To Be, Or Not (Class of 85)

by Margo Hoornstra

  With a glance at Amanda who sat at his side, he wished she’d remained part of that inner circle and could only blame himself for that long ago lapse in judgement. “Those were good times,” Barry agreed.

  His patience lasted during a few more superficial dialogues, he then maneuvered her to the stern on the top deck where they leaned against the brass and mahogany railing. “At long last,” he murmured against her hair. “Alone.”

  “Oh, Barry,” a female voice called from a lower deck.

  Narrowed in speculation, Amanda’s eyes grabbed onto his, daring him to come up with anything short of the absolute truth. “Do you enjoy the fame, Barry? All the attention?”

  “Not really. You never know who likes you for the person you are, and who’s in it for the dazzle.”

  She looked out over the water at how a brilliant full moon showered golden rays onto the waves. “I don’t do dazzle.”

  Hearing her admission, his smile was as broad as it was genuine. And, despite being in a public place, he yearned for some form of further physical contact. In his mind, he’d spin her around to face him, wrap her in his arms, clutch her tight and kiss every available inch.

  Instead, he placed his hand over where hers rested on the rail. “I appreciate hearing that. Especially from you.”

  With two short whistle blasts, the Lady of the Lake circled at the Oak Orchard lighthouse to begin the return trip. If he wanted to propose before they arrived back at Summerville Pier, he’d better get to it.

  “Amanda?”

  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he tried to ignore his sweat soaked palms. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first televised game in the majors. Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, the Orioles down by two, his turn at the plate.

  And he struck out.

  He wasn’t about to strike out tonight, the most important night of his life.

  “Amanda,” he said again.

  “For the second time, what, Barry?” She smiled as she spoke and his heart flipped up to his throat.

  “Amanda.”

  “Yes, Barry?”

  “You know how much I care about you.” With some effort, he swallowed. This was going to be more difficult than he’d imagined. That particular beginning sounded like the intro to a kiss off. He should know. He’d done it enough times. On a small head shake, he cleared his mind of the past. “It’s been great being with you over these past few months.”

  “Don’t miss the spotlights and the high life?”

  “Not for a minute. But, you know the best part?”

  He brought both palms up to rest on her shoulders. She felt warm and soft and real beneath his hands. He drew in the scents of flowers, fresh air and moonlight and held on tight.

  Taking her hand, he led her to a nearby bench then waited until she sat before he dropped to one knee. “You’re all I want now, Amanda. For the rest of my life.”

  He drew out the small blue box tied with a sparkling silver bow, and his fingers fumbled for a moment until he was able to free up the ribbon and lift the cover. “Life has kept us away from each other for so long, mainly due to the choices we’ve made, the paths we’ve chosen. But, now that we’ve found each other again, I never want to take the chance I’ll lose you again.”

  Though he held the platinum and diamond engagement ring up for her to see, her eyes never strayed from his face as he continued. “Marry me, Amanda. So we never have to spend any more of our lives apart.” Holding the ring between his thumb and forefinger, he lifted her left hand. “Please say yes.”

  With the ring suspended over the tip of her ring finger, he barely dared to breathe while he watched the emotions on her beautiful face change from surprise to caring, then back to surprise as her attention shifted to the waiting diamonds. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

  He secured the ring onto her finger with unbelievable ease. “You won’t regret this.”

  The tears sliding down her cheeks spoke for her when she lifted her gaze up at him. The affection and trust he saw in her expression swelled a heart he had no idea could hold any more love for her.

  ****

  “Did you want a large wedding, or small?”

  Barry’s hand found a sensitive spot at the top of her left thigh and a surge of masculine satisfaction whizzed through him as he listened to her satisfied sigh.

  She snuggled close beneath the covers on the elaborate oak four poster in the master bedroom of his townhouse. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

  “We could go to the courthouse in Rochester for all I care, and find a judge with thirty minutes to spare.”

