She wove through security, taking the fast-track service that came with a first-class ticket, and made her way to the terminal for her departing flight.
Airports had become her second home. Between guest spots on Chef Monroe’s weekly show, talk shows, and special events where she would slave away for hours or days on end for a charity event in a foreign country, Zoe was a seasoned traveler.
Her frequent flyer miles almost always upgraded her ticket, and when they didn’t, she would spring for first class if the flight was longer than a couple of hours. No one wanted to resemble a sardine after traveling if they could avoid it.
Zoe could afford to avoid it.
She stepped into her designated window seat, tucked her purse in the space provided in front of her, and slid the lap belt over her hips.
The flight attendant handed her a glass of wine before the coach passengers boarded. For the longest time, Zoe thought she’d have a silent trip home, until halfway through the coach seating a middle-aged man sat beside her. He offered a quick hello and attempted to tuck his carry-on in the overhead compartment.
He sat with a little flourish. “I hate Dallas traffic.”
“Could be worse,” she told him as she glanced out her window at the baggage handlers loading the plane.
The man wore cotton pants and a T-shirt with a parka. He looked nothing like those in Dallas. “Compared to New York and LA . . . yeah, could be worse. But not much.”
“I take it you don’t live here.”
“Couldn’t pay me to,” he told her. “Live just north of Eugene. Ten acres of silent, wooded bliss.”
Dallas wasn’t Eugene—that was certain. But both cities had their share of traffic and issues. In terms of her line of work, Dallas offered more.
Even if the heat of the summers was starting to wear on her.
Even if she was itching to find another green pasture to explore.
Even if the moist, cool weather of the Oregon coast sounded ideal after years of avoiding it.
Even if . . .
It wasn’t long before the captain asked that everyone fasten up, prepare to depart Dallas, and for Zoe to lose feeling in her toes from holding her breath.
She didn’t mind flying . . . it was the destination.
Her Dallas hating, Eugene loving seatmate offered a look of sympathy . . . or maybe he was worried she’d puke on him. “You okay?”
“I’m . . . it’s been a long time since I went home.”
He wiggled eyebrows as the engines on the plane started to speed up. “Family drama?”
He had no idea. Her mother and siblings had actually been supportive over the years. Outside of her youngest brother, who was doing his level best to join her father in prison, everyone else stayed on the sidelines of her life and didn’t ask for much.
She’d flown the lot of them out to visit her two years ago. It was then she realized that a two-bedroom apartment wasn’t nearly enough space to entertain a family. How on earth had she grown up in a home, a double-wide, with only one bathroom and two bedrooms?
She’d stayed away from home . . . spent her time at Miss Gina’s . . . Luke’s house . . . even Jo’s when her dad was working. There was the occasional sleepover at Mel’s, but as much as her BFF lived with the appearance of money, the place wasn’t inviting in the least. Seemed the only one surprised by the Bartlett divorce was the lone daughter.
Zoe couldn’t wait to see Mel.
She knew from the few e-mails and even fewer phone calls that Mel was struggling.
In ten years Zoe saw Mel only once, shortly after Hope was born. One look at that arrangement and Zoe knew the relationship between her and Baby Daddy wouldn’t last. As much as Zoe wanted to perform a solo intervention, Mel wasn’t going to listen. And how could she? She was a new mom . . . jobless . . . listening to a jerk. The news of her divorce made Zoe happy, even if it was completely non–politically correct to feel so.
Somewhere over Colorado, her seatmate gave up on small talk, ate the first-class lunch, and plugged into the online movie selections.
Zoe watched the Rockies from twenty-five thousand feet and found her smile.
The most likely to never leave River Bend was returning home for her ten-year class reunion in a first-class seat from a city much bigger, a place more full of opportunity than the town she’d left. Much as she hated herself for it, she looked forward to rubbing a few noses in her success.
Those she cared about, the ones who actually kept her away . . . she didn’t want to rub in anything.
Some people she would like to avoid.
Avoid the pain of seeing them . . . seeing his eyes . . . feeling the disappointment all over again.
CHAPTER FIVE
The noise in R&B’s was greater than most nights. The influx of graduates from ten years past filled all the stools at the bar . . . making Josie run like a wild woman with trays of drinks without a passing smile to the regulars.
Not that it mattered, Wyatt and Luke sat at one of the high-top tables in the thick of the crowd. Josie kept the longneck beers coming, didn’t even ask if they needed another round as she handed them off while she passed by.
“This is crazy.” Wyatt looked around the standing room only space.
“Happens every year.” Luke tipped his bottle back and kept glancing at the door.
“You recognize most of these people?” Wyatt asked.
“Some.”
“Friends . . . enemies?”
“Not a lot of enemies. Can’t say they were all friends.” Luke focused his attention back on Wyatt. “The problem and curse of a small town is everyone knows everyone. There isn’t one secret that everyone doesn’t know, and they never let them die. Especially ten years later.”