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~o~
The music was the worst kind of cliché: 80's pop that simmered and pulsed and grated on the nerves but also grabbed hold and wouldn't let go. It was a familiar kind of torture, one that brought with it memories of a time long since gone and definitely not tinted rosy.
He scanned his eyes around the room, familiar faces popping out at him one by one. He could feel it building in his gut: that sense of never being good enough, of never doing anything right and always falling just that little bit short. He could feel the sweat as it broke over his brow and prickled at his spine. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea?
"Because you're not that kid anymore, Charlie."
Charlie Brown turned wide eyes to the woman standing beside him, her hand curled into the crook of his elbow as she smiled sweetly up at him. This, at least, was one thing he'd done right. Maybe not the only thing, but Audrey Brown was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he wouldn't deny that for all the money in the world.
"It'll be fine," she said, patting his arm. "You do still have friends here. That's why we came, right?"
He quirked a smile at her as he passed a hand over his bald head. "Yeah, it is."
Audrey winked at him and he felt his heart stutter, just like it did every time she did that. The years hadn't been as harsh on her as they had on him. Her red hair still shone brightly, and she didn't appear to have changed so much from their childhood. Not that Charlie had changed either. He was still the same bald-headed, awkward kid he'd been all those years ago, just now with more wrinkles and a mortgage.
"Chuck!"
Charlie's head popped up and he groaned when he saw who was headed his way. "Peppermint" Patty Reichardt, it seemed, hadn't changed much either. Her hair—a darker shade of red than his lovely wife's—was still cropped short, though less so than when they'd been kids, she was still wearing a green shirt, although this one might have been silk, and she was wearing sandals with her khakis, though the sandals had a slight heel and were definitely more grown up than anything she'd worn as a kid.
"Patty," Charlie said, mustering up a smile as she approached them near the door to the ballroom. "It's good to see you."
"How the hell are ya, Chuck!" she practically boomed as she shook his hand vigorously and slapped him on the arm. "You haven't changed a bit—" she poked him in the middle, where he was still a bit more doughey than he'd like "—from the old days. Remember how my team used to beat yours all the time—"
"Sir, I'm sure Charles would rather not relive those memories."
Charlie glanced over Patty's shoulder to find Marcie standing behind her longtime best friend, giving Charlie a pained look. She looked good; thinner than she'd been back then, wearing a nice red dress but still with those huge glasses. Some things never changed.
"Nonsense, Marcie," Patty said, winking at him. It did not leave him feeling warm or fuzzy. "Those were the good old days, right?"
Charlie winced as she slapped his shoulder. "Yeah, they were great."
Except for the 83 times Patty's Little League team had beaten his. What a nightmare, and no matter how hard he tried, the only time his team ever won was when he wasn't playing. And as if that weren't bad enough, even though they'd lived across town from each other, they'd wound up at the same high school because Patty's parents had transferred her there for the sports program, where he'd had to relive every single one of those 83 losses every time she told the stories at lunchtime. Ugh.
"I'm so glad we got to see you," Audrey piped up from beside him. Charlie tried not to let the gratitude show. "But I think I see our table, so we'd better go. Maybe we'll catch up later?"
"Sure, sure," Patty said, appearing unfazed as she smacked him on the arm again. "Catch you later, Chuck."
Marcie winced in sympathy as she followed her friend off into the crowd. Charlie felt shaking beside him and turned, expecting to see his wife radiating fury, but instead she was trying her best to hold back laughter.
"That woman never ceases to amaze me," Audrey said, shaking her head. "Come on, I really did see our table."
Charlie took her hand, following as she cut a path through the tables scattered around the ballroom. He saw more familiar faces as they moved through the room. Some they stopped to chat with, while others they merely smiled at and moved on.
When they finally arrived at their table, Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. These were his true friends, the one's he'd spent his childhood with, running around the neighborhood playing catch or flying kites. St. Paul had been a great place to grow up, and if it weren't for the harsh winters, he'd probably have stayed.
"Charlie Brown, as I live and breathe," Pigpen said as he rose to hug his friend. "How are ya? Didn't expect to see you at this thing."
Charlie returned the hug, marveling at how much his old friend had cleaned up. He was in a sharp suit and tie, not a hair out of place and smelling like a department store perfume counter. He knew from conversations with his parents that Pigpen had gone to law school and set up a practice in Minneapolis, preferring to come home than see the world.
"I'm good," Charlie said. "You remember my wife, Audrey?"
