HICKEY Page 11

  “All right. So I’ll start. Where have you been, Bran? What have you been doing for seven years?”

  He swirled the ice around his glass, staring at it as if it were a crystal ball. “You already know I was in the Army.”

  “Yes, I was asking for more specifics.”

  Bran paused thoughtfully and then he started to talk. He’d been stationed in Georgia. He’d also done a lot of back and forth on deployments to the Middle East, which I vaguely knew. What I didn’t know was that he’d been an Army Ranger. I didn’t know that he’d taken some nasty shrapnel to his right thigh when a roadside bomb hit his convoy as he escorted medical personnel to safety during his last deployment. I didn’t know that until that happened he’d been planning on being career military but as he sat in a hospital bed, battling pain and infection, he had second thoughts about what he really wanted out of life. He declined to re-enlist when the time came.

  I was slightly taken aback by the serious words coming out of his mouth. This man didn’t seem like cocky fun-loving Bran at all. He seemed like somebody I knew next to nothing about.

  “Do you miss it?” I asked curiously. “Do you miss the Army now that you’re out?”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I’m still adjusting. Not sorry I didn’t re-enlist though. It’s just that you forget what it’s like, to be a civilian.”

  “I can imagine,” I said, even though I couldn’t. It was impossible for me to stick to a morning workout schedule. From what I’ve heard of the military’s rigorous physical tasks, I wouldn’t last three hours.

  “So how long until you’re done with school?” he asked.

  “I’ve got four more semesters after this one. I’m in a concurrent MBA program, meaning I’m getting a master’s in business along with my bachelor’s degree.”

  I braced myself for some kind of rebuke over failing to fulfill my more artistic aspirations but Bran just nodded thoughtfully. At least he understood one thing by now; life usually didn’t go according to plan.

  “And then what?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Hopefully a fairly decent job in one of those shiny downtown buildings. I’ve got an internship in the accounting department of a shipping company so maybe that will turn into something. And Antha says if I’m desperate then I can always work in the bakery.”

  “Antha,” he said, nodding. “I remember Antha.”

  “Of course you remember Antha,” I said, slightly annoyed for some reason. “She went to school with us from fifth grade on. She was my best friend. She still is.”

  “And she lives in Arizona?”

  “Yes. She and her husband own a bakery in the old section of Scottsdale. Initially, she was the reason I moved here. Well, that and the fact that it signified a fresh start and seemed to have nothing in common with Ohio. Anyway, you’ll find that most people you meet here came from somewhere else.”

  “Now it makes sense,” he said.

  “What does?”

  “I wondered what the hell brought you here.”

  “Funny,” I said wryly, “I’ve wondered the same thing about you.”

  Bran let the remark go by and the conversation stalled but it didn’t matter because the waitress arrived with our food. After she walked away I noticed Bran was staring at something on the other side of the room.

  “The Grand Canyon,” he said and picked up his hamburger with a grin.

  I unrolled my napkin and set it in my lap. “Not anywhere around here. It’s about a four hour drive.”

  He was chewing a large bite of hamburger and had to wait until he swallowed. “I meant the picture. Over there.”

  I looked at the place he’d been staring at and sure enough there was a panoramic poster of one of the storied wonders of the world.

  “Brings back memories,” Bran said quietly.

  “Not for me,” I said, pretending I didn’t know what he meant. “I’ve never been there.”

  Bran set his hamburger down and reached for my hand but didn’t quite touch me. “We always planned to go,” he said. “Remember how we used to stare at the painting on the wall and make plans-“

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I interrupted coldly. I’d picked up my knife and fork to eat my messy sandwich and let them fall to the plate with a clatter. A few people glanced over. “Why are you here? I’ve asked you that and you either brush off the question with stupid sarcasm or you don’t bother to answer. You could have chosen to move anywhere, Bran, and yet you came here. To a place you seem to have no connection to.”

  He leaned forward. “I wouldn’t say that there’s nothing connecting me to Arizona.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You know what it means.”

  I stood up and threw my napkin on the table. “Dammit. What the hell are you hoping for?”

  Bran sat back and gave me a long, meaningful look. I wasn’t sure what words I expected to come out of his mouth but the ones he spoke caught me off guard.

  “I love you, Cess,” he said. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”

  “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.”

  An old agony stirred inside of me. I never wanted to feel that way again. I didn’t want to feel that way now. No one warns you how falling in love can leave you with a patchwork of unseen scars.

  “No you don’t,” I whispered and shook my head.

  Bran got to his feet and came around to my side of the table.

  “Cecily,” he said.

  His voice meant so many things to me. Desire and love and hope and fury. In the end, the last one had won. That had been decided seven years ago.

  I backed away from him. If he touched me, if he kissed me, it wouldn’t just be about sex. I’d worked so hard just to get on the path to a good future that I was in control of and I never again wanted to need anything from Bran. Not his money or his pity or his body or his love. He could ruin me too easily. He’d almost done it once.

  “Cecily,” he said again and I saw that he believed his declaration of love. Or at least he thought he did. I almost wavered. Almost.