  Barry wrapped her in his arms and closed his eyes on a contented sigh of his own. It was an unspoken bond between them, the fact that she didn’t give a rip about the huge amount of money he had earned in his pro career. She didn’t care about his extensive real estate holdings and other accumulated wealth. She cared about him.

  “You know I’ll do what ever you want.”

  “Money is no object,” she said in a voice lowered to mimic his. Then, reaching up, she placed a tender palm against his cheek. “I understand that, my darling. And I don’t care.”

  He brought her palm to his lips. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he whispered, placing a kiss in its center. “No woman’s ever told me that before.”

  “I’m telling you now.” Leaving the shelter of the bed sheet, she extended a long, shapely leg across his torso then rose up until she straddled his hips.

  Her hands fisted on the pillow at either side of his head, she lowered her body onto him. The way she moved against him, the way that made him throw his head back and groan, wasn’t learned, it was instinct. Brought on, he prayed, by being in love.

  She lifted her head from the sanctuary of his shoulder long enough to tease, “What time is the dinner dance at the Inn tomorrow night and are you still sure you want to go?”

  “Cocktails at six. Dinner at seven.” He finished on a shudder as her palm stroked, strong and sure on his stomach just below his navel. “I only hope I’ll have the strength to attend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “When I was younger, I found the opulence of the Summerville Inn impressive,” Barry said as he and Amanda entered the lavishly appointed ballroom. “But, right now, I’m seeing nothing but you.”

  Molly Carter-McCarthy and Nadine Archer stood side by side behind the registration table. Talk about opposites. A long time friend, Molly was as sweet as cranky old Nadine was sour.

  “Sign in! Sign in!” Molly enthused with her trademark Pollyanna smile. “Barry!” Eyes wide, smile grown wider, she hustled around the table the moment she laid eyes on him. “It’s so good to have you home with us again and at the reunion.” She enveloped him in a fervent hug he gladly returned. “Have I told you that?”

  “Not since last night,” he replied, straightening the tie she’d knocked cock-eyed.

  “And Amanda,” Molly went on without missing a beat. “It’s always good to see you.”

  Amanda smiled as their former classmate bestowed another eager clinch. “You too, Molly.”

  “Good crowd tonight?” Barry put his arm around Amanda after they were released. Since both had worked at the Saturday afternoon Hornets game, he hadn’t seen her since Friday night, make that Saturday morning. Either way, he’d missed her.

  “Our own Harbor Lights Band plans to perform a pre-dinner set,” Molly said. “Enjoy!”

  “Barry! Oh, Barry! How are you?” He glanced up and saw Cassandra Watson heading their way.

  Cass-andra, code for Community Ass, an uncharitable nickname she’d earned from a group of Summerville jocks whom she’d once been more than happy to accommodate. By some odd quirk, Barry had never had the occasion to sample what she offered. An omission for which he was now tremendously grateful.

  Before he could prevent it, Amanda was pushed to one side and replaced by a hard-packed sequined form. After returning the most platonic of hugs, he freed himself. “Cassandra, how are you
doing?” he asked, tucking Amanda securely against his side where he determined she would stay.

  “Just fine now that I know you’re here,” Cassandra chortled. At a small cough from nearby, she shot a coy look at the man beside her. “This is Matt Durand,” she effused, drawing a stranger forward. “My companion for the evening.”

  “Nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Amanda.” She stepped over to offer her hand.

  “My pleasure, Amanda,” he heard Durand say. A wave of jealousy surged through him for no other reason than the flare of male appreciation he saw erupt from the other guy’s eyes.

  “Nice meeting you both,” Durand said.

  As Molly had promised, the Harbor Lights Band began a romantic instrumental. Not bothering to ask Amanda if she wanted to dance, Barry folded her into his arms. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  She let out a low giggle. “Once when I picked you up in my car, twice on the way here and again coming up the steps before we walked in.”

  “Guess I have it covered, huh?”

  “You’re just overcome by the pomp and ceremony in here.”

