December. What an odd time for a high school reunion.
Especially a twenty-fourth reunion. Why not just wait until next summer for their twenty-fifth?
Jeannie tucked her carry-on beneath the seat in front of her. The seatbelt latched around her newly trim hips with room to spare—if that wasn’t proof positive that her revamped eating regime was doing its job, she didn’t know what was—and she settled back to watch the plane take off from her window seat.
She didn’t like flying all that much, but driving from her daughter’s home in Arizona to her old hometown outside of Portland, Oregon, was prohibitive, especially in December.
“Too many mountain passes, Mom,” Kristie had said. “You never know what they’ll be like, this time of year.” Unspoken, of course, was that Kristie didn’t want her mom driving all that way alone.
Jeannie and her husband used to visit their daughter at least once a year, after Kristie moved to Arizona to go to college. Jake would take enough vacation time to let them drive the whole way. They’d spend a night in Las Vegas on the way down and a night in Reno on the way back. They’d treat themselves to dinner at a fancy restaurant, maybe catch a floor show in one of the casinos, and enjoy themselves while they took a break from all that driving.
The drive got shorter after Jake’s company transferred him to Sacramento. That was the only thing Jeannie had liked about living in California. They’d made plans to move back to Oregon as soon as he retired.
Last January, he’d had a sudden and massive heart attack and Jeannie had become a widow at forty-two.
Kristie had convinced her to come stay with her in Arizona, at least for a while. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone in a place you don’t like, Mom,” she’d said.
Jeannie had reluctantly agreed. She didn’t want to be a burden to her daughter. Kristie had a life of her own now, but Jeannie didn’t want to be alone, either, while she tried to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.
Her work as a freelance graphic designer could be done anywhere with a stable internet connection. She and Jake had always lived wherever Jake’s job took him. The idea that she could live anywhere she wanted now was hard to wrap her mind around.
After living for most of this year in Arizona, Jeannie had decided the desert southwest was a nice place to visit, but she didn’t want to live there permanently. Kristie loved the desert and the heat. Jeannie missed cool weather and hills that were actually green.
Sacramento was out, as well. Jeannie had never really made friends of her own there. Just acquaintances she’d met through Jake’s work. And the summers in Sacramento were not only almost as hot as Arizona, but humid.
Seattle was a possibility. She loved how green everything was in the Pacific Northwest, and she’d enjoyed the waterfront area, but she’d only been there once, with Jake when he’d had to attend a work-related conference. She didn’t know anyone in Seattle, much less Washington state, and Seattle to Arizona was an even longer trip.
When Jeannie had received the invitation to her twenty-fourth high school reunion, it seemed like a sign. She’d been mulling over moving back to the town where she’d grown up. Her own parents were gone, now, but she had fond memories of the place. The reunion would allow her to see if her good feelings were only because it was where she’d met and fallen in love with Jake.
The one thing that made her hesitate was leaving Kristie so close to the holidays. Jeannie had been looking forward to creating new holiday traditions with her daughter, to make up for all the things she wouldn’t be doing this year with Jake. Kristie had been training for months for a marathon she’d be running after the first of the year. Jeannie had adopted Kristie’s healthier eating habits, which meant any new traditions wouldn’t include baking the cookies they’d made when Kristie was little.
If she was being honest with herself, leaving Kristie behind was one of the things which made Jeannie hesitate about going to the reunion.
She hadn’t recognized any of the names on the reunion committee, which reminded her that she didn’t really know most of the people she’d gone to school with all that well. She’d only had one good friend in high school. Marta Gilroy had been another slightly overweight art nerd, like Jeannie. To say they hadn’t fit in with the popular girls was an understatement.
Marta had been goth before the word became a fashion statement. She’d dressed in various shades of black and wore her black hair long and straight. While Jeannie had been quiet and shy, Marta had been loud and proud, with an incredibly wicked sense of humor.
Jeannie had lost track of Marta after they’d graduated. She’d been surprised to receive a heartfelt condolence card from Marta when Jake passed away. Marta had included her email address, along with a photograph of herself—still goth, still slightly overweight—next to a sign for a gallery showing of her art. The return address on the envelope was in New York City.
Since then, the two had corresponded through email. Marta had told Jeannie about the reunion. She’d said she couldn’t afford a cross-country airline ticket, especially not with holiday prices for air travel. She told Jeannie she should go to make sure the artsy-fartsy contingent was well-represented.