  “I can’t,” I said and took a step back. “You betrayed me.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t what happened, Cess.”

  “Liar.”

  He blinked and tried to reach for my hand. “We can start over.”

  “We absolutely cannot start over,” I said stonily.

  I’d hurt him. I saw it his face. But I knew Branson Hickey didn’t give up easily when it came to getting what he wanted. I also knew how quickly he could throw something away when he decided he didn’t want it anymore, like a child with a worn-out toy. I couldn’t place myself at his mercy again. He wouldn’t believe it unless I cut him more deeply, unless I let him know that there was no chance I would ever trust him again and nothing he could say would convince me differently.

  “Cecily,” he said firmly, “You need to listen to me now and if you still don’t want anything to do with me after you hear the truth I’ll have to find a way to live with that. But I didn’t betray you.”

  I curled my hands into fists and summoned all the rage I could find, though I knew it was immature. The next words out of my mouth came in the form of a scream.

  “YOU FUCKED YOUR STEPSISTER!”

  There were gasps from every corner of the small diner. Avoiding even a glance in Bran’s direction I grabbed my purse and ran out, praying he wouldn’t chase me.

  He didn’t.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Branson

  I hadn’t planned to ask Cecily to marry me that night. The words just kind of tumbled out of my mouth in a perfect moment. I had no regrets. Nothing ever made me as happy as hearing her say yes.

  The next morning we drove thirty miles away to obtain a marriage certificate. We didn’t tell anyone our plans. At least, I didn’t tell anyone. She called her friend Antha because apparently Antha had to be told everything. I just told my dad I’d be late to work at the deal
ership because I had some errands to run and he didn’t ask questions.

  “I love you,” I told Cecily when we were driving back to Hickeyville.

  She beamed. “I love you too.” Then she blushed a little and bit her lip. “That’s the first time you’ve said it, Bran.”

  I kissed her hand. “It’s true.”

  Maybe it should have seemed odd to me that I’d asked a girl to marry me before I told her I loved her but it didn’t. After all, I’d felt that way about Cecily for weeks. I just hadn’t recognized it in so many words until I looked at her in the moonlight beside the reservoir and felt so alive I thought I might be able to touch the stars. I didn’t need football or crowds cheering or the empty worship of a thousand followers.

  All I needed was to be here at home. With this girl.

  Once we returned to Hickeyville we kissed for a long time in my car before I dropped her off. I had to force myself not to drive her someplace quiet and take all of her, like I was dying to do. This was the real thing with Cecily. I knew it was true because I’d never had it before, never cared enough to hold back like this.

  “We don’t have to wait, Bran,” she breathed in my ear as her hand fumbled with my belt.

  “Wedding night,” I insisted, groaning a little as her fingers touched my dick.

  Cecily smiled with pure happiness and rested her cheek against my chest as I stroked her soft hair. After a moment she sighed.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “Nothing. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Hey.” I tugged on a strand of her hair. “No secrets between us, okay? Very soon you’ll be my wife.” I felt proud when I said the word. Possessive.

  “I know, Bran,” she said in a small voice. “I can’t wait to be your wife and I don’t want to keep anything from you. Part of me is just afraid you’ll be disappointed. You know, because I don’t have the kind of experience you’re used to.”

  “Stop it,” I ordered and pulled her all the way into my lap. I forced her to look me in the eye. “You couldn’t disappointment me. I love you so much, Cess.” I slid my hand under her long paisley skirt and enjoyed the way she inhaled sharply. “And I want you so much. Don’t worry about the learning curve. I’ll show you everything, honey.” I found the elastic of her cotton panties and slipped a finger inside. “Everything.”

  We kissed some more and by this time I was so worked up I had to tear myself away or else I’d end up taking her virginity right there in my front seat. Cecily turned around and waved as she walked up the broken concrete path to her front door and I’d never been happier in my entire life. If having Cecily beside me every day meant I’d feel like this all the time then I couldn’t wait to put a ring on her finger.

  Before I went to work I stopped at home and jerked off like a madman. And I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I thought about Cecily the whole time.

  As I pulled into the used car dealership my father owned, I saw a disheveled man with a shopping cart sitting on the corner. His name was Eddie Heal and he’d been a fixture on the streets of Hickeyville since I was in elementary school. Once upon a time he’d been a manager at the old factory but things went downhill for him after it closed. His family was long gone and once in a while the local charities would try to help him. Mostly he refused their efforts and the word on the street was he wouldn’t ever accept cash. I made a mental note to pick up some cheeseburgers for him later because I knew that while Eddie wouldn’t take money he’d never turn down a burger. He waved to me as I drove by.

  My dad was sitting in the show room, at one of the desks where customers were treated to bottled water and sales pressure. He was facing away, absently twirling his eyeglasses in his left hand. He was alone and he looked tired. A few weeks back he’d had to let another member of the sales team go and the fact weighed on him. A lot of things weighed on Eric Hickey. Business was worse every year, his eldest son was dead, his first wife had left him and his youngest son was a chronic fuck up.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, hoping to get by without too much of his attention.

