“Everything OK?” she asked after I sighed for the millionth time, glancing over at me from the window she was washing.
“Fine.” I continued wiping down the counters.
She was quiet a minute, her cloth squeaking on the glass. “Sebastian is nice. He going with you to the reunion tonight?”
“No.”
“Why not? I thought you graduated the same year.”
“We did. He doesn’t want to go.” I finished with the counters and moved on to the oven, which I hadn’t even used that much because I really didn’t cook. Yet another adult skill I lacked.
“Oh. What about Dani and Kristen?”
“They couldn’t make it in. Dani’s due in like two weeks, and Kristen’s in-laws were visiting or something.”
“Are you going alone, then?”
“I guess.”
She stopped what she was doing and came over to the kitchen. “You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“I’m not.”
“So why go at all?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I won’t.”
“Skylar.”
I finally turned and looked at her.
“What’s with you?” Her brow furrowed. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
Exhaling, I leaned back against the oven. “I’m just trying to figure out some stuff and it’s stressing me out. I’m not much looking forward to the reunion because I’m embarrassed about being on Save a Horse and the whole dethroning thing, but I haven’t done anything else worth talking about.”
“You’ve done a lot of things!” She threw up one hand. “You’ve traveled, lived in New York City, been on television…how many people can say that?”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like much compared to what I said I was going to do.” I threw the rag onto the counter. “Or compared to what Nat and Jilly have done. I just feel like an asshole, OK? That’s what’s with me.”
“Skylar Elizabeth Nixon, you listen to me,” she said so forcefully I had to meet her eye. “I did not raise any assholes, and more importantly, I did not raise my girl to talk that way about herself. So you went to New York to chase a dream and it didn’t happen, so what. You know what I always say about failure.”
“It builds character,” I mumbled.
“That’s right. Failure builds character, and character is what you need right now. Character and confidence. This is no big thing! You think you’re the first small-town girl with stars in her eyes that got disillusioned with the reality of trying to make it in that world?”
“No,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Of course you don’t, because you’re not stupid. Now, your entire life everyone’s been telling you what a special snowflake you are—but the truth is, you’re just like the rest of us, honey. That means sometimes you’re gonna get what you want, sometimes you’re not. Sometimes you’re gonna get it only to find out it’s not what you thought it was gonna be. It’s all part of the journey. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said, even though part of me was like, What do you mean I’m not a special snowflake? Was your mother supposed to say this stuff to you?
“Good. You can walk into that reunion tonight and be proud of who you are, Skylar. You’re a beautiful girl with a great big heart and a lot of potential. Good Lord, if we all had the answers by age twenty-seven, life would be pretty boring, don’t you think?”
I curled my upper lip. “I hate boring.”
She laughed, coming around the counter to give me a hug. I let her, wrapping my arms around her plushy middle and taking comfort in her pie-crust-and-Windex scent. “You always have. Go have fun tonight. You can think about life’s opportunities tomorrow.”
• • •
The reunion was being held at The Corner Loft downtown. I got ready in my old bedroom, feeling a little like I was leaving for the Prom, only without a date. In the spirit of being more responsible, I’d decided to take back the outfit I’d purchased to wear to the reunion and wear something I already owned—a fitted LBD with cap sleeves that hit me about mid-thigh. It was a little more conservative than I usually dressed for parties, but I wasn’t feeling all that festive. For me it was all about the shoes anyway, and I wore black strappy Louboutin heels with a satin bow at the back.
I took an Uber downtown, arriving early as promised to help with decorations. The reunion committee was there already, placing centerpieces on tables, setting up a photo booth, and giving a photo montage a test run on a large screen against one wall.
Jennifer Krege, the committee head, greeted me warmly. We hadn’t been close friends, but I remembered her as an outgoing high-achiever. “You look beautiful,” she said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Thanks. You look beautiful too.” She was very pregnant, but looked adorable in her dress and flats, and I was jealous of the way she could wear an Audrey Hepburn updo. My ears made me look like a muppet when I tried it. “What can I do to help?”
She put me to work setting out votive candles, and when that was done, she asked me to help her move some tables to make room for dancing. Other committee members said hello, and while no one squealed with joy when they saw me, no one spit in my eye either. I began to think maybe the evening would be OK.
I relaxed even further after a couple glasses of wine, and even managed to have some fun reminiscing with former classmates about school plays, favorite teachers, choir trips, Homecoming parades and bonfires. Maybe I was a little bit careful whenever I talked to someone to keep the conversation focused on the past, but other people seemed more interested in reliving the old days rather than talking about their current, everyday lives too. Only a few asked about Save a Horse, and when I confessed that pretty much everything they saw was staged, they said (much to my relief) that’s what they figured since I’d never been anything like that in school, and we went on to talk about other things. (Only one creeper asked about the mechanical bull, but I quickly excused myself to the ladies room after that.)
As the evening wore on, I found I actually enjoyed hearing about the different paths my classmates had taken, and I didn’t resent their happy marriages or adorable kids or professional lives. In fact, I was genuinely happy for them. There were even a couple divorces and failed start-ups and one juicy affair rumor, so I didn’t feel completely terrible about my mistakes or lack of direction. When people asked what I was doing now, I simply said I’d moved to New York for a while but missed home and family, so I was working for Natalie and the family farm while I figured out what to do next.
Far from being judgmental, some of my married-with-kids classmates expressed envy at my having so much time to myself, at all the possible avenues still open to me. I smiled and agreed, but inside I thought it would be nice to owe a little time to someone. It made me think of Sebastian, and I wondered what he was doing tonight. I hadn’t heard from him since I got out of his truck three days before.
“I mean, seriously, you could like take off tomorrow and go to Rio or something and no one would even bother you,” Katelyn Witzke was saying to me, although her eyes were scanning the room behind me. “Ooh! There’s Sam Schatko. He looks bad. Did you hear about his wife? I heard she’s screwing his boss. Can you imagine?”
“No. Hadn’t heard that,” I murmured. Katelyn and I had run with the same popular crowd, but even back then I remember her always gossiping about someone. I hadn’t liked it much then and found it even less tolerable now.
“Anyway, I can’t even go to the bathroom at home without the boys following me in there. A shower by myself feels like heaven. And speaking of heaven, what god is that?”
“Huh?”
“That guy right there, behind you. He’s gorgeous. Did he go to our school?”
Confused, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sebastian walking through the crowd, looking right at me. My breath caught in my throat—he did look like a god. Gorgeous and serious and totally focused on me. Wearing a dark blue suit and white dress shirt without a tie, he turned every female head in the place as he crossed the room. My stomach flip-flopped madly.