McKenna Homecoming

The invitation sat on Alec McKenna’s desk for a solid month, mixed with the junk mail and slick catalogs, before he opened the cream-colored envelope and withdrew the printed cardstock. He skimmed the top line: You’re invited to the ten-year reunion of James Madison High School. Then he took a step to the right—

And dropped the envelope into the trash.

His cousin Riley stepped over and fished the paper out of the circular bin. “Hey, this is tonight. You’re not going to go?”

“It’s a reunion. For high school. I can think of a thousand other things I’d rather do.”

“So can most red-blooded American males,” Riley said, chuckling. He had the same dark hair and blue eyes as the rest of the McKenna men. In fact, when Alec and Riley were younger, they’d been confused for twins. Even as adults, the close resemblance remained between the cousins. “But weren’t you voted most popular, or most desirable, or something equally embarrassing?”

“Something like that.” He waved it off. “Anyway, it’s all ancient history.”

“All of it?” Riley arched a brow. “What about Leah Andrews?”

Even after all these years, the name still sent a shock wave rippling through Alec. He hadn’t seen Leah since their graduation day, though he’d thought about her once or twice. Okay, a hundred times. He could still remember exactly how she’d looked—blond hair loose around her shoulders, shapely body swaying with each step—as she’d walked away from him.

That was how their relationship had ended. Tassles to the opposite side, caps tossed in the air, and then, just like that, Leah was gone. He’d thought they had their future mapped out—or at least the next four years of it—but Leah had thrown a detour into that road map. She’d left that day, not for their planned destination of college together in New York, but instead to California, to her father. She’d asked him to go with her, but at the idea of hospitals and doctors’ offices and instant responsibility, Alec had balked.

He hadn’t even realized what that decision had cost him until it was too late.

But it was all for the best. He hadn’t been the kind of guy who settled down, planted a garden in the backyard and had the neighbors over for a barbecue on Labor Day. Even now, he lived his life unfettered, free to come and go, whenever and wherever he wanted, though that lifestyle felt increasingly empty. And Leah, well, she was the kind of woman who made family ties into an art form.

Still, he felt guilty about how he had ended their relationship. If he had known then what he knew now, he’d have handled it differently.

“Leah and I were over years ago,” Alec said. “Hell, I don’t even know where she is anymore.”

“According to this,” Riley dangled the invitation, “she’s heading the reunion committee. So you know where she’ll be tonight. You should go, at least to find out what happened to her.” He held out the cream-colored cardstock to his cousin.

Alec took the invitation. His gaze dropped to the bottom, to a list of familiar names, but only one leaped out at him, as if it had been printed in bold:

Leah Andrews

The other women on the committee had their pasts in parentheses: Michelle (Wilson) Klein, Heather (Sloan) Bertram. But Leah’s name was the same now as it had been ten years ago. Did that mean she’d never married? Or that she’d kept her maiden name? And why did he still care?

He laid the invitation on the desk. “Well, I’m still not interested.”

“Think of what you’ll be missing,” Riley said.

“Just a lot of people who probably haven’t changed much in a decade,” Alec said.

He had changed, though, especially in the past couple of months. He’d become responsible—a fact that surprised even Alec sometimes. He’d probably still be the selfish commitment-phobe that he’d been in high school if it hadn’t been for his father’s accident. The crash was a culmination of a life of bad choices, and it had spurred a wake-up call for Alec. He’d realized that night that he needed a change, and, as if reading Alec’s mind, his great-aunt, Riley’s grandmother, contacted him the next day and offered him just that opportunity. Mary McKenna had always been more of a mother to Alec than his own, and he found himself saying yes to a new job and a whole stack of responsibilities. All of a sudden, his days had been filled with purpose, something he hadn’t even realized he’d needed until he had it. Now, instead of looking for the next party, Alec looked for the next opportunity to expand McKenna Media. “Maybe some people have changed.”

“Some sure did, cuz,” Riley said with a grin, giving Alec an easy slug in the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve got a date at the diner.” The grin widened into the kind of smile worn by a man who had fallen for a woman. Over the past few weeks, Riley had done nothing but talk about Stace, who worked at the Morning Glory diner in downtown Boston, and who had clearly stolen Riley’s heart.

After Riley left, Alec crossed to the window and looked out over busy Back Bay Street below his apartment. With Riley gone, the apartment seemed to echo, as if Alec alone wasn’t enough to fill the space. He stared awhile longer, watching the traffic pass, the people walk by, the dogs chase each other. Then the sun began to drop lower in the sky, washing the street with gold.

Alec turned away from the window to the desk. He reached for the invitation, intending to toss it once and for all. Then his thumb traced over the letters at the bottom, and his mind reached back a decade into the past. To a pretty girl with a wide smile and soft eyes, to laughter that sounded like music and days when it seemed the sun could shine forever. Funny, he thought, how his memory colored everything with a pastel brush, when he knew the reality was far less colorful.

Leah Andrews.

He stood in his empty apartment while the traffic roared by outside and debated, turning the invitation over and over. Put the past behind him, or see if there was still a connection. And, maybe, a way to make amends

.

***

Leah Andrews stood inside the ballroom doors, reviewing her list for the thousandth time. Decorations hung: check. Food on the buffet table: check. DJ in place: check.

The ballroom at the Marriott had been transformed into a blast from the past. Hip-hop and emo had just been coming into vogue ten years ago, and Leah had combined those trends by hanging faux bling around the room, tempered by black linens. She’d displayed band posters and added oversize blowups of select photos from the yearbook, a visual collage of memories and greatest moments. There were shots of the choir singing at the annual music festival, the football team celebrating their victory at the state finals, couples dancing at prom. To Leah, those days seemed a thousand years in the past, but maybe that was just because she felt like she’d lived a thousand years in the past decade. Things were finally looking up, though, and so, for the first time in ten years, Leah was making plans for her future.

