Chapter Five

 

 

 

Claire opened her eyes before her alarm sounded. Lying completely still under the unrumpled hotel sheets, she stared at the ceiling. Her first thought was the same as her last had been the previous night. What the hell was wrong with Matty?

When the piercing horn blared, Claire slid out of the bed. One well-manicured finger slid over her phone’s screen, dismissing the obnoxious, discordant alarm. She showered and dressed quickly, blow-drying her hair while she read through the news stream on her laptop. She frowned at a surprisingly disappointing email from her potential buyer, but she moved on to scout other leads to work on after she returned from this trip back in time.

Within an hour, the walls started to close in, leaving Claire feeling claustrophobic. She abandoned the bijou hotel room, laptop in tow, and sought caffeine. When a familiar green and white sign loomed down the block, Claire sighed in relief. She ordered her usual half-caff macchiato and settled at one of the café tables to continue working.

The giggles were what got to her. She could deal with the slurping from the hipster discussing some documentary on the existential exploration of some ridiculous sect of society. Claire could ignore the infant slamming a sippy cup on the table and the mother absently droning on about no sleep and the mountains of laundry that her husband ignored. The key pounding of the author in the corner, recognized by the quantity of paper cups littering the table already, was even tolerable. The high-pitched giggling, though, was the nails against a chalkboard for Claire.

“She looked okay, I guess, but did you see that husband of hers? Now he’s one I wouldn’t mind doing a little home-wrecking for!” The girlish giggle transformed to a cackle.

“Marissa! You are so bad!” the responding voice scolded with no shame in its tone. “What would Ted say?”

Claire looked up without lifting her head, realizing who she was about to see. Marissa Monroe stood near the service counter with two women who could have been carbon copies of her. The clothes they wore were too coordinated to be casual and too designer to be used for the workouts they implied. Claire could feel her lip curling in disgust as Marissa surveyed the room, zeroing in on Claire’s table.

“Well, hi there, Claire-bear,” Marissa simpered, a smug pout to her over-glossed lips. “All alone this morning, huh? No old flames to fan?”

Claire made a conscious effort to look at the other woman coolly. “None worth fanning, Marissa. Seems all the good old boys are taken.” Claire took a sip of her nearly cold espresso then slid her computer into the messenger bag she carried with her everywhere.

A smug grin crossed Marissa’s lips. “Yeah, Ted did good.” The tanning bed refugees behind her tittered with glee at the quick comeback.

Claire smiled serenely. “Oh, not him. I was talking about the hunk worth home-wrecking for, but I suppose Ted could have done worse.” In the shocked silence that followed, Claire stood, disposed of her cup then walked out of the coffee shop. Sliding into her car, Claire took a moment to once again check her work email, taking note of another correspondence about the property in the Lakeview neighborhood. It was clear she would have to spend some time wining and dining the buyer upon her return.

The chattering noise brought Claire’s attention up. The yoga-pant twins scurried after Marissa then they stopped short in front of Claire’s rental. Claire felt the corner of her lips turn up as the three women stared at her flashy, current-model BMW sports car. Slipping her sunglasses on, Claire gave a cocky wave as she reversed out of the spot then drove away.

Not far down the road from the unpleasant encounter, Claire parked in front of another familiar sign, a big box bookstore that she knew would have a seating area allowing her to continue working on generating leads for her real estate properties. After sending a few emails to first-time contacts, Claire was once again interrupted.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Claire?”

Claire looked up sharply, seeing a blonde woman bearing down on her with a petite brunette in tow. She smiled politely in response. “Hi, Kayla. How are you?”

Kayla leaned in when she reached Claire, who responded with an air kiss to her cheek. To Claire’s surprise, the taller woman wrapped her arms around Claire’s shoulders and gave a steady, warm squeeze. Claire stiffened slightly, taken aback by the sincerity of the gesture. Kayla pulled away, her hands surely gripping Claire’s shoulders. She laughed at the shocked expression Claire gave her.

A chuckle came from behind Kayla, as well. “Okay, Amazon, I think you’ve scared her.” Aaron Derrick, Kayla’s older brother, stepped close to the group, sliding his fingers into the grip of the smaller woman with them.

“Hi, Aaron,” Claire replied.

“I heard a rumor you were back for the reunion, but I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen you here.” Kayla exuded all the open honesty she had when the girls were young together. Without an invitation, she pulled a chair over to Claire’s table then sat. “Where the hell have you been, girl?”