  “If I’m overcome, it’s at my monumental good fortune at being with you.”

  “Trying to impress me?” she began on a light laugh she turned serious. “You don’t have anything to worry about.” The hand he held clasped tighter as did the arm across his back. “I’m not going anywhere, Barry. I thought I proved that to you last night.”

  Chin resting on top of her head, he closed his eyes on a smile. “You did that,” he whispered. “And I want you to know how special last night was.” Releasing her hand, he brought his arms down, hands clasped together at her waist. Her arms circled his neck in response. “Just as I expected, you feel even better than you look.”

  “I feel wonderful being with you.”

  Taking advantage when she pulled back slightly to look him in the eye, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m sorely tempted to kiss somewhere else, but I’m not sure I’d be able to stop once I got started.”

  “Me either.”

  “I am sorely tempted to take you back to my place,” he whispered when, as luck would have it, the lights flashed and a drum roll echoed from the stage.

  Beth Baumgartner-Heade made her way on stage to stand at the microphone, all smiles at being the center of attention. “Okay, everyone,” she said after waiting for what little applause there was to die down. “Take your seats. Our hosts, Jim and Genie Rawlings have prepared a fabulous dinner for us tonight.” What would have been a smile from anyone else became a sneer. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

  “Guess that’s it.” Barry kept possession of Amanda as he guided them toward their table. “Ready Betty always had that cold shower effect on me.”

  “There will be time for us later,” Amanda promised in a low voice. “I’m going to stop at the bathroom. Save me a seat.”

  “We’re in the corner by the front door,” he said. “The others at our table are Trudy, Eddie Tanner, Pete Conway and a fellow teacher from the college and Jake Holbrook, ‘cause I didn’t want him to have to sit alone.”

  She put her palm on his cheek. “Like I said before. You are such a good guy.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  As she passed through the ornate doors of the ballroom’s rear wall, Amanda stopped after someone put a firm grip on her arm. She glanced up and found Aaron Goodwin. Looking far from friendly.

  “Well, well. Our own ice queen from the class of eight five. How ya doin’, Amanda?” He recited her name in an amused sing-song fashion. “The reunion committee has themselves a nice little turnout tonight.”

  Not sure what he was up to, she pulled her arm free. “What do you want, Aaron?”

  His visual survey of the room accompanied a snort. “I’m thinkin’ the Inn is more of a draw than the participants.”

  She aimed her gaze at their table in the hopes Barry would see them and come to her rescue. Seeing him deep in a discussion with Jake Holbrook, those hopes were quickly dashed.

  “So you’re with my man, Barry, I see.” Lifting a flask from inside his jacket, Goodwin made no secret of taking a huge swallow.

  “We’ve been seeing each other for awhile now.”

  No way was she about to tell him about their engagement. Anyway, she and Barry had decided to wait awhile before making a formal announcement.

  “You make good old Barry a lucky man yet?”

  The grin streaked his thin lips into a leer and he leaned into her. The unsteady hand which groped her forearm came dangerously close to landing on the side of her breast. Shaggy brows above bloodshot eyes waggled at her in a way that sent a dull ache swirling into her stomach. Something bad was about to happen.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Shouldn’t surprise me, though.” Aaron sniffed as if she hadn’t spoken. “Carlson always got the babes with a stiff one.” Mild alarm quickly became sickening regret.

  “At Doogan’s one night last spring, my man Barry suggested a bet. First one to get lucky at the reunion wins.”

  “Wins what?” Amanda couldn’t believe she asked.

  With a drunken stare aimed at the floor, he continued, “A pot load of money of course, but I shoulda known he’d pick up with you again since he never did crack that damned ice chunk exterior in high school.”

  Though his hand had long since slipped off her arm, morbid curiosity kept her rooted to the spot, like an observer of some horrid train wreck. Terrified by the futility, fascinated by the gore, unable to flee or look away.

  The train wreck otherwise known as my new life.

