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Easy Reunion

Page 29

by Jerald, Tracey


  “I will be forever grateful to my grandparents for giving me the opportunities to fulfill my dreams. They did this by sending me to the best academic institution in the state of Georgia.” A loud cheer goes up from the audience, students, parents, and faculty alike. “To fulfill my dreams, I endured hell every single day in these hallowed halls.” A deathly silence again descends over the crowd. “I was shoved up against walls by the boys. The girls would call me names or make fun of me in class because I weighed more than they did. I didn’t have friends—after all, who would be willing to risk the wrath of the most popular cliques in school? I had no means with which to stand up for myself.

  “I debated ending it all,” I admit brutally. With a shaking hand, I reach for a glass of water to my left and take a sip before continuing. “And one thing stopped me: the agony my grandparents would endure if that happened. So, instead of joining clubs or participating in sports, I buried myself in books where I could pretend to be anyone or do anything. In the world I lived in, I was the most popular girl in school, the prettiest, the most adored. In reality, day-to-day life found me exceptionally insecure. I dreamed of becoming the person everyone said I should have been, not the person I really was.”

  Taking a deep breath, I look down at the audience. There’s a sea of royal blue. That was part of my request: I’d waive my standard speaking fees if the students were permitted to decorate their mortarboards in blue, breaking the century-long tradition of no enhancements to the black-and-white attire at graduation. This way, I could look out across the sea of blue and garner my strength for the speech on anti-bullying I was delivering to the students who would go out to shape the future.

  “Standing where I am now, it must be hard to imagine all of this. Forsyth has such a strong stance against anti-bullying. In part, it’s because of what happened to so many of us all of those years ago.” With a quick glance to the side, I see my Ry nod slowly before mouthing, “I love you.” He’s holding our baby daughter in his arms. Just seeing them there settles the butterflies swirling inside of my stomach.

  About a year after we got back to New Orleans from Ry’s trip to help young Logan, and after Ry spent time working with a counselor Morgan recommended, he proposed with his grandmother’s ring. “Here’s to knowing that with you by my side, I’ll win every single day,” Ry whispered right before he slid the antique diamond on my finger.

  We were lying in the backyard at our house looking up at the stars through the leaf-covered branches of the summer trees when he asked. I sobbed out, “Yes.”

  Our wedding we held at Commander’s Palace six months later was everything I dreamed of as Pop-pop walked me under the overhang of the beautiful tree in the courtyard into Ry’s waiting arms. Dancing under the twinkling lights in my husband’s arms well into the party, he whispered in my ear something that cemented the night as perfect. “Is it just me, or is Logan hitting on Max? Aren’t they a bit young?”

  Tipping my head back, I pressed my lips against his lightly before whispering, “How old were we?”

  “Point taken,” he said, before he took control of our kiss. Our guests got into the spirit of it by clinking cutlery against their glasses with enthusiasm.

  “I was eating to mask the agony of my parents’ death. I ate to control the pain of what was happening at school. I was eating to camouflage the pain I couldn’t work out on my own but didn’t know how to reach out for help. The bullying got infinitely worse. Had I asked for it? Did God think this was what I deserved? Somewhere in my subconscious, I was pulled back from life. I was filling in the gaps of my life with food, wedged in every cheek and jowl.

  “But there was one light. I followed it and hoped, prayed, that maybe God was listening to my heartbreak after all. Maybe he was sending me a response.

  “I was wrong.” A huge gasp arises from the crowd. My eyes dart to the side. Ry is wiping the tears falling down his face. A serene smile that’s meant for him alone lightens my face. “Then.”

  Facing the crowd, I plow on. “I ran from this stage after being subjected to brutality. I was devastated in ways I know some of you understand. Right here.” I lay my fist across my heart. “What I didn’t understand at the time is that bullying isn’t limited to one person. It isn’t limited to a person because of what they look like, where they live, or even who their friends are. The light I mentioned a few moments ago? He was bullied himself. And he was forced into doing something harmful to me to protect someone he loves.

  “Even though it devastated me then, it set me on a path of necessary healing. We both would give so much to have found the love we now share without that in our past. But trust me, I don’t think it’s possible to love my husband more for standing up for his family. Then and now.” I turn to face him, and even though he’s holding precious cargo in the other, Ry and I are both swiping the tears off our faces. I take another drink of water before facing forward and continuing.

  “I left for college scarred. But when I was at Pepperdine, I was finally granted an angel—my roommate, Angelina. It wasn’t long after that my grandfather and my grandmother decided to move away from their home so they could see me. They, too, were victims of the bullies that brutalized my life.” Fiercely, I bite out, “Don’t let bullies rob you of life’s precious moments. I could have argued with them and been strong enough to have flown back over breaks, but I wasn’t. I left the day after graduation and swore I never was coming back. They believed me, and because they loved me, they made it so I could still have a home.” I wipe my eyes, the next part the hardest for me to admit.

