Chapter Two - Present Day

                                   Class of '72 High - Friday Night Cocktail Party

The Grand Ballroom of the Abbeyville Hilton was designed to accommodate more than five hundred, but for this event only a hundred and seventy-five invitees and guests had confirmed reservations. Katie had worked tirelessly for over a year planning the reunion, but she was beginning to think the entire weekend was going to be a disaster.

 Abbeyville High School boasted a graduating class of one-hundred-thirty-seven, which was quite large in a town of only five thousand residents. Unlike the majority of her classmates who had gone off to attend out-of-state colleges and moved on to live in various parts of the world, Katie had attended Minnesota State and had stayed in her hometown to raise her family with her husband James.

James O'Brien obtained his law degree, passed the bar on his first try and was hired by a small law firm the year their first son was born. Two years and another son later, James opened his own office specializing in environmental law and representing low-income farmers through the Minnesota Family Farm Law Project.

With Katie arranging his social calendar and business engagements, James grew his practice into one of the largest in the county. Although his work took him away from his family for extended periods, Katie was content to be the typical stay at home mom, raising their two sons and volunteering at local charity events.

It wasn't long before members of the Chamber of Commerce approached James to run for a seat on the City Council, where his warm personality and honest reputation helped him win the mayor's race a few years later. He continued to ride his rising political star all the way to the capitol, eventually being elected the youngest member of the Minnesota Senate. Yet, even with his ability to fill an auditorium during a political debate, even he wasn't enough of a draw to entice his own classmates to attend another reunion.

Katie was looking forward to the celebration and was devastated by the lack of enthusiasm she had received, not only from her classmates, but from those who had helped her organize the two prior events. When she had started looking for additional help from the twentieth reunion committee, she'd found that most of them had moved out of town, or had lost interest.

When Stuart called with the dire prediction that if she didn't chair the committee for the thirtieth, there probably wouldn't be a reunion at all, she reluctantly agreed, even though she knew she would have a great deal to do bring it together. Fortunately there were enough funds remaining in the reunion account for the deposit on the ballroom and food, but not much left for a band or decorations.

Her "save the date" e-mail announcements were met with more polite declines than acceptances and when even her best friend told her that she might not be able to make it, Katie was nearly ready to call it quits.

Ever the supportive husband, James offered his assistance by asking his staff to volunteer to help. He used his political charm on several of his business contacts who contributed exciting door prizes to the event. A local printer donated the invitations, and soon after they were mailed, the acceptances began arriving with more positive responses. Katie began to relax, but she could feel her anxiety level increase as Friday night's opening weekend cocktail party was about to begin.

Katie would never admit to anyone, especially her husband, how desperately she wanted the weekend to be a success. Katie knew her classmates only thought of her as a shy air-head whose only real accomplishment had been winning a red ribbon at the Minnesota State Fair for her blueberry pie. No one except Melanie and James knew that Katie had graduated Summa Cum Laude or that her I.Q. was rated above 165.

Their twentieth reunion had been a huge disappointment. Personalities had been altered by divorce, death and distance. The attendees treated her almost as badly as they had in high school. Almost no one had recognized her, and those that did were not at all diplomatic in their harsh criticisms and negative comments on her appearance. She didn't expect anything to have changed much in ten years.

Looking at all of the empty chairs, Katie's spirits were beginning to deflate as quickly as the last helium-filled balloon rose to the ceiling. She was beginning to wonder if even those who had confirmed their reservation would bother showing. They had already lost several classmates to unfortunate deaths, and the big five-o was just around the corner. Emphasizing that it could be the last chance they might ever have to see their friends and former classmates, and citing the long list of gifts her husband's staff had provided for the attendees, Katie convinced many of her classmates that they just could not miss the one reunion she had worked so hard to organize.

Fortunately, her persuasive technique had worked, even with those who still lived in town and had never attended previous reunions. Katie had even managed to contact a few retired teachers, who were thrilled to have been invited and they all promised to attend. It was a good sign, Katie thought, but while the verbal acceptances had been easy, the actual checks were taking a lot longer to arrive.

