by Penny Dee
When they left, both Indy and I let out a big sigh of relief.
“Adults are weird,” she said, dusting off her knees. “I ain’t ever growing up.”
“You can’t stop growing up, Indy. It happens to everyone.”
“Well, then I ain’t ever getting married,” she said stubbornly.
“You gotta get married, too,” I said. “It’s the law.”
She pouted and folded her arms. “I don’t want to get married.” She raised those big brown eyes to me. “Do you want to get married?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe what?”
“If I get to marry you.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to marry me, Cade Calley?”
“Of course, I want to marry you, Indy. You’re my girl.”
So, there I was, on my wedding day. Standing in the warm August sunshine wearing a tie, my favorite jeans and the cleanest t-shirt I owned.
“You nervous?” Bolt asked. He was Indy’s older brother. He was eleven. I liked Bolt. He had a big comic collection—way bigger than mine—and he let me read them whenever I liked. Today, he was wearing a bow tie and his hair was slicked back with some of his daddy’s hair gel, or something. And he was wearing cologne. A lot of it.
“Nah,” I said nervously.
Bolt was marrying us. He didn’t own a Bible, so he held a Spiderman comic, instead.
“Are you ready, Cade Calley?” Came the bossy hollering of my future wife from the treehouse above us. She was hiding up there, waiting for the ceremony to start.
“Ready when you are, Indigo Blue.”
I nodded to Bolt who pressed the start button on the old CD player we had borrowed from his daddy’s garage, and Lynryd Skynrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” filled the Parrish’s backyard.
Indy appeared at the railing of the treehouse dressed in a white summer dress that was a little too big for her, with rows and rows of pearls around her neck. Except the pearls weren’t white pearls, they were all different colors, like the ones my daddy brought back from a ride to New Orleans.
As she grabbed onto the rope ladder and slid down to the ground, I nervously loosened my tie. I wished Isaac and Abby weren’t visiting Aunt Peggy’s sister in Tennessee. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so damn nervous. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. Indy was the best human I knew and I wanted her to be my wife. So, I figured it had less to do with me actually being nervous, and more about me having seen a lot of MC weddings and watching grown bikers turn green at the gills when they waited for their old lady to join them at the altar.
Indy did an awkward wedding march from the treehouse to where Bolt and I stood under the sycamore tree because her heeled shoes kept sinking into the soft ground. When she made it to where we stood, she and Bolt started to giggle, while I nervously adjusted my tie again.
“We are gathered here today . . .” Bolt began, his voice a much deeper, and louder version of his own. “To join these two kids in matrimony.”
I glanced over at Indy. She was already looking at me, smiling, her sweet face alive with happiness and her large brown eyes warm with child-like joy. She was holding a bouquet of wild bluebells and daisies she had stolen from Mrs. Wilton’s backyard. Mrs. Wilton lived across the road and was as mean as a goat. She was old and wrinkly, and this one time she had been yelling at us and her false teeth had fallen out of her mouth and broken on the ground. Mama said she was lonely and mean because Mr. Wilton had run away with Mrs. Wilton’s sister long before me and my brothers were born.
“Does anyone here have any good reason why these two shouldn’t be married?” Bolt asked.
The three of us looked around the empty backyard.
I had invited my mama, but she had taken Caleb to the doctor on account of his sore throat. They thought he might have laryngitis. Chance was at his friend’s house, and Daddy, well, Daddy didn’t do much of this stuff with us kids.
“Then I’ll have the rings, please,” Bolt said.
Indy hit him with her bouquet. “You can’t go straight to the rings, you doofus. You have to ask if we take each other in marriage.” She was smiling, but when she turned back to me she rolled her eyes as if Bolt was crazy to have forgotten.
He chuckled. “I know that. I just wanted to see if you was paying attention.”
“Of course, I’m paying attention, it’s my wedding day!” she cried dramatically.
Bolt pulled a face and then cleared his throat. “Cade, do you take my sister as your awfully wedded wife?”
Again, Indy rolled her eyes. “It’s not awfully wedded wife! It’s lawfully.”
“No, it’s not. It’s awfully. You ask anyone.”
Again, we all turned to look around the empty backyard.
“Whatever. Let’s move on,” I suggested. I turned from Indy to look at Bolt. “And yes, I do.”
Bolt turned to Indy. “Indy, do you take Cade to be your awfully and lawfully wedded husband?”
She grinned across at me. “I do! A thousand times, I do!”
I grinned back at her.
“Then let’s do the ring bit,” Bolt said.
I pulled the plastic skull ring out of my jeans pocket. It had come with the motorcycle model kit my Uncle Bull had given me last Christmas. It was painted grey and had two red eyes that looked like rubies.
Indy’s eyes lit up when she saw it.
“Your skull ring!” She gasped.
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say anything as I put it on her finger because none of us could remember how this bit of the ceremony went, so I stepped back and watched Indy hug her hand to her chest with girlie excitement.
“Cade Calley, you are the best husband in the world!” she declared.
