"So, are there any decorations or themes you're into, Grace?"
James turned to stare sharply at Harrison. "Dude, we've sorted all that," he hissed.
"Yeah, but maybe Grace has some other insight. Like, do you like masquerade balls, 80's themes?"
"I'm confused." I scrunched my brow. "Isn't the theme something that you've already planned out in, like, I dunno, the first meeting? What did you guys decide on?"
"Yes, we have," Ruth confirmed, glaring at Harrison before turning to me. "We're doingProm Revisited."
Oh, God, it was worse than I thought. "O…kay."
"Basically," Harrison breathed, "we're redoing prom."
I could hear a pin drop.
I swallowed hard, my fingers biting into the soft pad of my palm. I could feel the side of my face heating under Harrison's probing stare.
"Do you remember prom?" James broke the silence.
I nodded slowly. "Iheardabout prom. Didn't end up going in the end," I casually dropped, giving Harrison a tight smile. "This will be a lovely trip down memory lane for me." The words dripped out of me like overly sweet honey.
"Shit." Harrison raked his hand through his hair again, red streaking his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Gracie, we can–"
"No," I sighed. "It's fine, really." I was getting really tired of saying those words. Since I arrived back in Ashburton, nothing had beenfine.Still, I fixed everyone with a sweet smile. "I did just tell you guys that I've moved on, and truly, I have. You can't blame me for giving little digs here and there," I joked.
"Of course not, Gracie," Ruth reached out and patted my hand. "You're entitled to your feelings. Like Harry said, we can change the theme."
"Oh, please don't," I pleaded. God, wouldn't that just be precious of me? The prodigal daughter comes back to town, demanding they change the party. "Really, I'm fine. It just caught me off guard for a minute. It would be nice to reenact what I missed. And I don't mean that in a sarcastic way. It will be fine, really." It wouldn't, but I was hardly going to make waves.
"Are you sure, Gracie," Harrison murmured. I turned to look into his soulful brown eyes, and my heart leaped at the genuine concern in his stare.
"Yes," I breathed. We stared at each other for a moment, the air between us sizzling. A discreet clearing of the throat broke our spell, and I glanced down at the paper in front of me, a pink blush climbing.
"So, okay," James continued, "what have we confirmed so far?"
From there, the three of them—for I was far too lost to contribute—started discussing the finer details of the event, turning now and then to fill me in or expand further.
The theme at prom was"Casino Royale".I had no recollection of this, but then there was a very good reason why I had blocked out anything to do with prom. I had kept my focus on graduation and getting the hell out of here.
The decor at prom was basically Vegas and Casino—what a great theme for teens. The girls dressed up to the nines, and the boys wore tuxedos. They couldn't do too much with the theme at the time because not only were they kids, but gambling laws in Kentucky were quite strict.
At least the reunion party sounded marginally better. While we couldn't play for real money, they would replicate Monte Carlo, the Monaco Casino used in the Bond movieCasino Royale,and make it appear as if we were in a real casino. They planned a silent auction, a raffle game with the grand prize of a weekend away in Las Vegas, and various spot prizes throughout the night. It actually sounded quite decent, but I would never admit it. When I queried how this was getting funded, Ruth explained.
"Part of it was leftover class funds, but Harrison was quite vocal in organizing it. He put the feelers out to see who was interested, and we set up a party well. So we had our class—those who wanted to attend—donate. We actually had a really good response."
I turned to Harrison in surprise. "Wow, O’Connor," I grinned. "I think you've missed your calling as an event planner."
He laughed down at me, his face lighting up at my response. "Well, if this teaching gig ever collapses, at least I have a backup." I giggled along with him.
"So, are we done here?" James stood and stretched. "We gotta relieve the babysitter."
"Oh my gosh, you have kids?" That's all it took for Ruth to bust out her phone and start showing pictures of their three-year-old daughter, Tabitha. After cooing over her chubby cheeks, James gently guided his wife to the door with a farewell over his shoulder.
The door closed with a loud echo that bounced around the room.
We were alone.
The silence was deafening and slightly awkward. I fiddled with a pen, clicking it in a slow rhythm.