Jeannie didn’t want to go by herself to a reunion where she’d feel like a total outsider, but Kristie had encouraged her to go. “You can’t hide out with me forever, Mom.”
Was that what Jeannie had been doing? She went a few places by herself, but didn’t interact with anyone. Some days, all she did was sit in Kristie’s living room and read. She’d begun to think she might want someone special in her life again, but that possibility was so far off in the future she couldn’t imagine it.
Jeannie needed to find a place of her own, and unless she wanted to become the secretive widow all her new neighbors gossiped about, she’d have to force herself to go out among people again. So she’d emailed the reunion coordinator and said she’d be there.
Only now she was having second thoughts.
The lights inside the plane flickered and a thump vibrated the floor beneath her feet as the plane taxied away from the terminal. The low-level thrum of nerves which had been building in her since she’d lined up to board the plane settled into a tight little ball in her tummy, which made her glad she’d only had a light breakfast.
“Nervous flyer, dear?” the woman in the aisle seat asked. She was a generation older than Jeannie, with graying hair done in an attractive, tightly curled style which accented her delicate features.
Jeannie gave the woman a polite smile while she considered the question.
Was her nervous stomach telling her she was making a mistake? Should she ditch the reunion and take the next flight back to Arizona? But would she be able to face Kristie, much less look at herself in the mirror, knowing that just the idea of going to a party by herself for the first time in more than two decades had made her run away with her tail between her legs?
She didn’t want to tell any of that to a stranger.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on an airplane,” she said instead. It wasn’t a fib. The last time she’d been on a plane had been the trip to Seattle with Jake.
Jeannie looked out the window, and the woman took the hint. They could have spent the entire flight chatting, but Jeannie didn’t feel up to polite conversation with a stranger. She’d be doing enough of that this weekend. If she decided to go to the reunion.
She still had time to decide whether that part of the trip would be a mistake.
•
Raymond had made a terrible mistake. He’d agreed to meet his cousin for coffee at a trendy new café but, of course, Lucas had an ulterior motive.
“Will you be my plus-one to the reunion? Please?” Lucas looked at Raymond with those puppy-dog brown eyes of his that he’d used to such great effect back when they’d still been kids.
Those eyes had got Lucas into—and out of—more trouble than a man had any right to get into. Especially a forty-three-year-old gay man who had his own successful clothing line and who, with his three business partners, owned three separate malls in the Portland area.
Raymond had brokered the deals on two of them.
“Can’t you get a date?” Raymond asked.
Lucas sipped his skinny latte. “I’m not taking a date to my high school reunion. Are you crazy? I’d never hear the end of it. That’s nearly as bad as taking a date to a wedding.”
Lucas’s mother—Raymond’s aunt—was forever after the both of them to settle down. If Lucas took a date to the reunion, his mother would definitely get the wrong idea. He didn’t have the temperament to stay with just one Mr. Right and raise a bunch of kids.
Raymond, on the other hand, thought he’d found the one Ms. Right he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Unfortunately, after four years and one child, she’d found a more desirable Mr. Right. The divorce had left Raymond “emotionally scarred, sexually frustrated, and unwilling to get back in the saddle”—Lucas’s description.
It had also left Raymond with a daughter he adored and didn’t get to see nearly as often as he would have liked, especially after his ex moved to Tacoma. He had no desire to start a new relationship, only to risk losing it again. Emotionally scarred was one way of putting it. Gun shy was another.
Raymond sipped his holiday cold brew. “Why are you even going?” he asked Lucas. “You were miserable in high school.”
Raymond was a couple of years older than Lucas and he’d gone to a different high school, where he’d achieved modest popularity, thanks to football. He’d still heard all about Lucas’s teenage troubles, though. “There was only one person you even liked,” Raymond said. An art student, if he recalled right, who’d been an outcast in her own way.
Lucas put his skinny latte on the little table where they sat, and looked at Raymond over the top of his purple-framed reading glasses. “Are you seriously asking me why I’m going?” He held his hands out wide, the better to show off a his flamboyant sportscoat, from his Coat of Many Colors line. “If you were as rich and successful and utterly fabulous as I am, wouldn’t you want to rub it in all their snooty faces?”
Raymond had to admit that Lucas made a good point. Raymond had never felt like an outcast in high school, but he hadn’t been as popular as the quarterback, either. “You know you’re perpetuating a stereotype,” he said.
Lucas chuckled. “All the better to mess with their heads. At least I’m not asking you to go in drag.”
