As Ryan pulled of to the old school, he felt a rush of nostalgia. The old brick building showed its age, and yet as he stepped through the main doors it seemed as if not a day had passed, as if he was again seventeen, pacing the halls unsure of his future and who he was.
He now worked as an engineer for a large company in the east; he was one of many employees, unknown to anyone higher up than the head of the department. This left Ryan feeling particularly unfulfilled in life. He had few close friends and he lived alone.
In all truth, it was a wonder to many, he knew, that he’d made it even this far. If there was a title for “least likely to succeed,” he was sure he would have been a main contender. He’d gotten involved with all the wrong people and made many wrong choices. He was a part-time attendee at best, barely managing to graduate the same year as his classmates.
Yet here he was, twenty years later, showing up for the high school reunion, feeling a stranger to his home town. Ryan wasn’t even sure what had brought him here, but as he pushed through the crowded, old gymnasium, he knew he was searching for a piece of himself that he had long since forgotten.
As the time began to drag by slowly, he was greeted by old acquaintances, always aware of the surprised curiosity that registered on their faces as he told them small tidbits about his life. No had believed he’d make anything of himself.
It was approximately an hour after his initial arrival that Ryan, nursing a beer at the back by the drink table, heard her laugh that sounded through the busy room, fleetingly familiar.
It was a sound that immediately brought him back to his youth in the west. Its airy quality reminded him of spring and the gory of new fallen rain.
As he stood listening for the melodic laugh that pulled at the worn strings of his heart, Ryan was aware of a male voice calling his name.
He turned, slightly annoyed at the interruption before he recognized the speaker. Adam Boyd, looking much more mature and refined than he remembered, inquired after him, and he recalled with a sense of guilt that he once treated the man terribly. As he spoke, his face showed soft lines forming around his eyes and mouth, as if he smiled often.
He continued on, realizing that Ryan didn’t wish to speak about his life, telling him about his job, his wife, who was expecting their second child, and his daughter, who had turned six in July. Sarah, he’d said as he showed him the small photograph. He decided there was something familiar about the soulful chocolate eyes.
Although he tried earnestly to pay full attention to the conversation, he was distracted by the occasional sound of that beautiful laugh, growing closer every time. It seemed as if Adam, too, paused to listen to the pleasing sound.
Moments later, his wife arrived, soft chestnut curls falling on her shoulders, a smile playing across her lips as she kissed her husband’s cheek. She turned very slightly, and it was then that Ryan noticed the unmistakeable dimples that surrounded her smile.
Elizabeth Harding. It was her laughter he had heard, reminding him of birds singing, or the haunting sound of church bells. Beth. They’d once been together, one spring long ago when they were young. Though she’d been gentle and kind and said the right things, he’d been young, and although it was no excuse, he’d left her, searching elsewhere to find himself.
He must have said her name, because she turned to see him, pausing a moment before recognizing him and pulling him in for a warm embrace. He hoped that neither Beth nor Adam would notice that he was left breathless. As they pulled apart, he looked into her eyes, noticing that Sarah was the perfect picture of her mother.
As the conversation flowed freely, Ryan felt bile rise up at the thought that she had married someone else. So easily he could picture their life together; Beth holding their child as tenderly as she held her hand to her swollen belly now. He realized with a sudden sadness that he had come here searching for her, hoping that she’d come doing the same.
That night as he stripped down and crawled under the sheets in his inexpensive motel room, he found that the bed seemed as cold and empty as he felt. For the first time he noticed that both the bed in which he currently resided and his own back home seemed too big for one.
As Ryan lay in the dark alone, he thought of Adam and Beth gazing tenderly into each other’s eyes, sharing everything in that simple glance. They would share it again, he knew, after they’d gone and checked on their sleeping daughter and retired to bed. He recalled with deep sadness, that Beth had once gazed into his eyes the same way, and he had not returned it.
