Dr. Irresistible. Elizabeth Bevarly
or impetuous or even irresponsible.
Well, not yet, anyway, a little voice at the back of her head taunted her.
Ignoring the voice, Pru turned her attention back to the woman who had summoned her, resolved to decipher her identity.
As if sensing Pru’s determination, the woman smiled and said, “Oh, all right, I admit it. I’ve changed a bit.” She touched a finger to a delicate curl dancing over her forehead. “I used to be a dishwater blonde,” she confessed. “And I’ve lost about twenty-five pounds since we sat next to each other in Mrs. Clement’s literary social criticism class.”
Pru gaped, then covered her mouth. “Hazel Dubrowski?” she said.
The other woman’s smile turned radiant. “In person.”
“Oh, my gosh,” Pru cried, stunned by the transformation. “You look incredible.”
“Yes, I know,” Hazel agreed without a trace of modesty.
Now that Pru knew the woman’s identity, she could definitely see signs of seventeen-year-old Hazel Dubrowski lurking there. Still, ten years—and heaven knew how many trips to the salon—had given her old schoolmate a totally new appearance.
“It’s actually Hazel Debbit now,” she told Pru as she strode forward, pausing at the counter of the nurses’ station to drum perfectly manicured, plum-colored fingernails over the Formica covering. “I got married three years ago. My husband is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company that his father founded.”
“Is that what you’re doing here in South Jersey?” Pru asked. “Do you and your husband live here?”
Hazel shook her head. “No, we live in Pittsburgh, but my in-laws are here.” She jutted a thumb over her shoulder, toward the room she had exited a moment ago. “My father-in-law was in having some tests done. Nothing major,” she hastened to add. “He’s fine. In fact, my husband is helping him pack up his things now, because he’s just been released.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
The other woman nodded. “And now I run into you after all this time. Prudence Holloway. I can’t believe it. Small world. So what have you been doing since graduation? Nobody’s heard from you since you left Pittsburgh, especially now that your folks moved.”
Yes, well, there was a good reason for that, Pru recalled. Namely that she didn’t want to speak to anyone in Pittsburgh, especially now that her folks had moved. But she didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Hazel that.
“I’ve been living here in South Jersey for about six years now, ever since getting my nursing degree. I needed a change,” she said casually by way of an explanation. At least, she hoped she’d sounded casual. Because it really hadn’t been so much because she needed a change that had made her leave Pittsburgh. It had been more because she had needed an entirely new life.
“Wow,” Hazel said, obviously surprised by this news. “You got a nursing degree?” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I saw you standing out here, I figured you must be a hospital volunteer or something. I had no idea you were actually a nurse. I mean, that takes drive and ambition. You really have to dedicate yourself. I can’t believe you lasted through four years of college and nurse’s training. That’s amazing.”
Yeah, Pru thought morosely, and now that Hazel did know she was a nurse, she’d probably be wondering if her father-in-law had been safe while assigned to this unit. Because, hey, to everyone at Easton High, Prudence Holloway would live forever as “Most Irresponsible,” dangling upside down from a rappelling line.
“I mean,” Hazel added, as if she really, really, really wanted to drive home her point, “I can’t imagine anyone giving you a degree in something like nursing. It just sort of defies logic.”
Pru drew herself up with all the dignity she could muster. She was remembering Hazel pretty well now and recalling that, by their senior year, she had been like everyone else at Easton. Always looking for a new way to tear Pru down. Always poking fun. Always laughing.
“Yeah, well, even more astonishing,” Pru couldn’t help adding, “I graduated from nursing school at the top of my class.”
This time Hazel was the one to gape. “Get out,” she said. “Where did you go? Did you take one of those International School of Bartending nursing courses?”
Somehow, Pru managed to keep her growl of discontent to herself. “No. I went to Penn State,” she said.
Hazel only shook her head slowly as she studied Pru. “Boy, you just never know with some schools, do you?”
What Pru knew was that there was no reason to continue with this conversation. Just as everything—and everyone—else in high school had, it would only serve to demoralize her further. She’d come a long way in the ten years that had passed since graduation, and she wasn’t about to go back. Hazel Dubrowski Debbit just served as a reminder of how good Pru had it these days, having left all that behind.
“Well,” she said coolly to Hazel as she picked up a file from the counter that she really didn’t need at the moment. “It was good seeing you again, Hazel. Give my regards to everybody in Pittsburgh.”
She hoped she’d made clear her subtle but suitable hint that their conversation—and all other contact—was concluded, but Hazel obviously didn’t take it. Because even when Pru glanced down as if looking for something else, her old classmate closed what little distance remained between her and the station, then folded her arms over the counter. When Pru glanced up, arching her eyebrows in silent query, Hazel only smiled.
“You’ll be at the reunion next month, right?”
Although Pru had received her invitation—wondering, frankly, how and why the reunion committee had tracked her down—she had ignored it. No way would she subject herself to something like a ten-year reunion. Hey, she was happy these days. Why mess with a good thing? Especially since, considering her present situation of single motherhood, she would only be laughed at all over again?
Because what could possibly be more irresponsible than being knocked up and abandoned, right? The last thing Pru needed was for her senior class to be hearing about that. “No, I hadn’t planned to attend,” she said. Then, unable to quite quell the ten-year-old hurt that had haunted her, she found herself adding, “Do you honestly think I want to go to a ten-year reunion and see a bunch of people who voted me ‘most irresponsible’ in the senior class superlatives? Why should I put myself through that? High school was bad enough the first time around. Who needs to go through it a second time?”
Hazel chuckled. “Oh, come on, Pru,” she said. “Lighten up. It’ll be fun. Aren’t you curious to see how everyone turned out?”
“No,” she answered honestly.
The other woman’s smile turned positively predatory. Oh, yeah. Now she remembered Hazel Dubrowski. Really well. She’d been one of the most carnivorous members of the senior class. In fact, now that Pru thought more about it, she recalled that Hazel had been on the yearbook staff and had been the one who spearheaded the senior superlatives in the first place. And the one who spearheaded the campaign was the one who usually wound up deciding the winners, based on the prevailing winds.
Sure, Pru could see how she might have been viewed as irresponsible back then. But Hazel was the one who would have created the category. And somehow, Pru was certain she’d done it on purpose, just so she could hang the crown of thorns on Pru’s head. And that was because, Pru also remembered now, Jimmy Abersold had asked her to the junior prom, instead of Hazel.
Oh, it was all coming back to her now. Funny, how selective a person’s memory could be about something like high school—until that memory was forcibly jarred by some baaaad karma, like Hazel was bringing with her now.
“Well, I’m sure they’re all anxious to see how you turned out,” she told Pru with a smile that was at first knowing and then suspicious. “And just how