The Reunion (2 page)

She lifted her chin, sucked in a deep breath, and entered the banquet hall. Conversation and laughter greeted her along with the clink of glasses.

A sign above a table next to the wall on her right read:
Welcome Graduates! Sign in here
. It was manned by a thin woman Meghan immediately recognized as Eileen Raymond. The hair had grayed and her skin sagged a touch, but she still displayed the same smile she’d had in high school.

“Welcome,” Eileen greeted in a burbling voice as Meghan approached. “And whose spouse are you?”

“Nobody’s. I’m Meghan Donahue.”

Meghan had the satisfaction of seeing Eileen’s eyes widen, her jaw drop, and her shoulders straighten in surprise. Her reluctance to attend the reunion vanished.

“Oh, my God, you’ve dropped a ton of weight,” she said with a gasp.

It might not have been the most diplomatic thing to say, but Meghan didn’t take offense. “Over a hundred pounds. I learned the value of exercise and diet my freshman year in college. You look good.”

“Oh, well, I try.” Eileen patted her elegant French twist and fumbled through the name badges in front of her until she found Meghan’s. “Here you go. Please sign the register. We have cash bars located at opposite ends of the room. The buffet will begin at eight and dancing at nine. I’m so glad you could make it, Meghan. I’ll be by to talk later.”

Meghan signed in, clipped the badge to the top of her strapless cocktail dress, and turned away as three other people strolled up to register.

She gazed around the room. Close to half of the twenty-five or so tables had occupants.

A large bulletin board on an easel bearing the title
In Memoriam
caught her attention. It hadn’t occurred to her that some of her classmates might have died, but twenty years after the fact and with a graduating class of two hundred, the idea wasn’t unreasonable. The boards remembered not only classmates, but teachers as well. Still, Meghan was surprised to see ten pictures, along with the dates of death, on display.

Their old principal, Fred Sheridan, was there along with teachers John Noble and Clara Sylvester. Two of the names stunned her—Tami Robinson and Eddie Mancuso. The quarterback and the cheerleader—two of her tormentors. It didn’t surprise her they were dead. Even in high school those two had lived life in the fast lane.

“Holy shit!” a female voice next to her exclaimed. “I didn’t know Tami and Eddie died.”

Meghan turned her head to see Tami and Eddie’s best friends, Dave Coryell and Suzanne Wayland, standing nearby. They ignored her, but she expected that. The two of them hadn’t paid much attention to her in high school either—at least not in a good way.

“This is the first I’ve heard about it, too,” Dave replied.

“I wonder what happened.” Suzanne had a dazed expression on her face.

“I have no idea. I need a drink,” Dave muttered, cupping Suzanne’s elbow in his hand. “How about you?”

“You got it.”

The pair moved away and a woman approached Meghan. “Hi, I’m Glory Ecklund, Tom Ecklund’s wife. I’m on the reunion committee.”

Glory…Glory. The name sounded familiar. She remembered Tom Ecklund. He’d been average looking with average grades and a pleasant personality. Meghan’s gaze drifted to the bulletin board and one of the pictures—Divine Prescott. Of course, Divine had a younger sister named Glory.

“I’m Meghan Donahue. I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Yes, such a tragedy. I still miss her. She killed herself.”

Meghan didn’t know how to respond to such a blunt statement. She remembered her mother telling her Divine had died. Sometime following graduation wasn’t it, after most of her classmates had left for college?

Glory smiled. “Well, it was nice meeting you, and if I can do anything to make the party more fun, feel free to ask.” She nodded and walked toward the registration desk.

She resembled Divine—pale complexion, pale blue eyes, and light blonde hair. The Prescotts had been an odd family living on the outskirts of town. Meghan remembered they’d kept to themselves and been devoted to the Methodist Church.

“Kind of a morbid thing to have at a reunion,” a male voice said.

She swung her head to the right and gazed into a man’s face. It was a long journey. At five feet, seven inches, Meghan had to tilt her head. The man stood at least six-four. She fumbled for a name, wishing she’d taken time to study her old yearbook before coming to Grandview.

“Yes, but informative. I guess we should expect to lose some classmates. Tami and Eddie are a bit of a shock though.”

“I think ‘live fast, die young’ was their motto back then,” the man commented.

