Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 28

I stand and he seems surprised by my combined bulk and height given the size of my car. He smartly keeps his eyes to the ground as I wave off the other valet and open Lindsay's door for her. Once we have her bag, we check in.

When the clerk asks for her credit card, I beat her to it and give him mine.

She starts to protest. "You bought the tickets. Let me pay for your room," I murmur into her ear.

She leans into me, signaling I've won this battle. She surprises me and asks for two room keys, one for each of us. As we walk to the elevator bank, we pa.s.s the line of people waiting to go into her reunion and she tenses.

Once the elevator doors close, I pull her into my arms. "Are you all right?"

"Nervous," she sighs.

I kiss her temple. "I've got you."

After dropping her overnight bag in the room, we both take a quick glance in the mirror.

"Still lickable?" I tease, straightening my tie.

She bites back a smile. "Most definitely. You'll be fighting off the ladies once we're down there."

"Me?" I hold open the door. "You should have seen the effect you had on that poor valet."

Her brows furrow. "What?"

I can't help it. I laugh. "There's a decent chance he's penning a sonnet to you as we speak."

"Stop it." She blushes.

Draping my arm across her shoulders, I press the elevator b.u.t.ton. "I'm telling you the truth."

She's laughing as the doors open and I'm happy for the distraction it's given her. She is nowhere near as tense as she was on the way up. The line to enter her reunion is shorter now. I tuck her into my side as the couple in front of us glances back a couple times.

I'm sure they're curious which of us is their cla.s.smate. From the way they looked back, I could tell they weren't sure. When we reach the ticketing table, Lindsay pulls two tickets from her small, colorful bag.

The woman behind the table doesn't react to Lindsay's name, just takes her tickets, and pa.s.ses her a nametag. There's a small snapshot of her senior picture on it. She giggles pa.s.sing it to me so I can get a closer look.

She looks like a younger version of the Lindsay I first started training. Her beauty still clear to me, even then. I peel the backing off the tag.

"Where?"

She glances down, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure where."

She has a point. Where am I supposed to put it, on her b.o.o.b?

After a moment, she grins and holds her bag up. "Put it on the back of this. I can lift it whenever anyone asks my name."

I smooth the tag across the back of her bag, pausing to press my lips to hers. "Your wish is my command."

The reunion is being held in the ballroom.

Round tables with layered black and silver tablecloths surround the dance floor, reminiscent of my high school prom. There are also black and silver balloons everywhere. I'm taking a wild guess those are the school's colors.

We find an empty table to sit down. A server arrives shortly after to confirm whether we are getting the chicken or vegetarian option.

After she leaves, I turn to Lindsay. "Everything you imagined?"

She shrugs, placing her elbows on the table, and resting her chin in her hands as she glances around the room. "I was nervous it would be crowded."

"How big was your cla.s.s?"

She sits up, tapping her fingers lightly against the top of the table as she thinks. "Does two hundred sound normal?"

"I went to a smaller school. If I had to guess there were a hundred kids in my graduating cla.s.s."

She frowns. "Maybe I've exaggerated it in my mind over the years. I remember it being so crowded."

"Mind if we join you?"

We both look up at the couple approaching the table. I glance at Lindsay and am relieved to see her nod and smile.

As the couple sits, they introduce themselves as Brenda and Carl.

"I'm Luke and this is Lindsay."

"So which of you went to Hillsbourgh?"

Lindsay reaches for my hand and I s.h.i.+ft my chair closer to hers. "I did."

"You look familiar," Brenda replies. "Did you take French with Mr. Adams senior year?"

Lindsay's eyes widen. "I did. I'm so sorry I don't remember you."

Brenda laughs. "I'd be shocked if you did. I had thick gla.s.ses, braces, and blonde hair." She fluffs her red curls.

Lindsay leans forward. "I do remember you. The red suits you. Have you been a red head since after graduation?"

She shakes her head. "Only the last couple of years. I love it though. If I had your complexion, I might have stayed blonde. I always loved your hair."

"Thank you." Lindsay blushes.

Not long after, another couple joins our group. This time the boyfriend is who went to their school.

A couple of times Lindsay seems uncertain of what to say. I help her out by mentioning Coco or encouraging her to talk about her graphic design work.

