Class Reunion by Linda Hill

against the tree once more.
    “I must be the most incredibly naive person here.” She spoke to the branches of the tree before turning her attention back to Heather. “Does everyŹone here know about me and Sheila?”
    Now it was Heather’s turn to grow embarrassed as she shifted uneasily. “Pretty much,” she shrugged. “If they were paying any attention.”
    Jennifer’s jaw clenched as relief and anxiety battled. Relief finally won out. There was no need to pretend. “And you were paying attention?”
    A smile crept onto Heather’s lips. “I was.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “Maybe you’ve forgotten. But we talked nearly every day in high school.”
    “After practice. Of course I remember.”
    “You were obsessed with her.”
    Jen’s eyes narrowed at this information. “Was I?”
    The blond head nodded. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”
    “No. Please. This is good for me to hear. My memory about some things is kind of clouded.” She battled the confusion she was feeling.
    “I only found out last night that Sheila had married Bobby. Did you know?”
    An image from Sheila’s wedding flashed in Jen’s mind, and the absurdity of the whole story struck her. “I was her maid of honor.” She nearly giggled.
    Heather’s jaw dropped. “No. How could you?”
    “I don’t know.” Jennifer shook her head. “Crazy, huh? It’s a long story.”
    Heather regarded her closely. “And it’s a short weekend.”
    Jen laughed. “Remind me to tell you about it when you and Amy come down to visit.” She said the words even though she didn’t believe for a moment that it would ever happen.
    “I will.” Heather wrinkled her nose and stretched out her legs. “We should probably be going. It’s getting late.”
    Jennifer agreed that it was, and slowly unwound her stiff body to stand. They walked toward the parkŹing lot slowly and companionably, continuing their conversation as they went. It didn’t occur to Jennifer that she should turn back and say good-bye to the others.
    The drive back to Sally’s house was short. As they rounded the corner of her sister’s street, Jen found herself groping for something to say, something to solidify the closeness she was feeling.
    “Thanks for fixing me up. And for the conversation,” she said awkwardly. “I enjoyed it.”
    “Actually, I’m the one who needs to thank you,” Heather replied.
    “For what?” Jen pointed out her sister’s house.
    “For being so nice to me back in school.” Heather’s face grew hot as she pulled into the driveŹway. “For kicking the shit out of Danny Johnson back in grade school. For not calling me Tracks. For talking with me every day after practice.” She turned off the car’s engine but continued to stare straight ahead through the windshield.
    Each word caused Jennifer’s heart to constrict a little more. She turned to face Heather, who conŹtinued to avert her eyes, her jaw clenching.
    “You don’t have to thank me.” Jen reached out, lightly touching Heather’s elbow.
    “Yes, I do.” Heather’s blue eyes were bright as they met hers. “It’s one of the reasons I came back. Closure, remember? I was hoping that you would be here. I wanted a chance to tell you that you made a difference in my life. You were my friend. So thank
    you.”
    Jennifer searched the other woman’s eyes, trying to think back and remember what impact they might have had on each other’s life. Day after day they had sat together on those bleachers. Day after day Jen had poured her heartaches out. But Heather had never spoken of her own. The realization came to Jennifer suddenly, and she felt ashamed.
    “I didn’t do anything special.” She realized she still held Heather’s elbow, and she dropped her hand to her side.
    “But that’s the point. You were just you.” Heather seemed to gather herself, gaining confidence. “And while I’m on a roll, I may as well take a hint from your sister and admit that I had the most