“Good God, no.” Raymond stifled a sigh. He could either be a jerk and say no, or he could be a good friend. When he’d still been in shock over the divorce, Lucas had been there for him. What was one evening out of his life? It wasn’t like he had any better offers.
“I’m not dancing with you,” he said.
“Wouldn’t expect you to,” Lucas said.
“And we’re not holding hands.”
“That’s fine.”
“And no kissing!”
Lucas’s mouth fell open in mock surprise. “Oh, no! Be still my heart.” He tilted his head to one side, his expression suddenly serious. “So you’ll go?” he said. “I don’t want them to think I’m a sad, lonely gay man.”
Puppy-dog eyes. Raymond always fell for it. “Okay, I’ll go.”
•
As Raymond stood next to Lucas at the door to the high school gym, uncomfortable in his brand-new suit, he realized he should have set one more condition before agreeing to be Lucas’s plus-one.
He should have told Lucas he’d only go if he could wear his own clothes.
•
Jeannie stood by herself at the bar which had been set up at the far end of the gym, waiting for the bartender—Jimmy Jones, Chess Club President, his name tag read—to mix her rum and Diet Coke, light on the rum.
The reunion committee had done a decent job of decorating the gym, even though most of the decorations consisted of red, green, and white helium-filled balloons and crepe paper streamers. Round tables with butcher paper tablecloths and folding metal chairs were scattered across the gym floor. The lights had been turned down to a semi-intimate setting and a few couples were dancing in an empty space in the middle of the gym to a Boyz II Men rendition of a traditional Christmas carol.
Jimmy Jones, the barman, was dressed in a Santa Claus suit minus the beard. She didn’t remember him. Of course, he probably hadn’t been able to fill out a Santa suit with his own belly in high school.
“Here you go.” He handed her a plastic cup holding her drink. He gave her an exaggerated wink and the unsexiest leer she’d ever seen, as their fingers briefly touched.
Jeannie’s return smile was polite, but frosty.
Most of the single—and singularly unappealing—men at the reunion had hit on her at one time or another since she’d walked beneath the balloon-covered trellis into the gym. Thankfully no one had added mistletoe to the decorations, or she would have been in trouble.
She had no idea why men who surely didn’t remember her any more than she remembered them were so attracted to her. She wasn’t the prettiest woman at the reunion. That prize went to Cissy Henderson, former head cheerleader. Cissy was dressed in a gorgeous red party dress with a little Santa hat pinned to her short blonde hair. She had the same thin, lithe figure she’d had in high school.
Cissy had enveloped Jeannie in an enthusiastic hug, moments after Jeannie checked in at the front desk. Cissy had looked at Jeannie’s name tag, first. She clearly had no idea who Jeannie was, but she’d hugged Jeannie hard just the same. Jeannie had been so surprised, she hadn’t hugged back.
It had been that way all night. Women who hadn’t given her the time of day in high school would peer at her name tag, then give her a huge hug and thank her for coming.
Between the hugs and the attention she was getting from the single men, Jeannie felt more than a little overwhelmed.
She missed Jake. She’d been doing well so far, driving her rental car around town, familiarizing herself with the some of her favorite restaurants and shops, like the art store where she and Marta had spent way too much of their free time, and marveling at the changes from nearly two decades of expansion to the downtown area. She’d even driven through older residential neighborhoods to see if there were any houses for sale that struck her fancy. She’d done all of it without feeling alone.
But now, surrounded by people she’d gone to school with, she felt like an outsider.
She would finish her drink and slip out. She doubted anyone would miss her.
“Didn’t I tell you never to order a mixed drink in a bar?” came a familiar voice, from behind. “Bottled drinks you watch the bartender open, girlfriend.”
Jeannie whirled, nearly spilling her drink. “Marta!”
Marta hugged her. Jeannie welcomed this hug with open arms.
“Surprised you, didn’t I?” Marta said, when Jeannie finally let go.
“You lied to me!”
Marta gave her a rueful smile. “Not at the time. I really didn’t think I’d make it, but then I sold a few pieces and voila! Here I am.” She glanced around the room. “Is this party lame or what?”
From an adult point of view it was lame, but it was also wonderful—Marta was here! Marta, in a swirling black skirt, black, sequined blouse, and blue-black metallic extensions in her long, straight hair.
“Let’s find a spot to sit and catch up,” Jeannie said.
Marta took two steps toward the bleachers, then her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Would you look at that?”
