“Thank you.” I felt a bit lighter, and in an odd echo of our last time on the beach together when we were eighteen, I stood on my toes to kiss Nash’s cheek. “Now, will you walk with me back to the hotel?”
Standing up, he offered me his arm in true courtly fashion. “Like I said, saying no to you isn’t something I seem to be able to do.”
I winked at him as we turned to walk across the sand. “Then if I ask you to sing tonight at karaoke?—”
Nash pointed a stern finger at me. “No. It’s not happening. That’s the line I’m not going to cross, not even for you. Don’t bother asking me. I mean it, Peyton. This isnothappening.”
I didn’t say anything else, but a smile curved my lips.
Oh, this was happening.
Chapter Six
Peyton
“Girls, I can’t tell you what this means to me.” Sheri held out her hands, one to me and one to Emmy, as she gazed fondly at Delilah who stood a little apart. “You really will never know. If this weekend is my last hoorah—which it very well might be—I’m so grateful that I got to spend it with you.”
Guilt swam up over me, and not for the first time today. Sheri was sincere that her dying wish had been to have this weekend with us, her friends from high school, and yet I realized that over the past thirty-five years, I really hadn’t given her much thought.
To be honest, I hadn’t thought of many of my friends in that time. In my defense, I’d been pretty busy with pregnancy, having a baby, and then raising that baby on my own. But I also knew that I’d deliberately turned my back on anything that reminded me of the Cove and brought back the pain that was associated with my abrupt departure.
“ . . . do you remember that, Peyton?”
“What?” I blinked at Emmy. “I’m sorry. I guess . . . I spaced out a little.”
“That’s okay. I space out all the time,” Delilah chuckled, touched my hand where it lay on the arm of the chair. We’d gathered here in Sheri’s room because she’d declared that she wanted some privacy for us all to talk, but I suspected that she also felt better in her own space, with her medications, blankets and pillows lying nearby.
Sheri didn’t look good. I knew that was a stupid thing to think, but I supposed that deep down, I had half-expected her to be sick, but not this close to the end. But Sheri was beyond thin, and her perky blonde hair was a wig. Dark shadows were smudged under her eyes. I’d noticed several times already this morning that she’d nodded off now and then during our conversation.
But she was genuinely happy to be here with us, her smile wide as she looked at me, waiting for me to respond.
“We were talking about that time in middle school at Sheri’s birthday party. Remember?” Delilah grinned. “We went out into her garage to look for—God, I can’t remember what we were looking for, maybe a game or something? And we found that old globe that was broken in half, and someone had the bright idea to stick up under our nightshirts?—”
“—and we all took turns walking around, holding our backs, pretending that we were nine months pregnant!” Sheri finished. “I took pictures, and you all got mad at me for bringing them to school after.”
“Oh, we weren’t really mad, were we?” Those memories were so faint that they were almost lost to me. “We probably just didn’t want anyone to see them and make fun of us.”
“Maybe.” Emmy waved one hand.
“I was mad. No doubt about it. I was already so insecure about my weight I thought those pictures made me look like a whale. I was good and pissed off when you brought those pictures to school.” Delilah side-eyed all of us.
Rolling her eyes, Emmy continued, “No matter what pissy Delilah says, it was funny at the time.” She sighed. “I used to laugh so hard with you three. I miss that.”
“Me, too. I’ve missed you all over these years.” Sheri reached for her water bottle. “Peyton, I was so sad that you left the Cove—and that you weren’t with us for graduation. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to keep you from being there.”
Earlier today, I had briefly sketched out for the girls what had happened at the end of senior year. I hadn’t gone into detail as I had with Nash, but I’d confessed to being pregnant and leaving town with Ryan and his parents.
“Well, pretending to be pregnant might have been funny in seventh grade, but getting knocked up for real as a senior was damn scary.” I shifted on the ottoman, folding one leg beneath me. “I mean, I love my daughter. I couldn’t be prouder of who she is, and I can’t imagine my life without her in it. But when I think back on how trapped and alone I felt in May of 1989 . . .” I shuddered. “I guess I was sad to miss graduation, but honestly, it was hardly even a blip on my radar at the time.”
“I’m sure. You weren’t the only one to miss graduation…” Delilah trailed off, then shook her head and closed her eyes. I hadn’t really thought about the memories she might have about those days, about how her boyfriend Matt Rawley disappeared before prom when Crystal Cove and the entire world found out his real identity, the son of a duke.
I started to change the subject, then Delilah leaned forward and tapped my hand. “You know, I remembered something this morning that I hadn’t thought of in years. On graduation day, Nash Sampson stopped me in the hallway to ask where you were, Peyton. I think at the time, I was kind of surprised by his question, because you know, it was so crazy that day and I obviously wasn’t really focused because of… things. I don’t really know what I told him—I think I did say that I’d talked to Ryan’s neighbor, who had told me that the Harveys had packed up and left early that morning.” She swiveled to look at Emmy and Sheri. “Do you remember Nash? He was a real brain, and he was kind of quiet, too—but he and Peyton hung out sometimes.”
“We were friends,” I said quietly. “He was extraordinarily kind to me.”
“I saw Nash yesterday,” Sheri put in. “Last night, I was having second thoughts about being here—about everyone in the class pitying me—and I ran into Nash just outside the lobby. He was very sweet, ended up walking in with me so I didn’t have to brave it alone.”
“It’s so funny,” Emmy mused. “Back in high school, we were all about the popular guys, the football players, the surfers . . . but when I think about someone like Nash, it makes me wonder how many really great people we missed out on.”
