“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Cole Blackwell.”
“Oh, God. What have we started?”
“He wanted to be sure I was going to the reunion. Get this: he hasn’t remarried.”
“Kristen, this is so high school. We’re doing this for Mrs. Childs, you know, not so we can reconnect with our high school boyfriends.”
“I know. I know. But he called. So we talked.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m in the back room of a fancy East Side restaurant at a boring dinner, with one of Alan’s wealthy clients. Anyway, Cole said he was looking forward to seeing all of us Christmas girls together again, although he called us The Christmas Women.”
“When can you come?” Trudie asked.
“I’m thinking I’ll come… this weekend?”
Trudie stiffened with interest. “Really? This is December... the first week in December, Kristen.”
“I know. Don’t you want me?”
“Of course I want you to come. I’m just surprised.”
“I want to see Mrs. Childs, and I want to get started on this. I called her the other day and we had a great talk. She said I was her favorite, of course.”
“She’s up to that again,” Trudie said. “She said I was her favorite when I saw her.”
“I’m excited, Trudie. I haven’t been this excited in years. I’m sure you can use my help down there.”
“Definitely. Can you come back in two weeks?”
“Of course. I’m a partner, Trudie, and I haven’t taken any time off since last summer. The courts are going to slow down anyway before Christmas, and I can do my paperwork down there.”
“Have you told your husband?”
“Not yet, but he’s got to be away too, in Chicago. Alexander’s in school until the 18th. So it’s all good.”
“Then come on down.”
“Cole asked about you, Trudie.”
Trudie closed her eyes. She suddenly flashed to the past, to that spring night when Cole called to cancel their date. “I just don’t feel so good,” he’d said. “It’s my stomach... I guess I ate something bad. We’ve got a big game coming up and I’d better get some sleep.”
Days later, after Trudie told Mary Ann about their cancelled date, Mary Ann hesitated, then finally confessed that she’d seen Cole and Kristen driving away from the A&W that night, Kristen’s arm around Cole’s neck. Mary Ann hadn’t been sure what to do, but finally couldn’t stand to see Trudie so naïve.
“Move on, Trudie. You can do a whole lot better than Cole Blackwell,” she’d added.
Trudie was jarred back to reality when Kristen said, “Trudie, are you there?”
Trudie’s eyes popped open. “Yes... I’m here.”
“Cole’s a shit, but he always did turn me on, especially in his basketball outfit. He owns a medical equipment business. Makes a fortune, or so he says.”
Trudie slid down deeper into the water, silent.
Kristen’s voice grew softer. “I know you really liked him too, Trudie, and I still feel terrible about what I did. But I was 17…”
“I don’t care, Kristen. It was 20 years ago, for God’s sake, and I just don’t care. Let’s just stay focused on the show and Mrs. Childs.”
“You sound angry.”
“I’m not.” She lifted her free hand and then let it drop. It slapped the water and splashed her face. She wiped it. “I don’t care. So text me the flight info and I’ll pick you up in Columbus, okay?”
“Okay, sister friend. Can’t wait to see you.”
Later that night, while seated in a recliner near the shimmering fire, Trudie called Julie to check up on Mrs. Childs.
“Mom had a really restless night,” Julie confided. “And she’s getting very depressed at the prospect of starting another round of chemotherapy.”
Julie explained that Kristen was coming to town and asked if they could come by over the weekend. Julie was enthusiastic.
“Yes, of course. Mom loves company, especially her old students. Teaching was her passion, as you know. It always makes her feel better. Yes, come.”
After she hung up, Trudie surfed the TV, but found nothing of interest. She picked up a novel, read two pages and laid it aside. She thumbed through old text messages and tossed her phone down. She sat staring into the gleaming fireplace, hearing it crackle and hiss. She folded her arms tightly to her chest, feeling sick and tired of being alone. Of living alone. Of thinking alone. Of making every damned decision about the house alone. It seemed to her that everyone she knew had somebody. Loved somebody. Had children or had had children and families. Once again she’d spent Thanksgiving with her grandparents and their friends, the only person under 75. What the hell was the matter with her? Why didn’t she ever find the right guy and get married?
