As pleasant as Mrs. Aldarmann had been to him, Dave sensed oppression in the stifling borders of her world. He could understand why Kayanne would be tempted to deny her roots and bolt the instant opportunity had presented itself. It was harder to figure out why she had returned. He suspected that whatever had brought her back was the same impulse that would someday turn his own steps home to sort out who he’d once been—and who he wanted to become.
Worried that Kayanne might make a run for it at the next stoplight, Dave forced his meandering thoughts back to her original query about whether he would rather be someplace else.
“Have you changed your mind about going to this thing?” he asked.
There were lots of places they could go instead, and it didn’t have to be to a bar. Kayanne’s previous references to making amends hadn’t been lost on him. He wanted no part of pushing someone who might be struggling with addiction off the wagon.
“No,” she said with all the enthusiasm of someone about to undergo a pelvic exam. “This is something I need to do. Probably should have done a long time ago. But I have to warn you. You might hear some ugly things about me tonight. And most of them are probably true….”
Seven
Kayanne used a minimum of words to guide Dave to the high school. As tempted as she was to ask him to avoid driving by Pete Nargas’s old house, it was along the most direct route, and there was little point in postponing the onslaught of feelings that the reunion itself was sure to evoke. Unable to avert her gaze, she felt a stab of guilt as they passed by the Nargas home. The place seemed downcast, as though the vitality had seeped out. The old porch swing needed a fresh coat of paint.
The sight stirred memories of holding hands, wishing upon falling stars and stealing kisses under Pete’s little brothers’ and sisters’ ever-vigilant surveillance. Kayanne smiled at the thought of his father flipping the porch light off and on three times in quick succession to let them know it was time to call it a night before their innocent kisses could get out of hand. Through the open car window she caught a whiff of fragrant honeysuckle. In her absence, the bush had almost taken over Pete’s bedroom window. As sweet as those blossoms, Kayanne had yet to find anything as redolent as her first love.
She missed the stability of Pete’s loving family almost as much as she missed him. Kayanne wished there was some way of opening the lines of communication between them. But she couldn’t. Not without hurting them in the process. Even Beth cautioned her about making amends if it caused the other person undue pain.
As Kayanne and Dave pulled into the parking lot, she felt her heartbeat race. It went into warp speed when Dave opened the double doors of the gymnasium and she stepped back into the past in which she’d been another person. A professional who’d endured the perils of a career that spanned both coasts, Kayanne managed a dazzling smile as she swept into the room. The distinctive odor of that gym instantly took her to her sophomore year when she’d failed to make the cheerleading squad. All arms and legs with a mouthful of braces, she’d lacked the self-confidence, not to mention the coordination, to pull off a winning routine.
Who could have predicted gawky Kay Anne Aldarmann would emerge from the painfully awkward cocoon of adolescence as such a beautiful butterfly? Certainly not her. She still found it ironic that women all over the world attempted to duplicate the auburn mane that had once been the bane of her childhood. Even now she wondered why she felt compelled to prove herself to this particular group of peers after she’d already proven herself to the entire world.
Drawing on her runway experience, she calmed the butterflies in her stomach as she filled out her name tag with an artistic flourish.
Kayanne
Just one word. The name she’d picked for herself when she’d turned away from this town. Her last name was as unnecessary as the required tag she dutifully pinned on her chest. Recognition caused a stir as everybody paused to stare. Operating as if that stir didn’t exist at all, Kayanne took Dave’s hand and allowed him to escort her across the gym floor. His hand felt strong, sinewy, hairy and every bit as masculine and reassuring as its owner. Suddenly there was warmth deep inside Kayanne where before only a cold, stinging wind had howled.
The two of them made a striking pair. Kayanne looked as though she’d stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, and Dave was a dream in a pair of dark slacks and a silk dress shirt. A diamond tie tack glinted in the dim lights. His all-American good looks rivaled those of any of the pretty boys who’d accompanied her on prestigious shoots around the world. As the most eligible bachelor in town, his presence by her side proved far more shocking than any rebel Kayanne’s old classmates might have expected to accompany her. She gave him her best superstar smile.
