Reunion

CW: allusions to an affair

Valerie and Sarah walked into the cafeteria which was glittering, lit up by cafe lights in the shape of mini light bulbs with a soft, yellow glow. Ten tables, with numbers on little gold stands written on thick card stock in a flowing black in calligraphy, were arranged around the stone statue of the knight in the center of the room. A huge banner hung above the sign-in station bearing the knight in shining armor read “WELCOME CLASS OF 2017.” Soft pop music played over the speaker. 

“I’m so glad you came out,” said Sarah through clenched teeth. Valerie pulled her closer. “I don’t think I would’ve come without you,” she said.

Her friend gave a big smile. “It’s a good excuse to get out of town for a bit. Go back home,” Valerie replied.

The girls checked in with Beatrice who gushed at them upon their arrival. High pitched compliments of beauty filled the air. Sarah and Valerie pinned their names to their dresses and placed their handbags at table 4 before heading to the buffet. The food was surprisingly good. Valerie had three tacos and some chips and guac. Sarah was discouraged at the texture of the vegetarian option so she had a second and third helping of chips and guac. “How do you think Alex is doing with the kids this weekend,” Sarah asked and took a deep sip of red wine. Valerie finished her bite and smiled, blocking the image of food in her mouth from her friend’s gaze with a delicately placed hand, “Good, I think. I mean, he’s their dad.” 

Sarah smiled back at her, “Are you guys doing ok, Sweetie?” The question hung in the air, heavy for a moment. The music faded from their attention. 

“Yes,” Valerie nodded vigorously. As if that might reassure both of them. More squeals of laughter filled the air as they pulled Sarah to talk with a tall young man who once played football. Sarah shot Valerie a wink. With her friend gone, Valerie whipped out her cell phone. Alex had sent over a couple pictures of the family enjoying pizza and a movie. Her heart warmed. She didn’t notice when Shaan entered. 

He arrived with a friend of his, someone who hadn’t graduated with the class, but had spent his freshman and sophomore year in these hallowed halls. After checking in, Shaan and Patrick walked over to the buffet before plopping down at table 3. Within fifteen minutes, single women seemed to flock to Patrick. Shaan rolled his eyes. As Shaan took in the room, he noticed her. She was sitting, slouched over her phone, at table 4, right ahead of him. From behind, looked the same as she had at fifteen. Shaan straightened his tie and collar as he stood, abandoning his plate. He peered over her perfectly bronzed shoulder to see the can of cola in front of her before circling to the cooler, grabbing a second can along with a beer, and approaching the table.

Shaan allowed his mind to fantasize what the feeling of that lace capped sleeve would be if it touched his lips. He imagined that it would be rough, but that her skin below would be smooth like ivory.

The sound of the cans hitting the table startled Valerie. “Thanks, Sarah, but I don’t need another one,” she said and swirled her half full can to prove it without glancing up. 

“Not Sarah,” answered Shaan. She looked up and he caught a hint of confusion dart across her face.

“I’m sorry, Shaan,” she said bashfully. He noted with pride the soft blush creeping into her cheeks and that she remembered his name.

“May I?” he asked as he pulled out a plastic chair and took his seat without hearing her response. But she soon smiled at him. He hoped his confidence had charmed her. “How are you?” he said, taking a long sip of beer to hide the quiver in his voice. The cold bubbles filled his mouth, the alcohol warmed his stomach, and he hid the grimace that danced in his eyes at the taste of cheap beer.

“I’m doing well,” she answered as she flipped her phone over so the screen faced the table with a thud, “Thank you. How are you?” He watched her lips for a moment too long and he laughed. She laughed. More blush filled their cheeks.

“I’m doing really well. Are you still in Colorado?” he inquired. 

“No, no. My husband got a really good job up in Montana as a ranch hand. We live on site so it’s not just work, but home,” Valerie boasted. She beamed back at Shaan. Pride filled her heart as she let herself brag about Alex. Shaan’s heart stopped pounding for a moment at the word, “husband.” 

“I didn’t know you were married,” he stuttered out and shifted his weight in the hard, plastic chair. His eyes darted to the diamonds decorating her left hand. Valerie was the type of woman who cooked dinner every night and baked cookies on the weekend. Shaan imagined she texted her husband every day at work and packed his lunch with a little note bearing her love on a folded up napkin. Only a fool would pass up Valerie.

“Yes,” she said, “Almost ten years.” She took a sip of her cola, tipping her long, swan, neck back. Shaan saw himself kissing that neck. Memorizing the scent of her rose perfume. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. She smiled and opened the second can with a crack. She rested her cheek on her hand.

“Wow! Quite a commitment,” his voice shook with each word and fingers drummed the table anxiously. She smiled. They sat in silence a bit. He finished his beer and popped the top of the second one. He took a swig and she grinned at him. “This is gonna make me sound like an idiot,” he started.

