Well, here goes nothing, Jillian Erran sighed as she locked her car door. She gripped her invitation with a death-grip in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking in her hands. Her steps were slow and steady – her high heels were killing her feet, but she knew they were expected. She smoothed her dress, then reached a hand up to brush a silvery hair away from her face. Another gray! she sighed. At forty-three, she wasn't exactly ancient, but certainly felt it some days.
As she grabbed her purse, her eyes fell upon her ringless left hand, and her heart gave a little lurch. Oh, Drew, I wish you were with me now. I miss you so much. She swiftly brushed away the tear that threatened to ruin her makeup. She was Jillian Erran, Broadway diva! Emotion was not really required for this role....
She straightened her skirt, and marched determinedly towards the gymnasium doors. A flood of memories rushed over her as she entered the school, its mismatched tiles swallowing her as they always had. A giant banner heralded, “Welcome, Class of 2010!” with giant silver and gold streamers and balloons. A wave of “oldies” hit her like a ton of bricks. I kissed a girl, and I liked it... taste of her cherry chapstick.... Jillian laughed. She hadn't heard that song in years!
She smiled her thanks to the two teenagers at the sign-in table, chuckling as they stared at her curiously. “Jillian Erran,” she said, reaching out to show them her invitation.
“Welcome back,” one girl said with a shy grin.
“Thank you,” Jillian replied with a smile and a curt nod. She turned towards the gym, taking in the familiar sight around her. The lights were dim, the orange and yellow tiles on the floor in sad disrepair. The wooden paneling of the walls had obviously seen its better days. As she entered the gym, she smiled at the faded English garden on the wall. She remembered how furious the athletic department had been when the Class of '09 painted the dreadful blocks for their prom....
“Jillian? Jillian Erran?” a voice called from a table a few feet away. Jillian turned towards the female voice, squinting in an attempt to recognize the owner. The woman's blond hair flitted about her face, which, despite a few wrinkles, was just as sweet as it had always been. She adjusted her glasses, and suddenly Jillian knew her.
“Kasey?” she laughed aloud. The two women embraced, and Jillian caught sight of the two other women at the table. “Oh, goodness, Sam and Jen, you're here, too!” She rushed to embrace them, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Where have you been?” she asked, grabbing a chair from another table.
The dark-haired woman chuckled. “We've been around here for many, many years, Jill... you're the one who is impossible to track down! The better question to ask is where have you been for the past twenty-some years?” She tucked a chestnut curl behind her ear, curiosity in her steady gaze.
The others nodded. “Well, you know me,” Jillian sighed, “Broadway-bound. I've been teaching and performing in New York for the past fifteen years or so. Obviously, you knew about college and then traveling abroad... I think that's when we lost touch. I spent so much time in so many different places before settling down in New York, I was almost impossible to get hold of.”
Jennifer, the other blond woman, smiled a bit. “You always said you wanted to get to Broadway.” She glanced at the others for confirmation, “And we always said you could.”
“Yes,” Jillian grinned, “You did.” A hush fell over the table for a moment, before Jillian cleared her throat. “Anyway, what about you?”
“Well,” Jen replied, “We've been working and living around here. Bill and I,” she said, indicating her husband, “Opened a wild-life shelter and petting zoo near Mazeppa. We're doing very well, actually. Our daughter will graduate from high school next year, and Matt, our son, is a freshman in high school now.”
“Wow,” Jillian sighed. “The last time I saw Alicia, she couldn't even speak.” Her words grew soft as she remembered the tiny infant she had so lovingly cared for while Jen was still recovering in the hospital. There had been so many cords and machines attached to the child that Jillian occasionally wondered if there was really a baby in the cradle.
Jen smiled, too, her eyes misting a bit as she, too, remembered. But she swiftly shook her head to clear of emotion, and said, “What about you, Kase? You're working on a new novel, aren't you?”
Kasey nodded. “Yes, the fifth in my most recent series. Jake has been most supportive.”
“And Ashleigh?” Jillian asked. “How is she?”