Feeling at a disadvantage, she decided to come clean. “Okay, I’ll be honest. I should know you, but don’t.”

The man grinned as if anticipating her words. “I know you. You’re Meghan Donahue.”

“You recognized me? Or did you cheat and ask Eileen?”

“I never forget emerald green eyes.” He paused. “Still can’t place me? Try Zachary Dunbar.”

“Oh, good grief! Four years of your locker being just down from mine.”

“Only Janice Donovan and Todd Duffy separated us. You’ve changed.”

“A tad. At graduation I was well on my way to employment as the fat lady at the circus, had bad posture, and not one ounce of fashion sense. If I’m not mistaken, you were incredibly thin and wore thick glasses.”

“I discovered the benefits of lifting weights and indulged in Lasik surgery. And for the record, you weren’t that overweight. Are you with someone?”

“No, I’m alone.”

“Me, too. Can I buy you a drink?”

“You certainly can. I’ll have a vodka martini.”

His right eyebrow rose as did the corner of his mouth. A dimple danced briefly, and his eyes crinkled with humor when he smiled.

“Shaken, not stirred, I assume.”

“But of course.”

He grinned again. “Why don’t you find us a table while I get the drinks?”

Meghan couldn’t take her eyes off Zach winding his way through the increasing crowd. Damn, he looked good. His light brown hair and blue eyes were just as she remembered. And while she’d lost weight, he appeared to have put on at least an extra fifty pounds—all of it muscle.

She shook her head and glanced around the room. Most of the tables had occupants now, but Meghan finally spotted an empty one and threaded her way past knots of chatting people. She slipped her purse from her shoulder, set it on the snow white tablecloth, and pulled out a chair.

“Allow me.”

She turned to find Dave Coryell smiling at her. Returning the smile, she sat. Dave read her nametag.

“Donahue…Donahue. I don’t seem to remember the name.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would. My locker was five or six down from yours.”

He still looked puzzled. “I remember Patty Courtney and Janice Donovan. There was also some fat girl…” He stared hard, and then groaned. “Good God, don’t tell me…”

“Yes, I was the fat girl. Needless to say, I didn’t run with your crowd.”

He pulled out a chair and sat. “Well, I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted right now.” He took a long swallow of his drink and looked into her eyes, a smile on his face.

Meghan couldn’t believe it. Dave Coryell, football hero, was hitting on her. Twenty years ago, she’d have been flattered into a stammering imbecile. No, twenty years ago it would never have happened. Now, she wanted to laugh.

Dave hadn’t changed much from high school, still possessing a trim body and a head full of black hair untouched by gray. A closer look showed lines around the brown eyes and a slightly dissipated expression.

“So, are you here alone, Meghan?”

“Actually…”

“Nope, she’s with me,” Zach said from behind Dave’s chair.

Dave rose and smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“You didn’t.” Zach set the martini in front of Meghan, placed his drink in front of the seat Dave had just vacated, and extended his hand. “Nice to see you again, Dave.”

Dave shook it while reading Zach’s nametag. “Zach, you’re looking good.”

From the look in his eyes, Meghan suspected he was trying to place Zach in the proper niche. The fake smile told her he certainly didn’t recognize him.

“Same for you. I hear you’re in the commodities business in Chicago.”

“Head of my own brokerage firm. How about you?”

“Head of my own software company in Phoenix. Maybe you’ve heard of it—Dunbar Electronics and Data Systems.”

Dave’s eyes bugged out. “Holy shit! That’s you? You’ve had a good couple of years.”

“Who’s had a good couple of years?” Suzanne Wayland asked walking up and linking her arm through Dave’s.

“This is Zach Dunbar and Meghan Donahue.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember. Did you graduate with us?”

The dismissive tone irritated Meghan, but then that had always been Suzanne’s way. No interest in anybody unless they could benefit her.

“Yes, I was the fat girl. Zach was the computer genius,” she answered in a crisp voice.

Zach stared at her and raised an eyebrow. “What Meghan is too polite to say is I was the skinny nerd.”

The comments apparently didn’t cause Suzanne any concern. She turned to Dave. “I could use another cosmo.”

“Sure. Mind if we join you?” Not waiting for a reply, he placed his drink next to Zach’s. “I’d like to hear more about your company.” He winked.

Meghan hated people who winked like they knew a secret.

