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walked straight across the room to slide into a chair right in front of that platform. There, he watched Stacy finish up an old Edwin McCain tune.
    Near the end of the song, as she lifted her head to sing the chorus for a final time, she saw him. In the midst of strumming chords, she broke off and gave him a little wave, then her fingers fell right back into rhythm. When she was done and a ripple of applause went through the room, Stacy leaned into the microphone.
    “Thanks, you guys,” she said softly. “We got started a little early, so I'm gonna take a short break and then we'll kick it up a notch.”
    Another round of applause followed her as she set her guitar on its stand and stepped down off the platform, striding over to Will. He stood up, drink in hand, but he didn't hug or kiss her. They had never had that kind of friendship.
    “Hey,” she said, almost shyly, though there was nothing shy in her gaze. It was just her way.
    “You're amazing.”
    She glanced at the ground for a moment. “Thanks.”
    “It's really nice to see you,” he said. “I hoped you'd be here, actually. Of all the people we went to high school with, there are only a couple I really wanted to see again. I'm glad you made it.”
    “Me, too,” she said, nodding. Then she reached out and took his hand, gave his fingers a little squeeze. “I'm going to do a long set, then take a break about eight-thirty or so. Can we talk more then? I want to know what's up with your life.”
    “I'm not going anywhere.”
    “Good.”
    Without another word she drifted off into the growing crowd.
    Will took a long sip of his Captain Morgan and then shook his head. He was waylaid several times on the way back to the table by people who had not necessarily been his friends in high school but had been casual acquaintances. Each time, he took a few minutes to be cordial and moved on, everyone assuring one another that they would speak more later that night, or the following day. It was going to be a long weekened, with plenty of time to get caught up.
    At last he returned to the round table where he had left his friends. Danny and Eric had disappeared, leaving the four women. Will took one look at Danny's wife, Keisha, and felt bad for her. She smiled politely, but Ashleigh, Pix, and Lolly had known each other for fourteen years.
    Will spotted the guys over at the bar talking to Nick and he was tempted to join them, but instead he slid into Danny's empty chair next to Keisha.
    “Hey,” he said, smiling as he set his drink on the table. “This weekend is probably going to be excruciating for you.”
    One corner of her mouth tugged upward in a playful half-smirk. “Nah. I love all you guys. We don't get to see you nearly enough, so this is a good excuse. It's all the rest of the stuff that I could do without. If it was just, you know, you guys, that'd be great. But . . . Eastborough High's Homecoming parade and football game?” Her eyes rolled up. “I think I might have a headache tomorrow.”
    “You can't!” Will said, eyes wide with feigned scandal. “You'd miss the steamed hot dogs and cotton candy and—”
    “And the cheerleaders,” Ashleigh said, leaning over to shoot Will an insinuating glare. “Don't forget about the cheerleaders.”
    Will pressed a hand against his chest and made his face a mask of hurt feelings. “You wound me. They're children, Ashleigh. Seventeen- and eighteen-year-old girls.”
    Lolly barked laughter. “Oh, please, like you won't be looking.”
    “At jailbait?” Will scoffed, letting an evil grin slip across his features.
    Pix gave Keisha a conspiratorial look and lowered her voice. “They'll all be looking at the cheerleaders. Don't think Danny's innocent.”
    Keisha waved her away. “Oh, honey, there's nothing innocent about that man.” She gave Lolly a pointed look. “Trust me. I know where he's been. And I know where he's going if he ever does more than look.”
    They all laughed at that and then the chatter