Page 2 of Just Past Two

Eyebrows raised, Sam looked to Abby for an explanation. “What?”

“No. Really?” She grasped for the memory through the annals of the past. She’d had so many encounters with campus security and the local police, they all ran together. “I swear, I don’t remember that.”

“Hand to God.” Phil elbowed James. “This was before you knew me. This girl holds a raging kegger during finals week. Our apartment is barely a block from the edge of campus. Middle of the party, she convinces me to go streaking.”

“Wait. Wait a minute.” Abby shook her head. The details were starting to come back. “If I remember, you didn’t take much convincing. You were always halfway naked at any given time.”

Phil paused. “Okay, true. True. But you definitely put me up to it, saying you’d do it if I would.”

Oh, shit. It was this story. Abby started to hold up a hand to stop him, but Phil just kept going. “So you go, run butt-ass naked through the center of campus and back, everybody loves it, right? I mean, obviously. And I get literally one block from our home and the cops pull up, arrest me. Coach was furious. I spent the next two weeks running suicides.”

Phil was already laughing before the end of his story, and James joined in along with Sam, leaving Abby standing there chuckling. Ah, shit, that wasn’t exactly the way she’d wanted to open this reunion. They were supposed to ease in with some of the less disastrous stories, not her running bare-ass naked through campus.

Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. “You never told me this. Streaking on campus?”

“That’s not even the half of it.” Phil shook his head. “We should get drinks. Come on, James, give me a hand. What can I grab for you two?”

“Um. Wine? Whatever red they have. Thanks.” Abby looked to Sam, who asked for the same.

“Wine?” Phil shook his head. “Damn, things really do change, don’t they?”

He disappeared a moment later toward the bar with their drink order, leaving them alone, and Abby exhaled shakily. “Okay, so, you might get your wish for some stories about me.”

“Yeah, I’m picking up on that.” Sam grinned, his expression teasing and not at all upset. Thank God. He managed to always look so put together, with his wavy dark hair and perfect jawline, clean-shaven for the occasion, filling out a slim-cut suit with only a hint of those beautiful, lean CrossFit muscles. He cleaned up like a GQ advertisement. This wasn’t the kind of man who probably went streaking in college, or who dated a few dozen people in a long string of short-term relationships that never went anywhere, or who had nearly flunked out of college by being an irresponsible fuckup. She knew Sam’s past. He was the valedictorian of his high school class, studied architecture at Cornell on a near full ride, and was now a star architect in his firm. He was settled, professional, brilliant, and for some reason that occasionally eluded her, madly in love with her, and they’d somehow ended up in a romance and marriage that was—without a doubt—the best thing to ever happen to her.

“Hey.” Sam shook her by the shoulders. “You tuning out on me? Earth to Abby.”

“I’m sorry.” Abby flashed him her best flirtatious grin. “I was just thinking how gorgeous you are.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a likely story. Probably thinking of more of your college adventures that you’ve been keeping from me.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“For your own good, I swear.” Abby gestured to the buffet. “I think you’re in for the long haul of stories about me getting into trouble. You want to go get some food to go with these drinks?”

Sam laughed. “You’re damn right I do.”

They brought plates of finger foods over to a table with Phil and James. She obviously wanted to see more people at this reunion than just those two, but they were a nice place to start, since Phil had been a good friend on and off throughout her years at school. At least most of the stories Phil could tell would be stories about parties. He was gay, so they’d never slept together, and hopefully they could avoid that entire realm of Abby’s past altogether.

Phil handed a glass of wine to each of them. “So tell me about yourself, Sam. What do you do? How did you and Abby meet? How long have you been married?”

“Babe.” James put a hand on Phil’s arm. “Give it a rest, all right? Let them get a word in edgewise.”

“I’m an architect at Dooney, right here in Mapleton.” Sam sipped his wine. He looked totally at ease here, even though he didn’t know a single person, and Abby could fall in love with him all over again. “Abby and I met at a pottery class she was teaching at the community center. It turns out I’m shit at pottery, but I had the hots for the teacher, and we’ve been together ever since. Married seven years this coming April.”

“You do pottery?” James asked Abby.

Phil tapped his finger on the table, looking like the memories were slowly coming back. “Yeah, you were an art major, right?”

“Still doing pottery. Just as a hobby now, though. Not really interested in making a living at it. Finest way to ruin a hobby is to turn it into a job.” Abby had definitely sat at that crossroads for a while after her junior year internship, looking at an art degree in a field that she had been slowly starting to hate. “I switched majors, and now I’m an MRI tech. Learned to love art again when I didn’t have to do it full time.” She raised her glass in a toast. “You two have been together since college?”

“Straight through. Ten years now.” Phil made love eyes at James, which was adorable. “We got married basically right out of college.”

“And, great news.” James pulled out his phone, tongue poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as he scrolled through pictures. He triumphantly turned his phone around to show them a photo of a toddler, all large blue eyes and too much curly hair. “This is Liam. We’ve just been approved to adopt him.”

They cooed over the adorable baby, and that shifted the conversation more to James and Phil, their jobs, their struggles buying a house, the minutiae of life going from age twenty-two to thirty-two as they grew into full adulthood. She’d grown into full adulthood, too, mostly by cutting ties with her college self and starting anew with Sam, and sitting here bridged the divide in a weird way. As conversation waned, their plates emptied, and finally Abby turned to Sam.

“I love this song. Do you want to dance?”

Sam knew she didn’t love this song, but he could also take a hint, so with a cordial goodbye to Phil and James, they made their way out to the dance floor, and he swept her smoothly into his arms.