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“How long have you guys been together?” Ryan asked. “Rach told me...you all went to high school together?”
“Sophie was Rach’s year.” David imparted that news so comfortably, as though this wasn’t cause of much stress and strife. “But we didn’t really know each other until I visited home and ran into her at a barbeque. That was, what, five months ago, babe?”
“Six next month.” Sophie took a fortifying sip of wine and stared at me like I was an alien. Or a thief. Shaking her head, she smiled brightly at Ryan. “It lines up perfectly with the five year reunion, so I’m thinking of having a little party. Just for our close friends. But you’re welcome to come.”
Ryan looked at me, raising his brow just the tiniest bit. I could practically hear his thoughts: five-year reunion? Six month anniversary party? Boy, we sure waited for the long haul.
“I’d love to come,” Ryan said, just as I said, “You know, Ryan’s not actually coming to the reunion.”
“Really?” Sophie cocked her head like a killer-coo-coo bird. Or whatever kind of bird is violent. Vultures. Could Sophie be a vulture? “That is just too bad.”
I smiled at him tightly. “But you’re playing Thanksgiving. And the reunion’s two days after.”
“Yeah, but it’s a home game, and they’re giving us Friday evening and Saturday off.” He smiled warmly at my brother and Sophie. “Sounds great. I wouldn’t miss it.”
I was mystified. Ryan, however, flew into even better spirits, and joked and laughed for the rest of the evening. He even put in a word or two about how San Leandro sounded like a great place to visit.
“Why did you say all that?” I asked as we left. “My high school reunion? Ugh, I hardly even want to go.”
“Don’t lie. You can’t wait.”
“Okay.” We crossed Fifth just below the Met and entered the park. Dead brown leaves clung to most of the branches, but what little greenery remained still enlivened me. “It’ll probably be a kick. But why do you want to go?”
“I’ll get to meet everyone you grew up with.”
“Why would you want to do that?” I asked warily.
He responded promptly. “To find out if you were always this much of a pain in the ass.”
“You could have just asked Sophie.”
He laughed. “I didn’t think she was as bad as you did. She didn’t breathe fire or try to eat your brother alive.”
I stopped. “You did not like Sophie.”
“She was hot, too.” Mischievousness tinged his voice.
“Yeah, ’cause she came straight from the hot place down below.”
“I suppose it is summer in Australia...”
I cracked a smile and shook my head. “So, do you really want to come?” I tried to envision him in Ashbury, meeting my parents and friends. “I guess I never quite pictured you in Ashbury. It’s not really your scene.”
“Why not?”
Because Ashbury was like a worn fleece blanket, old and familiar and comforting. Ryan was new and bright—but he was comforting, too. “I don’t know. Maybe it would
work. And then we could go to your place around Christmas.”
“Rach—”
“What?” The note in his voice made me defensive. “If you’re meeting all my friends and family, don’t you think I should get to meet yours?”
“You’ve already met all my friends.”
“Ryan—”
He stopped and sighed, reaching up to tousle his hair. Cleopatra’s Needle towered up behind him, easily visible through the sparse branches. “Look, Rach, they’re just not—cosmopolitan—enough for you. You’d spend your entire time making fun of the farm, and the trackers, and the clothes—hell, you’d make fun of the entire state.”
