The reunion festivities did not start until six o’clock that evening, so she decided to explore the town.
She hailed a taxi in front of the hotel. “Where to, miss?” “Let’s just drive around.”
Hometowns were supposed to look smaller when a native returned years later, but to Ashley, Bedford looked larger than she had remembered.
The taxi drove up and down familiar streets, passing the offices of the Bedford Gazette and television station WKYE,
and a dozen familiar restaurants and art galleries. The Baker’s Loaf of Bedford was still there
and Clara’s Place, the Fort Bedford Museum and Old Bedford Village. They passed the Memorial Hospital,
a graceful three-story brick building with a portico. It was there that her father had become famous.
She recalled again the terrible, screaming fights between her mother and father.
They had always been about the same thing. About what? She could not remember.
At five o’clock, Ashley returned to her hotel room. She changed clothes three times before finally deciding on what she was going to wear.
She settled on a simple, flattering black dress. When Ashley entered the festively decorated gymnasium of Bedford Area High School,
she found herself surrounded by 120 vaguely familiar-looking strangers.
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