anything back.
“Yeah, Lisa and I just realized a little too late that that’s all we really were – friends. She deserved someone who could love her in the way she deserved to be loved. I wasn’t that guy. But her husband, Jack’s step-dad, is a good guy. A dentist. I’m happy for her.”
I looked around as we turned the corner; the door was about thirty feet away. “Anyone else coming?”
“Sue and Diane said they were going to stop by, and I saw Keith and Tom leaving as I pulled into the parking lot.”
“Do you see the old gang much?” I asked.
“Not really,” Cookie said. “My kids had Diane for county honors band and I run into Sue from time to time. What about you?”
“I see Jeremy. And sometimes Tom.”
Cookie smiled. “Some things never change.
“But that’s about it. Ever hear from Gina?” I asked. Twenty years have passed and my heart still races when I say her name.
Cookie shook her head. “I know Sue does. Gina is Chloe’s godmother. She’s not married, I know that. And she’s a killer prosecutor, according to Sue.”
“A prosecutor? I always thought she’d be a writer.”
“She works in the sex crimes/child abuse bureau,” Cookie said. “Prosecutes rape crimes. Sue said she works all the time. Sue’s trying to convince her to come to the reunion. Says she’s thinking about it.”
Gina wasn’t married. She was a prosecutor. Damn, I had no idea. I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to seem overly interested.
“Think a lot of people will come to this one, since it’s the big 2-0?” I asked.
Cookie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope so. Maybe at this one people will be over having to prove that they’ve made it. At the other ones, there was a lot of that. ‘Oh, I did this and that.’ Really? Who cares? Cause I didn’t come to the reunion to hear you brag about all the great stuff you’ve done since high school,” Cookie said.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
We were finally at the door. I whispered to Cookie, “It was great seeing you. And I’ll think about the reunion. I still have the invitation at home.”
I made my way through the crowd to where Coach Smith’s wife and sons stood by the casket. The boys towered over their mom. They were well over six feet, dressed in black suits and white shirts. Their mom, wearing a short black dress, looked more like their sister.
I shook their hands and expressed my condolences. Mrs. Smith remembered me.
“Thanks for coming,” she said. “Rich would be honored that so many of his former players came.”
I walked by his mahogany casket, topped with dozens of red roses. I sneezed. Flowers always made me sneeze. The red roses reminded me of Gina. I had saved money for weeks to get her a dozen red roses for our first Valentine’s Day. I worked at the grocery store stocking shelves so it’s not like I was raking in the greens. I can still see Gina’s smile when she opened the door and I handed her the long white box tied with a red ribbon. Gina loved roses and said that she wanted to carry a bouquet of red roses when we got married.
I couldn’t wait to get outside, away from all of the people. I wasn’t much for crowds, and I hated waiting in lines. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t like taking Jack to the amusement park. Those lines were ridiculous. My head pounded as I weaved through the parking lot to my car.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Gina not being married. It’s all I thought about on the drive home. That and what I had learned about her prosecuting sex crimes. How did I not know that?
It was Lisa’s night to have Jack, so I came home to an empty house. I threw a turkey and cheese sandwich together and grabbed the reunion invitation off the desk in the den.
The invitation wasn’t fancy. It was a piece of white computer paper folded in thirds. I couldn’t stop thinking about Gina, wondering if she would come. After our breakup, I tried reaching out to her
“Yeah, Lisa and I just realized a little too late that that’s all we really were – friends. She deserved someone who could love her in the way she deserved to be loved. I wasn’t that guy. But her husband, Jack’s step-dad, is a good guy. A dentist. I’m happy for her.”
I looked around as we turned the corner; the door was about thirty feet away. “Anyone else coming?”
“Sue and Diane said they were going to stop by, and I saw Keith and Tom leaving as I pulled into the parking lot.”
“Do you see the old gang much?” I asked.
“Not really,” Cookie said. “My kids had Diane for county honors band and I run into Sue from time to time. What about you?”
“I see Jeremy. And sometimes Tom.”
Cookie smiled. “Some things never change.
“But that’s about it. Ever hear from Gina?” I asked. Twenty years have passed and my heart still races when I say her name.
Cookie shook her head. “I know Sue does. Gina is Chloe’s godmother. She’s not married, I know that. And she’s a killer prosecutor, according to Sue.”
“A prosecutor? I always thought she’d be a writer.”
“She works in the sex crimes/child abuse bureau,” Cookie said. “Prosecutes rape crimes. Sue said she works all the time. Sue’s trying to convince her to come to the reunion. Says she’s thinking about it.”
Gina wasn’t married. She was a prosecutor. Damn, I had no idea. I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to seem overly interested.
“Think a lot of people will come to this one, since it’s the big 2-0?” I asked.
Cookie shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope so. Maybe at this one people will be over having to prove that they’ve made it. At the other ones, there was a lot of that. ‘Oh, I did this and that.’ Really? Who cares? Cause I didn’t come to the reunion to hear you brag about all the great stuff you’ve done since high school,” Cookie said.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
We were finally at the door. I whispered to Cookie, “It was great seeing you. And I’ll think about the reunion. I still have the invitation at home.”
I made my way through the crowd to where Coach Smith’s wife and sons stood by the casket. The boys towered over their mom. They were well over six feet, dressed in black suits and white shirts. Their mom, wearing a short black dress, looked more like their sister.
I shook their hands and expressed my condolences. Mrs. Smith remembered me.
“Thanks for coming,” she said. “Rich would be honored that so many of his former players came.”
I walked by his mahogany casket, topped with dozens of red roses. I sneezed. Flowers always made me sneeze. The red roses reminded me of Gina. I had saved money for weeks to get her a dozen red roses for our first Valentine’s Day. I worked at the grocery store stocking shelves so it’s not like I was raking in the greens. I can still see Gina’s smile when she opened the door and I handed her the long white box tied with a red ribbon. Gina loved roses and said that she wanted to carry a bouquet of red roses when we got married.
I couldn’t wait to get outside, away from all of the people. I wasn’t much for crowds, and I hated waiting in lines. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t like taking Jack to the amusement park. Those lines were ridiculous. My head pounded as I weaved through the parking lot to my car.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Gina not being married. It’s all I thought about on the drive home. That and what I had learned about her prosecuting sex crimes. How did I not know that?
It was Lisa’s night to have Jack, so I came home to an empty house. I threw a turkey and cheese sandwich together and grabbed the reunion invitation off the desk in the den.
The invitation wasn’t fancy. It was a piece of white computer paper folded in thirds. I couldn’t stop thinking about Gina, wondering if she would come. After our breakup, I tried reaching out to her
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