“Lots of eligible single women here,” she pointed out. “Here’s your chance to introduce yourself to the local lovelies.”
“Why bother when I’m with the most beautiful woman in the room?”
It was such a sweet thing to say that Kayanne almost stopped in mid-stride to kiss him. Covertly scanning the crowd, she thought the better of it though. Why reward him by risking his sterling reputation? Not when he was doing her a huge favor just by being here.
Looking around, Kayanne was surprised by her old classmates’ appearances. Prepared to be shocked by the passage of time, she discovered it wasn’t going to be as hard as she’d imagined matching the adolescent faces she remembered with the countenances that were regarding her so cautiously. The head cheerleader was just as cute as Kayanne remembered, and though the quarterback was sporting a little gray at the temples, he still looked hot. A few schoolmates had widening girths and balding pates, but overall everybody looked pretty good.
The fact that people were already gravitating to the same old cliques they’d hung with then only intensified Kayanne’s growing sense of panic. It seemed little had changed in the ten years she’d been gone. Before the night was over she worried that the same old people would be saying the same old things about her.
Banners hanging from the ceiling attested to the mighty Broncs’ state and regional championships. Faded felt had stood the test of time better than the athletes who’d earned those titles, many of whom had long ago passed from this world. As Dave steered her across the gym floor toward the punch bowl, Kayanne felt the whispers at her back as keenly as pinpricks. She hadn’t felt this self-conscious since the fateful night of her senior prom when she’d broken up with Pete Nargas and had changed the course of both their lives forever. That was the last time she remembered dating a genuinely nice guy—until letting Dave into her life.
Was it Pete’s ghost murmuring his name in her ear? Or merely another classmate, with a long memory and the need to blame her for Pete’s decision, who was reviving old, hurtful rumors?
Kayanne asked Dave to get her a glass of punch from the nonalcoholic bowl. She appreciated the fact that he did so without comment. Having been the girl who’d spiked the punch at more than one school dance, she knew the irony would be lost on many of her classmates. She couldn’t count the number of people she knew who had literally spent a fortune on some expensive treatment center only to fall back into deadly habits the minute they rejoined their usual crowd of friends. So it was that sobriety was a salty dish that Kayanne dared not ask anyone to share with her.
Glad to have something to occupy her hands, she sipped slowly, hoping to make this drink last a good long while. Suddenly a tiny woman with steel-gray hair cut into the shape of a helmet zeroed in on them from across the floor. Kayanne’s face broke into a wide smile. She asked Dave to hold her cup before opening her arms to her former mentor.
“Mrs. Rawlins!”
“I’m so glad you could make it,” the woman said, wrapping herself around Kayanne’s waist and giving it a good squeeze.
Kayanne couldn’t remember being so glad to see a familiar, welcoming face.
“I heard they’re giving you an award tonight,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
Kayanne laughed. “I can’t imagine SHS without you. The school just won’t be the same,” she said, meaning it.
Had it not been for the likes of the indomitable Gertrude Rawlins, Kayanne probably would have dropped out of school altogether.
“You look wonderful,” Mrs. Rawlins said, stepping back to take a good look. “Even better than in print.”
“I hope you don’t subscribe to any of those awful tabloids that go out of their way to make people look their worst,” Kayanne said with chagrin. “I have to admit that I’m feeling somewhat ancient tonight. You, on the other hand, don’t look a day older than when I left.”
Mrs. Rawlins clucked in disbelief. She turned to Dave. “If you wouldn’t begrudge an old lady a few minutes, I’d like to show Kayanne off to my colleagues, some of whom were so foolish as to actually question whether she’d make it big.”