She felt a surge of anger. Anger at Kristen. She had a good husband and a smart, handsome son, and she had the nerve to call and tell her that Cole Blackwell always turned her on. She was 38 years old, for God’s sake! She sounded like she was 18 again! Didn’t she know what she had? Couldn’t she be grateful for all that she had: a successful career and loving family!?
Trudie pushed up, went into the kitchen and searched the cabinet corner, where she always hid chocolate bars. Why the hell was she hiding them? From whom? Nobody cared. Nobody gave a damn whether she ate the chocolate or she didn’t eat the chocolate. She peeled back the wrapper from the extra dark chocolate bar and broke off a piece. Why did she struggle to lose those 15 pounds? No one noticed. Her boss, Dr. Preston, didn’t even notice or, if he did, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t he notice? Granted he’d been married for 25 years and had a happy marriage and didn’t flirt with other women, but she’d worked for him for 16 years. Couldn’t he have at least noticed? Couldn’t he have said, “Well, Trudie, look at you. You’re looking quite thin these days?” Or “Trudie, have you lost a little weight? You look great!”
And why did Don leave so abruptly back at Rusty’s? Was he so insulted just because she got a phone call from some other guy? What was that all about?
Trudie broke off another piece of the chocolate and shoved it into her mouth. She let it melt on her tongue, as her mind grew more agitated, as if storm clouds were rolling in and she wanted to rain out all her dark emotions, bad thoughts and ancient resentments.
And now Kristen was coming. Did she really want to listen to Kristen blabbering on about Cole and her husband, and probably some other guy or guys she’s been flirting with in New York?
Trudie broke off another piece of chocolate. She looked at it, shaking her head, and then plopped it into her mouth, thinking back on past dates: one with Peter Hills, an internist in town. He was kind, quiet spoken and respectful. He was 43 and had never been married. They dated four or five times before he kissed her. She felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He must have felt the same, because he never called again. They’d see each other in town, occasionally, and they’d smile and wave, as if they hardly knew each other. He had once made the comment that she was “Quite attractive.”
And then there was Tom Klein, an attorney. He was nice, but not particularly attractive. Their relationship went nowhere.
Carl Stenowski was a car mechanic. He was muscular, fun and smart. She liked him, but he was seeing another woman, who soon snatched him away from Trudie and married him within two months. Now they had two kids and seemed relatively happy. Trudie still saw him now and then, although she avoided taking her car to him. They still had a little spark for each other and she didn’t want to pursue it. She might get hurt.
Trudie marched into the den and, once again, pulled down her senior class yearbook. She held it for a time, but didn’t open it. What did she hope to see or feel or find? Twenty damned years had passed and she was alone in the same town, doing the same job, while her friends were off having successful careers, adventures and families.
Trudie had been to Florida, St. Thomas, Austen, Texas and Cancun, twice, with Harriett Turner, th
e woman who cut her hair. On the trip to Austen, a big boisterous car dealership owner told Trudie she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Then he told her he’d been married five times.
Trudie replaced the yearbook and slumped down in the leather desk chair. Her father’s desk chair. She swiveled about, wondering why she’d lived the life she’d lived. How could she have changed it? Lived differently? Been more aggressive? Maybe she should have grabbed Carl Stenowski and forced him into marrying her, like that other broad had done. But she didn’t. She just wasn’t the type.
Her phone rang. She hurried into the living room to answer it.
“Hey, Trudie. It’s Mary Ann. I was just thinking about you and remembering how much I’ve missed you.”
Trudie was startled by tears forming in the sides of her eyes. “Oh, God, Mary Ann, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
“You okay? You sound funny.”
“No, no, I’m fine. I’m just moping around feeling sorry for myself. Nothing serious. This whole reunion thing is starting to make me crazy. It’s bringing up so much stuff.”
