made it impossible. She might as well have been standing
on the runway at Memphis International Airport for all the good it
did her. But one voice cut through the noise, and she heard it with
startling clarity even though it was nothing louder than a shocked
whisper.

“Athena?”

Oh, God, that voice. Just that one word went
through her like a knife and brought back a torrent of memories she
had spent years trying to keep buried.

“Athena?” the voice repeated. “Is it really
you?”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and
looked up. Derek Marshall stood before her, his beautiful face a
mask of astonishment. This was the moment she had been both
dreading and anticipating, and the reason she’d wanted to wear
something nice. She wanted to show him that she’d recovered from
his callous betrayal and that she wasn’t the same gullible girl
he’d known all those years ago.

The thought made her lift her chin a bit and
gave her the strength to look him in the face. When she did, it hit
her like a blow to the midsection. With trembling lips she stared
into Derek’s eyes; eyes that were the same vivid blue as
Elizabeth’s.

London, England, June 18, 1967

“Happy birthday, dear Paulie; happy birthday
to you!”

The line of teenage girls swayed in rhythm as
they sang, eyes fixed on the stark black door that marked the
entrance to 3 Savile Row. None of them knew if Paul McCartney was
even at the Apple Records office that day, but they still wanted to
mark his birthday in some unforgettable manner. There had been a
half-hearted suggestion to go in and ask if Paul was present, but
the thought of singing to him in person was too daunting. Much
easier to serenade from the sidewalk where they could remain
anonymous.

As the song came to an end, they broke apart
with giggles and started to drift away down the sidewalk. Athena
Hill hung back for a moment with a last, wistful glance at the door
behind the iron fence. She had made the suggestion that they try to
get inside and was still willing to give it a shot. Meeting Paul
McCartney would be worth any amount of embarrassment in her
opinion, but her companions weren’t having it. With a sigh, she
turned to follow them, already regretting the lost opportunity.

Athena had been in London all of two days,
and up until being shot down on getting inside the Apple offices
she had been enjoying every second. Years of accumulated birthday
and Christmas checks were hoarded and saved with the goal of
spending a summer in the UK. Her parents patronized her when she
mentioned these plans, and were shocked and disbelieving when she
cashed out her savings just after high school graduation to buy her
plane ticket. But she prevailed, scoffing at their concern over her
plans to backpack through the United Kingdom and their downright
horror at her intention to stay at youth hostels while there. Only
her promise to return in the fall to attend Memphis State
University where they both taught Greek Mythology gained their
permission for the trip.

But Athena had no intention of going to
college. She caught up to the group of girls she’d met at the
hostel, listening with half an ear to their conversation carried
out in a mixture of English, American and French accents. This was
what she wanted to do – travel, see the world, meet people from
different countries and experience everything life had to offer. No
way that was going to happen on a stuffy college campus in Memphis,
especially not one where her parents were both professors and her
twin siblings were undergrads. No matter what her parents said,
Athena wasn’t going to be sucked into that life, studying for years
to become a teacher like them, dying a little more each day while
stuck in classrooms inhaling the scent of chalk dust and
despair.

Unbeknownst to her parents, Athena was
gathering information and applications to become an airline
stewardess, the most glamorous profession she could imagine. She
was aided in this quest by her older sister Andi who allowed Athena
to use her dorm room address for her correspondence with the
airlines. Though Andi was only a year away from obtaining her own
teaching degree, she had no intention of going into the profession,
declaring it made people crazy. Case in point, their parents who
were so into their subject that they named their three children
Adonis, Andromeda and Athena. No, Andromeda/Andi planned to get
married and start having babies as soon as she could and get no
closer to a classroom than parent-teacher conferences. She was in
complete sympathy with her little sister’s refusal to join the
ranks of academia.