Page 37 of The Sandy Page Bookshop

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 a conversation 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. “You really should have preregistered.”

Leah shifted uncomfortably in her slingback shoes. “I’m really sorry.”

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 Leah a 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 three kids 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.”

“How about you? Didn’t you go into publishing or something like that?”

Leah let out a low whistle. “Something like that.”

“Hmm.” Marcy appraised her. “I sense another drink is in order. Shall we?”

For the next half hour, Leah surprised herself by how much fun she had.

Together she and Marcy navigated the homecoming queen and the it-girls, who proved slightly less annoying than Leah remembered, and grabbed another drink at the bar.

The small crowd had rounded out. Many of Leah’s former classmates turned out to be married with little ones, and most lived out of the area.

A handful of the locals had heard about her store.

It was fascinating to see whose careers had blossomed and whose hairlines had waned.

As drinks were poured and nineties music pumped through the speakers, a few took to dancing.

Leah enjoyed the sensation of the gin loosening her limbs, along with her nerves.

Some in attendance were well ahead of her.

Marcy nodded to the bar where the former athletes kept adjusting their comfort waistbands and throwing back beers.

“I may be swinging single tonight, but looking at these guys doesn’t inspire any high school crush.

” Her gaze traveled across the room and stopped.

“Although… there’s one I’d make an exception for. ”

Leah turned to look. In the doorway stood Luke, looking crisp and cool in a blue button-down and khaki linen pants that highlighted his summer tan. Marcy sucked in her breath.

“Wasn’t he friends with your brother?”

“Still is. Actually, I’ve seen a decent amount of him since I moved back.”

Marcy raised her eyebrows. “Decent or indecent?”

“Oh, please.” Leah slapped her arm playfully and looked up in time to see Luke heading their way.

“You made it!” he said, leaning in to peck her cheek. Was he wearing cologne?

“I wasn’t sure you would,” Leah joked. “You remember Marcy Brooks?”

“Of course I do. Good to see you.” Luke pecked her cheek, too, and as he did Marcy made a swooning face at Leah.

“I’m going to grab a beer,” he said, glancing around the party. “May I get you ladies anything?”

Leah agreed to another gin and tonic, though what she needed was some food. Marcy said she’d love a club soda. “Let’s hit the buffet while we wait,” she wisely suggested.

The resort had set out an artful array of coastal appetizers along with summer salads, and platters of grilled fish and steak.

They filled their plates and took seats at an empty table.

“Looks like we may have to rescue our drinks,” Marcy mused.

Over at the bar, Luke was stuck talking to a group of guys he used to play soccer with, holding their drinks.

“I’ll relieve him.” Leah was halfway through the dense crowd around the bar, thinking what a great evening it was turning out to be and how much greater it felt now that Luke had arrived, when a woman cut her off.

She was petite and blond, in a snug little red dress, and to Leah’s consternation she stayed in her way, right up to where Luke was standing.

Before Leah could call his name, the woman in red threw her arms up. “Luke Nickerson?”

Luke’s head snapped in her direction. “Holly?” He did not see Leah right behind her. What he did do was set both drinks down on the bar just in time for Holly to throw her arms around his neck and shriek. Only then did he look up and notice Leah.

Who the hell is Holly? Leah wondered.

“Holly, do you remember Leah Powell?” Luke interjected, when she finally let go.

Holly threw her a cursory look. “No.” She turned back to Luke and launched into conversation.

“Uh, excuse me,” Leah said, pivoting around her as politely as she could. What she really wanted to do was shove her. “Luke has my drinks.”

There was the briefest pause as Luke passed them to Leah, and then he, too, became lost in whatever Holly was saying.

“Who is that?” Leah hissed, returning to her seat. Marcy had witnessed the whole thing.

“Holly Houston. You don’t remember her?”

Staring at Holly’s tiny backside, Leah could not.

“Chirpy cheerleader, maybe three years below us?” Marcy went on. “I only remember her because of her pole-dancing name. And how flirty she was with the upperclassmen. She’s vapid but harmless.”