Bolt cleared his throat to get her attention, and then gestured toward me with his head.
“Oh, yes! Of course!” she said gaily. She dug into the ribbon wrapped around her flowers and pulled out a daisy ring.
I raised an eyebrow at her and then frowned. A daisy ring? What boy wears a daisy ring?
“I got it in the lucky dip at the school fete,” Indy explained, her face bright with pride. “It’s real pretty. It’s made of real metal, and look, it’s got a big plastic diamond in the middle. See? June Nicholls was real jealous when I got it because all she got was a set of coloring pencils. So I let her borrow it one afternoon at school and she broke off one of the petals. She said it was an accident, but I’m pretty sure she meant to do it because she can be mean like that. My mama had to use some smelly glue to fix it back together again.”
Indy could talk.
A lot.
“It’s real pretty,” I said, feeling bad about not wanting to wear a daisy ring. It obviously meant a lot to her and she had given it to me.
Her face beamed with happiness. “You think so?”
I smiled back at her. “Yeah. I do.”
She squealed. “And now it’s yours.”
She slid the daisy ring onto my right hand. Indy said we had to wear our rings on our right hand, because if we put them on our left hand then we would really be married and the law said we would have to live together. I would have to leave school and get a job so I could put food on the table. Wearing our wedding rings on our right hand showed people we were married but that we were too young to live on our own just yet.
“I suppose this is the bit where I say youse is husband and wife,” Bolt said. He shrugged. “I guess you can kiss the bride.”
Kiss?
I had forgotten about the kiss.
I tried to swallow but my stupid tie was too tight.
I glanced at Bolt who was grinning, and then looked back at Indy who was standing there with a big smile on her face.
Waiting for me to kiss her.
My heart went stupid in my chest. I stepped forward and rested my hands awkwardly on her hips. I could feel my pulse pounding against my neck. I had never kissed a girl before, but I wanted to kiss Indy more than anything in the whole world.
&nb
sp; Quite suddenly, the unexpected sprinkle from a sun shower rained down on us. Indy’s face lit up in wonderment. She looked up and laughed, then dropped her big brown eyes to look at me again. Rain glittered in her hair like beads, and sunlight glinted on her lips just as she leaned in and pressed her mouth to mine.
I closed my eyes and my stomach tightened. Her lips were warm and soft, and I could smell the cherry flavor of her lip balm. The world seemed to stop, and all I knew was the gentleness of Indy’s lips on mine.
She pulled away and looked up at me with a big smile.
“You are the best kisser, Cade Calley.”
My cheeks flushed and I licked my lips, tasting her lip balm.
“Can I kiss you again?” I asked.
Indy’s eyes widened and her face was bright with happiness. “We’re married, Cade. You can kiss me as much as you like.”
I stepped in and pressed my lips to hers again, closing my eyes and losing myself to the softness of her mouth. Happiness burst in my chest and I smiled against her lips, thinking how good it was to be married to my best friend.
You can kiss me as much as you like.
Our kiss lingered and in that moment I vowed to be the best husband in the whole world.
And to kiss Indy every chance I got.
CADE
Now
I saw her as soon as I arrived. I was late because Bull asked Elias, Davey, and me to take care of some business out at Spank Daddy’s, and it had taken longer than we’d anticipated. So, by the time we got back to the clubhouse things were getting messy, including Indy. But she wasn’t just messy, she was almost fall-down drunk. Sitting on a barstool, surrounded by Mirabella, Jacob, Abby, Isaac, and Vader, she was slinging back a shot of something clear as I approached. When she saw me, her eyes narrowed and she gave me a smile that was anything but warm.
“And so the man of the hour returns!” she slurred, raising her empty glass at me.
“This should be interesting,” Jacob murmured to Mirabella as I walked past them.
I glanced at Isaac who gave me a you should probably run look. But I ignored him and focused on the stranger in front of me who had once been my very reason for breathing.
“It looks like you’re having a good time,” I said, ignoring how she swayed on the stool.
“You know what, I am! I am having a great time,” she slurred again. She banged her glass on the bar, almost slipping off the stool, and then slapped her hands onto her knees. “And who would have thought! I mean, I didn’t. Not in a million fucking years.” She looked around her, screwing her nose up as she took in the clubhouse and everyone in it. “I mean . . . I really didn’t!”
I eyed Randy, not impressed that he’d let her get this drunk.
“Two cocktails and two shots,” he said, raising his arms at his side. “That’s all it took.”
“So why are you so late?” Indy demanded with the obnoxious confidence of a drunk. “No, wait, lemme guess . . . you were with some hottie you couldn’t tear yourself away from . . . no! You were with two hotties . . . two hotties with big boobs, tight pussies, and no self-respect.”
“Jesus,” Vader muttered and turned away.
Mirabella stepped forward. “Indy, maybe we should go get some fresh air.” But Indy ignored her, because clearly, she wasn’t done yet.
“Or, maybe, you’ve got yourself a little lady stashed away somewhere. Someone whose heart you haven’t managed to stomp all over . . .yet.”
