“Congratulations,” I say automatically and she laughs her thanks and tells me it was a number of years ago now. Marcia was my partner in science for the last couple of years. We made a good team as we both enjoyed the subject. It’s no surprise I became an engineer. I wonder about her.
“What are you up to?” I ask.
“I got into marine biology,” she replies. “That’s where I met Hubert.” She points to a guy who’s standing a little way off. He looks smart in dark slacks and a blue polo shirt. “We run our own research department now.”
“That’s great. Do you still live in town?”
“Hell no.” She laughs openly. “I left within the year. We live in Maine now.”
“What about you?” she asks.
“I live in England. I’m an engineer and a partner in a project management company, mostly on construction projects.”
She nods her approval that I’ve done well, which I have.
“A wife?” she enquires. And then quickly follows it with, “Or husband, life partner?” I almost snort at her attempt to be more open-minded. I didn’t date anyone at school, but she surely would have known I was openly homophobic.
“No,” I reply and when I don’t expand on that there’s an awkward silence for a few seconds.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you later,” she says, saving us both. I agree and she heads back to her Hubert. I scan the crowd, slight worry rising when I don’t spot Holden straight away. Then I see him in the line for the yearbooks, and I join it so I can collect mine too. There weren’t any yearbooks for the year we graduated. The teacher in charge of putting them together lost the file. Rumor has it that it was found again only two years ago, which was partly the reason for holding this reunion.
I wait patiently and watch Holden pick his up, hoping he won’t disappear in the few minutes before I collect mine. When I do, I can see he’s surrounded by a few people all signing each other’s yearbooks. I stand and watch him for a minute. He looks much better than he did this morning in his store. He looks relaxed and has a ready smile that lights up his whole face. He’s wearing a blue sweater vest over a soft-brushed blue-plaid button down. The color suits him and he looks handsome. A warmth blooms behind my ribs. He looks like a feeling I lost a long time ago. I walk over to him, joining the group around him, being offered their yearbooks to sign and letting them sign mine even though I barely remember who they are. Eventually they disperse and we’re left alone.
“Can I sign yours?” I ask him. His mouth flattens into a line and he snaps his book shut, hugging it tightly to his chest. I guess that’s a no, then.
“Can we at least talk?”
He hesitates, and I think he’s going to brush me off, but then he nods and leads the way over to a nearby bench. So, no privacy. Fair enough, I can’t blame him.
I take a seat next to him and put my yearbook next to me, and I run my hands over my thighs trying to rub the clamminess off my palms. Holden doesn’t speak, he just sits and waits for me to say my piece.
“I said so many hateful and hurtful things to you, ridiculed you, shoved you. None of it was right and you didn’t deserve any of it.”
I pause and swallow, needing a second to stop the shame from overwhelming me. “I was going through a tough time with my parents’ divorce. I thought, very mistakenly as I understand now, that my dad had rejected me, and I believed that if I was more like him he’d love me again. It was a shitty thing to do.”
“It was,” he says with a sigh.
“I’m gay,” I blurt out and feel Holden shift suddenly and turn his gaze on me. I dare not look at him so I keep staring straight ahead. “I didn’t know back then. It took me a few years to figure it out when I was in college. It took me several more to accept it.”
Neither of us speak for a long time. Right now I’ve run out of words, except sorry, I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying that.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I’m met with another minute of silence. When Holden speaks his voice is low.
“Are you telling me all this b-because you think it’ll help me or to ease your own c-conscience?”
His words hit me right in the solar plexus and I can’t breathe. I don’t have an answer for him, not the right one anyway. The silence stretches until he sighs.
“That’s what I thought.”
He rises and starts to walk away.
“Holden!” I call. I don’t want it to end like this, it can’t.
He stops and turns, his green eyes deep and full of regret.
“I just w-wish things had been different.” His voice cracks at the end and he quickly walks away, leaving me staring after him. Any hope I had of forgiveness and making amends crumbles like dry fall leaves crushed underfoot and the pieces scattered to the wind.
CHAPTER TEN