“Actually,” Kasey laughed, “She just returned from her honeymoon.”
“What? She's married?!” Jillian gasped. “No!”
“Married... and more,” Kasey chuckled, glancing at her husband.
“No,” Jillian groaned. “Oh, I feel so old! You are not old enough to be a grandmother!”
“Apparently Brad and Ashleigh think so!” Kasey laughed.
“Brad?” Jillian turned to Samantha, wide-eyed.
Sam laughed lightly. “Yes, my Brad. I guess they just figured they'd known each other for so long, they couldn't live without each other!”
Jillian slumped down in her chair, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Weddings and babies... this is ridiculous!”
“What about you, Jill?” Kasey asked quietly, laying a hand on Jillian's shoulder. “Is there any chance of wedding bells for you?”
The table was suddenly silent, as Jillian shook her head. “No,” she whispered firmly, “No. Cupid obviously is not very fond of me.”
Sam smiled sadly. “We were all very sorry to hear about Drew, Jillian. He was a good friend to all of us. We prayed and prayed they would find him, but...” her voice drifted off, and there was dead silence around the table as Jillian fought to maintain her fragile composure.
The moment was interrupted by a booming voice from the stage. “A big welcome to Mifflinburg Area High School's class of 2010! If you're like me and have started to lose your memory already, you probably have no idea who I am. I'm Noelle Keaton-James, your class president! And I've planned a few special events for tonight, beginning with an old-fashioned high school dance! So grab your husbands and let's dance! Let's start with a slow one – Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.”
She stepped away from the screeching microphone as the first strains of music flowed through the speakers. Sam, Jen, and Kasey smiled their apologies to Jillian as their grabbed their husbands, promising to return soon. Jillian smiled, too, but each chord stabbed at her heart, and pained her as though a knife had been thrust into her and was being twisted, ever so slowly and painfully....
This had been their song. She closed her eyes and could almost feel his arms around her, his head buried in her long, bronze hair. She could hear him whispering, “You look quite pretty-ful tonight,” in that endearing way of his. Each word of the song brought a fresh pang of grief to her throbbing soul. Because of you, I'll never stray too far from the sidewalk... Because of you....
This was a mistake. Why had she thought she could handle this? The memories she had worked so hard to bury rose from the pit of her soul, and it made her almost sick with grief. She rose from the table and quickly left the room. It was just that song, she'd return when it was over....
A gust of spring air hit her as she rushed out the door, and enveloped her in its sweet, warm embrace. She sank to the pavement, and the tears came, harder and faster than they'd come in years. She remembered the day he left for Afghanistan, how he'd lovingly kissed her and placed a tiny diamond on her ring finger. When I come home, he had promised. She rubbed the groove in her finger where the ring no longer sat and sobbed even harder. She remembered the day his mother had called, tears in her voice, explaining the Drew was MIA. She remembered the years of praying that he would be found, years that had worn her knees to the bone. They'd never found him... and she remembered an empty casket being lowered into the cold earth after ten long years of dreaming, taking her heart down with it. She remembered returning the next day with the simple gold band that should have been on his finger and swiftly burying it by the marble headstone. She'd wept then, too, bitter tears of dreadful sorrow and pain.
She wept just as hard now, her body convulsing with sobs. Surely, were he there, he would not tell her she was beautiful now, she thought. Then again, he might... he had always known how to make things right, to kiss away her pain... she would've given anything for just one of those sweet, healing kisses. But, no... never again... he was gone.
“Jillian?” She looked up at Kasey, standing in the pale moonlight. Kasey knelt somewhat gingerly, her forty-year-old knees cracking painfully. Jillian choked back a sob.
“Jill, we weren't thinking,” Kasey whispered softly. “We just hoped maybe, I don't know... maybe you would've met someone else, maybe you could be happy again. We miss the old Jillian, the happy, funny girl that I know is still in there... somewhere.”
“No,” Jillian sniffed coldly, her jaw set with determination. “No, that Jillian was buried a long time ago. Her grave is marked with a plaque and a flag up on Cemetery Hill. If you want that Jillian, you'll have to go there.”
