Dig

by Dan Dillard

  ***

  Inside, there was another table with name tags and the same registry book from the night before. He didn’t sign it again. The thin woman, Abbie Dalton, was not manning the table this time. Instead, a man named Phil Elliott, who Rusty remembered as the starting quarterback their senior year was sitting there in a suit and tie. He hadn’t changed at all, except maybe a little around the eyes.

  “Rusty and Robyn. How perfect,” Phil said. “Have you two been together this whole time?”

  “No, Robyn said. We are just getting started.” She looked at Rusty, perhaps he thought, to see if he might run for the door. He smiled at her. The idea sounded fine to him.

  “That’s right,” he said. “It feels strange to have a girlfriend at my age. Is that what you tell people when you’re almost forty? This is my girlfriend?”

  Phil smiled and shook his head as if he’d never thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said. “Congratulations, though. Remind me later and when I get out from behind this table we’ll toast to new beginnings.”

  “Will do,” Rusty said.

  “The nametags are not really necessary. Wear one if you want. If you don’t, no big deal…but it will save you a lot of time re-introducing yourself. Everyone walks by and looks at my chest before they look at my face,” Phil said.

  Ahh, charming Phil. He isn’t all bad. He isn’t…mean.

  Not as bad as he remembered in high school anyway. Maybe he’d never had the chance to know the guy. More likely, he was intimidated by Phil’s popularity or just cut off by the social structure of high school. Maybe he misjudged. But that was what high school was all about, wasn’t it? Judgment?

  “Have a good time Robyn…Rusty. I hope we get to catch up a little,” Phil said.

  “Thanks,” Rusty said.

  He gave Robyn a gentle push in the small of her back and followed her down the hallway to the old gymnasium where Kajagoogoo sang “Too Shy” over the DJ’s loudspeakers. There were streamers and confetti and flowers on linen draped tables that lined the outside of the room. People in clothing that ranged from Sunday’s best suits and dresses to t-shirts and shorts milled around, stopping to look at nametags and shake hands, stopping at the hors d’ourves table and the cash bar for a beer or a plastic cup of wine. Several couples danced on the floor in front of the DJ stand.

  “Would you care to dance?” Rusty asked.

  “I’m not a dancer. You know that. We had this conversation.”

  Not dancing meant they would probably have to mingle.

  “Right, a couple drinks and a slow dance, right?”

  “Sure. Get me buzzed and when the song from Top Gun comes on, ask me again.”

  “Berlin,” he said.

  “What?”

  ““Take My Breath Away” by Berlin.”

  She scrunched her face up in thought and then smiled. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  They’d made it all the way to the bar without being accosted by the ghosts of days long past when Chris popped up sipping from a bottle of water.

  “Hey man, you aren’t going to believe the shit that went down this morning,” he said.

  “Corona, please. Two of them,” Rusty said to the bartender. Then, “Do tell,” to his friend, Chris.

  The bartender handed Rusty two cold bottles with the tops popped off, a slice of lime sticking out of each one. Rusty handed him a five dollar bill and turned away. Robyn snatched one of the bottles from his hand and shoved the lime inside before taking a drink.

  They followed Chris back to his table and greeted Vicky who appeared to be miserable.

  “He tell you?” she asked.

  “I think he was about to,” Rusty said.

  Chris opened up his mouth to speak and Vicky cut him off. “My friend, Leah? She caught her husband cheating this morning. Well, her son and our son caught him.”

  “No shit?” Rusty said. Vicky and Chris nodded. Vicky’s face had a what-are-you-gonna-do? quality, but Chris was smirking.

  “I saw a boy with you as we came in. Is that your son? Where is he? I’d love to meet him,” Robyn said.

  “He’s roaming the halls. He’s the only kid here. That should be okay, right? I mean he’ll be fine, he’s fifteen.”

  “I would think so,” Robyn said and then shrugged at Rusty.

  Rusty was still dumbfounded. “So, when you say the kids caught them, what does that mean exactly?” he said.

  “They were outside with Calvin’s telescope,” Chris said.

