Behind them were the Piersons. Mr. Pierson and Mrs. Pierson looked pretty much the same as they always had, a good looking couple. Mr. Pierson was the local veterinarian, Mrs. Pierson had been a legal secretary to one of the town’s lawyers for years. But Eric stopped and blinked for a moment at the people with them. The Piersons had four children. Paul had been a year ahead of Eric in school and Eric heard he’d gone to college so he wasn’t around. The youngest girl had to be Linda, but she’d really grown. She must be ten or so by now and had shot up. Then there was Hector. He was recognizable by the shock of white hair but that was about it. Where’d the pimples come from?

But the one that really caught him was the teenage girl with them. The other Pierson child would be Brooke but… that couldn’t be Brooke. He conjured up a vague memory of a gawky and awkward blonde girl who had just entered high school the year he was graduating. She’d had a serious overbite that mildly affected her speech and a mass of metal to go with it. Nice hair, a mass of naturally curly blonde locks, but…

Jesus! It had to be Brooke Pierson. But the maulking vision in a pink dress sitting with them couldn’t… Same damned hair, though. Shit, it was Brooke… She’d sure shot more than up.

He turned away as the girl in question looked his way, as if divining that he’d been staring. It wasn’t that, though. He’d caught other looks from the congregation as the service had gone on. The dress blues certainly stood out and Dad had told him that the decoration had been written up in the local paper. Given that they weren’t, as far as anyone knew, at war, the award of the Navy Cross had been big news in a very small town.