“Or even graduate,” Kayanne admitted in all honesty. Recalling the unpleasantness associated with her senior year, she added, “I suspect you’re the only teacher who remembers me fondly.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs. Rawlins said brusquely. “I distinctly remember you having the intelligence and courage to match your looks. I hope you’re not still blaming yourself for what happened to Pete Nargas.”
Dave’s ears perked up. In truth his curiosity had little to do with developing the characters in his novel. He wondered if this Pete fellow was someone Kayanne had once loved. Someone she’d never gotten over? Did he have something to do with her fear of intimacy? Or the reason she’d left town so long ago?
“I’ll wait for you here,” Dave said, taking an observer’s position against the nearest wall and making mental notes.
Festooned in the school colors of blue and gold, the scene took him back to his own high-school days. Crepe paper and handmade signs harkened to a less complicated time in his life. His adolescence hadn’t been marked by the obvious hardships of Kayanne’s; there had always been plenty of money in the Evans household. But growing up is never without pain. His family’s expectations of him appeared to be the polar opposite of those with which Kayanne had been raised. If people seemed to expect failure from her, success was presumed for him. It wore the same starched and stiff shirt his father and grandfather had passed from one generation to the next. As tacky as Mrs. Aldarmann’s Wall of Fame might seem, Dave wished that his parents were as supportive of his literary and academic successes as Kayanne’s mother was of her daughter’s accomplishments, no matter how far removed they might be from her own pedantic life.
“You’re an unusual specimen of wallflower,” a sultry voice informed him.
It belonged to a blonde whose name tag identified her as Valerie Davis-Mills. Dave wondered whether her reed-thin figure could be attributed to excessive dieting and compulsive exercising or just good genes. And he noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
“Didn’t I see you walk in with Kay Anne?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Did you?”
Her laugh was a throaty gurgle. The next thing Dave knew, she’d stepped closer and proceeded to launch into a line of questioning that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Valerie guessed with a knowing smile.
Since the question was rhetorical, she didn’t wait for his response before asking another. “How long have you known our little homegrown celebrity?”
“Not long.”
“I don’t suppose Kay’s ever mentioned Pete Nargas to you?”
“No, but I can’t say this is the first time I’ve heard the name.”
Torn between his curiosity and loyalty to Kayanne, Dave tried to remain polite while keeping his answers short and noncommittal.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Valerie nodded meaningfully. She looked disappointed when Dave didn’t follow up by asking her to share any of her secrets.
“What about a Jason DeWinter?”
Assuming Jason and Pete were old boyfriends, Dave felt a sudden need to put an end to a conversation that led him to believe Valerie was the type of person who relied on innuendo to make herself feel better. It had the opposite effect on him. There were better ways to research a fictional character than by engaging in shameless gossip. He shook his head.
“I’m afraid not. The truth is I’m a whole lot more interested in the woman Kayanne is now than the girl she was back in high school.”
Although Valerie’s voice remained saccharine, her smile turned brittle.
“How very sweet of you,” she crooned, reaching up to pat his shoulder. Her eyebrows shot up when she discovered the muscles beneath that shirt. “By the way, what is it that you do, Mr…?”
“Evans. Dave Evans. I’m presently unemployed but will be teaching English at the college this fall. With an emphasis on creative writing.”
Valerie looked positively enthralled. “Right here? In little old Sheridan? You know, I’ve thought about taking a writing class myself. I have a stack of poems that I’d just love to have you help me dust off….”
When she finally left him to join a nearby group of old friends, Dave didn’t have to strain to hear what she had to report over the patter of a DJ who was cranking out nostalgic tunes of the 1990s. Dave tapped his foot in time to the music. Everyone in his parents’ social circle enrolled their children in formal as well as popular dance lessons. As much as he’d hated it at the time, as an adult he was glad not to have to worry about crushing his date’s instep with his size-twelve shoes.
“You don’t think she’s actually got the nerve to approach Jason DeWinter in public, do you?” he heard a shocked voice ask Valerie.
