A Reunion to Remember Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  About the Author

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Jo Adams and Rhonda Black reconnect after ten years apart. Rhonda’s twin daughters were Jo’s best friends in high school. With the significant age difference, Rhonda cannot believe Jo, twenty years her junior, will want to be with her long-term.

  Jo knows what she wants, but can she convince Rhonda she’s in this relationship for the long haul?

  Rhonda feels caught between a desire to explore a new opportunity for love and the daughter whose response she does not understand. Can she and Jo navigate the reactions and responses of Rhonda’s family and deal with their own fears and doubts to find a lasting love?

  A Reunion to Remember

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  A Reunion to Remember

  © 2016 By TJ Thomas. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-535-0

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: April 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Jeanine Henning

  Acknowledgments

  My enduring thanks go to Len Barot and Sandy Lowe for giving me the opportunity to publish with Bold Strokes Books. I would also like to thank all of the hardworking people at BSB for helping to market and release quality books year after year. My fellow BSB authors are a welcoming and inspirational community. I learn so much from you and am proud to count you as friends.

  To all my family and friends who have humored me as I express my exuberance at having a novel published, thank you for listening. Thank you to my sister, Ginny, who helped foster my imagination by insisting we play all those make-believe games as children. My brother, Paul, probably isn’t even aware he helped inspire me to be a writer, by being one himself, when we were young. If it was cool enough for him, it was certainly something I wanted to try. This would be a much longer list if I tried to thank everyone in my family individually, but to all of you, both my family of birth and my family of choice, thank you for always being there.

  From inception to submission, this book was more than six years in the making. I had the help of a long list of readers throughout this process, and each one helped me inch closer to a story worthy of these characters. If I forget to mention anyone by name, please know you are not forgotten from my heart. From those who read the first draft—Alex, Diana Stephens, Heather T, KT, Sue Gonda, and Susan E. Cayleff. …To those who read the version I deemed appropriate to submit for publication—Edwina Trentham, Jackie Katz, JM, and Amy “Teeps” Teeple, and to Elle, who read every version—I am forever grateful for your constructive critiques of early drafts of this story and your encouragement along the way.

  Special thanks go to my editor, Cindy Cresap, who taught me a great deal about the craft of storytelling. Her helpful and humorous feedback was instrumental in making this book what it is today.

  Most importantly, thank you to my wyf, Elle, for her inspiration, patience, and love. She endured countless hours of conversation about fake people, gave insightful feedback every time she touched the story, and above all, believed in me from the very start. Our love propels me every day to be and do better.

  Dedication

  Elle, I love you this much

  (…………………………………………………………)!

  PROLOGUE

  Jo was riding high on her team’s latest victory. She was thrilled because it had been a tough win. She worked hard to become a starter on varsity as a sophomore, and today she felt like she’d proven herself. Her teammates congratulated her on the awesome save she’d made in the final twenty seconds of the game that helped seal the victory. She couldn’t wait to recount the win to her mom.

  She pulled the screen door open. Several things assaulted her senses at once. The smell of her dad’s favorite whiskey stung her nose. The blaring TV made her cringe, and at the sight of her father’s jacket hanging by the door, her stomach dropped. In the next second, she turned and tried to catch the door before it slammed shut. She was too late. The loud bang stilled the blood in her veins, and she froze in place. Things had been okay for a while. Jo couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, even for a moment, and let her guard down as she entered the house.

  “Joanna Elizabeth Adams, come here!”

  Jo thought fleetingly about ignoring her father and going right back out the door. But she knew it would be worse if she did. She let her bag drop to the floor with a soft thud and walked into the living room. She glanced briefly at her dad to see where he was. He stood by his recliner. This is going to be bad. Jo looked down at the floor and waited.

  “How many fucking times have I told you to keep it down while I’m watching a game?”

  “A lot.”

  “And still you come running into the house slamming the door.”

  “It was an accident. I didn’t know you were home.” Jo knew as soon as she spoke she’d said too much.

  “Where else would I be? This is my fucking house. Do you mean to tell me when I’m not home you run around slamming the goddamn doors?”

  Jo didn’t answer. There was nothing she could say that would prevent the inevitable.

  Tension filled the room. The volume still blared on the TV, but the silence between them grew. Finally, her dad spoke again. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  A steady stream of ideas ran through her head. Jo thought about saying she was sorry for slamming the door. She considered apologizing for interrupting his game. But she said nothing. She heard her mother step into the room, bu
t she didn’t turn to look her way. She looked up, directly at her father who now stood only two feet from her, and said, “I’m sorry you’re home.”