  “My senior year of college, Angelina—who was a nutritional science major—found me a job working for a wildly famous bariatric surgeon. Let me state, this was not what I wanted to be doing in my life.” There’s a titter through the crowd. “I mean, you’re all going to be getting jobs eventually. When it comes time to call a doctor’s office to schedule an appointment, please—for all that’s good in the world—be kind to the person on the other end of the phone. And while you’re at it, most customer service people have it pretty tough. Cut them some slack,” I add jokingly.

  The room laughs like I was hoping they would. Because what I’m about to say is about to get very real.

  “I worked in a job I never dreamed to be doing for two years because I wanted to stop being bullied.” The room goes eerily silent. “I worked for Dr. Toli so I could save up enough money after insurance coverage to have gastric bypass surgery. I slaved away during the day, being abused by callers who assumed I must be fat to work there, only to go home and write like a demon every night. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  “I had to weigh in before surgery. I weighed almost a half of a ton at 458 pounds. I was a size 6X. I could not walk from one side of a room to another without feeling as if I was going to collapse. Yet, I remember proudly stripping naked and climbing onto an operating table so a surgical team of doctors could work on me for nine hours to hopefully give me life.

  “I remember asking the anesthesiologist to make me beautiful right before the mask was lowered onto my face. And do you know what he said? I already was.” Closing the folio in front of me, I work solely off the prompter.

  “You all already are.” One girl, whose hair is a gorgeous shade of blonde, is shaking her head back and forth. I grab the mic and walk down the steps on the side of the stage. “Yes, you. All of you. Do you realize you are the next generation of honesty, trust, faith, and loyalty that Forsyth has been trying to instruct over the last four years?” People start twisting as I walk around the graduating class of 2025. “You have all the tools right now you’ll need to make the changes in the world that are the most important.” Facing toward the stage, I say huskily, “You have the heart.” I begin to make my way back onto the stage.

  As I pass by Ry on my way up the steps, his hand reaches out to snag mine. I grip it tightly even though the connection is brief. A million words and a thousand heartbeats pass through us in that single touch. Quickly
climbing up the stairs, I start speaking into the mic before I even put my foot down on the stage. “Matthew 7 says, ‘Ask, and it shall be given you; Seek, and ye shall find; Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’ I didn’t ask for help and almost lost everything. Instead of opening up my heart, instead of trusting my grandparents, my teachers, maybe someone who genuinely wanted to be a friend, I almost ruined everything, If you get nothing out of what I say today, find your person who you trust with everything so they can listen to you with an open heart.” I give the nod to the AV guys just off to the left. “I’d like everyone to listen to this song. It says more than my words can. The lyrics are printed in the back of today’s graduation booklet with permission by the artist.”

  “Grey Street” by the Dave Matthews Band begins to play. Turning off the microphone, I slide it back into place.

  Thinking back to our reunion in Savannah, I feel like everything in my life was gray before Ry walked back into my life. There was no color. And I’m so glad I was tired of it.

  Ry and I spent a month on Skidaway Island at his parents’ home after I flew in. Despite his gratitude I was there at all, it was still crucial for him to know we were in this together. Our hurts, our pain, our past, and our future were all determined by two people, him and me. He needed to know I was strong enough to be able to help carry his burdens the way he helped take mine. I will never forget for the rest of my life when he framed my face with his hands, leaned down, and told me our pasts weren’t going to be given a chance to ruin our future. Not anymore. While what happened mattered, it wasn’t going to define us. It wasn’t going to break us. Nothing was.

  Thank you, God, for the miracle of insight you sent us both.

  The song winds down. The nerves start to make my stomach churn. “Before I wrap up, I’d like you all to take a stand with me against bullying. Right here, right now. It’s okay if you can’t; I understand. But know I’m standing right with you, and there is support from me, from your now former administration, if you need it. Students, parents, administrators, family, and friends, if you are or have ever been a victim of bullying, I’d like for you to stand. I want this cycle to end here. Now. Let’s go forward today with the promise we will be kind. We will stand up for those who need us. We will be the leaders of the future.” I step out behind the podium in a black graduation gown with the blue shoes I bought so long ago at Head Over Heels.

  I knew they were perfect for me the moment I saw them.

  Behind me, I hear the slap of chairs hitting their seats as members of the administration start to stand. Including, to my surprise, President Adams. Then the sound is like the popping of balloons. Chairs from sections all around the outdoor amphitheater start slamming as people stand.

  More than half of the people are standing. My hand flies to my mouth as a sob erupts. “I am here for all of you,” I cry passionately into the microphone. “Do not believe ever again you are alone! Do not think you don’t deserve life, happiness, love—in whatever form that comes in.

  “My name is Kee Long. I was bullied. I’m still standing, and I will continue to stand with you. Now, promise me this. Here. Today. In ten years, I want to be invited back to your reunion. I want you to share your stories with me because I know reunions aren’t easy.” I flash a huge smile at Ry. “But, boy, do they have their rewards.