“Nonsense,” her gentle hand was placed on his. He admired her long fingers. She coaxed the truth out of him with the kindness in her eyes he had always admired. 

“I had such a school boy crush on you when we were here,” he said while wildly indicating the cafeteria and then abruptly brought his arms down. He took a long swig of beer.

“You did?” she whispered and leaned closer to him. He inhaled the soft scent of rose. He felt like a child, sitting in science class behind her. She had long, straight, dark hair that cascaded down her bare back. He had spent many days staring at that black waterfall, imagining what it might be like if it encased his own head during a make out session in his parents’ basement.

Shaan nodded, took another sip of liquid courage, and plastered on a smile to mask the discomfort in his voice as he affirmed,“I did. Yep.” He nodded like an idiot and she giggled. His heart quickened at her giggle. It was a giggle he had enjoyed as a bystander. A laugh that was shoved forward at one of Patrick’s jokes, not directed to him in the slightest.

“Wow!” she exclaimed blushed and laughed at how high pitched she had gotten. “I just…” her words trailed off with a sigh so she took a sip of cola which spilled out through her smile. “I just had no idea,” she muttered and sat back and beamed at him while patting her lips dry. He cleared his throat and stared down at his hands in his lap. When he looked up, he saw her fumbling with her ring. 

He leaned back in his chair, pulling his arm from her grasp. Her hand moved back to her lap, slowly. Shaan read the situation slowly. He was surprised and delighted to see her in pain. He chose to let her sit in the silence of the interaction. “Well, I think I need a real drink,” she declared as she sat up and swirled her Cola. She turned back, locking eyes with Shaan for just a moment to ask, “Do you want one?” The question was tentative, full of child-like hope.

Shaan let a slow, deliberate smile slide across his face. He raised his beer can at her. She nodded. He watched her long legs walk away. When she returned with a small glass of red wine, he peered at her through the corner of his eye. He held his phone like a shield in his palm as he texted Patrick to tell him he’d figure out his own way back to the hotel.

“Are your parents doing well?” she asked politely. 

“Yes,” he said and pretended to shift his attention to the cluster of girls Sarah was standing with as they giggled and made their slow approach to Patrick’s table. His phone buzzed in his pocket with Patrick’s reply: OK.

“Are you staying with them?” she asked. Her question caught him off guard. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. 

Shaan could hear his blood rushing. “No,” he answered and cringed when his voice cracked at the end. He took a deep gulp of beer. She smiled back at him. “I’m at a nice hotel, downtown,” he continued while waving his hand in no particular direction. She giggled. Around them, the reunion had grown roudier with the alcohol. Beatrice stepped in front of the buffet and mentioned something about a presentation. A vinyl screen slowly lowered and all the lights turned off. Shaan was vaguely aware of the sound of the plastic chair moving closer to him. He inhaled Valerie’s perfume. Shots of their high school years began to flash onto the screen. The girls screeched like banshees each time Patrick came onto the screen. 

Shaan bit his lip. Her hand was on his thigh as she leaned in to look at the next group of photos. He took a staggering breath. The air still smelled of Mexican food. He did his best to focus on the spices instead of her. As the last few photos of the class at graduation flashed onto the screen, Shaan took out his phone and requested a ride from a rideshare app. 

The cafeteria became well lit once more as a cannon shot a burst of silvery confetti into the air. Valerie giggled full of delight. Shaan found himself laughing with her. Whoops, hollers, and joy exploded from everyone in the room. Cupcakes had replaced the supper. Valerie stood and went to the table. He had five more minutes with her. 

Valerie picked two chocolate cupcakes. She placed one in front of Shaan. He was once again busy with his phone and she felt the weight of her actions come flooding in. She ate her cupcake quickly and silently. Next, she whipped out her own phone and began texting Sarah. Her friend came crashing over to the table, obviously drunk. Sarah’s hand flew from her purse to the table as she shoved the keys at Valerie with a wink. A nervous looking guy stood three feet behind her. Sarah wrapped a long, thin, arm around his neck and stomped away.

Valerie picked up the car keys and stood when Shaan did. “Well,” she began, “It was really good to see you.”

He barely looked up at her.

“I can walk you out,” she said. They began collecting their garbage from their table. She reached for his hand as he opened the door. The summer night was cool on their hot skin as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the parent pick up lane. It was a familiar action not done in over a decade.

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered as she dropped his hand. Shaan looked at her. His intense brown eyes had hints of pain. Her right hand flew to her wedding ring and she sighed.

“Fuck,” Shaan cursed which alarmed Valerie. He never used to do that. Then again, it had been 10 years. “The driver just canceled,” he waved his phone in the air angrily. 

