Trent Reedy - Divided We Fall

Maybe it was time to admit to myself what JoBell had almost said tonight. I probably wasn’t going to college in Seattle or to any other big university. Yeah, I wanted to stay closer to home, but it was more than that. I wasn’t flunking out of high school, wasn’t in danger of not graduating, but my grades weren’t that great. So far this year, with the bad dreams about the Battle of Boise and even about Lieutenant McFee’s death keeping me awake all the time, and the waking nightmare of everything that had happened, I had not been able to focus on my schoolwork at all. What’s more is that I simply wasn’t able to make myself care about homework and grades. Never could. Is that why JoBell had turned me down? Because I wasn’t smart enough? Because she knew I wouldn’t be going to college with her?

I didn’t need college. I had my plan, my perfect plan, to take over the shop someday and raise a family here in Freedom Lake with my JoBell. What was the good of any plan if it didn’t include JoBell?

I pulled the ring box from my pocket and squeezed it in my fist against my forehead. Why had I asked her tonight? She was right. We were still in high school. Nobody got engaged in high school! That’s why she’d said no. None of that other crazy stuff mattered. Me and JoBell were good. Good for each other. Meant to be together. Soul mates or whatever.

I took a drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass in my shaky hand.

I had asked her to marry me because everything else in my life was falling apart. I was afraid that I would have to leave, and I didn’t want to lose my girl in the process. I only wish… How was I supposed to come back from a rejection like that? I’d tried to put our relationship on a higher level and she’d shot me down. What happened to us now?

Later, I did my duty as a good son and called Mom in Spokane, even though I really didn’t want to talk to anyone right then. She said she was fine, but I could hear the shadow in her voice, and my call log showed me she’d already tried to call me a couple times tonight while I’d had my comm on silent. Luckily, the conference had set her up in a nice hotel with room service that offered chamomile tea. She said I shouldn’t worry about her at all, but I’d been worrying about her my whole life.

The next day was worse than Monday. I still had the deadline for reporting for duty, but now I had a touch of a headache from last night’s drink, and I had to face JoBell. By the look on Becca’s face when she saw me, JoBell had told her about the flop proposal from the night before. At lunch, when I asked JoBell to come over that night, she made an excuse and then went to the bathroom. Becca would hardly look at me. She said quietly, “Give her a little time. It’ll be okay.”

So Tuesday night I sat alone on the couch, flipping through feeds on the living room screen to see if there was something live that was good. Of course, there was nothing worth watching, and I didn’t feel like catching old shows on the Internet. I sighed. “I’m bored enough to actually do homework,” I said to nobody.

The doorbell rang and I jumped up, thinking it better not be a reporter. I was pissed enough to finally give them a statement, and it wouldn’t be one they would like. I opened the door a crack so I could slam it shut if it was trouble.

And there Becca stood on the porch, smiling and holding a foil-covered pan.

I hadn’t expected to see her and had no idea what to say. “Um, hey.”

She laughed a little. “Can I come in?”

Reporters out in the street started taking photos. “Oh.” I opened the door and rushed her inside. “Yeah. Sorry. Sure. What’s up?”

“I know that your master plan was to eat frozen pizzas or canned soup all week.” She went to the kitchen, put the pan on the counter, and leaned over to start the oven. “But since my parents are on vacation in Florida with Eric’s mom and dad, I thought I’d bring you some real food.” She peeled the foil off the dish. “My famous lasagna. Won a blue ribbon at the 4-H fair freshman year.”

“You didn’t have to do this. I’m good with the frozen pizzas, really. Plus I have some fish sticks.”

“You’re good with that stuff, but it is not good for you. Plus, it’s too late. I’ve already made this. Now I have to bake it, and then we can eat.”

“But… That’s a pretty big pan. I hope you’re really hungry or counting on leftovers because I don’t think you and me—”

She leveled her gaze at me. “Relax,” she said. “The others are on their way over right now. If you are going to report for federal duty tomorrow, and this is your last night at home, we thought we’d send you off in style.” She reached up to unclip the shiny butterfly from her hair. “And no matter where you go, I want you to remember that you have friends back home who care about you.” She held the hair clip out to me. “Take this to remind you of that?”

Except when we were little babies, I’d never seen her without that clip. She’d told me once that her older sister had given it to her on the day she died of cancer, asking Becca to keep it to help her remember.

“Becca, I can’t take this,” I said quietly.

She grabbed my hand, opened my fingers, put the butterfly in my palm, and closed my grip around it. “Yes, you can.” She kept my hand in both of hers. “No matter what you choose. No matter where you go. I don’t want you to forget me. Forget us.”

“I could never forget you guys.” It was silent for a moment. Then I smiled. “And what if I stay home?”

She laughed and pushed my hand away. “In that case, I’m going to want that back.”

“Hey, you two didn’t start without me, did you?” Sweeney came in carrying a duffel bag that was obviously packed with some sort of box. “When the folks are away, the kids will play! My old man won’t miss a few beers.”

JoBell and Cal arrived next. JoBell shut the front door. “Damn it, Eric, why don’t you shout that a little louder? I don’t think the reporters or the cops heard you. Or do you want me to just call them and ask them to bust us?”

Believe it or not, a grumpy JoBell yelling at Sweeney actually made me feel better, closer to normal after the awkwardness from last night. She followed me into the kitchen, where we were alone, and kissed me on the mouth. When she pulled back, her face was still close to mine and her fingertips slipped down my cheek for a moment, sending tingles through me.

“You okay?” she whispered.

I took a step back from her. Somehow her concern bothered me. I’m not gonna lie, having my marriage proposal rejected last night hurt, but being treated like a wounded little puppy didn’t make me feel any better. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I said. “You know, forget about last night. I was an idiot.”

“No.” She put her hands on my upper arms. “Danny, it was beautiful, it’s—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s cool. I get it.” I broke free from her grip and went to join the others in the dining room.

As I came into the room, I heard the welcome crack-hiss of a beer being opened. “So my parents are gone,” Sweeney said. “Becca’s parents are gone, conveniently to the same Florida resort. And maybe this will influence your decision about tomorrow, buddy.” He tossed me a beer — a good, expensive one, Wild Moose, brewed in Montana. “I’m thinking I’m going to have to have a party at my house on Friday. A big party. Epic. An off-the-hook stupid party.”

“Hell yeah!” said Cal. He chugged half his beer. “Samantha’s kind of been giving me the eye in government class. I think this weekend could be it.”

“Down, boy,” Becca said. “Sorry, but Sam is so not into you. I happen to know that her and Chase Draper were—”