Jeannie followed her gaze to the front of the gym. A handsome gay couple, dressed in coordinating holiday sports jackets—one burgundy red satin, the other forest green—stood just inside the balloon-covered trellis. The shorter of the two men looked vaguely familiar.
“Isn’t that your friend….” Jeannie began. She couldn’t remember his name, but he’d been the most flamboyantly gay student in their conservative school. Jeannie had been ignored, but he’d been tormented. Which meant that Marta, being the contrarian she was, had befriended him.
“Lucas!” Marta shouted.
Her bellow carried over the music—currently Celine Dion’s version of The Christmas Song—and half the people looked in their direction. Marta didn’t seem to care.
Lucas looked in their direction. A huge grin split his face. “Marta-farta!” he shouted back, waving frantically.
Jeannie couldn’t help but notice that the man he was with looked as though he wanted to sink into the floor. If he was dating Lucas, he should be used to things like this.
Marta made a beeline toward Lucas. Jeannie trailed in her wake.
Lucas met them in the middle of the gym. He enveloped Marta in a bear hug that made all the hugs Jeannie had received look tame.
She tried not to stare at the man who’d come with Lucas. Up close, he was incredibly handsome. Tall, with dark hair cut short and a strong jaw and cheekbones to die for. In the dim light of the gym, Jeannie couldn’t tell whether his eyes were dark blue or brown, but they looked kind.
Marta and Lucas were still hugging each other.
Jeannie held out her hand to Lucas’s date and introduced herself. “Do you know Marta too?”
She almost missed his reply.
What she felt when his hand touched hers wasn’t a zing. She’d only experienced that once in her life, and that had been on her first date with Jake. But she felt a definite pull of attraction.
What, was she nuts? He was Lucas’s date, which was clear from their outfits. A gay man who dressed in a green satin sportscoat for a high school reunion wasn’t someone she should be attracted to.
She did catch his name. Raymond Ellis.
“I take it they’re friends,” he said with a grin, glancing at Marta and Lucas.
Jeannie tried to regain her composure, but her cheeks felt warm and she couldn’t tone down her smile. She wondered if she’d held his hand too long. It had felt nice in hers.
“What gave it away?” she asked. “The nickname?”
“That was a clue,” he said. “Lucas usually doesn’t go around calling people ‘farta.’ At least, not that I know of.”
“It is one of his tamer nicknames for Marta.”
Jeannie went on to not only list all the wildly inappropriate names Lucas and Marta had once called each other, but also describe the reasons behind the most imaginative names. She trailed off when she realized she was babbling. Her unexpected attraction to a gay stranger had robbed her of what little people skills she had.
At least he looked amused. But was he amused at her, or at learning what his date had been like in high school?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really shouldn’t be allowed out in public. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a social gathering. I should probably ask how long you’ve known Lucas.”
“All his life,” Lucas said, interrupting whatever Raymond had been about to say. He put an arm around Jeannie’s waist and kissed her on the cheek, another thing no one had ever done to her in high school. “What say you and Marta grab a table, and Raymond and I get drinks?”
Jeannie began say she already had one—her barely touched rum and Diet Coke—but Lucas waved her off.
“That’s just nasty,” he said. “Let’s get you a proper drink.”
Marta gave Jeannie an odd look, then she glanced at Raymond. “I’ll go with you to get the drinks,” she said to Lucas. “I know what Jeannie likes and someone needs to protect you from bartender Santa. With that outfit, he might think you’re one of his elves escaped from the toy factory.”
“Santa’s the one who’d need protecting.” Lucas arched one brow in an exaggerated leer.
Marta held up a finger to Lucas in a wait-a-second gesture. Then she snagged Jeannie by the elbow and leaned in close to whisper in Jeannie’s ear. “That’s Lucas’s cousin. A couple years older than us. Divorced. Father of one.” She gave Jeanne’s elbow a little squeeze. “And definitely not gay.”
•
Of course, Raymond would meet the most beautiful woman he’d seen in ages while he was wearing a shiny green sportscoat that made him look like one of Santa’s elves—a beautiful woman who’d bantered with him moments ago, but now looked as though she wanted to disappear with embarrassment. Whatever Lucas’s friend Marta had whispered in her ear had thrown her for a loop.
Raymond wanted to get back to the place where they’d just been, that getting-to-know-each-other phase of a relationship which had the potential to go someplace special.
The fact that he’d even thought of the word “relationship” was miraculous, and almost as amazing as how perfectly her hand fit in his, and the way he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Apparently, his divorce hadn’t ruined him for life, after all.
