Leah
High school reunions were like a small-town carnival: subpar food; clowns from your past; roller-coaster emotions. And, from the look of the former football players already saddled up at the bar, maybe some throwing up after. She was not exactly dying to be there, but she’d told Luke she would come. If she were honest, she was looking forward to seeing him. If she were brutally honest, a part of her was curious to see what everyone looked like seventeen years out of the high school cafeteria.
The tony venue did not hurt. The Wequassett Resort and Golf Club was probably the most sophisticated thing to happen to the Chatham High class. If nothing else was gained that evening, Leah would be happy to sit on the terrace overlooking Cape Cod Bay with a crisp gin and tonic. For the occasion, she’d donned a buttercream linen sheath dress that both showed off her legs and sent her somersaulting back to Greg for an ugly minute: it was the same dress she’d worn to his sister’s wedding three summers earlier, the very event that initiated aconversation about their own future. At first it made her wonder what Greg was doing. Then it made her determined to try to have some fun that night. She’d done her makeup and blown out her hair. Despite the fact there was no one here she really wanted to see, she needed to look good when she did.
The first familiar face she reunited with was Jennifer Flint, class president and yearbook editor, who was apparently still at it manning the registration table out front. “Leah Powell! You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Neither have you,” Leah said. Jenn sported the same nondescript attire and no-nonsense bob. She riffled through the pages on her clipboard and scanned the table. “I’m afraid I don’t see your name on the list. Did you register?”
“Shoot. I was hoping to do that tonight.”
“Tonight?” The look on Jenn’s face was more akin to an employee behind the DMV desk when you showed up with the wrong paperwork than an old pal you once changed alongside for gym class in the girls’ locker room. “Youreallyshould have preregistered.”
Leah shifted uncomfortably in her slingback shoes. “I’mreallysorry.”
After an irked shuffling of name tags and Sharpies, Leah was granted admittance to the dining room. Now she definitely needed a drink. She glanced around the room for Luke.
Chip Tanner, legendary track star and stoner, was at the bar along with some of the guys from the football team. His face was weathered by sun and likely a continuation of his partying ways, but he still had a thick head of wavy blond hair. He gave Leaha favorable once-over and spun her way on his stool. “James’s sister, right?”
“Right. Leah,” she reminded him.
“Leah! You were the women’s soccer goalie.”
“No.”
“Field hockey?”
She shook her head.
Chip was lost. “So how’s James?”
After a few more awkward reintroductions at the bar, Leah escaped with her G&T to the open-air terrace. The resort, set atop a rocky bluff overlooking the bay, boasted a view that conjured the southern coast of Italy as much as it did New England. At that magical hour the water mirrored the dazzling sunset streaking the sky. Leah leaned over the railing and inhaled. There was still no sign of Luke. She wondered if she’d make it through dinner or cut out early.
From inside came a series of shrieks and laughter. A small knot of women had gathered in the dining room entrance, embracing and emoting as if they were winners on a game show.
“The it-girls,” someone said flatly. Leah turned. She recognized the dark-haired woman a few feet down the railing but couldn’t recall her name. “Marcy Brooks,” the woman said, jutting out her hand.
“Marcy! Oh my gosh. It’s good to see you.” She and Marcy had not been close, but they’d shared classes and been paired up in chemistry lab. Leah had always admired Marcy’s sardonic wit.
“It’s okay you didn’t recognize me,” Marcy said, running a hand matter-of-factly across her midsection. “This is what threekids do to you. And an ex-husband.” She paused. “And his latest bimbo.”
“Wow. You have not wasted any time,” Leah said. “Are you here stag, too?”
“I’m home for my parents’ fiftieth. Figured I’d show my face.” Another whoop erupted inside from the it-girls group who’d joined forces with the guys at the bar. “Had to confirm that the social hierarchy remained intact.”
Leah laughed and shook her head. “I guess some things don’t change.”
“So did you end up becoming a chemist? Mr. Appell was so inspiring.” It was a sarcastic nod to their old lab teacher.
“You saved me from that man,” Leah told her, moving closer. “He was so mean.”
Marcy lifted a shoulder like it was no big deal. “He was a misogynistic ass. We girls have to stick together.”
“I will never forget the time you stood up and told him to shut up. He was chewing me out in front of the whole class for a wrong answer.” It was probably the bravest thing Leah had ever seen someone her age do at the time. “What’re you up to these days?”
“I’m a civil attorney for the Southern District of New York’s DOJ. The damn kids suck up the rest of my time.”
“That’s incredible, Marcy. And totally unsurprising.”
