On Common Ground
When Lilah Evans graduated from Grantham U, she was ready to leave college behind and change the world. Now, at a crossroads, she's doing something she never wanted to do: attending her ten-year reunion. And that means running into Justin Bigelow.A decade ago, Justin was the big man on campus–Mr. Self-Involved himself. So why did he nominate Lilah for the Distinguished Alumni award? One thing that's clear this nostalgia-filled weekend, he isn't the partying jock she remembers.What's also clear is that the attraction that used to simmer between them is now more intense–and impossible to ignore. With the stakes higher, do they finally have the courage to go for it?
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You never forget the one who got away
When Lilah Evans graduated from Grantham U, she was ready to leave college behind and change the world. Now, at a crossroads, sheâs doing something she never wanted to do: attending her ten-year reunion. And that means running
into Justin Bigelow.
A decade ago, Justin was the big man on campusâMr. Self-Involved himself. So why did he nominate Lilah for the Distinguished Alumni award? One thing thatâs clear this nostalgia-filled weekend, he isnât the partying jock she remembers.
Whatâs also clear is that the attraction that used to simmer between them is now more intenseâand impossible to ignore. With the stakes higher, do they finally have the courage to go for it?
He bit back a smile and the sudden impulse to take her in his arms
Instead, Justin enjoyed the warm glow that permeated his being and had nothing to do with the sun beating through the car windows.
Lilah cocked her head and stared at him.
Justin held his breath.
She wet her lips.
The only noise was the whizzing of traffic outside and the occasional honk of a car horn. Not to mention the violent thumping of his own heart.
This would be it...their first kiss. Finally.
Dear Reader,
I live in a small college town. Every spring, the azaleas bloom in candy cane colors, the daffodils and tulips blanket the lawns and flowerbeds and the spirited alumni return for their class reunions. These annual rituals bring together the bittersweet memories of past joys and disappointments as well as the promise of beautiful and fulfilling things to comeâall the elements of a great romance, in my opinion. Is it any wonder that I had to write a series of stories set during Grantham Universityâs reunions? I hope you enjoy reading this first installment as much as I took pleasure in writing it.
Let me mention the inspiration for my heroine, Lilah Evans. I happened to read an op-ed piece by New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof on the organization Run for Congo Women and its founder, Lisa Shannon. As a woman and a mother, I couldnât help but be moved by Ms. Shannonâs valiant efforts, and I knew I wanted to create a heroine who embodied her spirit. While I was influenced by elements of her story, the characters and events in my book are, of course, strictly fictional.
As always, I love to hear from my readers. Email me at [email protected].
Tracy Kelleher
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tracy sold her first story to a childrenâs magazine when she was ten years old. Writing was clearly in her blood, though fiction was put on hold while she received degrees from Yale and Cornell, traveled the world, worked in advertising, became a staff reporter and later a magazine editor. She also managed to raise a family. Is it any surprise she escapes to the world of fiction?
Many thanks to Renée Dinnerstein,
an inspired teacher. Youâre a good sport. For her insights into early childhood education, see Renéeâs blog, Investigating Choice Time: Inquiry, Exploration, and Play, at investigatingchoicetime.com.
This book is dedicated to Peter and James:
two great guys who are generous, smart and funny. Plus you give the best hugs!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
March
THE VILLAGE WOMEN STOMPED their bare feet to the rhythm of the drums. They kicked up dirt that collected on the hems of their long cotton dresses, making an earthen border of red clay. The bright, bold patterns of their bandannas created a swirl of color. And the joyous sounds they intoned combined in a song in celebration.
To say the least, Lilah Evans was a long way from home.
You couldnât get much farther from Orcas Island, off the coast of Washington State, than the remote jungle of the Democratic Republic of Congo. But whatever the distanceâindeed, whatever the differencesâthe primal African beat had a universal appeal. And a special one for Lilah.
Because the women who sang and danced? They were singing and dancing for her.
It was a gift from the hearts of women who owned almost nothing and had lost so muchâhusbands and children and homes in the ongoing civil war.
Growing up on an idyllic island, surrounded by fishermen, artists and executive escapees from Seattle, Lilah wouldnât have been able to imagine that people were capable of such cruelty. After her schoolteacher mother had read her Grimmâs fairy tales, sheâd had nightmares for weeks. To this day, she never looked at gingerbread quite the same way.
So when Esther, her good friend among the Congolese women, had told her what had happened to her, her soft voice mingling with the smoke from the kitchen fire in her small hut, Lilah had cringed.