  Jo tried to relax her body as she knew from experience it made it hurt a little less, but she was not prepared for what came next. She saw a flash of light glint off her father’s ring just before the back of his hand made contact with her cheek. Then she felt the sting as it sliced her lip. She heard her mom gasp as she stumbled backward. As she struggled to find her balance, her mom said, “Jo, please go upstairs.”

  Jo turned. She saw the sadness and apologies that wouldn’t be uttered in her father’s presence on her mother’s face. As much as she wanted to stand up to her father for once, her mother had asked her to do something, and she knew if she stayed, it would be worse for both of them. Turning her back on her dad was another mistake. Jo felt her dad shove her. As she fell at her mom’s feet, she heard him say, “Get out of my sight, you little bitch.”

  She grabbed the bag she’d dropped, ran up the stairs to her room, and shut the door behind her. Closing the door wouldn’t block out the sounds completely, but it would help. She lay motionless on the bed. She could hear her father’s angry rant and her mom’s muffled pleas.

  Eventually, the noise downstairs subsided, and an eerie quiet took its place. Since the TV was off now, Jo guessed her dad left to finish watching the game at the bar, where he spent most of his time. She briefly considered going to check on her mom, but if somehow her dad were still home, she’d just make it worse. She had already caused enough trouble for her mom for one day, she wouldn’t add to it now.

  She stayed put and thought about how she’d explain the swollen lip Monday morning. Every time her father had hit her before, he was careful to do it somewhere that wasn’t visible. She figured if she hadn’t provoked him, he probably would have done the same this time. Deep down she knew it wasn’t her fault. But that didn’t make it any better. Sometimes it didn’t matter what she did or didn’t do. She didn’t always know what exactly would set him off. He was erratic, and his mood changed in an instant sometimes. She was tired of all the lies, so tired of hiding what he was. She refused to cry. She learned a long time ago that wouldn’t help anything.

  Sometime later, Jo heard a soft knock on her door and watched as it opened slightly. Her mom leaned in and asked, “Is it okay if I come in?”

  “Sure.” Jo scooted up on the bed to give her mom somewhere to sit.

  She lifted Jo’s chin, turning her face to both sides as though she was evaluating the damage. “I bet that hurts,” she said.

  Jo shrugged. “It stings.” Jo didn’t see the point of telling her mom that her face hurt like hell. There was nothing she could do about it anyway. Besides, even though she couldn’t see her mom’s injuries, she was certain they were there, given how carefully she was moving.

  “Here, this will help some.” She held out an ice pack wrapped in a thin towel.

  Jo took it and held it to her cheek. She was certain she grimaced as the pain intensified with the cold, but she quickly schooled her features. “It does. Thanks.”

  Her mom studied her like she was having some internal debate. Finally, she said, “Jo, is there anywhere you feel safe?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Someplace you are comfortable. Safe.”

  Jo thought for a moment. “Yes, one place.”

  “Where?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you around him when he’s like this.”

  “He’s always like this. What about you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have any other choice, but it’s better for me when you’re not here because I don’t have to worry about you too.”

  Jo surged forward. “Yes, you do have a choice. There are shelters. We could get away from him.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave him. But I can try to get you out of here when he’s like this.”

  Jo studied her for several moments, wishing she could convince her to leave. Finally, she relented. Her mom had to make that decision for herself. “Christie’s. I feel safe at Christie and Julie’s house.”

  “Okay. I want you to pack enough clothes for a couple of weeks and get all your school and soccer things together. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll go over.”

  “Okay. I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you too, Jo.

  *

  Most of the car ride to Christie’s house was quiet. Jo wasn’t sure there was anything left to say. When they were almost there, her mom spoke. “I’d like you to go up to Christie’s room so I can talk to her parents.”

  “Okay.”

  Jo had told her mom the truth. Christie’s house was the one place she felt completely safe, but that didn’t mean she relished the idea of showing up on the doorstep with her face looking the way it did. When they stepped onto the porch, Jo adjusted the ball cap she was wearing so most of her face would be in shadow.

  Mr. Black answered the door. Jo let her mom do the talking.

  “Hi, Bill. I need some help. Can I talk with you and Rhonda?”