"I'm sure I'd have remembered a pretty young thing like her," Pigpen said as he shook hands with Audrey, who rolled her eyes at his smooth delivery.
"You remember the Little Red-Haired Girl I used to have a crush on?"
Pigpen's eyebrows shot up. "That's you?" Audrey nodded, drawing a low whistle out of the man. "Wow. We all thought he was nuts for crushing on you. What do you see in this awkward kid, anyway."
Audrey just smiled. "Charlie makes me laugh, as cliché as it sounds. I was smitten from the beginning."
There was a smattering of laughter around the table. They'd talked about this, when they'd first started dating back in college. He'd never been able to figure out why she'd even said yes that first time. He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten so lucky, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. A slight touch on his shoulder made him turn around, a smile blooming on his face.
"Hello, Big Brother," Sally said, returning his smile. She hugged him fiercely before pulling back and looking him over. "You should come home more often. Mom and Dad miss you."
Charlie rolled his eyes. "I came home this week, didn't I?"
Whatever she would have said was cut off by another familiar voice. "Leave him alone, sweetheart. I'm sure he's already swung by the old homestead."
"Linus," Charlie said, his smile growing into an outright grin. He stepped into the hug the other man offered, holding on tight as memories of days long gone washed over him. Of all the people in St. Paul, he thought maybe he missed Linus Van Pelt, his childhood best friend the most.
"It's good to see you, Charlie," Linus said as he pulled back. "And don't let my wife browbeat you. She—"
"Saves it all for you, sweetie," Sally said, smirking at her husband. "I only want to make sure he doesn't miss out on seeing Mom and Dad—"
"I haven't, I promise. Now can we drop it and just have fun tonight?"
"If you say so, Big Brother," Sally said. "Now, let me say hello to that smart woman you married."
Charlie smiled. He'd never hear the end of the teasing over his wife, but he thought he'd survive. As long as Audrey didn't leave him.
"So, how've you been?" Charlie asked Linus as he watched their wives chat away. "School still treating you okay?"
Linus, to the surprise of absolutely no one, had become a history teacher at their old high school. He'd always been a bit of a history nut, so it really was a perfect fit. Add to that the fact that his sister taught English at the same high school and theirs really was a match made in heaven, even if Linus had fought it tooth and nail until his last year in college when he'd finally acknowledged that he wanted to be the high school teacher his father had been and he wanted to marry his best friend's sister.
"School's great," Linus said, grinning widely. "Good batch of kids this year, so I've got no complaints. And Principal Wilder retired, so he's finally off my case."
Charlie chuckled. Wilder had been there when they'd all started high school, and while they hadn't been trouble-makers, they hadn't exactly been angels either. "Must be nice to have somebody around who treats you like an adult for a change, huh?"
"Yeah," Linus said, chuckling right along with his friend. "Wilder's last day before retirement, he's still asking me if my pocket square is a clipping from that old blanket I used to drag around."
Charlie gave his friend a sympathetic look. "To be fair, we all expected you to take that thing with you to college."
"Who says I didn't," Linus asked with a wicked grin. "Couldn't leave it sitting around at home. Lucy'd have burned it."
As if speaking her name conjured the woman herself, Lucy Van Pelt appeared at their table, a tumbler of something dangling from her fingers. It was clear she'd gotten a head start at the hotel bar, and Charlie cringed at the sight she made. Still perfectly made up, nearly tottering on spiky heels and in a too-tight dress in the the brightest blue she could find, Lucy was the picture of a woman well past her prime and still trying to hang on.
"Well, well," she said, dropping into a chair at their table. "Charlie Brown, as I live and breathe. Didn't expect you to show up."
"I was invited, same as you," Charlie said, trying and mostly failing to keep the defensive tone out of his voice.
"Can't imagine why," Lucy snapped back. "It's not like you were popular or anything."
"I wasn't very popular either, Lucy, and they still invited me," Linus shot back.
Lucy wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I rest my case."
Charlie just rolled his eyes. There was a time when Lucy's words would have cut him to the bone, but he'd long since given up trying to gain her approval—or anyone's really. Lucy was one of those people who was never happy with what she had and had no problem at all sharing that displeasure with the rest of the world. He felt sorry for her, in a way.
"So, Charlie, what are you up to these days?" she asked.
"I'm actually between projects, at the moment," he said. But when he opened his mouth to continue, she cut him off ruthlessly.
"Unemployed," she said with disdain. "Figures."
