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Chapter Three
So here she was, in Revival.
Otherwise known as hell.
Relentlessly cheerful Christmas music played over the speakers as Darcy took in the good citizens of Revival. She didn’t want to be here. She’d never wanted to step foot in this godforsaken town ever again. She wanted to go home.
To New York where she belonged.
She scanned the VFW hall, taking in the twinkle lights and garish Christmas decorations, like someone threw up red, green, and silver. See, Revival was so backward they still had Christmas parties, instead of the more appropriate “holiday” parties that included various religions and traditions.
She could focus on that instead of the nerves dancing to “Little Drummer Boy” in her stomach. She didn’t want to be nervous. She wanted to be as cool and collected on the inside as she looked on the outside.
Tonight, getting dressed in her mom’s small, dingy bathroom, she’d turned out exactly as she’d wanted. Sexy, sophisticated, and urban in her red dress and sleek hair.
But one step over the threshold of the VFW hall and she experienced the same swell of awkward unease she always did. As if people were staring at her, talking about her.
Which, in truth, they probably were.
Local wild child and troublemaker returns home.
The town was so small the news might make the front page of the local paper.
Someone issued a loud, dramatic gasp, pulling her from her thoughts. “Why Darcy Miller, is that you?”
Darcy blinked, and Charlene Burke came into focus. Charlene was blond, adorably cute, and perky as hell. She’d made the perfect cheerleader back in the day. Time had been kind to her, because she barely aged a day since Darcy last saw her. She plastered a smile to her lips. “Charlene. How lovely to see you.”
Charlene grinned and put her hands on her still small hips. “Well look at you, all fancy. I heard you live in New York.”
Back in high school the petite cheerleader wouldn’t have been caught dead talking to Darcy, but now her face was open and friendly.
Darcy nodded. “Yes. Since I left home.”
Charlene shocked her by hooking her arm through Darcy’s elbow. “You are so lucky. I always wanted to travel, but never really got the chance.” Charlene laughed. “Oh well, c’est la vie.”
Darcy opened her mouth to speak, but Charlene kept on talking. “Well, I’m sure your momma told you all about it but I married Dave Whitmore. Can you even believe it?”
Darcy could believe it, because they’d gone out all through high school. She tried to say congratulations, but Charlene had already started talking again.
“We have three kids. With the little ones world travel isn’t exactly a priority. But someday, after they’re grown, I’ll get around to it. I have a list I keep on my dream board of all the places I plan on going.” Charlene dragged Darcy into the hall, oblivious to Darcy’s reluctance, while asking, “So what have you been up to?”
Darcy started to speak, but Charlene had apparently had her fair share of caffeine today, because she kept on chattering a million miles a minute. “It has been so crazy here as we got ready for today. I’m on the committee. Co-vice president.”
Charlene waved frantically at several women Darcy recognized from high school.
Darcy prayed for a swift and sudden death as Charlene prattled on. “Doesn’t the place look spectacular? Can you even believe this is the same place our parents used to play bingo? You remember Mary Beth Crowley, right? Well, she organized the whole thing. If you see her, make sure you tell her what a good job she did.”
She lowered her voice and glanced anxiously around the room. “She is one woman you don’t want on your bad side.”
Darcy could only stare at Charlene in awe, marveling that someone could talk so fast.
The other woman’s voice returned to normal levels. “There have been so many changes since you left, my Lord, I don’t even know where to start. I know, let’s get a drink. You do drink, don’t you?”
Darcy opened her mouth to answer but Charlene was already talking.
“Of course you do.” Charlene shifted directions and tugged Darcy to the bar, while groups of people stared at her with wide, surprised eyes. “We don’t have any of those fancy New York drinks, but I’m sure Sam can throw something together. You remember Sam Roberts, don’t you?”
And then Charlene was off, and Darcy had no choice but to be pulled to the makeshift bar in the corner where a blond man she remembered as Sam poured drinks. Charlene sidled them up to the bar. “Sam, you remember Darcy, don’t you?”