“No wonder they made you the head of the committee,” Michelle said as she slipped into place beside Leah. The former cheerleader still had the trim figure of her youth, even after having two kids. She’d been one of Leah’s links back to life in Boston, and it had been nice to serve on the committee together and catch up with an old friend. “You are List Queen.”

Leah laughed. “I just like to be organized. I hate to forget anything.”

Michelle peeked over Leah’s shoulder at the clipboard in her hands. “‘Lemon slices for drinks. Extra toilet paper for restrooms. One carnation per vase.’ Okay, I think you need a twelve-step program.”

“It’s called making sure all the I’s are dotted and T’s are crossed. Nothing wrong with that.” Leah breathed easier with her lists and her check boxes. They gave her a sense of comfort, let her know she was on track. She’d always been like that, even back in high school. She was the one who never missed an assignment, never forgot an appointment.

“There is something wrong with it,” Michelle said, her green eyes kind and soft, “if those I’s and T’s come at the expense of a personal life. How many hours did you spend planning this thing, anyway?”

“Enough to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.” Leah dropped her gaze to the list again. It was easier to do that than to contemplate the weekends and evenings she had spent on the reunion, shouldering most of the responsibility herself instead of letting other members of the committee do the job. She’d let those to-do lists fill the long nights between work and sleep, because it was easier than thinking about her life plan, or lack thereof. A lot easier.

“Hon, it’s okay to take the next leap, you know.”

Leah shrugged. “I know.”

The DJ cued up the first song, and pressed Play. Hits from their teen years began streaming through the sound system. Michelle gave Leah a one-armed hug. “Look at tonight as a do-over. A restart. You had to put your post–high school life on hold for ten years. Pretend tonight is graduation all over again and you’re ready to go off on your big life adventure.”

Graduation. She remembered two things about that afternoon—the phone call that had changed Leah’s life, and Alec McKenna. She’d gotten up that morning excited to start their life together in New York. Before the day was out, she’d said goodbye to Alec and hopped a plane to California. By the time things had settled with her father in California, Alec had left for college, and she’d told herself she was glad that they were over. It was better that way.

“Oh, my God. Look who just walked in.”

Leah followed Michelle’s gaze, and just like that, the bottom dropped out of her perfectly organized, checklisted world. Because Alec McKenna had stepped into the ballroom. He stood in the doorway, tall, dark and even more handsome than she remembered, with that familiar lock of dark brown hair dusting across his brow and the confident stance that said he was a man who was sure of his place in the world. He hadn’t RSVP’d—the masochist in her had checked—and she hadn’t expected that he would attend, much less be one of the first to arrive.

“Remember, do-over,” Michelle whispered. Then she gave Leah a nudge in Alec’s direction.

Leah stumbled forward, but detoured for the punch bowl before she compounded her biggest mistake with another one. Alec McKenna was part of the past, and he was going to stay there. She was finally moving forward, and falling for him again was not part of the plan.

She hadn’t changed a bit. Alec’s gaze zeroed in on Leah the second he walked into the room. He could have picked her out of a crowd of thousands, even after all these years. She still had the same long blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, teasing along the zipper of her red satin dress. The same green eyes, wide and luminous. The kind of eyes that stayed in a man’s mind. The same tall hourglass shape, made even taller by the strappy black heels she wore, which showed off killer legs and a bright red pedicure.

When he’d let her walk away all those years ago, he’d told himself it was the right decision. The last thing Alec had wanted as he threw off the shackles of high school was a committed relationship where he had to be dependable, grown up. He’d wanted nothing more that day than to get out of Boston, get to college and start living his life. That had been their plan—head for New York, spend their days going to classes and strolling Central Park. An easy, bohemian life with no ties to anything or anyone for at least four years.

Alec’s father had lectured him over and over again about being responsible, about settling down—then lived in complete opposition to his words. After the death of his wife, George McKenna had spent the family money on one woman after another, one vacation after another, one house after another. That life of no responsibility caught up to him with the car accident. Yet even from the hospital George had been calling his girlfriends, making plans for another trip, another major purchase.

And up until that moment, Alec had been his father’s son to a T. Spending money, dating women, doing nothing of substance with his life. Then that day, when he’d sat by his father in the hospital, Alec had looked at his father, really looked at him, and finally seen a man who filled the empty spots in his existence with more emptiness.

That had been the turning point for Alec, the moment when the nights out at bars no longer held the same appeal. Maybe it was just the early hours and the long days Alec now spent working in an office. Or maybe it was

Him growing up. And with that came the desire to make amends to the people he’d hurt with his selfishness

people like Leah.

“Hey, Alec, how are you?”

Alec turned at the sound of Jim’s voice. His partner in crime in high school, and a good friend for years. “Good. You?”

“Same as always.” Jim grinned and gave Alec a light jab. “I’m about to head to the bar and get this party started right. You want to come?”

Alec started to say yes, the answer coming like a Pavlovian response, then changed his mind. “Nah. I’m good. I thought I’d circle the room. See who else is here.”

“Okay. You know where I’ll be.” Jim grinned, then walked over to the bar.

Alec bypassed the table of mementos, filled with old yearbooks, photos and trophies from their high-school glory days, detoured past the buffet table laid with steaming platters of appetizers, pausing only to say hello to old friends. He stopped in front of the punch bowl, telling himself it was just because he wanted a nonalcoholic drink, not because Leah was standing there, sipping from a plastic cup.