Katie walked through the partition door to the adjacent room where the cocktail party was going to be held later that evening. She meticulously matched yearbook photos to name tags, and placed them alongside the guest book on the registration table at the entrance. On the left side of the room the bartender was setting up the wine and beer bar. On the right, the staff was preparing the plates for the hors d'oeuvres. On the center stage, the band was checking the sound system. Directly above them, in huge letters of blue and gold hung a huge banner that read; Welcome Class of 1972.

With the room beginning to look more festive, Katie started to feel a bit more confident. As she was heading to the lobby, her cell phone began ringing. The caller ID told her immediately who it was.

"Melanie!" She exclaimed, "Where are you?"

"Right here in the hotel. Surprise!"

Even though Katie has suspected her girlfriend was going to attend, she was both relieved and excited that her suspicions proved to be correct.

"I took the red-eye and checked-in a little while ago," Melanie said. "I was going to call you when I landed, but I couldn't get a signal until just now, and this is a brand new phone."

"I'm so happy to hear your voice, even with the bad reception that's not unusual for this part of the state," Katie said. "James has been trying to push for a new cell tower, but he's not getting much support."

"Well, it seems to be working fine now. Where are you?"

"I'm in the lobby, c'mon down. I was just leaving to head home, but I'll wait for you."

Several minutes later, the elevator door opened and the two women greeted each other like they were back in high school. They hugged, they screamed, and jumped around like teenagers. The other hotel guests were staring, but the girls didn't care.

"Has it really been twenty years?" Katie said, "Mel, you don't look a day older than thirty."

"Thanks, Katie. You can thank my hair stylist Sophia for that. She's a genius!"

Melanie glanced at her reflection in the hall mirror. Even though she had flown for three-and-a-half-hours to Duluth, then driven two more hours to the one and only five star hotel in Abbeyville, she looked wide awake. She was dressed in a revealing cotton sundress, not the usual Minnesotan attire, and was getting a few less than approving stares from the women guests and even some staff.

"I guess I should have worn something a bit more modest, but it was so damn hot when I got off that plane. I've forgotten how humid this part of the country is in the summer."

"Well, just as long as you don't stay outside too long without wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Our mosquitoes love imported blood, don't cha' know. I can't believe you're really here, or that you kept it a secret for all these months."

"Yes, I'm good at keeping secrets, don't cha know," Melanie imitated Katie's Minnesotan twang, with a hint of a tease.  "Actually, it was Stuart who convinced me to come, so you owe him one."

"Yeah, well he also convinced me to chair this thing, so I think we're even. Do you know if anyone else from our class has checked in yet?"

The sentence was more of an optimistic statement than a question.

"Not so far, but I did arrive early and went directly to my room for a quick shower. It took me awhile to find this place. The last time I was in Abbeyville, I stayed at the Best Western."

"Well, once Jack Gaynes became CEO of the paper mill, he needed a first-class hotel for his business clients, so he convinced the Hilton chain to come to our little town."

"I bet that went over well with his brother," Melanie said, nonchalantly.

"Not nearly as badly as when Jack married Wyatt's girlfriend," Katie replied. "Don't ya just love small town gossip?"

So, Jack married Brenda, interesting. Melanie thought. She immediately changed the subject.

 "I'm sure people will start arriving later, since the cocktail party starts at eight, and the main event isn't until tomorrow night."

"I hope you're right," Katie said, "Meanwhile, we have plenty of time to catch up during the cocktail party. James promised to be home from St. Paul before it started so he'd have time to change, but it might be late. The legislature called a special session this morning to vote on some kind of toxic chemical bill before the summer recess. As usual, our state legislature has perfect timing."

"You go on home and get ready. I'll stake out a seat at the bar and let you know who else arrives."

"Still playing spies, Mel?" Katie laughed. "Well at least now we have cell phones so we won't need to pass coded notes. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Katie left the hotel and Melanie took a seat at the lobby bar from where she had a clear view of the entrance and the elevator, but no one could see her. Like old times, she thought. Abbeyville was such a small, boring town, she almost wished she were a spy on an undercover mission.

 "I've been living in fantasyland for too many years," She accidently said aloud.

"I don't know," a man's voice responded. "I kind of like living in a small boring town. It's better on the heart."

