Page 23 of Stand

I’d like to see her try itin front of all these people. Mrs. Cavanaugh didn’t look convinced, but she let Ty lead them to a row of seats. He gave quick waves to a few people and shook hands with a couple more. Sam found herself walking between Ty and his mother.

Now Sam felt exposed. If anyone in this crowd recognized her, they would probably have the same reaction Ty had the other day: shock and a vague but bad memory. To distract herself, she examined the stage. They had a new logo strung up among the lights, but the stage carried the same school colors, the same drapery, even the same podium, she’d swear. The day of Megan’s graduation swept over her again and she took in a quick breath.

“You okay there, Indy?”

Ty’s hand was on her bare arm. The calluses on his fingertips burned her skin, brought her back to the present. She’d stopped in the middle of the row.

No point in sadness. No point in that knot in her throat when she thought of all the years Megan had lived without any parents, let alone Sam herself and her other siblings. Sam could just take the lesson that she must never rely on a man and move on.

Taking another breath, she was able to meet Ty’s eye. “Indy. Funny.”

He smiled. It was only on one side, but it was one more thing that made him inconveniently attractive. It had stopped being fun, this hint of longing in her.

Sam really needed to get out of this town. The mixture of sadness, guilt, and attraction was messing with her head.

Just as she was about to sit down, someone said, “Sam?”

She looked around.

“Sam!” the voice shouted, and she had a vague impression of oceans parting as a woman fought her way through the other parents to get to her. It took a moment to place the heavily pregnant body and plump face that finally came to rest in the row in front of her. “Oh my God, itisyou!” the woman screamed and grabbed her to her chest.

The hug was the reminder. “Janine,” she said, hoping she sounded happy to see her. By design she’d lost touch with her high school friends once she’d gotten away to college. Janine had been one of her partners in crime.

One of, if she were honest with herself, the mean girls. They hadn’t set out to be that way, or at least Sam hadn’t. What had begun as sarcasm and gentle digs had gotten laughs, made her interesting, cemented her popularity as long as she only directed her barbs in a certain direction. She didn’t think she’d been that bad. But seeing Janine’s face now and remembering Ty’s face on Sunday brought back a dozen small infractions of common human decency, and it was hard to smile at her.

“Where have you been!” Janine was saying. “Why didn’t you stay in touch? Did you hear?” and she turned to the side, though the pregnancy was blindingly obvious without the gesture. “Twins!”

“Oh, that’s great. Is your… partner here?”

“Yes, he’s just getting us a seat.” Janine waved over into the crowd. “So quick, tell me everything! Where are you living? Why are you here? I thought Thea’s kid was already in high school?”

That was when she noticed who Sam was standing next to. Ty’s hand was still on Sam’s arm. Her eyes and mouth went comically round. “Tyler?”

Ty didn’t say a single word. His mouth was a straight line. Sam cringed again, which must have shown on her face, because his look became glacial.

Janine’s attitude had brought back the dynamic Sam had been trying to forget—she and Janine on the inside, Ty left out, ignored, derided. His hand left her.

“Ty’s daughter invited me to come,” Sam said, standing tall. To protect Ty? That was ridiculous.

“Did she? But how do you…?” The cogs whirred behind Janine’s eyes. The small-town gossip mill, encouraged and sometimes started by women like this.

“We just met,” Sam said.

Janine’s eyes got even wider. “Oh! Well! Ty Cavanaugh, huh?”

“That’s right,” he said. His eyes were flint as he glared at Janine.

“Well… well. Good for you,” Janine said. “You’ve been divorced how long now?”

“We’re not dating!” Sam said too quickly. “Not that—”Dammit. She’d just added to that gossip mill. “My nephew and his son are friends,” she added. She couldn’t say Ty was “just a friend.” She didn’t know what the hell he was.

But she knew she had to throw Janine off the scent somehow. “I live in New Mexico now. I’m going home tomorrow. Who are you here for?”

Janine and Ty hadn’t broken eye contact. “My niece. You know, David’s kid.”

“David’s married?” Her older brother had been a notorious asshole. They’d had their own family issues—an overbearing father and a mother who drank. There had always been an excuse for their behavior, always a reason to take it out on the next dweeb in line. David had used his fists instead of doing things Sam’s way. Her ability to pretend people weren’t there had been Oscar-worthy.

“Divorced,” Janine said cheerfully. “Aren’t we all! Bill’s my second.” She looked terribly proud of herself and even winked at Ty. Sam could feel the tension running through him.