Romance on Mountain View Road

by Sheila Roberts

  The table was set for eight and already occupied by six. There sat Lissa, Rand and Laurie. And with them, Cam, Tina and Doug Immeressen, another superjock who’d enjoyed intimidating scrawny geeks. Jonathan would rather have swum in shark-infested waters.

  Who was he kidding? These were shark-infested waters. With a gulp, he pulled out a seat and sat down, nodding at the others.

  “Well, here he is,” Rand said genially, “the king of the chessboard.”

  Not everyone had changed.

  “That’s me,” Jonathan said, pretending it wasn’t an insult.

  Rand studied him for a moment. “You lost the geek look.”

  Jonathan shrugged. Maybe. He still had all his favorite button-down shirts in his closet and his nerdy T-shirts in a drawer at home. You could take the boy out of the geek clothes, but you couldn’t take the geek out of the boy. But for the weekend, that side of him was going to stay firmly hidden.

  Unlike Rand, Doug and Cam didn’t comment on Jonathan’s appearance. They didn’t even bother to say hello, just kept talking with Tina. She was cute and single again, so that was hardly surprising. But they wouldn’t have said anything anyway.

  “I think he looks fantastic,” Lissa said.

  “Thanks.” Jonathan felt that was encouraging. So was the fact that she had her rose. She laid it carefully in front of her plate.

  Okay, maybe he was going to survive this. Maybe he was going to do more than survive. Maybe he could find a way to be suave and entertaining. “Congrats on how well your career’s going. I’ve been watching you every day,” he told Lissa.

  “What, through binoculars?” Rand chortled at his own humor.

  “On TV. You’re great.”

  “Lissa’s always been great,” Rand said. He lowered his voice and Jonathan strained to hear. “I was a fool to let you go.”

  Rand was a fool. Period.

  Lissa blushed and took a sip of her martini.

  The chair next to Jonathan was pulled out and down plunked—oh, no, Daphne. “Don’t spill anything on me,” she cautioned.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jonathan assured her.

  But he did. In his haste to pass the poppyseed dressing to Lissa when the salad had been served, he managed to let the little pitcher slide off its tray. It tumbled right onto Daphne’s plate and rained salad dressing into her lap.

  She scooted back with a yelp.

  Jonathan could feel his cheeks burning. “Sorry, Daphne,” he said. This couldn’t be happening. Now truly panicked, he grabbed for his napkin and in the process, tipped over his water glass. Water slid across the table toward Tina, who was on his other side, amid ruthless chuckles from Rand.

  Jonathan was vaguely aware of someone asking, “Who invited this clown to our table?” He thought it was Cam but it could as easily have been Rand or Doug. He didn’t know. Everything was one ugly blur. He was living his nightmare.

  Daphne was standing up now, holding out the skirt of her black dress. “I have to go change. This dress is ruined.”

  “I’ll pay for a new one,” Jonathan offered.

  “You bet,” she snapped, and made her exit.

  “You always were a klutz,” Rand reminisced.

  Grown men don’t cry. Jonathan wished he could run away, to another city, another state, another country. India, maybe.

  “It was an ugly dress, anyway,” Lissa said in an obvious effort to make him feel better.

  That was Lissa, kind to everyone and everything—lost puppies, little kids, clowns. Jonathan managed a nod.

  The evening crawled tortuously on. Daphne came back to the dining hall but found a seat at another table. “Well, you got rid of her,” Rand cracked.

  It was about the only other thing he said to Jonathan. Hard to believe they’d been childhood friends. Rand had turned into a selfish braggart. Everyone at the table heard about his film agency in Hollywood and his house in “the hills.” Lissa heard about how his wife had never understood him, how next time he was going to pick a woman with heart. “A woman with blond hair and pretty blue eyes,” he added, and gave a lock of her hair a playful tug.

  Jonathan gave his breaded chicken a vicious slice with his knife, sending it skittering off his plate. He didn’t check to see who saw that one. Instead, he kept his head down as he stabbed it with his fork and returned it to his plate. He didn’t touch it again. His appetite was gone, as were his chances of impressing Lissa.