“Should we grab a table?” he asked her.
Jeannie glanced toward the bar.
Raymond followed her gaze.
A small crowd had gathered around Marta and Lucas, but no one seemed to be giving his cousin grief. Lucas had made his grand entrance, discovered at least one old high school friend, and now he’d hit his stride as his fabulously successful gay self.
That left Raymond free to find out if his unexpected attraction to Jeannie was one-sided or something she might want to pursue, too.
“Doesn’t look like we’re getting drinks anytime soon.” Jeannie seemed to make an effort to smile at him, but her smile was thin, and didn’t strike him as having any humor in it. “You could always have a sip of mine if you’d like, but I have to warn you it’s diet,” she added.
The words were friendly, but her tone was off.
What the hell had happened?
Then she surprised him by putting a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That didn’t quite come out right. I’m terrible at this—flir…getting-to-know-you small talk.”
Had she almost said flirting?
“I’m out of practice,” she continued. “Then Marta….” She shrugged, her cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
He grinned. He couldn’t help it. He felt as though he was actually back in high school, and the girl he’d been crushing on had agreed to go out on a date with him.
“I hang around with someone like Lucas,” he said, “and you have to ask if I’m okay with conversational gaffes?”
Good lord, he’d just said “gaffes.” She wasn’t the only one out of practice at flirting.
Thankfully she just grinned back, instead of pointing out how pretentious he sounded. “I guess that goes without saying. So Lucas is your cousin?”
Ah ha. That was what Marta had whispered in her ear. Which meant…. He gave himself a mental head-slap. She’d thought he was Lucas’s date! “I just agreed to keep him company. I should have told him I’d only come if I could wear my own clothes.”
“And that’s not…?” She took her hand from his arm to gesture at his sportscoat. The loss of her touch made him miss that simple connection. How long had it been since he’d felt this way with a woman? “No, I don’t keep a shiny green jacket in my closet,” he said. “It’s from Lucas’s clothing line. He’s a designer. A successful one, at least now. In high school, he was the school outcast.”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “And you agreed to come for moral support? Not a lot of guys would do that.”
Someone at a nearby table took a photo with their cell. The flash illuminated her face long enough to give him a good look at her eyes. They were the deepest blue. Intelligent, kind, and with a touch of bewilderment at the situation she’d found herself in.
“Did you come with Marta tonight?” He was pretty sure she was alone. No wedding ring on her finger (he’d looked), and no one striding over to hook a possessive arm around her waist. There was the possibility she was Marta’s date, though.
“I didn’t even know she was coming.” Jeannie shrugged. “I was about to leave before she surprised me.”
“Not having a good time?”
She gave him a long look and the kind of smile that let him know his interest in her was definitely reciprocated. “I am now.”
•
Jeannie was having the time of her life. She’d been flirting—yes, flirting!—with Raymond for what seemed like hours. Marta and Lucas had brought back drinks, and the four of them laughed and chatted and teased each other while the reunion went on around them.
She felt like a teenager, only not the teenager she’d been in high school. She hadn’t met Jake until after she’d graduated, when he’d been a mature man of twenty-five to her quiet and shy eighteen. Before Jake, her love life had consisted of a few sporadic dates, and one disastrous high school prom.
Her date had been a gangly boy with an inflated opinion of himself. When it became clear to him that she wasn’t going to “put out,” as he’d called it, he’d ditched her to go drinking with his buddies. She’d been mortified.
Marta hadn’t gone to the prom. It didn’t fit with her ultra-disinterested-in-anything-remotely-mundane persona. Jeannie’d had no one to talk to once her date abandoned her. She’d spent the night sitting by herself on the bleachers, waiting for her date to come back. Eventually she’d called her parents to come and pick her up.
If only she had met someone like Raymond in high school! No, that wasn’t right. If she had met Raymond then, she wouldn’t have married Jake, and she’d never regret being married to Jake. They’d had a wonderful life together, and one amazing daughter.
Was this what high school life had been like for the popular girls? An evening spent flirting with the most handsome man in the room? Someone who made her heart skip a beat when he looked at her as though she was the present he’d always wanted to find beneath his Christmas tree?
Then the evening got even better.
The background music switched to a soulful version of “I’ll be Home for Christmas”.
Raymond leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “I love this song.”
“You gotta do it,” Lucas said.
Raymond glanced at his cousin.
Lucas gestured with his head toward Jeannie and grinned.