  He turned around and surveyed me critically. “You forgot the tie again.”

  I hadn’t forgotten. I hated wearing a tie. I didn’t see what it mattered anyway. My ability to sell cars didn’t hinge on my fashion accessories. Last week I’d made the only sale in here, a used Ford pickup to Elvin Carter.

  “Sorry, won’t happen again,” I said.

  He looked me up and down like he was assessing some damage. The day of my car accident last spring he’d run to my bedside with naked fear written all over his face. No no, can’t lose you too, said his terror and I felt terrible. I still did.

  “How’s the knee feeling?” he asked.

  “Doing better. Physical therapy helped.”

  “You ought to keep going then.”

  I shook my head. “No need.”

  My father was still staring at me. “You still seeing the Barnett girl?”

  I was surprised he was asking. We didn’t have the kind of relationship where we talked about things like girls and life and lost family members. Important subjects just kind of hung in the air between us until they dissolved.

  “Yes, I’m still with her,” I said. Then I stood a little taller and cleared my throat. “I’m marrying her, Dad. I’m marrying Cecily.”

  Saying the words out loud in the empty showroom made me feel decisive. It made them real, not just a whispered secret between Cess and me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Aggie, the front desk receptionist, craning her neck so far she’d probably need a chiropractor. My stepmother Nell was Aggie’s best friend and between the two of their big mouths the news was bound to be known to all of Hickeyville within an hour. They should just save some time and print a banner to hang over Center Street.

  Branson Hickey is marrying Cecily Barnett!

  So impulsive, they’d say.

  So young, they’d say.

  So fucking be it, I’d answer.

  I was marrying that girl and no one would stop me.

  My father blinked. “When?”

  “Soon.”

  He appeared to be digesting this unexpected information but he didn’t look distressed in the slightest. “You staying in the apartment?”

  “Just for a little while and I’ll pay you rent. We’ll get our own place as soon as we can. Business is sure to pick up when the factory opens, right?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s sure to.” My father got heavily to his feet. He’d gained an unhealthy amount of weight since my mother took off three years ago. It surprised me when he announced last year that he was getting married again.

  My stepmother Nell used to work in the cafeteria at the high school. She was brash and big breasted and kind of an idiot, nothing like my mother. I’d grown to like her a little bit though because whatever her flaws she seemed crazy about my dad.

  Her daughter was a different story. Kayla and I had a thing on and off again in our first year of high school and whenever she was around she found ways to let me know she’d be love to revive that history. Even if our parents weren’t married I wouldn’t have been interested in her. Kayla was mean as hell and she hated people for no other reason than it gave her something to do. Once she started a rumor that Cecily’s best friend Antha was born with a tail and had to shave her moustache like a man every day. At least Kayla had left for a small Christian college two hundred miles away so I didn’t have to deal with her regularly for now.

  My father suddenly smiled and held his hand out. “Congratulations, son. Cecily seems like a nice girl, the kind of girl who can keep your feet on the ground.”

  I returned his firm handshake, feeling slightly amazed that he wasn’t going to try to talk me out of it. He couldn’t have, of course, but I would have expected an argument about how we didn’t know each other well enough or we were too young. Instead he seemed almost pleased.

  “Thank you, Dad,” I said.

  “You love her?” he
asked.

  “Of course.”

  He didn’t let my hand go yet and he was peering at me rather intently as he leaned forward. “Don’t take anything for granted, Branson,” he said earnestly. “It’s work you know, keeping the ones you love. You stop working at it and you’ll lose them, one way or another.”

  My father dropped my hand and abruptly shuffled back to his office while I stared after him. That was the first time he’d ever referenced the sad end of our family. I wanted my father to come back and talk to me some more. I wanted to ask him questions, to let him know that I missed Caden too. I missed my big brother so damn much. Sometimes I talked to him inside my head and no one knew that, not even Cecily. He would have liked her.

  A moment later I heard the sound of my father’s office door shutting. Impulsively I walked outside, called Cecily and asked her if she wanted to get married tonight.

  We decided to keep our elopement quiet. Cess borrowed her mother’s car to drive to Marlboro and get a dress. After work I stopped at home to pack a bag and then drove across town to get my bride. Tomorrow I’d call my dad and explain that I needed a few days off for the honeymoon. Cecily and I didn’t want a wedding. We didn’t want all the bullshit of bridesmaids and best men and a hundred guests who only showed up for the food. We just wanted each other.

  I felt bad that Cess’s ring was a cheap department store trinket. I swore I’d get her a better one as soon as I could but she just laughed and claimed this one was never coming off her finger.

  After five minutes of internet research I found a pastor in Cleveland who conducted wedding ceremonies in his basement for eighty bucks. The man’s wife and next door neighbor served as witnesses in the musty basement that was decorated with fake pink flowers and a white plastic decorative arch. It was a ridiculous way to get married but I didn’t care. Her eyes were shining as we joined hands and I knew I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of Cecily in a white dress.

  “I, Branson Thomas Hickey, take you, Cecily Elizabeth Barnett…”