  He sneaked a look at the table where Kyle was sitting with Mindy and Darrell and Bridget and two of his old friends from the band. They were all chatting, smiling, enjoying themselves. He should have sat there, with people who liked him.

  Dessert was served, a chocolate mousse topped with fresh raspberries that the women all raved over. As far as Jonathan was concerned, the best part of dessert was that it signaled the end of dinner.

  “Time for fun,” Tina said, and left her seat.

  Fun? Oh, no. What did that mean?

  She picked up her microphone and asked, “Is everyone having a good time?”

  No.

  Hoots and claps asserted that everyone else present was, indeed, enjoying the party.

  “Well, now we’re going to see how good your memories are. Melody is passing out some pop quizzes. Don’t anyone turn your papers over until I say.”

  “Oh, man, just like in Ms. Crow’s history class,” complained Cam.

  Cam had never been good at history. Actually, Cam had never been good at anything scholastic. His specialty had been football and getting laid.

  Jonathan wished he hadn’t been so good with the books himself. Look where that had gotten him. Melody gave him a sheet of paper and he dutifully turned it facedown.

  Not Rand and Doug. They were already comparing answers. Bunch of cheaters.

  “Okay, now, turn over your papers,” Tina said merrily.

  The questions were properly goofy. Which teacher was nicknamed the Smurf? Who was famous for her bad hair days? (Hint: her initials are L.P.) Lissa saw that one and gave Laurie a playful elbow. Who got caught smoking pot in the boys’ bathroom? Jonathan had no idea. He’d never smoked the stuff. Who did we lose the football championship to? Who cared? Where was the best place to go when you wanted to be alone after a hot date? Ha! He knew that one. Even he had done a little smooching parked at the entrance to the Lost Bride Trail. Who starred in our 1998 production of The Music Man? Daphne, of course.

  Jonathan’s hand suddenly went clammy and what little of the chicken he’d consumed started doing the chicken dance in his stomach. What superbrain got “trapped” in his locker when he was a freshman?

  Seriously? He’d been Tina’s reunion tech slave and this was the thanks he got? He crumpled his napkin into a tight ball. Okay, enough. He’d had enough, enough of this so-called game and enough of these people. Almost all of them were stuck in high school with their stupid snobbish pecking order. He didn’t need to stay for this.

  He shoved out his chair and stood.

  “What’s the matter, Templar?” Cam called after him.

  Jonathan didn’t bother to answer, merely said goodbye with his middle finger.

  He was halfway across the lobby by the time Kyle caught up with him. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Home. I don’t need to sit around and take this shit.”

  Kyle frowned. “Don’t leave, man. If you do, they win.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Jonathan growled. “You didn’t make it into the pop quiz.”

  “Come on. Come back in and sit with us. You can’t let them win.”

  Yes, he could. He shook off his friend’s hand and started walking.

  “You leave, and you’ll really look like a loser,” Kyle called after him.

  That stopped him in his tracks.
>
  “Anyway, you’re not that guy anymore. Are you?”

  Hell, no. Jonathan turned around and marched back to the dining room.

  Chapter Twenty

  He arrived just in time to hear his fellow classmates’ chuckles. Of course. They were laughing at him. He clenched his sweaty palms and made his way back to his table.

  “We were just talking about you,” Rand greeted him.

  Maybe so, but as it turned out the giggling at the moment was over another question, one he hadn’t read on to see. Who fell into the garbage can while trying to fish out her retainer? Someone had done that? Why didn’t he remember?

  “I can laugh about it now,” Tina was saying, “but at the time it wasn’t all that funny.”

  “We got a great view of your ass, though,” Cam called, and she shook her head at him.

  “All those embarrassing things that happened to us in high school,” she said. “Didn’t they seem like the end of the world back then?”

  Yeah, they did.

  “But they didn’t really matter half as much as we thought.”

  Well, he didn’t know about that.