Gathering her composure, Claire gestured to Aaron and the woman he was apparently with. “Join us, why don’t you?” She held her hand out to the woman, adopting her professional smile. One never knew who could be a future client. “Hello, I’m Claire Wallace.”

“Marcy Townsend. It’s lovely to meet you. Kayla mentioned you were here for the reunion this week.” As she spoke, Aaron pulled Marcy’s chair out for her, earning a grateful smile from the curvaceous girl.

Claire felt her smile stiffen. “Yes. It’s been…an experience.” Noting the uncomfortable glance that Aaron and Kayla shared, she softened her tone. “The town certainly is different. I was surprised to see so many things had changed.”

Kayla waved her comment off. “Yeah, yeah, things change. We’ve all grown up, gotten married, had kids, gotten fat, blah, blah, blah. What the hell happened to you?”

Shock caused Claire’s jaw to drop. She shifted her gaze to Aaron. “So she hasn’t changed at all, has she?”

Again Aaron chuckled. “Nope, she’s still a loudmouthed brat. Ow!” He bent to rub the ankle Kayla had kicked under the table.

“Shut up, A-ron. Claire’s talking.” Kayla rested her elbow on the table and chin on her hand. “Come on, girly. You disappear after graduation for almost a decade, and now you show up all glamorous and stuff? What the hell?”

Claire let her lips turn into the pasted-on smile she was used to wearing—professional, impersonal and wide. “Okay, okay! I went to the city, invested in a real estate venture, sold my car, went out on my own and now I’m here.” She shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell, to be honest.”

“Bullshit.” Kayla’s curt response surprised Claire, but not as much as the laugh from Marcy did.

“Kayla! Do you talk like that in front of your kids?” Marcy’s laughter was lighthearted, a clear partner to Aaron’s teasing tone with his sister.

“You have kids?” Claire’s jaw hung open with her shock. “You? You said you were never having kids.”

Kayla looked sheepish. “You’re right. I did say that. I just found a guy, I suppose.”

“‘Found a guy’,” Aaron repeated, his tone mocking. “Kayla married Charles Wilson Baxter”—the three friends at Claire’s table completed the phrase together, in haughty unison—“the fourth.” Claire joined in their laughter.

“You didn’t. You married that guy?”

“And had two little monkeys.” Kayla’s cheeks reddened with pride as her grin grew brightly. “I was kind of surprised, too, but once he got away from his parents for college, he was actually kind of a decent guy.”

Marcy scoffed. “You were saying he was more than ‘decent’ at our last book club.” Her eyebrows waggled suggestively, inspiring another round of laughter.

“Well, yeah, there’s that, too.” Kayla’s smile turned into a smirk, hinting at the tenor of her meaning.

Aaron covered his ears. “I don’t need to hear this. Little sisters don’t have sex.”

Claire joined the girls in wicked cackling.

“Fine, change the subject. Claire, are you going to the dedication tonight?” Kayla queried.

Claire recalled the reunion schedule had mentioned the event. “It was in my plans, but I must have missed the details. What are they dedicating?”

“They built a new wing on the high school.” Kayla rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s excited about it, including me, but I’m a little sick of it already.”

“Only because of what they’re calling it,” Marcy taunted, clearly trying to keep from laughing.

Claire looked at Marcy, feigning suspicion. “Do I even need to guess?”

In a nasally, high-pitched voice, Kayla responded to Claire’s question, “The Baxter Hall for Performance.” The table dissolved into giggles and guffaws again. Returning to her usual conversational tone, Kayla continued, “It was desperately needed. Do you remember the disaster stage we used to have? I think Desi actually danced through the stage once, so it’s been a long time coming. I supported the plan, but Chas’ mother has been after me for ages to get more involved. I’m just glad this pet project is done.”

“So she can bug you for the next one?” Aaron replied. “Ow!” Once again he rubbed his attacked ankle then turned the query to Claire again. “Anyway, you’re going, right?”

Claire nodded. “I suppose.”

Kayla gripped Claire’s hand tight. “And you’ll sit with me, right? And keep the dragon lady away from me? Please, oh please?” She batted her eyelashes awkwardly at Claire.

“All right, I will.” Claire extracted her hand with difficulty. “Just no maiming my limbs, Gigantor.”

Amid the laughter from Aaron and Marcy, Kayla glared good-naturedly at Claire. “Fine, big city Barbie, we’ll see you there.”

The three friends departed, leaving the store with cell numbers exchanged and promises to meet up at the event. It was several minutes later that Claire realized she hadn’t smiled and laughed so much in a very long time.