“What is wrong with you?” I asked.
“What is wrong with me?” She stood up and would have fallen on her ass if it wasn’t for Isaac catching her. She shrugged him off as if it was no big deal and came straight for me. Her eyes narrowed. Her cheeks turned pink. When she reached me, she shoved a pointed finger at my chest. “What’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with you? Who do you think you are, treating women like that? Does she know what you’re capable of? Does she know how you like to fuck club skanks behind her back?”
Indy was making a point. Even if the woman I was apparently cheating on didn’t actually exist.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said calmly.
She leaned in as if she was going to tell me a secret. “You forget, I know first-hand how you treat women.”
I always knew this confrontation was going to happen. But this . . . this was a train wreck. And very public.
“You’ve had too much to drink,” I said, standing very still while she wobbled on her feet.
“I haven’t even started drinking,” she slurred. She swung around to Randy. “Another shot, barman!”
“I’m taking you home,” I said grabbing her wrist. But she wrenched it free.
“Don’t you tell me what to do!” She glared at me. “You don’t ever get to tell me what to do.”
“We’re not doing this here,” I said.
“No. You’re right. We’re not doing this at all.”
She stumbled off.
“I’ll make sure she is okay,” Abby said, brushing past me. “Crazy-assed bitch.”
I turned back to Isaac who handed me a shot of whiskey.
“Here, I think you’ve earned it.”
I slung it back and signaled for another.
Something told me the trouble had only just started.
INDY
Now
I was drunk.
And you know what, it felt fucking great.
I hadn’t had this much fun in for fucking ever.
I stumbled against the jukebox and pressed my palms against the glass to hold me up. I admit, I had trouble focusing on the playlist. The black letters swam in front of my eyes before slowly coming into focus.
“Okay, you fucking drunk,” Abby said, walking up beside me. She leaned a hip against the jukebox and folded her arms across her chest. “I think you need to go home and sleep it off.”
I sighed dramatically. “What is it with everyone thinking they can tell me what to do?”
“You’ve had enough, Indy.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, I haven’t even started to let down my hair.”
“Oh, is that what you call that?”
I ignored her and kept reading through the playlist. It was taking me a while because the words would go in and out of focus.
“You just attacked Cade in front of his friends.”
I looked at her and narrowed my eyes. “Whoos’ide are you on anyway?”
“His. I’m on his side because you’re acting like a crazy bitch.”
I pulled a face at her and then shrugged it off. “Whatever.”
Twelve years’ silence was a lot of time to separate alliances.
“You both have some talking to do, but here is not the time and place.”
“I’ve got nothing to say (hiccup) to him. . .”
“We both know that’s a load of shit. You two need to sit down and talk about what happened and find some kind of peace with it.”
When I looked at her I saw two of Abby. I swayed as I tried to focus on just one of them. “Want to know a secret?”
She didn’t look impressed. “Not really.”
“I don’t care what he. . . (hiccup) . . . has to say. I’m burying my monster of a father in four days and then . . . I’m gone . . .” I pretended my hand was a plane taking off and flying away. I even made the sound. Because apparently after four drinks I was five years old.
“Just like that? You come back and then just leave?”
“Yup. Just like that.” I tried clicking my fingers but they didn’t work.
Abby pushed off the jukebox and shook her head. “What happened to you?”
The way she said it—with disgust—got me pissed. I narrowed my eyes.
“You were my best friend. Why are you not sticking up for me?”
“Best friend? You’ve ignored me for twelve years,” she snapped. But then her face softened. “You can’t just show up here after twelve years of nothing and expect me to feel sorry for you. H
e hurt you, Indy, not me. Yet you abandoned me when you left him and it hurt. So, forgive me if I’m not rushing to your defense. I did that a lot in your absence but your continued silence kind of dampened my loyalties.”
Abby had never been one to show her emotions. She was tough. Stoic. But even in my intoxication I could see how my actions had hurt her. It made me feel bad. And because I was drunk, it made me defensive.
“I got out of this shithole and made something of myself. You should be happy for me. I’m not that brokenhearted girl anymore.”
Abby’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well whoever that girl is now, she can kiss my southern ass.”
I watched her walk away, then turned back to the jukebox. Closing one eye in a pathetic attempt to focus, I found the song I was looking for and pressed the button.
CADE
Now
I found her standing in the doorway to my bedroom. Standing being a generous description. In reality, the doorjamb was holding her up. And she was staring into the room as if it mesmerized her.
“What are you doing?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she was doing.
She swung around and her eyes narrowed. “Thought I’d check out the scene of the crime.”
I inhaled deeply. This was always going to go down. But I had hoped it would be when she wasn’t behaving like an inebriated asshole.
“Fine. You want to do this now—here I am, Indy. In the flesh. Give me your best shot.”
She huffed. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
“Of course, you do. You have twelve years of pissed to fling at me.”
“You know what, you’re right. I am pissed at you. And it’s fucking insane because it’s been twelve years and I really shouldn’t give a fuck. But now that you bring it up, fuck it. You’re an asshole.”