“Let me take you,” she offered before she knew the words were leaving her mouth. “It’s just going to be me at Sarah’s tonight so I can go back whenever, I really don’t mind.” He nodded and she felt relief. They walked over to Sarah’s red Beetle. Shaan entered the passenger seat and brushed aside some napkins and empty coffee cups. Valerie felt a bit embarrassed. She adjusted the mirrors and the seat before powering up the car. Loud pop music filled the car. “Sorry!” she shouted and adjusted the volume quickly, “Sarah and I were jammin’,” she said and instantly cringed at her word choice and blushed. But Shaan laughed. He turned the volume up and rolled down his window. She followed suit. Valerie snuck anxious glances at her passenger who always seemed to be looking out the window. As they approached the parking lot, she swallowed the basketball sized lump in her throat. She put the car in park and rolled up her window. He rolled up his.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said.

Valerie searched for a smile in the dark and tried to calm her beating heart. She nodded at him and pressed her lips together. Shaan found his hand reaching for her hair, for a rebellious piece of blue confetti, glittering in the streetlight, that wanted to run away. He plucked it and she laughed. When she released her lips he captured them. She kissed him back. Tentatively at first and then with a frantic passion. She tasted his cheap beer. He tasted her bitter wine. His hands were entangled in her short hair. Her fingers scratched his scalp.

Wordlessly, they exited the car. He held her hand and led her through the bright lobby doors. He waved at the bored desk clerk with her wild curls held precariously back by a little butterfly clip. Shaan didn’t stop at the elevator, but guided her to a side stairwell. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She felt blind to everything but him. As they approached his door, he reached for his wallet and removed a slim, plastic key card. He swiped it over the lock which glowed green for a moment. She swallowed hard.

She followed him as he turned on the light and faced her at the entrance of the room. He sat on his bed and removed his coat. She stood, watching him. He cleared his throat. She joined him on the bed, her legs crossed protectively.

“You don’t have to. You could leave,” he offered her an out. She bit her lip, so she could feel the pain of the moment. Her mind returned to the bed she left behind. It had been cold for six months.

Valerie cleared her throat. “I know,” she responded. 

Two hours later she stood in the shower. Hot water poured over her skin as tears flowed from her eyes like a waterfall. With trembling fingers she scrubbed at her skin. She scratched her scalp vigorously as she applied shampoo and conditioner. When she stepped out, Valerie wrapped herself in a white, fluffy towel. She rubbed it over her face as hard as she could until it burned. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her skin was the color of cooked lobster and her eyes were bloodshot from the tears.

Shame filled her stomach and heart at the image of the red mark of his kiss. It would become blue and purple. Not like her husband would ever notice, though. That would require him to pull back her bra to reveal it.

Valerie took a deep steadying breath. She wrestled herself into her old outfit and smelled the scent of Shaan’s cinnamon cologne on it. An additional sob threatened to break free. The room was empty when she returned. But the glass door to the balcony was open and a tall figure stood, leaned up against the wood railing. Valerie noticed a small, bright light, indicating a lit cigarette.

She walked into the room, taking in the intimacy of an old friend. Her mind imagined a nervous Shaan contemplating outfits, crumpling shirts and tossing them onto the desk chair. She also noted the deep black tie which had been draped along the back of the chair and was glad he chose not to wear it. The bed was messy and a blush filled her cheeks at the memory of their time together. Valerie approached the balcony cautiously. She stood in the doorway, watching him taking a deep drag like an actor out of an old Hollywood film. Her bare feet danced like a ballerina’s on the wooden floor as she approached him. She rested her chin on her right hand and peered at the man before her.

Valerie remembered how he trailed Patrick like a lost puppy. But now, his jawline was crisp and firm. A hint of a 5 o’clock shadow had begun to peak up. His eyes were dark and mysterious, not beady and lost. His hands, the ones that had anxiously clicked a pencil in the back of the room during their final in science, now knew how to touch a woman’s body. “I have to go,” she whispered and traced a finger tip along the back of his right hand. Shaan stubbed out his cigarette before wordlessy returning to the room. 

Valerie remained. She breathed in the crisp night air which still had a hint of Shaan’s cigarette and watched the bustle of Friday night traffic. Her mind wandered to Sarah. Her Tuesday night phone calls with Valerie were filled with tales of the night life and the men that held mysteries unknown to a woman who married at 18. Valerie was brought back to the balcony as she felt his arms around her and then smelled his cologned mixed with the cigarette mixed with the scent of sex. She felt his lips on her neck, the soft hint of stubbled scratching as he dove into her body one last time. It ended all too soon.

She walked away slowly, letting the image of her body imprint in his mind. Her hand lingered on the silver door handle of the room for a moment as she imagined him throwing it open and begging for her to stay. He’d say to her, “You’ll never be content with him! Stay here with me!”

She’d reply, “That’s what they all say.”

But instead, he left her in silence to walk down the stairwell and out to the car. Her phone buzzed indicating a message from her husband: Off to bed. Sweet dreams. I love you.