Reunion: A Novel

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I’m glad José is going with the truck.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t want to fight with him and if he’s here, I know a fight will start. Is his grandmother still coming to the party?”

  “I hope so. I’ve not talked with her.” Leah glanced at her watch. “We need to leave. We’ll let you off under the portico at the gym and go park the car.”

  Kirsten glanced around her room. “Do I have everything?”

  “Notes for your speech? Honor cords.”

  “I didn’t make any notes for the speech, just the presentation. I’ll be fine. I do have the list of teachers.” She picked up her purse, checked to make sure a brush and lipstick were in it, and took in a deep breath. “And the honor cords are on the hanger under the robe.”

  Only the beat of the windshield wipers broke the silence in the car on the way to the high school. Marcus stopped at the entrance to the gymnasium and turned toward his daughter. “We’ll be praying for your speech to go well.”

  “Th-thanks, Dad.” Her eyes filled with tears as she climbed out of the backseat and took the hanger from her mother, who kissed her cheek.

  “Once you start to talk, the butterflies will melt away.”

  Kirsten nodded.

  “Hey, Kirsten, we’re waiting for you,” Lindsey called from the open door.

  “I’m not late.”

  “Nope.”

  Kirsten waved once more to her parents and strode to the doorway. If only she could run and hide.

  “We’re all in the theater. They’re still checking the microphones and things in the auditorium. Outside on the field would have been so much nicer.” Lindsey flipped her cinnamon hair over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Did you know José is going south with the truck? He and Brandon?”

  “I know.” Kirsten focused on her midsection, where butterflies were doing cartwheels and flutter races. Not telling Lindsey what was happening was really hard. “And it’s okay.”

  Lindsey gave her a funny look but dropped the subject as they joined a group of girls. The guys were gathered on the other side of the room, listening to Coach Latimar give them a pep talk. His wife, Mrs. Latimar, was in charge of the girls.

  “Hi, Kirsten. You all ready?”

  Besides her salutatorian speech, Kirsten would be presenting the senior gift to the school. The class had chosen to plant a line of flowering cherry trees along the north edge of the parking lot with dedication plaques honoring their teachers. She glanced over to see José looking at her. She forced herself to smile at him and was reminded again how handsome he was when he smiled back.

  Her heart did the funny little jig it always did when she saw him. The guys were all wearing white shirts and dark pants, no jeans allowed.

  When Coach Latimar gave the order for everyone to suit up, the graduates put their robes on and helped each other with the mortarboards—tassels on the right side now, to be moved to the left when they had their diplomas and walked off the stage. “Someone help Carl over there. We don’t want him falling on his crutches. Glad you could make it, son.” The rest of the class applauded and someone whistled. While the other two were still in the hospital, Carl was stumping his way with his class, a slightly dazed look on his face but he was there.

  Kirsten hung her honor cords around her neck and made sure she had her notes for the presentation tucked in the wristband of her watch. The girls’ purses would be left in the locked room. Sure seemed strange not to have her own locker anymore. When the order to line up came, they fell into place alphabetically just like they had practiced, with Mrs. Latimar checking them off down the line.

  “Where’s Sammy?” she asked his walking partner.

  “Don’t know. I haven’t seen him.”

  Mrs. Latimar drew her finger down the list and read Sammy’s phone number to her husband, who had pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. They could hear it ringing just as Sammy charged into the room, his robe billowing around his tall, skinny body. He skidded into place.

  “Sorry, I’m late.”

  “Well you made it, Samuel Stenerson. I swear you’ll be late for your own wedding.” Mrs. Latimar grinned at him.

  “Naw, for his funeral,” one of the boys quipped.

  The teachers moved back to the end of the line and when they had checked everyone, they walked up to the front. “Now remember, ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ is a march, so keep the cadence. Makes it easier for your partner, you know,” Coach Latimar reminded them.

  Kirsten could hear the school band playing and when the music changed, the Latimars opened the double doors and the class marched in. They filed into the rows and took their assigned seats in the order they were to receive their diplomas. The ceremony began with the Reverend Marcus Sorenson offering the invocation.

  “Did you know he was going to do that?” Lindsey whispered.

  Kirsten shook her head. They all bowed their heads and silence crept over the crowd.

  “Lord God, creator of us all, ruler of the universe, look upon these, your children, with favor as they enter the next phase of their lives. Give them wisdom and guide them along your paths that they may bring glory to your holy name. Teach them and help them to know for absolutely sure how much you love them. Thank you for the privilege of knowing them and watching them grow up. In the name of your precious son, Jesus, we pray.” He raised his head and looked down at them. Kirsten noticed his eyes never met hers. “I want you to know how proud I am of each of you.” He raised his gaze to the rest of the gathering. “And to all of the families gathered here, well done.”

  Applause broke out as he turned and walked off the raised stage.

  Kirsten blinked and sniffed. Her father always had just the right words to say, except to her since she made her announcement. However, knowing her father, he had most likely cleared his prayer with the school board first. Munsford School District had borne the brunt of complaints regarding religious material before and most likely would again. So far, they stood their ground.