Watching her holding her own, makes my heart swell. She had built this night up to be something she was afraid of, but here she is having a good time.

During a lull in the conversation, I whisper in her ear, "How are you doing?"

She leans closer to me so I wrap my arm around the back of her chair. "This isn't so bad. Are you having fun?"

I kiss her temple. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

Seeing her here, with the people she went to high school with makes me wonder what prompted her to drop out of college. There had to have been something.

After all of the dishes are cleared, the lighting is lowered and the background music evolves to top forty music. Both of the couples that sat with us get up to dance.

"Want to dance?"

She cringes. "I'm not sure."

"It's your night. We don't have to dance here if you don't want to, but will you save a dance for me when we get back to your house?"

Her eyes light up. "Sure."

We watch couples dance, my arm still draped around the back of her chair. She moves her chair even closer so she can lean against me.

I notice some folks heading over to the other side of the ballroom where it looks as though there are pictures covering the far wall.

I nod in that direction. "Did you want to go look at that picture wall?"

She shakes her head. "I'm good here, if that's okay?"

"Here's perfect," I reply.

"Oh, my G.o.d, Lindsay Palmer, is that you?"

A woman approaches our table. In the past, from time to time, I've felt Lindsay tense up or stiffen in my presence. That was nothing compared to how still she is now. Her hand holds mine tightly as she turns to stone beside me.

"It's me, Missy Pollard, well Hughes now." She points behind her. "Surely you remember Hank."

Lindsay smiles tightly, nodding, but not breathing a word.

"And you are?" Missy leans closer to me.

Based on Lindsay's reaction to this woman, I decide to keep my reply brief. "I'm Luke."

"So, how do you know Lindsay?" She doesn't let me finish as her mouth drops and she grabs my arm. "Holy s.h.i.+t. Are you Luke Jamieson from that show with all the fat people?"

I don't argue, which she takes as a yes and turns. "Hank," she yells. "Hank, come here."

As her husband approaches, Lindsay stands, pulling her hand from mine, and whispers, "I can't."

She hurries to the exit. I start to stand as well to follow her but Missy still has my arm. "Are you her trainer? She has put on a ton of weight."

What?

Before I can ask what she means by that, her husband joins us. "Hank, look; it's that trainer from that show. Take our picture together."

I start to back away. "I should go find Lindsay."

Hank's head snaps up. "Lindsay Palmer?"

Missy glares at him while I glance between them, confused. "Yes, she's my girlfriend."

Missy's mouth drops open. "You aren't her trainer?"

I'm not about to further complicate things by trying to explain that I'm both.

She tilts her head to Hank. "She looks nothing like the pictures on her website."

Her website?

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She squints at me. "You're her boyfriend. Haven't you seen her blog?"

I've known she has a blog, but never thought about it. "I need to go find her."

I take off, hearing Missy complain that we never took our picture as I walk away. I'm a.s.suming Lindsay went up to the room, so after getting my hand stamped at the door so they'll let me back in, I hurry to the elevators. While I wait for one, I pull out my phone and open a web browser.

I can't remember that name of her blog so I Google her name. I'm not surprised to see it's the first link that pops up. An elevator arrives and I click the link as I step onto it. Either being in an elevator or the chance that my signal is weak keeps the page from loading until I'm on our floor.

I'm about to close the browser and stop worrying about it when the first picture pops up. I freeze in the middle of the hallway.

This must be some kind of joke.

The woman in the picture looks like Lindsay and is wearing something I could see Lindsay wearing. She's also borderline skeletal. That isn't her.

Shaking off my confusion, my feet move again, propelling me to our room. I pause outside the door to look at another picture. The similarities are uncanny. It makes no sense.

I continue to hold my phone in one hand as I use my keycard to open the door with the other. Lindsay is right inside the door, and jumps back as I enter.

Her hands are shaking as she tries to smile. "Are you all right? Did that woman upset you?"

She gulps. "It's a long story."

I don't know why but I hold out my phone to her. "Who is this woman on your site?"

When she sways, I drop my phone to steady her.

Pulling away, she moves across the room. "I can explain."

I pick up my phone. "She looks just like you."

She drops her eyes to the floor. "She is me."