Before she sat down, Amanda pulled an extra chair up next to hers. Lee glanced at her, and the chair, as Warren and Calvin chatted about a fishing trip.

Trout fishing wasn't his speed – he was more of a saltwater man, but Amanda looked like she needed time to mull something over. She'd share sooner or later, so he dropped a hand on her knee, and asked Warren if he tied his own flies. Amanda absently covered his hand with her own while she watched the entrance.

Later happened about three minutes on, just as Marcie swept back through the door.

Amanda gave a short nod to herself. "Lee…" she began, and bit her lip, glancing between him and the approaching woman. "I need a favor, and I don't have time to explain. The next appropriately benign song, be in the market for a dance. I'll say my feet hurt. I need you to ask Marcie instead."

Terri gasped. "Girl! What?"

"No," she told Terri. "I know what I'm doing."

Terri looked doubtful but held her peace.

Lee opened his mouth to ask a question, but at Amanda's expression, he clamped it shut and studied her for a moment. "Just a dance and some conversation?"

"That's right."

Lee nodded. "Got it, no problem."

"Good," Amanda replied. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I'm dancing the last one with you."

Amanda smiled broadly at that. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Marcie skirted around a nearby table and Amanda waved her over, patting the empty chair. "You haven't sat down all night. Did you even eat?"

Marcie had stopped for a bite on the way from her parents' house. "You never know what they're going to serve at these things," she said, and kept on chatting with Amanda and soon with Debbie, like they were the best of friends. Terri remained skeptical but played along. Lee and Brad went for refills, and Lee brought Amanda and Marcie a glass of white wine. Which was actually a little clear plastic cup of white wine the caterer had bought by the gallon. Marcie's grimaced at her first sip, but shrugged and took another, bigger drink.

Debbie laughed. "Not exactly top shelf, is it?"

Marcie wrinkled her nose. "Not quite. But my soon-to-be ex has an interest in a vineyard, so I freely admit to being biased. In fact, months ago, when he started 'working late with his secretary,'" she said with air quotes and a look of disdain, "I began smuggling bottles of wine out of the house. And anything else I'm sure he won't notice when it's time to split it all up. He compulsively hides cash in a hundred random places and forgets about it. We'd been married a week, and I was looking for a book in the library and found ten grand falling out of the Oxford dictionary. Too bad for him, I pay attention to that sort of thing. I'm only preemptively taking a fraction of what Jerry is going to rook me out of on the other end, anyway. And I'm not leaving my jewelry or the first edition Jane Austens or my cat for 'Becki with an I' either." Marcie said the other woman's name with an exaggerated valley girl accent and a gagging motion. "She's twenty-three and wears a bikini the size of a postage stamp. She probably doesn't even know who Jane Austen is."

Debbie, whose parents' acrimonious divorce had spanned her entire junior year, looked somewhat stricken. "Marcie, I'm so sorry. There's just no excuse for behavior like his, when two people have made a promise to each other. That's the worst." Debbie reached across the table and squeezed Marcie's hand.

"Thanks," Marcie said, with the slightest shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I have to admit that I didn't do my homework before I married Jerry. Husband number one was…combative." A look Amanda didn't like at all passed across Marcie's face. "I was so glad to be away from him that I jumped at the first eligible option - and Jerry could be so charming. But last year I began to suspect Jerry is working for some pretty questionable people. Weird phone calls at all hours. Bearer bonds and stacks of cash magically appearing in the wall safe." Marcie scowled. "Instead of coming back east with me this weekend, he's moored up in Montego Bay 'working' with his perky, ignorant mistress. The miserable rat. I'm glad he's such a jerk. That way I won't miss him when he's in federal prison."

Lee cut a brief look at Amanda and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Do you have any evidence of wrongdoing besides the mystery bonds?"

"My Jazzercise buddy, Beth, who works in accounting at his office, she's been poking around and making Xerox copies of everything she can get her hands on since last summer. She says there's a ton of big discrepancies in the paperwork - dates, dollar amounts and cargo manifests that don't match their permits and tax filings. She says the bogus documents he's filing with the government are going to hang him. Beth and I have been making sure we have a big pile to hand over when the time comes. I'm not touching or taking anything in the safe, zero fingerprints on anything he might get in trouble for later. It's like 'I, Spy' around my house these days."