  “You have the best dad around,” Lindsey whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  When it came time to present the class gift to the school, Kirsten walked to the microphone. “As president of the senior class, it is my privilege to honor the entire Munsford High School faculty with a planting of trees. You have enriched our knowledge and challenged our lives in ways unimaginable.” She read all their names from the list, grateful she’d not forgotten any. “Thank you.” When she took her seat again, Lindsey congratulated her.

  “You looked so calm and at ease up there. I’d be shaking so hard I’d drop the mic.”

  “You can’t see inside me.”

  After the scholarships were read and presented, the principal called Kirsten’s name and read off her list of accomplishments as she walked up the steps again, making sure to not trip on her robe. That had been one of her worries. She raised the mic and looked out across the sea of people, including way up into the upper-tier seats. The only time she’d seen the building this full was when the Harlem Globetrotters had come to town and played against the faculty.

  She pushed out a breath, and though her lips wavered a bit, she smiled. “Families, friends, and fellow classmates. Most of us have been together for twelve years, thirteen if you include kindergarten. We’ve laughed and teased and struggled and cried, but we’ve all stood together. And now we are finished with this part of our life and ready for the next. We’ve been dreaming about what we want to do, be it go on to college, go to vocational school, or join the workforce. Some of us are going into the military. Dreams are so important to what we will accomplish in our lives. Think of all the times a teacher said to you, ‘Stop daydreaming and get your work done.’ ” Snickers sprinkled the group before her. “But daydreaming is important, especially when it is a rehearsal for the things we are doing. Choosing to see yourself accomplishing your dream will train your mind and body for the skills needed for life. Coaches teach athletes to do this all the t
ime. Olympic athletes know well the value of practicing their skill in their minds. If it works for them, why not for the rest of us?” She paused and looked over the group, keeping her gaze away from José. She knew if she looked at him she would cry and that would not happen this afternoon. The two of them had rehearsed together and made sure their speeches complemented each other.

  She also made sure she didn’t look at her family, all lined up in the fourth row.

  “I want to share something Mr. Whitaker taught us in the ninth grade.” She smiled at the man, who looked surprised. “He taught us to write our goals down and to read them often; daily is the best. I started doing that then and I kept on through my years here. Having straight A’s was one of my goals. I got one B, so even though I missed my goal, I never gave up. Being senior class president was another one of my written goals. So you see, it does work. Mr. Whitaker, thank you for teaching me this skill. Thank you, everyone, for all our years together.” She stepped back and turned to leave, the applause rolling over her.

  Thank you, God, that that is over with. I didn’t cry or tear up. Another goal met.

  José stepped aside for her to come down the three steps.

  “You were wonderful,” he said with a smile.

  “Thanks.” Back in her row, she sank down in her chair, sure that her knees wouldn’t hold her any longer. The kids around her gave her high-fives and thumbs-up signs, nodding and whispering their approval.

  Lindsey grabbed her hand. “I’m so proud of you I could scream.”

  “Not now, please.”

  “You are something else.”

  Kirsten turned her attention to José, stepping up to the microphone after he was introduced as valedictorian.

  “Thank you, Mr. Turnkey and all of you gathered here.”

  Kirsten couldn’t look at him because she knew she would cry. As he continued to talk about setting goals and making them happen, she studied her cuticles, her manicure, anything but looking up at him. She figured he was not looking at her for the same reason. When he said, “Thank you,” she looked up and nodded. His smile widened and he received the same response from the class as she had.

  When the superintendent and the principal moved the table with the stacks of diplomas to the front of the stage, the first row of students stood and filed toward the steps to the side of the stage.

  When the superintendent called her name, she walked across the stage, shook Mr. Turnkey’s hand, took her diploma with the other, and paused for the photographer before flipping her tassel to the other side. She smiled and hugged the faux-leather diploma to her. She was now on to the next part of her life. Whatever that would be.

  When the principal said they were dismissed and the band broke into a jazzy tune, the graduates threw their mortarboards up in the air and cheered. The level of noise rose as everyone talked and laughed. José made his way through all the well-wishers until he stood beside her. They hugged without a word, but looking at him, she knew he was as close to tears as she was.

  She swallowed. “You did great.”

  “So did you. I was so proud of you I wanted to stand on my chair and applaud.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” An almost smile touched the corners of her mouth. “We did it.”

  “We did. We will.”

  Kirsten clamped her teeth. Don’t say any more. Order or plea, she turned into her aunt’s arms.

  “You were magnificent,” Keira said, hugging her niece. “I knew you were a good speaker but that was wonderful. You and José stole the show.” She gave José a hug too. “See you out at the house.”

  “Thanks.” I’m just glad it’s over.

  After all the pictures were taken, the senior class returned to the theater to leave their robes with Mrs. Latimar, who was folding them to pack in the boxes to return to the rental store.

  “Thank you, Kirsten. You gave a wonderful presentation.”