  Clearly surprised, he opened the door and stepped aside. “Sure, Patty, come on in.” Mr. B opened the door wide to let them in. “Jo, Christie and Julie are up in their room if you want to go see them.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Jo escaped up the stairs, she heard Mr. B say, “Rhonda’s in the kitchen. Let’s talk in there.”

  Rhonda looked up from the grocery list she was making at the kitchen table, surprised to see a visitor. “Hello, Patty. How are you?”

  “Not so good, actually. I need to talk to you both if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is. Have a seat.”

  Patty clasped her hands on the table and appeared to be biting the inside of her lip. “So…there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it fast. Keith has a temper, especially when he’s been drinking.”

  Rhonda felt herself tense. “Does he hit you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “And Jo?”

  “Yes. In fact, that’s why we’re here tonight. Jo didn’t realize Keith was going to be home when she got home from the game today and she let the screen door slam while he was watching football. Sometimes it’s something really small like that that sets him off. He’s never hit her in the face before. I’m afraid it’s going to get worse for her. When I asked Jo if there was anywhere she felt safe, she said here. I know I should leave Keith and get Jo out of that environment, but I can’t do that yet. I’m working on that. But I can’t watch him hurt her anymore. She shouldn’t have to be around when Keith’s showing his temper. I was wondering if it’d be okay if I sent Jo over here when things get bad at our house.”

  Rhonda and Bill exchanged glances.

  “Absolutely,” Rhonda said. In her mind it wasn’t even a question. Rhonda had wondered once or twice about Jo’s injuries, the bruises she occasionally saw on her arms or legs, but Jo had always brushed them off as having happened on the soccer field. Now she knew she should have asked more questions.

  “Of course,” Bill said. “Jo’s welcome here any time, all the time.” Rhonda was grateful she and Bill were on the same page.

  “You are too. We have a spare bedroom if you need to get away.”

  Tears slid down Patty’s face. “I appreciate that very much.”

  Bill asked, “Does Jo have clothes with her?”

  “Yes. I told her to pack for two weeks. I thought it would be a good idea for her to have extra clothes here in case she has to head this way on short notice.”

  “Smart thinking,” Rhonda said. “Bill, why don’t you help Patty with Jo’s bags? I’ll go get her and the four of us can chat for a few minutes.”

  As Rhonda approached Christie and Julie’s room, she heard giggling. It made her heart lighter that Jo could laugh at a time like this. Jo was Christie and Julie’s best friend. She knew they would be over the moon when they found out Jo would be stayin
g with them more often. She watched for a moment as they lounged on the beds, flipping through magazines and trading funny things they found on the pages. She knocked on the open door to get their attention.

  “Hi, Mom,” Julie said.

  “Hi. Jo, would you come downstairs for a few minutes? Bill and I would like to talk with you and your mom.”

  “Sure.” Jo pushed herself off the bed and walked into the hall.

  As Jo came into the light, Rhonda saw her cut, swollen lip. She winced inwardly. The entire left side of Jo’s face was red and puffy.

  Jo met her gaze directly. “It’s not that bad.”

  “I’m sorry, Jo. I wish I’d known sooner.”

  Jo shrugged. “Not your fault or your problem,” she said without any hint of malice. She turned and trotted downstairs.

  By the time Rhonda made it down to the living room, Jo sat on the sofa with Patty. Bill was in a chair nearby. Rhonda chose the opposite seat and faced Jo and Patty. Patty’s face was puffy from crying and there were unshed tears waiting to fall. Jo sat stone-faced without a tear in sight, giving nothing away. Jo was unlike Christie and Julie in some fundamental ways. She did not bear the sheen of innocence that Rhonda’s girls still had. But she remained friendly and seemed genuinely happy in their company. Jo wore the mantle of maturity that had been thrust upon her with confidence and grace. Sometimes it was hard to remember she was only fifteen like Christie and Julie. “Jo, do you know why your mom brought you here today?”

  “My dad hit me again and I told her this is the place I feel safest.” Jo said matter-of-factly.

  “Your mom asked Bill and me if it would be okay for you to stay here when things are bad at your house. We told her you’re welcome here any time. We also told her the spare room is open for her any time she needs it. How do you feel about that?”

  Jo didn’t look at her mom before she answered. “I have mixed feelings about it, actually. While I appreciate the offer, I feel like I should be at our house so I can protect my mom.”

  “Oh, Jo,” Patty said, “It’s not your job to protect me.”

  Jo turned to Patty. “Somebody needs to.”