  Oblivious to the horror Amanda was positive showed on her face, he went on. “No sir, my man Barry ain’t no quitter. Saw that little booty of yours and had to get his hands on it.” He made an obscene gesture with both hands. “‘Scuse me, get his dick into, and didn’t stop ‘til mission was accomplished.”

  Amanda was sure she was going to throw up.

  A lie. Everything she’d shared with Barry these past three months was a lie. Twisted images flashed in and out of her mind, taking her back to the night at Doogan’s when she and Barry’s sister ran into him—by accident.

  She fisted her hands at her sides—at the picture of Aaron Goodwin from across the room, smug and knowing smile on his face, raising a glass of beer to Barry.

  In tribute to his not being a quitter.

  Soon, she remembered every nuance of how that evening ended. Barry’s so called apology, his arms coming around to pull her close; his lips seeking a taste of hers. As the memories cleared, indignation and rage replaced shock and disbelief.

  “I’m off to find myself a lucky participant, if you get my drift.”

  She got Aaron’s drift all right. A disgusting blend of cheap adolescent tricks and jock induced cruelty. On the third attempt, he managed to secure the flask back into his coat pocket and, with only the suggestion of a drunken sway, headed into the crowded room.

  The animated sounds of people talking and having a good time, pounded into her ears until the cheery voices mashed and blended into the long and drawn out whine of irritation.

  Barry’s laughter was the first distinct thing Amanda heard as she made her way to their table. “I saved you a seat.” He stood, broad smile on his face, and held out a chair for her.

  She could not bring herself to sit.

  “Congratulations!” The happy ring of Trudy’s familiar voice forced its way into her ears and she looked up to see her friend and Tanner with water glasses raised. Their other table mates did the same.

  “I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer,” Barry admitted. The cock-eyed grin she’d always loved took on an oddly disturbing mask. “I told them about our engagement.”

  As he reached out to slide one arm around her shoulder, she side stepped to move out of range.

  Trudy stood. “It’s great news!”

  Tanner quickly rose to join her. “Have you set a date y
et?”

  “No. Not yet,” Amanda stammered. Not ever!

  The crash and crumble of metal smashing metal flared inside her head.

  Train wreck complete.

  She saw Barry’s mouth moving. Then his hands reached out to her. She didn’t care, she’d quit listening to what he had to say. As far as allowing him to put his hands on her...

  Never again.

  And, she’d never let him see her cry again. “I’m—uhm—something’s come up. I have to leave.”

  “Amanda. What’s wrong?”

  At his disbelieving look, she couldn’t help remembering that Barry Carlson was famous for his creative expressions along with other maneuvers he used on whomever he needed to charm. She pressed her lips together.

  Not buying it, Barry. Not for one more stinking nanosecond.

  Spinning, she blew through the ballroom doors to the reception area beyond, ignoring the quizzical glances of any party goers left in her wake.

  Thankful that no one attempted to hinder her escape, her focus remained on the nearest exit when a picture propped up behind the registration desk caught her eye. Stopping short, she came face to face with a life-sized picture of a young Amanda and two friends, pre-graduation, pasted on a cardboard cutout.

  Could this night, or her life, get any worse?

  ****

  Hot on Amanda’s heels, Barry followed her out of the ballroom like a rejected puppy. “Can you at least tell me what the hell is going on?”

  She turned so abruptly, he damned near bowled her over. But when he shot out a bracing arm so she wouldn’t fall, she dodged away from him as if he’d come at her with a butcher knife.

  “Look, if you’re not feeling up to staying, let’s go back to my place. We can be alone.” And I can find out what the hell is the matter.

  “Were extra points awarded for maintaining the charade until the reunion was over?”

  “Charade? What are you talking about?”

  “Sorry to ruin your winnings, but I refuse to be taken in any longer. Or be made a fool of, to be more precise. I truly believed you’d changed, Barry.” She lowered her eyes and he was horrified to see a tear fall onto the carpet. “That things between us could be different.”