Dave felt disgusted. If he’d come here looking for dirt, those ladies were unloading it by the dump load in the middle of the floor. It was hard to believe that anything so petty could stir a sense of jealousy in him, but it did. He didn’t even know the much maligned Mr. DeWinter, but suddenly Dave wanted to punch his lights out.
He’d always assumed that high school was hell for homely girls. It had never occurred to him that it might be less than heavenly for beautiful girls as well. No wonder Kayanne hadn’t wanted to come to this reunion alone. No wonder she’d thought about having a drink to steady her nerves. He could use one himself.
He pushed off from the wall and sauntered over to where Mrs. Rawlins was reintroducing Kayanne to her colleagues. Slipping an arm possessively around her waist, he felt her tremble. It was the only hint of nervousness to be discerned from a woman who carried herself as coolly as a queen. Dave’s chest grew tight as unfamiliar feelings swelled up inside of him.
The writer’s objectivity he’d always clung to dissipated beneath the warmth of the look Kayanne gave him. Until now he had never seen the slightest glimmer of weakness in those mystical eyes of hers. It utterly destroyed all of the signs he’d posted around his heart to keep trespassers out.
Dave wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was protecting this woman from. He only knew that it was imperative that he be by her side for the rest of the evening and that he treat her like a precious object in the face of mudslinging and outright envy. That wasn’t particularly difficult to do. None of the men in the room could take their eyes off her, and Dave was no exception. On one hand, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world to have earned this woman’s trust. And on the other, like the biggest schmuck on the face of the earth for secretly betraying her.
As Mrs. Rawlins left them to take a place of honor at the table set up in the front of the room, Dave wondered if it would ever occur to Kayanne that she had far less to fear from the specters of her past than she did from him. If she ever were to read his manuscript and put two and two together, she would undoubtedly be hurt by some of the jagged descriptions he’d written. Likely she would be offe
nded by the lustful turn his plot had taken.
Kayanne dragged him into the present moment by squeezing his hand hard.
“Whatever happens in the next few minutes,” she whispered, “promise that you won’t leave me.”
Dave’s muscles tensed as he followed her gaze to a man in his late forties. Somewhat short and slight of stature, he still retained a handsome visage with his bright blue eyes. The fact that he wasn’t wearing a name tag on his brown tweed jacket indicated to Dave that he was probably a member of the faculty. The man suddenly grew red in the face as he recognized Kayanne. Had she not stuck out her hand and forced him to acknowledge her, Dave suspected the fellow would have bolted for the door.
“Mr. DeWinter,” she said. “What a surprise to see you again.”
Eight
Kayanne studied the man quivering in front of her with something akin to shock. In high school, through the eyes of innocence, she’d viewed Jason DeWinter as the wisest and handsomest man alive—almost a kind of god. Later, in drunken contemplation of the wrongs done to her, she’d convinced herself that he was nothing short of a monster—a married adult who had deliberately manipulated a young girl’s grief for his own gain. A sexual predator of the worst sort.
A wolf in trusted counselor’s clothing.
She was having trouble getting her mind around the fact that this man with the limp, sweaty handshake wasn’t an imposter. Neither deity nor devil, Jason was as mortal as she herself was. And it occurred to her for the first time in her life that he might even be more vulnerable.
It would be a lie to say that Kayanne hadn’t wavered between wanting to make amends for any part she may have played in causing him to stray from the path of marital fidelity and dressing him down in front of the entire throng for a fraud and a sexual deviant. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dave’s hands curled into fists where they hung at his sides. She took comfort in the fact that he was willing to rush to her defense without even knowing the history leading to this confrontation. It was tempting simply to turn tail before he could hear the sordid details of her misspent youth, but Kayanne felt it important that Dave know her for who she was—and what the community saw her as. If he wanted to deepen their relationship after that, Kayanne would know she’d found something special.
A Splendid Obsession Page 7