  “’Cause look at what a super bunch of people we’ve turned into,” Tina was saying, sweeping the room with her cheerleader smile. “I hope you’re all having as much fun as I am catching up with everyone. We’re going to need to get out of here pretty soon, but I know you’ll all keep the party going at Zelda’s or the Man Cave.”

  Jonathan shot a look across the table. Sure enough, Rand was whispering something in Lissa’s ear. She gave him a considering smile, then nodded. It would probably be Zelda’s for them and that meant there’d be no chance for him to get any one-on-one time with her tonight.

  “But before we go, I want to thank my reunion committee for all their hard work. Laura and Heidi, stand up.”

  Laura and Heidi stood, and everyone gave them a hearty round of applause.

  “And a big thank-you to Jonathan Templar, my favorite nerd, for doing our webpage for us and getting everything up on Facebook.”

  Applause was a little less hearty now, except for Kyle’s table where there was much cheering. Jonathan felt the flush from his neck clear to the roots of his hair.

  “Okay, everyone, now just a quick reminder about our schedule of events for tomorrow. All you Grizzly Girls don’t forget our breakfast at Breakfast Haus and our shopping spree. Let’s support our hometown economy!”

  Go, Grizzly Girls, Jonathan thought sourly. Lissa would be part of that, so there was no point in asking her out for breakfast.

  “For you golfers, we have the golf tournament, and then, in the afternoon the picnic, where we can get a chance to see how everyone’s families have grown.”

  He already knew how that would go. Lissa would be surrounded by girlfriends; she’d be busy holding their babies, playing with their children. For a moment he could picture them together as a couple, her holding a baby girl with blond curls, him chasing a dark-haired little boy around.

  “And I hope you brought your dancing shoes so you can show off your moves at the dance,” Tina finished. “That’s it for tonight. See you all tomorrow!”

  “See you at the picnic?” Jonathan asked Lissa.

  “I won’t be at the picnic, but I’ll be at the dance so don’t forget to save me one,” she said before Rand whisked her off.

  Jonathan stood, his hands clenched into fists. Why was he even trying? Damn Rand Burwell, anyway. His heart twisted as he watched Lissa smile up at Rand. New clothes, new muscle, slick words—what did it matter?

  Suddenly, Lissa did one small thing that gave him hope. She sniffed her rose and smiled at him over her shoulder. Just one smile, but it was enough to unclench his fists, to send him home whistling. To assure him that his story wasn’t over yet.

  * * *

  “You gotta go to the picnic,” Kyle said when he called Jonathan the next morning.

  Jonathan preferred to save his energy, both physical and mental, for the dance. “It’s only gonna be families.”

  “I’m going. So’s Darrell. And remember Simon Jacobs?”

  “Yeah.” Simon had been another member of the chess club. “I didn’t see him last night.” Not that he’d been looking. The only person he’d been looking for had been Lissa.

  “He didn’t get here until late last night. But he’s coming to the picnic. He’s got a wife and kid now.”

  Simon Jacobs had been even skinnier and geekier than Jonathan. And he’d had a major zit issue. And yet even he was married. Jonathan was now officially the last man from the chess club—heck, on the planet—who didn’t have anyone.

  “He’s gonna want to see you,” Kyle said.

  “Yeah, I’d like to see him, too. He’ll be at the dance, right?”

  “When I talked to him he wasn’t sure. His wife’s pregnant and about to pop.”

  “Oh. Well.” Jonathan still didn’t want to go to the picnic. “Tell him I said hi.”

  “Tell him yourself. Come on, don’t wimp out on me here. We need some chess club solidarity.”

  “You and Simon can stand solid.”

  “Don’t be such a wuss,” Kyle said in disgust.

  “I’m not a wuss,” Jonathan protested.

  “Oh, yeah, you are. You need to go to this stuff, Jon. People want to see you.”

  He’d noticed how much people wanted to see him the night before.

  “Come on, just for a while,” Kyle wheedled.

  Jonathan sighed. “Okay, okay.” He’d go, but only long enough to say hi to Simon.