Watching Luke look at Holly, she suddenly didn’t seem so harmless. Unsurprisingly, he did not find his way back to them.

As the night went on, Leah caught up with people she remembered and connected with a few she didn’t.

Small talk had never come easily to her, but the libations and ocean air coming in off the terrace lent a pleasant gauzy feeling to her interactions and a particular lightness she had not felt in ages.

All the while, she tried not to sneak glances at Luke, who made the rounds.

It was a reunion, after all. The confounding new constant was Holly, who seemed to join him at every turn, despite the fact she was there with a sizable group of her own friends.

It was none of her business, so Leah danced.

She listened to Jenn Flint’s class speech and tried not to laugh at Marcy’s running commentary.

She took breaks outside catching her breath and enjoying the ocean view, and then returned to the action on the dance floor.

When Marcy bid a good night, Leah was surprised at how late the hour was.

“How’d it get to be eleven-thirty?” Leah gasped, walking her out.

“I didn’t think I’d last here for an hour.

Thanks to you, I made it through the night. ”

Marcy hugged her goodbye hard. “I am not leaving town before stopping in your bookshop, I promise. Such fun with you tonight!”

When Leah wandered back inside Luke was on the dance floor.

And right there with him was Holly Houston.

Holly’s tight red dress hugged every bit of her physique as she swayed.

Every now and then she leaned in to say something to Luke, and Leah couldn’t help but notice the way she touched him each time: her hand on his arm, her palm against his chest. The whole picture sucked the joy she’d felt all night right out of her.

She steered past the dance floor for the terrace.

Outside, the bay was steeped in shadow. Lights from distant boats blinked lazily against the night sky.

“Having fun?” Luke swept up alongside her on the railing. His hair was tousled from dancing, his cheeks flushed.

“ You seem to be,” she said.

“Yeah. It’s a good turnout tonight. Nice to see so many familiar faces.”

Leah kept her eyes trained on the water. “Like Holly’s?” She heard how it sounded, and she hated herself for saying it aloud. “I don’t remember her,” she added quickly.

Luke laughed softly, as if reminiscing. “We went to the prom together. She was a year below my class. I haven’t seen Holly Houston in ages.”

Leah smirked.

“What?” he asked. She could feel his eyes on her.

“Nothing. Kind of a stripper name, isn’t it?”

Luke didn’t say anything at first. Then, “Mean doesn’t look good on you, Leah.”

“Relax. I’m just kidding,” she protested. But the truth in Luke’s comment stung. More than the fact she didn’t like his scolding, Leah disliked how petty it sounded. Still, she couldn’t shake it.

“Holly just moved back to town,” Luke went on. “Sounds like she’s going through a tough time.”

“Sounds like she’s really brought you up to speed.” So, Holly was here to stay. And apparently so was mean Leah.

Luke let out a long, conflicted breath. “I wanted to say hi since I haven’t crossed paths with you much tonight, but it sounds like you’d rather be alone.”

She wanted to ask him why they hadn’t crossed paths, but this time kept her mouth shut.

“It looked like you were having fun on the dance floor earlier. Good night, Leah.”

“Good night,” she managed. Feeling childish and small, she waited until the sound of his footsteps disappeared.

It was time to go home. Back inside the crowd had thinned. Leah skipped the lingering good nights and headed for the exit. Outside the sky was dotted with stars, the air brisk. She rubbed her bare shoulders. It had all seemed so perfect a few hours earlier.

As she headed toward her car, she heard laughter close behind.

The clatter of heels on pavement. Leah turned as Holly stepped out of the shadows and into the light of a streetlamp.

Holly stopped and looked over her shoulder.

A second later, Luke followed. Leah stepped back between two cars, out of sight, as the two walked across the lot together.

As Luke opened the door to his truck, and as Holly climbed inside.

The truck rumbled to a start and reversed out.

They drove right past her, down the resort driveway, two silhouettes in the cab of the truck.

Heart in her throat, Leah stood there until the taillights disappeared.