Margaret Walks Across the High School Stage on a Warm June Morning
The gym was filling quickly now, the empty seats disappearing beneath a wave of bright summer dresses, floral blouses, and light gray suits. The noise was a steady, rising roar of laughter, rustling programs, and the high pitch of restless children squirming in their seats. I kept my eyes fixed on the empty stage, where a row of heavy wooden chairs waited for the faculty and school board members.
At ten minutes to ten, a broad shadow fell over my lap, blocking the light from the side aisle.
I looked up, expecting a stranger looking for an empty seat in the crowded rows. Instead, I saw a dark blue suit jacket, the fabric slightly wrinkled at the elbows and smelling of cedar from the hallway closet. Brian stood in the aisle, his eyes red-rimmed and his hair combed back with water, looking older than he had when he left the house.
“Brian,” I said, my voice barely carrying over the roar of the crowd.