  He arrived a little after noon at the Riverwalk Park with his bucket of chicken from the Safeway deli to find the picnic area packed with young families. Juan Fernandez, the senior class president, was manning the barbecue, and the aroma of sizzling burgers was heavy on the air. Women were setting out food on one of the tables, while their guys stood in groups, drinking pop and talking. Kids swarmed the nearby play area and chased one another, darting among the adults. Everyone here had someone. He was going to look like a fool wandering around with only his bucket of chicken for company.

  You’re here now, he told himself, make the best of it.

  But who to make the best of it with? That was the question. The crowd looked like it was all cheerleaders and jocks and class officers. All the shy souls had stayed home. Which was what Jonathan should have done.

  Oh, but wait. There, staking out a table at the edge of the crowd, was Kyle. And with him? It had to be Simon and his wife. Except the guy didn’t look like the Simon Jonathan remembered. Simon had missed their ten-year reunion so Jonathan hadn’t seen him in fifteen years. A guy’s appearance could change a lot in fifteen years.

  He thought of how different he looked now. Heck, a guy’s appearance could change a lot in a few months.

  He deposited his contribution to the feast on the buffet table, then started working his way to where his friends were waiting.

  Nearby, one rambunctious little boy in shorts and a red T-shirt came running out of nowhere and managed to collide with Jonathan. He ricocheted off Jonathan’s legs and landed on his backside, a shocked expression on his face.

  “You’re a pretty fast runner,” Jonathan told him, setting him back on his feet. “What’s your name?”

  “Mikey,” the child said. “I’m six.”

  Now Tina had joined them. “Mikey, say you’re sorry for running into Jonathan.”

  So this was Tina’s kid. Now that she was here, Jonathan saw the likeness. He was a good-looking kid. He’d probably grow up to become a member of the in crowd.

  “Sorry,” Mikey muttered.

  “That’s okay,” Jonathan said.

  Mikey didn’t hear him. He was already off and running again.

  Tina watched
him go, smiling fondly. “That boy has no off switch.”

  But Tina did, especially when it came to fraternizing with the unimportant people. “Janelle,” she called, and hurried off to visit with a fellow cheerleader who was holding a toddler on her hip.

  Jonathan continued on his course, steering past laughing groups of mothers and their kids, and finally landed at the table with Kyle and Simon and his family.

  “Hey, you made it,” Kyle said. “This was the last table we could find,” he added.

  On the fringe, just like in high school. But so what? They’d all be on the fringe together and that was better than being alone.

  “Jon!” Simon greeted him. “Great to see you.”

  “You, too,” Jonathan said, taking in his old pal’s new and improved appearance. The zits were gone and so were the specs. “What happened to your glasses?”

  “Lasik surgery.”

  Lucky Simon. He’d shed a major geek accessory. Jonathan had to beat back the green-eyed monster threatening to sour this moment of reconnecting with an old pal. So what if you’re still wearing glasses? Glasses are cool these days.

  Except he didn’t feel cool. He had a new body, new clothes, yeah, and even new glasses, but he was still uncool. He’d proved that at the dinner the night before.

  “This is my wife, Beth,” Simon said, putting his arm around a plain-faced, very pregnant woman. “And this—” he hoisted a toddler from the picnic table bench “—is Bobby.”

  “Named after Bobby Fischer?” Jonathan surmised.

  “Why not? It’ll give him good chess karma.”

  A burst of laughter from one of the other picnic tables drew their attention. Doug Immeressen had just succeeded in slipping an ice cube down Tina’s shirt.

  Yup, stuck forever in high school, Jonathan thought, not for the first time. He studied the group. There they were, the superstars of Icicle Falls High. Were any of them superstars now? Yeah, Tina owned a shop in town, and he’d heard Doug was managing a car dealership in Yakima. He had no idea what Cam Gordon or Feron Prince were doing but he hadn’t seen Cam on TV playing in the Super Bowl. So what made them any better than a guy who owned his own computer repair company?