It took Melanie a moment to recover her embarrassment when she realized the bartender had overhead what she had said. She found herself feeling a bit self-conscious when she noticed his amused smile that was attached to an usually attractive face. Unusual for Abbeyville, Minnesota, she thought.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for anyone to hear that. I'll have a glass of white wine, please...Don," she read his name tag.

He smiled politely and poured her order.

"Thanks. Not to be trite, but you don't look like you're the small town Midwestern type."

Melanie took a sip of her drink feeling the wine warm her cheeks or maybe it was the heat being generated by Don's gaze.

Don busied himself wiping off the counter trying not to think that Melanie's photos didn't even come close to how she looked in person.

"No? And what does a small town Midwestern type look like?"

"You know extra fat around the middle to protect from the winter cold for one."

She pointed to Don's abdomen.

"Well, it is summer, don't cha know. But you're right. I only moved here a few years ago. I think I put on a few pounds, but it's not that bad."

Don patted his abdomen, pointing out to Melanie who didn't need the gesture to notice that he didn't have an ounce of flab.

 "You waiting for someone?" Don asked.

"No, why?"

"I just noticed you keep staring at the entrance."

"Oh, that. I'm sort of spying for my girlfriend. It's our thirtieth high school reunion weekend and she's nervous that no one will show up." 

Melanie tried to keep her eyes on the door, but the view in front of her was a lot more interesting. Don was most definitely not from Abbeyville, no one with such deep blue eyes and strong muscular physique could live in a town where the most excitement came from hanging out at the local bar watching the Viking's lose another SuperBowl.

"You don't look old enough for this to be your thirtieth reunion," Don said with a grin.

"See, now I know you're not from around here. Our bartenders don't know how to compliment a woman, unless they want to get a bigger tip."

"And how do you know that wasn't my intention?"

"I think you have way too much class for false flattery, or ulterior motives. I'm from Los Angeles, and I can size up the type in about ten seconds and I've been here..." Melanie checked her watch, "fifteen minutes."

"And you're almost finished with that glass of wine. Want another?"

Melanie was going to decline, until she saw two very familiar figures enter the hotel. "Absolutely. Make it a double."

"Ah, I take it you recognized a few old friends."

"I wouldn't call them friends, exactly. That's Charles Haussman and Eric Kramer. I was hoping they wouldn't be here, but I'm sure Katie will be happy. Excuse me a second, I have to make a call."

"Sure."

Don refilled her glass then turned his back and pretended to write up Melanie's tab. He made sure she didn't notice that he was talking into a fountain pen.

"Stu," he whispered. "Haussman and Kramer just arrived. No, I don't see Gaynes, but I'll let ya know if he shows. I just met Melanie Tyler. You were certainly right about her. Gotta go."

Don put the pen back into his shirt pocket just as Melanie returned to her seat. She took a large sip of her drink, never taking her eyes off of the two men who were carrying on what seemed to be a very heated conversation.

"So, was your other spy happy with your report?" Don asked.

"Spy? Oh, you mean Katie. I'd say it was mixed. She was glad that there were people starting to arrive, but not so much that those two had arrived first. As you can imagine in a small town everyone has a bit of a past, and her and I go way back with those two."

"Old boyfriends?"

"Hardly. More like old adversaries. It's funny that you should mention spying. When Katie and I were in Junior High, we went on a little mission and really got even with those two. Even now, seeing them together makes my skin crawl."

"Well, before this place gets too busy, do you want to tell me about it. I'm a good listener, being a bartender and all."

"And a bartender never repeats anything he hears, right?"

Melanie wasn't sure she wanted to tell Don about her and Katie's dark secret, but there was something in his eyes that made her feel that she could tell him just about anything.

"Fill this up again."

She pointed to her empty wine glass.

"And I'll fill you in on all the details. But I have to warn you, if you reveal to anyone what I'm about to tell you, I'll have to kill you." Melanie smiled.

Don made a zipper motion across his lips and held up his right palm. "I swear no one will ever get me to talk."

And they certainly have tried, Don thought.

"Well, it all started the weekend of our Junior High Valentine's dance," Melanie began. "Katie and I were getting off the bus on our way to class..."