“I gotta do it,” Raymond agreed. He stood and held out a hand to Jeannie. “Care to dance?”
Jeannie shot a glance at Marta.
“Don’t look at me, girlfriend,” Marta said. “I don’t dance.”
“Oh, come on,” Lucas said. “Everyone dances to a song like this. Don’t the words just pull at your heart?” He put a hand over his own heart as if to emphasize the emotion. “Life’s too short not to have a little fun.”
Lucas stood and pulled Marta to her feet.
“Okay, fine.” She sounded more like an exasperated mom than a woman about to go dancing. “Between your suit and my dress, we are going to look fabulous on the dance floor. But no groping, mister!”
“Trust me, Ms. Farta,” Lucas said. “You don’t have the parts I’d want to grope.”
Off they went, leaving Raymond still standing with his hand out, waiting for Jeannie.
Well, what was she waiting for? She smiled and took his hand.
He was an amazing dancer. Nothing fancy, no moves that made her worry about not stepping on his feet, or tripping over her own. He put one hand on her waist and enfolded her other hand in his, tucking them against his shoulder.
They slow-danced close enough to almost touch. Having him so close was exhilarating and maddening at the same time. Jeannie wanted to be closer, to rest her head on his shoulder, close her own eyes and lose herself in the moment, but she wasn’t sure she should make the first move.
Instead, she tilted her head so she could look at his face. Jake had been just a little bit taller than she was. Raymond was taller than that, yet leaning back to look at his face didn’t feel awkward. It felt right.
“I’ve never danced to this song before,” she said. “What did you mean when you said you ‘just gotta’?”
His expression softened. “It’s the lyrics. About making a promise to be home for Christmas, all the while knowing you can’t.” His eyes got a far-away look. “My family always traveled to my grandparents’ house for Christmas. From right after school got out until right before New Year’s Eve, we were always gone.”
She couldn’t tell from his expression whether that was a cherished memory or something he’d merely put up with. She was just fascinated with this glimpse into his childhood.
“It was fun when I was little,” he said, “but once I hit high school and had a girlfriend? Not so much.”
“You wanted to be with her at Christmas.”
“To be honest, I was hoping for a holiday kiss under the mistletoe, which I see no one thought to include in these decorations.” He arched a brow and gave her a wicked grin.
Her cheeks heated. Again. She hadn’t blushed this much in one night since… well, since forever.
“Anyway,” he said, “when I couldn’t talk my parents into letting me stay home by myself, I made a tape. Singing this song for my girlfriend.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did. I wrapped it and put a big bow on it and gave it to her on the last day of school.”
“Were you in chorus? Or choir?” She couldn’t remember what the class had been called when she’d been in high school, but there had been some phenomenal singers at her school.
“I was a football player,” he said. “And I can’t carry a tune to save my life.”
“Oh, no.” Jeannie could imagine what his rendition of the song must have sounded like.
“Oh, yes.”
His grin softened. The fact that he was looking back at his teenage self with fond amusement said a lot about his character. This was a man who was comfortable enough in his own skin to be amused rather than embarrassed at his teenaged romantic gesture.
“I think she burned the tape after she listened to it, but it must have done the trick. After we got back home after Christmas, we…uh….” Now he did look embarrassed. “Are you sure you want to hear this part?”
He could tell her all about his silly teenage antics, but he was embarrassed to tell her he got lucky?
“I think I can fill in the blanks.” She grinned at him. “So now you feel compelled to dance every time you hear the song?”
“Dancing to this song lead to the blank spot you just filled in.” He moved her hand a little closer to his heart. “And no matter what Lucas thinks, I don’t feel compelled to dance to it every time. Only when I have the right partner.”
Oh.
Oh!
The nervous flutter she’d been feeling since she first touched his hand expanded to fill a spot in her heart she hadn’t realized she’d been missing quite so badly. Jake had been her first true love, but he was gone. He wouldn’t want her to spend the rest of her life alone and lonely. He’d want her to find a good man. Someone like Raymond? Quite possibly.
She closed the distance between them so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He felt so solid, warm, and wonderful, she wondered why she hadn’t done this sooner.
They danced with her head on his shoulder, both of them barely moving with the music, as “I’ll be Home for Christmas” faded and another slow holiday song took its place.
She felt like she’d just found the best Christmas present ever under her tree. She didn’t want this evening to end, which was amazing, considering she’d almost ditched the reunion not five minutes before Raymond had walked through the balloon-covered archway into the gym.
