“Dave’s gone. Connie’s gone. Pam, Kathy, Lawrence, Pat… gone. Attending the reunion would be too sad,” Devon said.
She pointed to the pictures in her senior yearbook as she said the names.
Names of some of her closest friends from a core group of high school classmates. In here, they were still as alive as her memories of them. As alive as the messages they penned to her. Dave doodled little drawings and comments throughout her yearbook just for her. Every pen stroke was a living testimony to a special friendship. Dave’s widow won’t be there. She’ll be in Alaska where they had carved out a wonderful life. Devon and Patty never met. After Dave died, she’d sent a long hand-written condolence letter sharing the Dave she knew in high school. Patty never wrote back. Maybe she never received it, or maybe Devon’s Dave was too far removed from her Dave.
“Mom, what about your other classmates? Don’t you want to see them?” Cassidy asked.
Devon looked at her daughter. Whatever argument she made, Cassidy would have a rebuttal. It was the price of raising strong-willed independent children. Her oldest daughter was wise beyond her years. Cass recognized excuses disguised as reasons, and she never shied away from pointing them out.
Devon could count on one hand the number of times she’d been back to her hometown in the past twenty-five years. Her husband (now ex-husband) Charlie had no ties to Planerville or the Sunshine State, and zero interest in ever visiting her family. It became a sore spot in their relationship. A warning sign she should have recognized but didn’t. The longer she stayed away, the harder it got. She moved away. To her family, she was the one who should come home. Now, her brother, the last remaining Reynolds in Planerville had moved away. The family home was gone; her other relatives were spread across several cemeteries.
There would be no sitting around the table playing cards until midnight. No biscuits and gravy for breakfast or fresh-squeezed orange juice from the trees in the backyard.
The peach and turquoise-colored open hallways of the high school were gone. A red, black, and white exterior now shielded students from the weather and hopefully, lunatics with guns. The high school gym where championships were won and lost was new and state of the art. Nothing to see there, but change.
The reunion wasn’t even going to be held at the high school. It would be at Mike and April Tucker’s farm forty-five minutes away. Devon never imagined one of her friends would choose to stay and become a farmer, when so many of her classmates had talked of nothing, but escaping that life.
“Life has a way of happening without our consent.” Devon said aloud.
She continued before Cass could argue with her.
“I keep up on social media with a lot of my classmates. Some of them are quite different now. I’m different now. What if I go 1,200 miles and feel like a stranger?”
She held up her yearbook.
“This,” she said, “was a special time in my life. These people were special. I’m not ready to lose all of them.”
“I’ve never known you to live in denial or be afraid of anything,” Cass said. “What’s really going on here, mom?”
***
I’m here. Devon texted while waiting in line to pick up her rental car. I’ll text again when I get to my hotel. Love you, Cass!
Driving toward Planerville, Devon wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful or manipulated. Cassidy asked why she’d never attended a single reunion in forty years. Every response to the question sounded like an excuse. Other people managed to go. The easy answer was the five-or ten-year intervals between reunions always seemed to end at the least convenient times. Five years after graduation she was in Texas. For the ten-year reunion, she was in California. By her fifteen-year reunion, she was in Philadelphia due any day with her third child. Life was happening, and she was never closer to Planerville than a thousand miles. Charlie was “conveniently” always working. Driving that far alone with small children seemed insane. Flying, navigating multiple terminals, and rental cars would be expensive and a logistical nightmare. Even with careful budgeting and scheduling every attempt to attend fell flat. The universe seemed to be trying to tell her something. But, this year, as Cassidy pointed out, the kids were grown. She and Charlie were divorced. Her finances were solid, and the universe was silent. Crickets. Nothing was stopping her, but her.
Grateful or manipulated?
Why did I ever encourage Cassidy to join the debate team? Maybe I should have joined when I was in high school.
Devon turned her attention to her surroundings.
Palm trees, live oaks and bald cypress dripping with Spanish moss, and a few scattered orange groves dotted the landscape along with several new buildings. The orange groves were shrinking, victims of citrus canker, climate change, and commercial development. Parts of her sleepy hometown had come awake in surprising fashion. Fast food restaurants replaced the diners she and her friends converged upon after football and basketball games. The planetarium, once the largest building in Planerville, was dwarfed by two high-rises overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Multiple trailer parks inhabited by snowbirds had been replaced by gated “Over 55” communities.
The hotel recommended by the official reunion committee was new and close to several new restaurants. At least she’d have some decent seafood this week whatever else happened.
“Hi, I’m Sondra. Are you here for the Reunion?” the young woman at the front desk asked as she pulled up Devon’s reservation.
“Yes,” Devon answered.
She looked Devon up and down. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but you held up great.”
Devon laughed for what seemed like the first time since she accepted the invitation to the reunion. She wasn’t sure if she should be offended that the young woman expected every sixty-year-old to be a decrepit mess, but it felt good hearing she wasn’t there yet.
“Thank you, Sondra. I live up north now. Being frozen half the year is a great preservative,” she quipped.
“Naw,” Sondra laughed. “You’re one of those people that works out all the time. What’s your secret Pilates, Zumba, Yoga?”
“I do a little bit of everything, I suppose, but I’m not kidding about the weather. A little break from the sun does wonders for the skin.”
“I’ll remember that Ms. Reynolds. Welcome to the Pelican Point Hotel. Here is your keycard. Your reunion packet’s in your room. Your group is meeting in the bar for Happy Hour at 5 p.m. If you need anything, please call us at the front desk.”
“Thanks again, Sondra.” Devon said.
***
Devon finished unpacking, changed into her swimsuit, and slathered on sunscreen before heading down to the beach. Even with a hat and sunglasses, she squinted as the sun bounced off the water.
Toes in the sand as the water came cascading over them; lungs filled with the fresh ocean air. She was home in a way she never expected to be again. Devon waded out slowly adjusting to the ocean’s embrace before diving headfirst into a wave headed for shore.
“Well, if it isn’t bird legs,” a voice called from shore.
Devon looked up to see the only person in high school who was ever mean to her, Mary Benson. The taunts came flooding back. Every pimple. Every comment about her “bird legs,” the length of her skirts, or the fit of her jeans. Every unkind word about how she wore her hair or did her makeup. Devon thought she was over it, but six words brought everything back.
The years hadn’t been kind to Mary. Her frizzy hair was thinning and the girth around her mid-section now enveloped most of her body. A cane rested beside her beach chair.
“Hello, Mary.” Devon said. “How are you?”
“Better than you.” Mary sneered. “I heard your husband dumped you. I’m surprised anybody was ever desperate enough to marry you.”
“Planerville has changed a lot since I’ve been gone,” Devon said. “Nice to see some things never change, Mary.”
***
Devon showered, styled her hair, and carefully applied makeup. She selected a dress for Happy Hour. Seeing Mary on the beach was probably the best way to start the week. Every other classmate she ran into had to be nicer. Mary was larger than life in high school and twice as mean as an angry alligator. Now, she was just pathetic. The momentary power she held over Devon on the beach disappeared as soon as Devon walked away from her. Was Mary part of the reason she stayed away all these years?
She felt foolish and relieved at the same time. Coming home, if only for a few days, was a gift her friend Dave had been denied, and Devon wasn’t going to waste it.