  “That’s my friend Leah’s son,” Vicky interrupted. “Anyway, the boys were laughing and grab-assing and so we go down to their pier to see what is so funny and Chris takes a look through the scope.”

  “Yeah,” Chris said.

  “And tell ‘em what you saw, honey,” she said.

  “Maybe the greatest pair of tits I’ve ever seen, outside of Playboy or late night Cinemax.”

  Vicky slapped him on the arm. Robyn and Rusty’s eyes opened wide and they both snorted a quick laugh of disbelief.

  “No shit, Strings,” Chris said. “Doc was getting the ride of his life out there on some homemade pier. Right there on the waterway. I never wanted a fishing boat so bad in my life.”

  “You’re vile,” Vicky said. “Just a pig.”

  “And you let your kid watch this?” Robyn said to Chris.

  “Well, he’d already seen it by that point, but no. We put a stop to it. Unfortunately, Leah looked just as they were finishing up and the doc made the mistake of turning around for the camera, so to speak.”

  “Ouch,” Rusty said.

  “What did she do?” Robyn asked.

  Vicky smiled. “She cursed a lot and then she called me later, said she was driving up to her mother’s house in Raleigh. It’s lucky for the good doctor. Leah would’ve killed him if she could’ve gotten her hands around his neck. Or his balls. I expect she’ll own that house before too long. I hope that young woman was worth it.”

  “She is. Totally worth it,” Chris said and Vicky slapped him again.

  Then she grinned. “Chris and Leah never did get along. But I hope she takes him for all he’s worth. Asshole.”

  The ladies clinked their beers together and drank to the sentiment as if it was “Auld Lang Syne.”

  “See that, Padre?” Rusty said. “Behave yourself.”

  “Vicky owns me,” Chris said. “She knows it. I know it.”

  “Damn straight,” Vicky said.

  Rusty noticed they’d been at the reunion for fifteen minutes and Chris hadn’t had any alcohol. “Are you hurting from last night?” he said.

  “I’m pacing myself,” Chris said.

  ”He’s embarrassed because he puked on his shoes?” Vicky said.

  “Ha ha,” Chris said. “I’ll puke on you.”

  “I told him to live it up, but expect the same from me or worse at my reunion in a couple years. He’ll plan ahead if it means he can be lazy.”

  Rusty laughed out loud. Robyn held it in longer, but joined him after a few seconds. Chris conducted as if there was an orchestra in front of him and smiled as his cheeks turned red. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I need a beer. Anyone else?”

  Three hands went up and he went back to the bartender, handed him a ten and got four more two-dollar Coronas. The DJ skipped from Jan Hammer’s “Miami Vice Theme” to “Rhythm of the Night” by DeBarge. On the way back to the table, he was stopped by a shapely woman in a very short skirt. Her hair was dirty blond and fell well past her shoulders. Vicky noticed and turned to Robyn.

  “Look over there,” she said. “You’ll see how well I have him trained.”

  The woman in the skirt squealed and rubbed Chris’s bald head, then hugged him. She left her hand on his shoulder just a bit too long. Robyn looked at Vicky.

  “You sure? That looks a little iffy to me.”

  “Watch and learn, sister,” Vicky said.

  Chris’s head bobbed back and forth over each of the woman’s shoulders and he
made eye-contact with his wife. The three watched as Chris turned the conversation around and headed to their table.

  “See what I mean?” Vicky said.

  “Well,” Robyn started. “What is your secret?”

  “He works for my father. The company will be mine when dad retires, and I’ll be the boss at work as well as home. He’s well aware of this fact and he’s also well aware that I put up with his bald head, his gut and the fact that at heart, he’s still a sixteen year old. In short, he’s lucky he found me.”

  “Whatever works,” Robyn said.

  Rusty was silent, not because he was in awe of Vicky’s handle on her relationship. That was obvious the moment he met her. Chris hadn’t changed a bit and he was always the easy one to bring around in any situation. Chris was the follower of the group. What had his tongue was the blonde woman. Her name was Tanya, pronounced like can-ya.