  “I’d like to leave you with a quote by Maya Angelou. ‘I can be changed by what happens to me, but I cannot be defined by it.’ Life will test your faith. You may feel like it’s going to let you go, but trust me, it won’t. Somewhere along the way, there will be people who will catch you when you stumble. They’ll love you just for being who you are. Nothing more; nothing less.” My hand reaches up to frame my neck. “Just keep your hearts open and find the courage to go on. Thank you.”

  Turning off the microphone, I’m almost knocked off my feet with the overwhelming applause I receive. Lips parted, I turn slightly to find Ry cupping his hands over Hope’s head, trying to muffle noise against her delicate ears. The love and pride on his face are like a gravitational pull. But before I can take the first step in his direction, President Adams is at my side. “I have never been more honored to call someone a graduate of Forsyth Academy than I am right now, Kelsey,” he murmurs.

  My throat feels tight, but I still manage to answer. “If I managed to get through to even one of them, it was worth it.”

  “I think you did more than that. Look,” he encourages me.

  And I do.

  The blonde-haired girl has lifted her head. She has a scar on her face that she’d likely been ridiculed for. A group of teens are surrounding her, urgently saying something. She turns her head to hide that side of her face until a tall, dark-haired boy walks up behind her and lays his hand on her shoulder. Frozen, we both watch as he tucks her hair behind her ear. Glaring at the others, he leads her away.

  So, it won’t be perfect in a day. I mentally shrug. Miracles are just that, and they’re reserved for the right moment at the right time. But at least I got them talking, I think, proud of myself.

  And maybe by the time Hope’s in school, we’ll have a chance for a better future.

  For all of us.

  In the meanwhile, I wonder what Ry’s going to think later about the fact I arranged for our family to watch Hope for us tonight. Since we’ll be celebrating the speech at the Perrault family compound with Angel, Darin, and Lucy, Cade and Lisa, Nana and Pop-pop, and Pierre and Roberta, there are plenty of volunteers willing to look out for our little girl. I already have a reservation at the Westin where our personal reconciliation occurred. With a sidelong glance in my husband’s direction, I catch the way his eyes rake over me before they meet mine.

  Then again, he may already know.

  I strongly suspect tonight’s reunion will go a lot easier than the last one did.

  THE END

  The Boudreaux Universe

  To learn more about The Boudreaux Universe, click here:

  https://www.ladybosspress.com//boudreaux

  About the Author

  Tracey Jerald knew she was meant to be a writer when she would re-write the ending of books in her head when she was a young girl growing up in southern Connecticut. It wasn’t long before she was typing alternate endings and extended epilogues “just for fun”.

  After college in Florida, where she obtained a degree in Criminal Justice, Tracey traded the world of law and order for IT. Her work for a world-wide internet startup transferred her to Northern Virginia where she met her husband in what many call their own happily ever after. They have one son.

  When she’s not busy with her family or writing, Tracey can be found in her home in north Florida drinking coffee, reading, training for a runDisney event, or feeding her addiction to HGTV.

  Also By Tracey Jerald

  Standalones

  Close Match

  Ripple Effect

  The Amaryllis Series

  Free to Dream

  Free to Run

  Free to Rejoice

  Free to Breathe

  Free to Believe

  Free to Live

  Coming Soon

  Return By Air - June 2020

  Lady Boss Press Releases

  Easy Reunion

  Also coming soon, keep a close eye on the Lady Boss Press site! Tracey is honored to be writing as part of the Kristen Proby’s Fusion universe!

  Title and release date to be announced very soon!

  Acknowledgments

  To my parents for doing everything they could to not only protect me but their steadfast love and support as I made decisions that weren’t easy to witness, I love you. Dad, I hope I told you that enough while you were still with us. Mom, I hope I show you that every day.

  To Jen, for being my rock, my safe place, my home. From the day we met on a bus to now, you are the sister I always prayed for. When you asked me to give that talk, I didn’t realize the emotional impact it would have then or now.

  M.R., there is n
o way I can express the amount of gratitude I have for you. It would have been so much worse without you in my corner.

  To my husband, slowly but surely, you chipped away at the fortress I built. You reached the core of me and showed me beauty. I hope and pray I do the same for you. You are everything to me.

  To my son, know I will fight for you with the strength of a million empires to protect you. I love you.

  To my Meows, a friendship like ours is a treasured rarity. I love you all so much.

  To Kristen Proby, thank you for giving me this incredible opportunity and allowing me into your world. You are an amazing inspiration every single day, lady. Love you, hard.

  To the team at Lady Boss Press, thank you for your tireless efforts to make all of the authors shine! XOXO

  To Sandra Depukat from One Love Editing, I just can’t stop making you hungry, can I? Thank you for the honesty and the love. I’ll send you beignets soon.

  To Holly Malgeri. My twin, thank you for understanding how critical this journey was for me. I love you from the bottom of my heart.

  Amy Queau, thank you for understanding my a-ha moment at the last minute! MUAH, my friend!

  To Gel, at Tempting Illustrations, absolute beauty. Always!

  To the amazing team at Foreword PR, you’re crazy amazing! I love all of you. You do everything to make my days easy.

  Linda Russell, you are one of the most spectacular individuals in my universe. I love you more than Starbucks.

 

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