“Be my guest.”

Zach’s dry tone suggested he would have liked to avoid his former classmate.

Suzanne plunked her fanny down next to Dave’s seat, clearly annoyed at spending the evening with people she didn’t remember.

Meghan wasn’t any happier, but tried to be civil. “What do you do, Suzanne?”

“Spend my late husband’s money.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were a widow. Must be tough—being so young, I mean,” Meghan stammered. She hated being put at an awkward position.

“It’s not so bad. Charlie Crocker was twenty-five years older than me, drank like a fish, ate like a pig, smoked two packs a day, and never exercised a day in his life. He dropped dead from a heart attack five years ago.”

As at the memorial display while talking to Glory, Meghan didn’t know how to respond. Suzanne didn’t sound particularly sorry her husband was dead.
As long as his estate pumps money into her wallet, I’m sure she’s content. The sorry will come when the money runs out.
Guilt at the unkind thought tweaked her conscience.

“So, where do you spend his money?” Zach inquired.

Suzanne looked at Zach and smiled. “Wherever I can. Charlie’s one blazing talent was making money. Everything he touched turned to gold. At one time, he was Dave’s boss. That’s how I met him. Dave introduced us.”

“Then you live in Chicago, too?” Meghan asked.

“Most of the time. I winter in Palm Beach.”

Dave returned with their drinks and sat next to Suzanne, but before he could say anything Zach turned.

“What do you do, Meghan? Seems to me you always had good grades. Didn’t you write short stories?”

“Poetry, too. Now, I write novels.”

“No kidding?” Suzanne said. “What kind of novels? Are you published?”

“Mysteries and yes. I write under the name Meghan Bonaventure.”

Zach sat back, eyebrows raised, and blew out a breath. “I’m impressed. I read
Cruise to Death
. You had me believing the doctor’s wife was the killer right up until the end.”

“Thank you. That was a fun book to write. Put a bunch of people on a boat in the middle of the ocean with a killer on board and no way off.
The Ghost Killers
was harder. I had so many suspects it was hard keeping them straight.”

“So, you’re rich and famous, now?” Dave’s smile had a predatory gleam.

“My books have done well.”

“That’s an understatement,” Zach told him. “I’d call the
New York Times
bestseller list better than well.”

“Oh, shit!” Suzanne exclaimed, her forehead furrowing with a scowl.

“What?” Dave jerked his attention back to his date.

“Annabelle Peterson.”

“Who?”

“Eric Peterson’s wife. Three tables over. She graduated a year behind us.”

All three of them looked. Meghan saw what had provoked Suzanne’s expletive immediately and wanted to laugh, but managed to keep a straight face.

“What about her?” Dave said with a puzzled expression.

“Her dress, you asshole. It’s the same as mine.”

“You look better in it,” Zach commented, and then turned amused eyes toward Meghan.

She couldn’t contain her mirth and let it bubble out. An angry Suzanne didn’t notice.

“Of course I do. That’s not the point. Mine is a Gregoire original. I paid fifteen hundred bucks for it. Hers is a cheap knockoff. I heard Eric is a schoolteacher in Cincinnati. No way could she afford to pay what I did. Son of a bitch!”

Suzanne downed her cocktail and glared at the other woman.

Meghan had to admit, Suzanne did look better in the ice blue, halter topped, chiffon creation. Annabelle’s legs were a bit too heavy to show off the swirling knee length skirt. But from a distance, the two women could have passed as sisters. Even their hairstyles were similar, although Suzanne’s flowing red locks beat out mouse brown any day of the week.

“Dave, get me another drink.”

Dave shot her a glance, but rose and walked away.

“Hi! Mind if we join you?”

Meghan looked up to see Jill Hardesty standing next to her. Jill hadn’t changed in twenty years. Petite with short-cropped blonde hair, her bubbly personality had made her a class favorite. Meghan couldn’t think of anyone who hadn’t liked her. A good-looking man stood behind her.

“Jill, how nice to see you. Of course, have a seat,” Meghan said.

“Thanks. This is my husband, Ted Kramer.” Ted waved and sat next to his wife. She peered at nametags. “Meghan and Zach? Holy cow! You two look fabulous.”

Zach smiled. “Thanks, Jill. Nothing like extreme makeovers.”