“Like you had anything to do with helping, Dorene?” Clayton Carlisle said. “You were too busy spreading rumors and sleeping around to be involved in anything so altruistic.”
“I most certainly did! I volunteered to work the dunking booth at the fire department carnival that year.”
Andrew cleared his throat and said, “Whoa, Dorene. You sweet-talked me into going into the dunking booth for you that night because you’d teased your hair into those big poofy bangs and didn’t want to mess up your Aqua-net. I don’t think that counts as helping your community in their time of need. And who are you to talk about people’s families when everyone knows the Lester family has more than its share of nut jobs and fruit cakes.”
“Wait,” Veronica said in a shocked tone. “Lester? You’re a Lester? Are you related to Tabitha Lester? She worked at Clay Cooks Jewelers and as a church secretary here.”
Lydia’s eyes popped wide, and she giggled and said, “Ooooh! There are more of them? Hank, is it true?”
Blinking innocently, Hank nodded as he shot an amused look Dorene’s way. Cassie giggled, despite the hurt Dorene’s words had caused. Maybe Dorene should’ve kept her fool trap shut.
“Yep. As it turns out, Nika, they’re first cousins.”
“I wonder whatever became of that hose beast,” Lydia said before snorting with laughter.
Travis said, “Last I heard from Val, she was still hooked up with…what were their names?” he asked, squinting as if he was thinking hard.
Trying to quell her enthusiasm, Veronica said, “Stubby Joe, Black Mike, and…and…”
“Big Dick!” Lydia provided, and laughter erupted in their vicinity around the buffet line.
Andrew arched an eyebrow and schooled his expression. “What would they name a baby? Stubby Black Dick Junior? That’s so wrong.” Andrew had a twisted, wicked sense of humor, and Cassie laughed so hard with everyone else she nearly peed herself.
“At least my mom wasn’t a drug addict!” Dorene sniped.
“Nope, but she was the biggest gossip in town,” Cassie replied. “She never could get her facts straight, a trait you seemed to have inherited. My mom has a gambling addiction, Dorene, which she overcame decades ago, not a drug addiction. And people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Miss ‘I Got Busted for Smoking Weed on Divine Creek When I Was a Minor.’”
Dorene scowled at their group and at Andrew and muttered, “Whatever,” and tugged her date from the serving line while he was still helping himself.
“Wait, baby, I wanted some more ’tater salad!”
“Come on!”
Clayton smiled at Cassie and patted her shoulder. “Ignore her. Your friends stand behind you.”
“Damn straight,” Hank added. “She certainly has no room to talk.”
They were being nice, but Cassie could already see Dorene’s cadre of old mean-girl friends congregating and murmuring around her in the corner. All her earlier levity drained away as if the plug had been pulled on it.
Cassie shrugged and welcomed the feeling of numbness, her only defense against such ugliness, learned from having a father who had always spoken his mind, regardless of those he hurt. Bill hadn’t been much better.
There had been times where she wished she’d ignored her dad’s expectation that she marry Bill Resendez, an up-and-coming businessman and former high school football star. But if she’d kept her promise to Samson and Ivan, that would mean she would’ve never had Joseph and Tamara, and she could never regret their existence. They were her shining lights.
Andrew nudged her gently with his elbow. “Come on, Cassie. We’ll just steer clear of her and enjoy our meal.”
The others distracted her with lively banter, and she tried to enjoy the evening. She wasn’t going to let that mean-spirited wench run her off. It was her town and her class reunion , too.
She did her best to ignore the music when Lady Antebellum’s “Dancin’ Away with My Heart” began to play. Veronica enticed Hank with a beckoning finger as the lights dimmed on the dance floor, and everybody chuckled when Hank spun Veronica into his arms.
Andrew tapped Cassie’s shoulder. “It sure is nice to see Mr. Responsibility found a good woman. Want to dance? Hardly anyone dances at these things, and I think this is the year we break the trend.”
“We talked to the DJ,” Travis said. “And made sure he knew we wanted to hear plenty of slow-dancing and two-stepping music mixed in with all the other pop music from the eighties they always play.”
“Thank you, Travis,” Cassie said as she rose, and Andrew took her hand and led her to the dance floor. She would have fun. She wouldn’t think about the last time she’d danced with Samson to that song, a few weeks before at Bunny and Joseph’s wedding.