"Lucy, that was unnecessary."
All conversation stopped as Charlie's gaze shifted to the man standing next to Lucy, and he had to do a double-take. Schroeder, it seemed, had finally grown a spine, because he was looking at his ex-wife as if he might just turn her over his knee if she didn't shut up.
"Actually," Audrey said into the silence, "Charlie just sold his latest startup to Google. We were planning an extended vacation when the invitation to the reunion came."
"You?" Lucy asked, sitting up in her seat, glass now forgotten on the table. "You sold a startup to Google? What did they do, sue you for patent infringement?"
"Actually," Charlie said, words coming from who knew where, "they were looking to integrate my algorithms into their search engine. It was just easier to sell than to fiddle with licensing agreements. Besides," he shrugged, "I can use the money to fund my next startup."
"How much money are we talking, Charlie?" Lucy asked, bite in every syllable.
"Lucy—" Schroeder started, but she waved him off, spearing Charlie with a raised eyebrow.
Charlie swallowed. "Ten million."
"For some math?!" Lucy practically shouted. "You've got to be kidding me!"
All eyes were now on Charlie; even the people at the nearby tables seemed to be taking an avid interest in the proceedings. He squirmed under the attention, but didn't back down. Somehow, he thought maybe his whole life had been building to this moment. He wasn't sure that was a good thing.
He returned Lucy's incredulous gaze with his own steady stare. "I learned a few things about myself at MIT. Like the fact that I'm good with math and technology." He smiled, and he honestly couldn't have said if it was self-deprecating or smug. And he didn't care. "Besides, it's fun, building something and then selling it to someone so I can start over on something else. Beats reliving the old days over and over again."
Lucy sputtered at him, indignant outrage pouring off her in waves. Schroeder stepped up and took her by the arm, forcing her up and out of the room. A smattering of applause startled Charlie. He glanced around to find the smiling faces of his former classmates congratulating him. It was heady, but instead of proud, he just felt guilty for making a scene.
"Hey, Chuck," he heard, just as another back slap threatened to tumble him into the table. "Nice work with the uber-bitch. She's been getting on a lot of people's nerves the last thirty years or so."
Charlie turned around to find Patty grinning from ear to ear. He looked over to find even his wife smiling proudly at him. He shook his head, not sure what to make of any of it.
"Can we just sit down and try to enjoy the rest of the evening?" he asked plaintively.
The group of friends chuckled but took their seats. Charlie caught Schroeder returning to the table just as they were all settling in.
"Sorry about that, Charlie," the other man said. "I was hoping she'd leave the attitude at home, but apparently not."
"It's okay, Schroeder," Charlie said. And it was. "Lucy's never going to change, and it's not your fault or your responsibility."
"Thanks, man," Schroeder said, smiling.
If Linus' stories were to be believed, Lucy had blamed just about every failure in her life on the short-lived marriage to her former childhood sweetheart. He hadn't been nearly ambitious enough for her, nevermind that she'd known since they were children that all he wanted to do was play piano and be left alone.
Well, he'd gotten his wish to play piano; he taught advanced music theory at the University of Minnesota even though he didn't need the money. He'd been spotted while at Julliard and had recorded several albums of original piano music and had even done a few concerts, but his heart was always in the classics, so he still played in the local orchestra when time allowed. But where Lucy had had visions of being the wife of a world-famous musician, Schroeder had simply wanted to play his piano and teach.
Lucy, it appeared, still wasn't over that.
"I propose a toast," Pigpen said, raising his glass. The rest of the table's occupants followed suit. "To friendships that last. May ours be among them."
There was a round of here here's as everyone took a drink and conversation resumed around the table. Charlie took in the familiar faces he was now surrounded with. His beloved sister Sally and her husband Linus, who really were the perfect match and seemed to adore each other more now than they had as children (which hadn't been very much, but Charlie could understand how times change). Pigpen, now a successful lawyer with a beautiful wife and—if the pictures were to be believed—even more beautiful children. Schroeder, who was now teaching his love of music to the next generation. Even Patty and Marcie, sitting close together and talking animatedly—well, Patty, anyway.
"What are you thinking?" Audrey asked, leaning in close.
Charlie turned and smiled at her. "Just thinking how lucky I am. How lucky we are."
"Well, you know what they say, Charlie Brown," she said, smiling. "Living well is the best revenge."
Charlie just smiled and pressed a kiss to his wife's brow. "Yes, it is."
~Finis