Free Homecoming by Susan X Meagher Page B

Becky wasn’t the type to care if people teased her about her style. It would be quite another thing if you tried to make her feel inferior about her brain. Jill had watched the usually mild-mannered woman trounce a lecturer who’d attempted to belittle her at a party, something she hoped she never had to witness again.
    Karen was always a little more stylish, but she also went more for comfort than trend. Wearing nothing to attract attention or make too much of a statement, she looked like a psychotherapist, which is exactly what she was.
    Jill opened the door and, after exchanging hugs, her guests were their usual, complimentary selves. “Your place always looks so neat and orderly,” Karen said, looking around wistfully as Becky took a right, heading for the den. “Our house is so filled with books and papers, it looks like an abandoned library.”
    “Becky’s an English professor,” Jill reminded her. “That’s a professional liability.”
    “We should do better. Hey, Beck,” Karen called out. The music changed to something much mellower than Jill had chosen. As expected. “Why don’t we do some spring cleaning? I read you should donate all of the books you haven’t looked at in the last year to the library.”
    Becky walked into the kitchen, and put her hand on Karen’s back. “That’s a great idea, honey.” She rolled her eyes when only Jill could see her. That tactic seemed like a good one to employ in a long term relationship. Agree with everything, but allow yourself to quietly retain your own view. God knew most people never got around to doing the things they agreed to. Why argue about them?
    Skip and Alice were next, with the porch-light shining down on Skip’s growing bald spot. A guy looked so much balder when his thinning hair was very, very dark. Jill guessed he’d try a comb-over, but was equally sure Alice would put her foot down before it got out of control.
    They were arguing about something, barely taking the time to offer a hug before they went into the living room to continue talking; harsh whispering floated into the kitchen. No one paid much attention. They were notorious arguers, but they seemed to have a solid marriage. Maybe the fights were the glue that held them together.
    Mary Beth, Kathleen, and Gerri were the last to arrive. Mary Beth and Kathleen owned a big house not far from Jill, and Gerri was their tenant—for the last fifteen years. Jill wasn’t sure how they worked the arrangement out, but she’d known lots of relationships that didn’t last half as long, so they were doing something right.
    Mary Beth and Kathleen had been friends for years. Kathleen was around Jill’s age, and Mary Beth a few years older. Gerri was a bit of an enigma, working at home in some sort of technical support job. She didn’t seem to have separate friends, and usually tagged along with Mary Beth and Kathleen for everything from bridge to holidays to family funerals. That wouldn’t have worked for Jill, but they seemed perfectly content to be thought of as a group.
    Of the guests, half of them worked at UVM in some capacity, but none were in Jill’s exact department. She wasn’t afraid to socialize with co-workers, but she preferred going out for a drink or dinner to having them over to her home. There was a line she was careful not to cross, and letting business associates know too much about you seemed a little dangerous. Maybe that was her mother’s influence.
    Gerri had been brewing beer for a few years, and she’d brought some of her summer ale for the group. Alice, a teetotaler, brought a case of diet soda that would most likely remain in the pantry until the next time they came. There were many junk foods Jill liked, but she’d never been able to stomach a diet anything.
    They began to play, several years of experience keeping the games fast but loose. No one got particularly invested in the outcome, and they stopped for breaks more often than most groups would. That’s