“I’m so glad I decided to come tonight,” she said with a happy sigh. “I almost didn’t, this close to Christmas.”
“Being here with you tonight, it’s the best Christmas present I’ve had in a long time, ” he said. “There’s a lot of that going around. Lucas said the committee is ecstatic so many people turned out for Cissy.”
What an odd thing to say. Reunions were about everyone in the class, not just the head cheerleader. Was that why Cissy had hugged Jeannie like they were long-lost friends, because she thought the party was just for her?
“I don’t understand,” Jeannie said. “What does Cissy have to do with anything?”
Raymond tilted his head to look at her. His comfortable smile faded. A faint line of concern built between his brows. “You don’t know?” he asked.
“Know what?”
His arm tightened around her shoulder, as if to give her support. “She’s had it pretty rough the last year. From what Lucas told me, her health isn’t good. Going to her twenty-fifth high school reunion gave her something to focus on, but there’s a chance she might not be around next summer to enjoy it.”
Jeannie stopped dancing. Her feet just wouldn’t move.
That explained so much. Why this reunion was their twenty-fourth and why it was being held so close to Christmas. Why Cissy had held on so tight when she’d hugged Jeannie, a virtual stranger. And why all the once-popular girls had been so happy Jeannie was here. It wasn’t about their reaction to seeing Jeannie again, it was about giving their friend the one thing she really wanted.
“It’s their Christmas gift to her,” she murmured.
•
Raymond hated breaking such bad news to Jeannie.
She had one of the kindest hearts he’d ever encountered. Maybe because he dealt in the cutthroat world of real estate, he’d gotten used to the idea that all the women he would ever meet would be hard and jaded, but Jeannie wasn’t that way.
She’d told him about her marriage and how it had ended out of the blue when her husband passed away. He hadn’t suffered, she’d said, but Raymond could tell she was still getting over the loss. That was why he’d put space between them when he took her onto the dance floor, when all he really wanted to do was hold her tight and never let go.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about a woman before, not even his ex-wife. Sure, he’d loved her—how could he not? She’d given him his wonderful daughter. But this was different. He’d never believed in love at first sight. Attraction, yes. Lust? Absolutely. He still remembered how he’d felt as a teenager, learning to cope with an overload of hormones.
His feelings for Jeannie were totally different. She was warm and wonderful, soft and feminine and absolutely, totally beautiful. He could imagine making a life with this woman. If this wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.
And now he’d ruined everything.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” she asked.
She left without waiting for him to reply. He had an idea she was going to see Cissy, but he didn’t know Cissy. Even if Jeannie had invited him along, it would have made the moment awkward, so he went back to the table.
Marta was sitting by herself, sipping her drink. She’d switched to plain soda two drinks ago, claiming she had an early flight and the last thing she needed was a hangover.
“She ditch you on the dance floor?” Marta gave him a weary smile. She’d complained earlier about jet lag, and he guessed the time difference had finally caught up to her.
He shrugged and sat down. He must have looked dejected because she reached over and patted his arm. “Don’t worry. She’ll be back.”
“I made a mistake and told her about Cissy. Finding out an old high school chum’s only got a few months to live…if that’s not a mood killer, I’m not sure what is.” He sounded whiny, even to himself. If Lucas was here, he’d give Raymond all sorts of shit.
“They weren’t chums,” Marta said. “In fact, I was her only friend. We lost touch over the years, but you know what? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her as happy as she’s been tonight. Have a little faith.”
He gave her his own weary smile. He hadn’t felt tired at all on the dance floor. He’d been energized. Alive in a way he hadn’t in a really long time.
Marta pulled her hand back. “I probably shouldn’t mention this, but you’re in real estate, right? Lucas said you brokered deals for him, when he was going on and on about his fashion lines.”
Raymond nodded.
“Jeannie’s thinking about relocating, and she’s been looking at houses. By herself.”
His heart skipped a beat. Jeannie might be moving here?
“She’ll be in town for the rest of the week.” Marta leaned back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin. “I bet she’d like some company.”
“Are you playing matchmaker?”
“It’s Christmas,” she said. “Everyone deserves a bit of good cheer.”
•
Jeannie found Raymond sitting at their table with Marta, who just barely stifled a yawn.
“Damn, I hate to admit I’m getting old,” Marta said, “but I can’t party like I used to.”
“You never partied,” Jeannie said.