“Well, ever since we talked the other day, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to see you.” Mary Ann’s soothing voice instantly relaxed Trudie, just as it always had.
“Ditto that, girl. It’s been way too long.”
“Guess who I got an email from?”
Trudie eased down into the recliner. “Oh God, don’t tell me. Oscar?”
“Yep. The one and only Oscar. He said he got my email address from Ray.”
“And he wants to know if you’re going to the reunion?” Trudie asked.
“He never remarried.”
“I didn’t know he was divorced.”
“Not divorced, Trudie. His wife died.”
“Oh God, really? Wasn’t she young? What did she die of?”
“Leukemia. Oscar said she’d been exposed to high levels of radiation doing her lab research.”
“How did he sound?”
“Okay. It happened two years ago. She was older than Oscar. She was 44.”
“So he’s coming?” Trudie asked, pulling up her legs and tucking them under herself.
“He said he’d like to see me. He said it would be fun to work on the Christmas show again.”
“Mrs. Childs will be so happy to see everyone.”
“I called her,” Mary Ann said. “We had a great talk. Of course she told me I was her favorite.”
Trudie laughed. “Of course.”
There was a pause. “It will be so good to see you again, Mary Ann. Kristen’s coming this weekend. Any chance you could come?”
“I don’t have the money, and the girls are still in school. But I’ll be there in two weeks. Nothing can stop me.”
“God help us,” Trudie said. “Jon Ketch will be here.”
“Crazy, wonderful Jon. The big Hollywood star. I was so in love with him.”
“Weren’t we all?”
Later that night, as Trudie lay in bed drifting off to sleep, she wondered if Jon Ketch would still find her attractive. It was a silly thought, really, but he had written something to remember in her yearbook.
I have been in love with you since we were in the 7th Grade. Hey, I can say that, now that we’re graduating and I’m going off to college. Remember me sometimes, when I’m famous. And yes, I was always jealous of Cole! Why the hell didn’t you love me?
Trudie’s last thought before she fell asleep was, “I did love you.”
EIGHT
Late Friday afternoon, pulling her black leather carry-on, Kristen exited the airway tunnel and strode purposefully into the terminal, searching for Trudie. She was dressed in designer jeans and a burgundy sweater over a white blouse. With her chic ponytail, sultry lips and starlet figure, she drew men’s eyes and women’s curiosity.
Trudie spotted her. Was it possible, she thought? Was it possible that Kristen Anderson Lloyd was even sexier and more attractive than the last time she’d seen her? Much more attractive at 38 than she had been at 18 or 28!?
Kristen saw Trudie in the crowd and she lit up, waving. They closed the distance between them, falling into an embrace. They held each other at shoulder’s distance, their faces animated and bright, and then they hugged again.
“You look so svelte, girl!” Kristen said, looking Trudie over. “Wow, skinny girl!”
Trudie was so grateful that somebody finally noticed her weight loss that she grabbed Kristen and hugged her again. “And you look fantastic, Kristen! Hollywood gorgeous!”
“Yoga, yoga, yoga and swimming twice a week!”
They started off arm in arm toward the exit.
They left the expressway near Deer Lake and traveled along a dark asphalt highway bisecting a white winter plain. The sun was already beginning its descent over bare trees against a bleak winter sky, where a V formation of geese was lazily beating south.
Since leaving the airport, the girls had caught up on families, old friends and Deer Lake’s many changes.
“When can we see Mrs. Childs?” Kristen finally asked.
“I thought we’d go tomorrow. She’s strongest in the morning, according to her daughter.”
“I bought her some earrings from Tiffany’s,” Kristen said. “I hope she doesn’t think I’m trying to impress her. They weren’t that expensive and they reminded me of her. They’re sterling silver Greek drama masks.”
“She’ll love them.”
Trudie turned off the highway onto a side road. As the horizon became rosy, the view over white sloping fields to a distant forest was sublimely beautiful.
“And I brought you something.” Kristen said, reaching into her purse and drawing out a beautifully wrapped box.