"Who are these clients, Marcie? What do they do?" Lee asked.

"Imports, lots of stuff from Asia. They have ships coming into the Port of Los Angeles all the time. Jerry does maritime contract and tax law. He does reams of paperwork for those guys."

By now, the whole table was listening in, and they jeered en masse at Jerry. Lee marveled and how suddenly tolerable, and even sympathetically human Marcie had become in the last twenty minutes. What on earth had Amanda and Marcie spoken about in the restroom? And mostly he wondered how he was going to get Marcie hooked up with the FBI to shine a light on Jerry.

About that time, Lionel Ritchie ended, and Jefferson Starship began. After a glance from Amanda, Lee stood and asked his partner if she wanted to take a turn around the dance floor.

"I'm sorry, I'd love to, but I think one of these shoes is starting to rub a blister. It's what I get for wearing new shoes to a dance."

Lee turned his faintly pouty countenance toward Marcie. "How about you, Marcie? You can't come to your reunion and not cut a rug. Take a turn with me?" He turned to Amanda. "You don't mind babe, do you?"

"Goodness no, you and Marcie have fun." Amanda winked at Lee, and he smiled in return.

Warren and Jill, who was feeling tired, stayed at the table with Amanda while the rest of their group took to the dance floor.

At the starting notes of Air Supply, Brad and Hector, who were good friends and whose families socialized often, traded partners. For both songs there was plenty of laughter on the dance floor. Amanda genuinely enjoyed watching them all. Marcie was on her best behavior, and deep in non-flirting conversation with Lee for both songs. Amanda was proud of her, proud of Lee, and proud of all her friends. The night had started with some trepidation over Marcie, but it was going to end well, she was sure. She could tell that Lee was already working out how he could get Jerry Madison's financials into the hands of the FBI. It would be easy to tell Marcie that living in Washington, DC, Lee knew the right kind of people to help her.

At the final notes of "All out of Love," the DJ handed the mic over to Marcie's cheerleader friend from earlier, Jenny Schultz. Jenny's high kick, sparkly personality and 4.0 GPA had earned her the mantle of class president back in the day. She introduced the class officers present, thanked a handful of gray-haired teachers and administrators who had joined them for the evening, and called for a drumroll as she re-crowned the Jefferson High School class of 1967 homecoming queen and king. Marcie beamed as genuine applause greeted her and a former wide receiver named Frank who'd shared the honor with her twenty years before.

During the presentation, Lee, Brad, Terri, Hector, Jill, Judy and Calvin stood at the edge of the dance floor, next to their table.

As Marcie was crowned, Terri scooted up next to Lee. "You going to stick around?" she asked.

Lee glanced down at her. "I'm here until Amanda's ready to go."

Terri elbowed him in the arm. "That's not what I meant."

Lee stopped mid clap and turned to look Terri in the eye. Oh. "I'm not going anywhere."

Terri gave Lee a long, appraising look. "Amanda babysat Brad's little brother during their mom's chemo so Brad could go to football practice. Brad is very fond of Amanda. For her sake and yours, whether you work out or not, please be good to her. Brad is a SEAL, and he will flatten you. You will need a doctor. You will need a team of doctors."

"First of all, I believe you," Lee said with a shudder. "Secondly, can I be honest?"

Terri considered him. "I think that's best."

Lee looked over to where Amanda and Jill were visiting at the table, and Terri followed his gaze. Jill looked tired and Amanda was speaking softly to her as Jill patted her belly. Then they giggled quietly about something, and Amanda wrapped and arm around Jill and hugged her while they laughed louder. Amanda glanced up at Lee for just a moment, and in Terri's estimation, it looked like Lee's dimples might make like a black hole and swallow the room.

Lee was still watching his partner as he spoke. "Terri, the list of things that are more important to me than Amanda's happiness and wellbeing is dwindling down to nothing, so you don't need to worry about me."

Terri nodded her approval. "Good."