  “Thanks to you and all your coaching.” Kirsten had been on the debate team all through high school with Mrs. Latimar as the debate coach and drama teacher.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing where you go with your life. With your talent and will to work, you’ll be able to accomplish anything you set out to do.”

  Kirsten blinked and rolled her lips together. If she only knew. But she would know, the whole world would know. Maybe there was only one way out.

  “I’ll take you home,” José said as he handed in his robe.

  Fighting tears, Kirsten turned away. “Okay.”

  “See you in a while,” Lindsey said. “Mom wants some pictures at home and then we’ll be over.”

  The Sorensons had invited the families of Kirsten’s closest friends for the buffet and then planned on an open house later in the afternoon. Now if only she and José could get there without getting into an argument. The only way to do that would be to declare the topic of the pregnancy off limits. No discussion. Nothing. Tightening up her resolve, she picked up her purse and in a flurry of hugs and promises to see them later, headed out the door with José. Once in the car she collapsed against the back of the seat. If only she could just go home, crawl into bed, and pretend the world did not exist.

  “You were so beautiful up there.” José turned to smile at her as he put the key in the ignition.

  Kirsten sucked in a deep breath. She had to carry on, that’s all there was to it. If she’d ever ordered herself to do something, now was the time. First: breathe. Second: put a smile on your face even if it feels like a mask. Third: you will be polite no matter what—and to everyone, including José. “Thank you. You couldn’t tell the butterflies were about to carry me off?”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  She turned to catch him watching her. Think, say something. Come on, brain. “Is your grandmother coming to the party?”

  “Yes, she’s riding over there with the Morgans.” He pulled into the line of slow-moving cars as they took turns stopping at the stop sign. “You know we have to talk.”

  “Yes, but not today. Today is for celebrating our graduation.” She knew she sounded formal, not like herself, but who was she now anyway? What would become of all her dreams? Their dreams?

  Chapter Twelve

  Leah walked through the house, making sure all was ready. The decorations looked lovely, the food smelled delicious, and the buffet table was ready for them to put out the food. She and Marcus had left the gymnasium as soon as they properly could, and he was splitting another bag of ice between the coolers, which were filled with soft drinks. The coffee was perking in the tall coffeemakers that she’d borrowed from the church.

  Kirsten had been magnificent. She wished she could have seen her daughter’s face when her father gave the invocation. His prayer was perfect too. The whole ceremony had gone so well, no shenanigans like there had been in years past. She heard someone at the back door.

  Keira called, “Where do you want these pies?”

  “I have a dessert table set up in here so we can set them out.” Leah went to help, as both Bjorn and Keira carried in flat boxes filled with pies. “They look beautiful.”

  Keira set her box down. “Everything does. You’ve done yourself proud, my friend.”

  “With a little help from my friends.”

  “So is the truck all packed?” Marcus asked as he entered the room.

  “Yes, and Betty’s SUV is too. I told the others to be there at three. Debated whether to wait until morning to leave, but since we can trade off the driving, we should be good.”

  “I printed out directions for you, down I-35, right through Kansas City. Pastor John is so grateful for every little thing anyone can do.”

  “In all the turmoil I forgot to mention an idea I had.” Leah paused for their attention. “You are coming back empty and we have an empty house that could be a haven for a family. Keira and I talked about it, but the graduation preparations took precedence. You think that could be a possibility?”

  “So are you saying we should bring back
refugees?” Marcus stared from his wife to his sister.

  “Leah, I didn’t agree. I said let’s think about it. This isn’t fair.” Keira stammered in her shock.

  “Well, we could at least put out the offer,” Leah answered.

  The two men exchanged looks and then stared at their wives. Marcus shrugged and nodded at the same time. “I’ll ask John and make the offer. That way our congregation could help them get back on their feet. When they go home, we could send furniture and housewares with them.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m being railroaded here. We need to talk this over more.”

  The front doorbell chimed and Marcus headed for the door to invite their guests in.

  Leah gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. Sure, we’ll talk later. We don’t have to make a decision today, but I think Mother would be happy someone might be using her house and if it’s someone in trouble, so much the better.” She started to pat Keira’s arm but Keira stepped back, her frown still firmly in place. By the glare in her eyes, Leah realized she’d made a bigger mistake than she thought. Why would this bother Keira so much? She was usually the first one to offer assistance of any kind. “Keira, I really am sorry.”

  Keira nodded but her jaw stayed firm.

  “Besides, we’d have to find bedding and get it all ready.” Leah shook her head. “You’re right, there is no time to do that now.” She stepped forward again. “Keira, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, greet your company. We’ll talk later.”

  Leah turned to answer a question and the party swung into high gear.

  Someone else took over answering the door as groups of guests congregated in each room. Some of the women gravitated to the kitchen, asking if there was anything they could do. So Leah put them to work setting the food on the buffet table.

  She turned to see Betty Flores, José’s grandmother, smiling at her. With her dark hair shot with silver and her snapping brown eyes, she radiated warmth. “Oh, Betty, I’m so glad you’re here.” The two hugged, stepped back, and then gave another hug for good measure.