“You always were too generous. I’ve just started Christmas shopping.”
“It’s nothing really. But you have to open it right away.”
“I’m tearing into it as soon as we get to the house.”
Trudie turned into the driveway, stopping at the garage entrance.
“Do you have a tree yet?” Kristen asked.
“Not yet.”
“Good. Tonight let’s get a tree and decorate it.”
“Great idea. I’ll bake some more Christmas cookies.”
Kristen clapped, enthusiastically. “I love your Christmas cookies. I’ll buy the champagne. But first, after I unpack, I’m taking you to dinner.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. You’re putting me up for the weekend. Let’s go to the most expensive restaurant in Deer Lake.”
Trudie gave her a doubtful, sideways glance. “That won’t be hard.”
An hour later, they were sitting in a booth at the Olive Garden, near the new mall that Kristen had never seen but had eyed lustily as they drove by. “We have to go shopping tomorrow,” Kristen said.
Trudie ordered the Grilled Chicken Toscana and Kristen the Parmesan Crusted Tilapia. They took in the Christmas tree, the poinsettias and the soft muted lighting, as they sipped red wine. Trudie untied the ribbon on her Christmas present from Kristen. She lifted the lid from the Tiffany blue box and found a little flannel bag. She released the draw strings and shook out a dazzling, 3-inch snowflake ornament. Trudie stared in wonder, as she held it up to the light. It turned and sparkled.
“This is stunning, Kristen. Sterling silver?”
“It’s no big thing. I got a deal on it. See why I want us to get the tree tonight?”
“This will be the first ornament I hang on it. Thank you, Kristen. It really is beautiful.”
Kristen took her friend’s hand, looking at her earnestly. “I’m so glad to be here, Trudie. It just feels so good and right to be together again. I can’t wait to see Mary Ann and talk and laugh the way we used to. I want us to have the best Christmas ever. I want us to sing and dance and go ice skating like we used to. I want to make up for all the time that has passed. I want Mrs. Childs to recover. I want to see her barking out orders again, laughing and bossi
ng us around. On the plane coming down here, I thought, why haven’t we all three stayed in touch? Why did it take Mrs. Childs getting sick before we all came together again?”
Trudie turned serious. “I hope she doesn’t get worse before the performance. The other day, she looked awfully frail.”
Kristen patted her hand. “She’ll be fine. When she sees the three of us together again, she’ll feel better and get stronger. I know it.”
Just as the waiter deposited their dinners, Trudie looked up and saw Don enter the restaurant with another man—an older man. Trudie’s eyes widened with surprise. Kristen noticed.
“What’s the matter?”
Trudie blinked away her nerves, snatching up her fork. “Nothing... I just saw somebody I know.”
Kristen looked about. “Who?”
“Nobody.”
“Trudie, you said it was somebody you know.”
To Trudie’s dismay, the hostess led the two men toward their booth. Trudie cut into her chicken and took a bite, her eyes focused on her plate. Then she heard Don’s deep voice.
“Trudie!”
Trudie glanced up, faking surprise, chewing. She grinned and nodded, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, hello.”
Don was dressed in a dark suit and powder blue shirt. His masculine presence drew Kristen to attention. Her interested eyes darted across Don’s handsome face.
“We’re always meeting in restaurants,” Don said.
Trudie swallowed. “Yes. I guess we’re always hungry,” was all she could manage, and as soon as it left her mouth, she wanted it back.
Don laughed. “Yeah. Oh, excuse me,” Don said, turning toward his companion. “Trudie this is Zack Prior. Zack, Trudie Parks.”
Kristen flashed a sexy smile, as she lifted a feminine hand with perfectly manicured red nails. “I’m Kristen.”
Don smiled down at her and took her hand. “Don,” he said, studying her.
Trudie felt a sharp rise of jealousy.
Trudie shook Zack’s hand. He was in his 50’s, with iron gray hair and steady blue eyes. She saw lusty interest in those eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Trudie,” he said.
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