“You didn’t know me in college.” Marta stood and stretched her back, then held her arms wide. “Give me a hug and tell me it won’t be another twenty-four years before we see each other again.”
Jeannie gave her high school buddy an enthusiastic hug. “I promise,” she whispered in Marta’s ear. “You sure you have to take that flight tomorrow?”
“One day turnaround. All I could manage.” Marta gave her a squeeze then let her go. “I came all this way to see you. So maybe it’s your turn to come and see me.” She shot a sideways glance at Raymond, then gave Jeannie a grin. “If you’re not too busy.”
Raymond snorted, which he covered with a hand over his mouth.
What had they been talking about? Jeannie hadn’t been gone all that long. She’d just wanted to give Cissy another hug—a proper one this time—and to wish her well. Cissy had been surprised, but seemed genuinely happy, if tired. Jeannie hadn’t pried into Cissy’s health, but it was clear that as much as the reunion had energized her earlier, it was draining her now. She’d probably leave soon.
Jeannie should leave, too. She had a full day of house-hunting planned for tomorrow. Before she left, though, she wanted one more dance with Raymond.
She held out her hand to him. “Care to dance?”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. “Jingle Bell Rock” wasn’t a song to slow dance to, so she held his hands instead of leaning her head on his shoulder.
“What were you two conspiring about?” she asked.
“Houses,” he said. “I hear you might be in the market for a house.”
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t considered moving back here might mean she could keep seeing Raymond. Which was silly. They’d just met. There was no guarantee he’d want to see her after tonight.
“I could show you some possibilities,” he said. “Officially, of course.”
Officially?
“I’m a real estate broker,” he said in answer to her unasked question.
They’d never talked about what they did for a living. They’d chatted about high school and flirted with each other, and listened while Lucas and Marta bantered back and forth. What were the odds that she’d meet a wonderful man who would not only steal her heart, but help her find a new home?
“Can you start tomorrow?” she asked, with a hopeful, happy smile.
He pulled her in close. “Tomorrow sounds like a plan.”
She wanted to kiss him, but she felt as though he’d been holding himself back all evening. She hoped that all he needed was a little push. She reached in the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a sprig of plastic mistletoe she’d spotted on one of the tables.
She couldn’t quite hold the sprig over his head—he was a little too tall for that—but she did her best. “Look what I found.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “I do believe that’s mistletoe.”
“I do believe,” she echoed. “It’s not ‘I’ll be Home for Christmas,’ but it’s the best I could do on short notice.”
His glance fell to her mouth, then lifted back to her eyes. “It might be time to start a new tradition.” He lowered his lips to hers.
The world melted away as they shared a tender kiss beneath the plastic mistletoe. It had been a long time since Jeannie had been kissed so sweetly.
She knew this would be the first of many kisses she would share with this man. They’d see each other tomorrow and maybe the day after that. They’d get to know each other better than they had tonight.
But tonight had taught her one thing she’d allowed herself to forget while she was living with her daughter. Life was short. Second chances didn’t come around often. Cissy’s friends had moved an entire reunion to make sure Cissy got a second chance to experience high school.
Meeting Raymond was giving Jeannie a second chance at love. She wouldn’t squander it.
When their lips parted, she stared into Raymond’s eyes.
Kind eyes, she’d thought earlier. Loving eyes, she thought now. “Tradition implies we’ll be doing that more often.”
He stroked the side of her face with one strong, gentle hand. “You can count on it.”
Count on it? Oh yes, she most definitely would.
_____________________
A prolific, versatile, and award-winning writer, Annie Reed’s written more short fiction than she can count. She’s a frequent contributor to both Fiction River and Pulphouse Fiction Magazine. Her stories appear regularly on Tangent Online’s recommended reading lists, and “The Color of Guilt,” originally published in Fiction River: Hidden in Crime, was selected as one of The Best Crime and Mystery Stories 2016 (another one of her stories, “The Flower of the Tabernacle,” also received an Honorable Mention). She’s even had a sweet holiday romance story selected for inclusion in study materials for Japanese college entrance exams. Her Unexpected series of short-story collections showcase some of the best of her work.
Annie’s a founding member and contributor to the innovative Uncollected Anthology series of themed urban and contemporary fantasy anthologies. She writes romance, mystery, science fiction, and fantasy under her own name and suspense novels as Kris Sparks. She also writes sweet romance novels under the name Liz McKnight. Sweet Valentines, an anthology of sweet holiday romance stories which Annie edited, will be released in early 2022.