Kasey sighed, but wisely said nothing. Her heart ached for her friend, but there was nothing to be done. “Don't give up, Jillian,” she said, “There is still hope. He was never officially declared dead or found. He could be looking for you as we speak.” She rose and brushed the dirt from her clingy black dress. “They're going to serve the meal soon, if you're hungry.”
“Thanks.” Jillian watched her friend walk away, her stomach churning. He could be looking for you as we speak....
“You've got to do this, Jillian Renee. You must,” she sighed determinedly, standing and brushing dirt from her own little black dress. She knew her eyes were red, and she probably had big, black circles under her eyes, but with the dim lighting in the gymnasium, hopefully no one would notice.
She ignored the looks her friends exchanged as she walked in and sat down. “So,” she said brightly, “Who else is here? I don't recognize many people.”
“Well,” Sam said, her voice equally cheerful, “You remember Kirstie and all her cheerleaders.” She indicated a snooty bunch of socialites, up to their ears in garish jewelry and gaudy colors. Jillian rolled her eyes and nodded, as Samantha pointed to another corner of the room, where several very tall men were laughing raucously. “And, of course, Jed, Wayne, and DeWitt and the rest of their friends. And over there....”
Sam's voice ran on, but Jillian didn't hear another word she said. Her eyes were fixed on three figures in the doorway. It can't be....
Her heart began to pound faster and faster as the gentleman struggled to enter the room. A tall, thin woman stood by his side, while an equally tall, dark-haired man supported the invalid's weak left side.
Jillian rose slowly, her heart thudding like a distant timpani within her breast. His light hair was disheveled, his thick red beard streaked with strands of silver. Despite the obvious pain his handicap caused him, his face was sweet, strong and handsome, his gray eyes were kind.
The world seemed to stop as he glanced around the room and his eyes met hers. Her heart suddenly seemed to cease its pounding, and fear froze her to the ground where she stood. But, as he began to come slowly towards her, recognition lit up his eyes, and she was overwhelmed with a fresh flood of tears as she shoved her way through the crowd. She reached him in little time, and their lips met, gently at first, then growing more and more passionate. The room and people disappeared as they embraced, tears streaming down both of their faces.
“Drew,” Jillian whispered tearfully, “Drew, I don't understand! You were... you were, well...” She couldn't bring herself to say it.
“Dead?” he chuckled sadly. “Yes, so I've been told.”
He laid a shaking finger to her lips, then silenced her with another kiss. “Hush, Jillian, let me sit down.”
“Drew, what's wrong?” she cried, grabbing a chair and helping him ease into it. The couple Jillian recognized as Jeff and Suzanne Riley faded into the sea of people, smiling sweetly at each other as they tactfully walked away. “What happened to you? Drew?”
He sat gingerly, wincing with pain as he did so. Her heart skipped a beat, anxiousness filling her expression. Drew....
“Jillian, Afghanistan was not kind to me. I was wounded in battle, badly wounded. I spent years in therapy recovering, and when I was finally able to be out of the house, you were nowhere to be found. I looked for you, and could not find you... I knew nothing of Broadway, nothing of you... no one knew where you were. I'd given up on ever finding you, my love...” his voice trailed off as he took her ringless left hand in his own shaking fingers. He glanced up at her, questions in his eyes.
“I waited for you, Drew,” she whispered. “I couldn't have married if I'd wanted to.”
“I love you, Jillian,” he sighed. “You've given up everything for me.”
“And always will.” Her tear-filled grin reached from ear to ear, as Drew gently kissed her tiny hand.
Another slow song began to play gently as Jillian helped him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around her, and the couple on the dance floor moved to the side. As they swayed gently from side to side like pathetic high schoolers, Jillian's heart was filled beyond overflowing. And, as Drew kissed her again, she knew that, truly, death would never stop true love.
The song's passion and intensity grew wilder and wilder with an abandon that was echoed in their hearts. When a man loves a woman....
