Reunion with Death

Meredith Gardner and her classmates are preparing for their 15th high school class reunion. As usual, things go astray quickly. Here’s an excerpt from chapter one with a conversation between Meredith and Colleen.

. . . “When we started putting together this reunion party nine months ago, I really thought it might be a lost cause.  So many people have moved away and lost touch. But now…”

“I know what you mean.  We’ve had our hands full just trying to find current phone numbers and email addresses to contact all our classmates.  Thank goodness for Facebook or we wouldn’t have found half of these people. Do you think every class has this problem?” asked Colleen.

I stretched my arms above my head then dropped my hands to run my fingers through my tousled frosted blond hair, fluffed the short curls and lifted them off the back of my neck.  My shoulders and arms ached from carrying boxes and hanging decorations.  I glanced about the room and began to pack up the extra streamers and balloons.

“Probably.  People are so transient these days. Wasn’t it nice of Gary to allow us to put up these decorations?  I thought the inn would be stricter about damage to the walls and stuff, but I guess he’s used to dealing with people and different kinds of party arrangements.  No doubt they’ve hosted other reunions or birthday parties in here, not just wedding receptions. Still, I think we’ve been careful not to stick tape on painted walls or make nail holes.”  I set a box down next to the side exit door and walked back toward Colleen just as her iphone beeped to announce an incoming message.

Colleen picked up her telephone and quickly read the text.  A frown creased her brow and she raised wide eyes to me.  “You’re not going to believe who just texted a confirmation for the reunion.”

“Okay, who?  I can tell by the expression on your face you weren’t expecting it.  So, who?” I asked.

“Bryan Kirkland just sent his R.S.V.P.  Are you going to be okay with this?” Colleen asked worriedly, a frown creasing her forehead.

Memories and images flashed across my mind propelling me back to teenage sock hops and lazy afternoon picnics with Bryan holding my hand on long walks through the woods.  I shook my head to banish my thoughts and raised my eyes to the concern showing in Colleen’s.

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Nancy M. Wade

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