Shallow Creek

Brendan laughed and the two walked across the street from Schmidt’s to where Trish’s neon lights beckoned all-comers.  Inside, the same bartender from a couple of days ago welcomed them warmly and asked what they wanted before they even reached the bar.  Apparently Brendan’s mauled face didn’t faze the young woman, because her smile didn’t skip a beat as he ordered a bottle of Shiner, while Michelle opted for a frozen margarita.  While they waited, Brendan and Michelle alternated between looking at each other and glancing around the bar aimlessly.  Blind dates probably went smoother than this.  The bartender returned and Brendan paid cash.  Armed with alcohol, the pair found a booth in the corner.

“So you read any good books recently?” Michelle asked.  Both of them cracked up a bit, and the laughter vented some of the odd anxiety between them.

“Yeah, John Scalzi’s got some great sci-fi stuff I’ve been into recently.  What about you?”

Michelle grinned.  “Between Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey, I’m set for life.”

“I have no idea what those are, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

Michelle set her drink down, a look of disbelief on her face.

“Are you serious?  Where have you been the last six years?”

“The Marines.” He took another drink from his beer.

“Not much time to read girlie stories in the Marines?” she asked, emphasizing girlie.

Brendan chuckled.  “Not really, no.  I’d never hear the end of that from the guys.”

The televisions around the bar switched channels suddenly, and a silent broadcast of recent high school football highlights played.  Brendan’s mood dipped down at the sight.  The bartender appeared, asking if they wanted another round.  She glided away when Brendan nodded darkly.

“You follow the Coyotes at all while you were gone?” Michelle asked him, so engrossed in the highlight reel that she hadn’t noticed his change in demeanor.

“No.” He tried to keep a lid on the can of worms rattling around.

The bartender appeared with their drinks.  Michelle didn’t seem to notice as her empty glass was traded out for a full one.

“Me and Grant go to almost every game still,” she continued, totally sucked into the TV.

“Good for you.”

Michelle quietly drained most of her second margarita while the broadcast continued.  The conversation was apparently on hold for now, so Brendan’s eyes naturally roamed where they pleased.  Damn, she was attractive.  Her flannel blouse hung open just enough to show she was only wearing a bra and no tank-top underneath.  Even her slender forearms and graceful neck drew Brendan’s attention.  Had he noticed all of this a decade ago?  Shit, if not, he’d been freaking blind.

The show went to commercials, and Michelle turned back to Brendan.  He wondered if she’d remember why he wouldn’t give a crap about the local high school football team.  A few beats later he saw the light go on behind her eyes.  She stared down at her now empty glass, blushing a bit.  Brendan took the opportunity to wave to the bartender for two more drinks.

“Grant likes watching the games?” Brendan asked.

Michelle looked up and nodded.  “Yeah, he does, but sometimes he finds it a little hard to watch,” she said.  “Especially if he thinks he was better than the QB out there.”

“He still get really pissed off about that?” Brendan asked as the bartender showed up with their order.

“You know how it is,” she said noncommittally.  Her eyes drifted back to the television on the wall.

He watched her staring at the TV screen, which still silently cycled through commercials for new trucks and barbeque pits.  The marketers definitely knew the audience in Shallow Creek, but what worried him was the faraway look on his friend’s pretty face.

“Grant ever hit you, Michelle?” he asked casually, before taking another sip of his beer.

Her drink froze at her mouth.  She slowly turned to him and put the slushy margarita down.  Maybe it was just the result of the two drinks she’d thrown back in no time, but her cheek’s reddened again.

“No, he wouldn’t ever hit me,” she whispered, eying the bar’s other occupants.  “And you shouldn’t say things like that so loud.”

“He had a mean streak in school.”

“He changed after you left.” She leaned against the backrest of the booth’s bench seat.  The alcohol flowed in her tone now.  Brendan had only put away two and a half beers, so his decision making wasn’t affected, but he knew he was about to embark on an unwise conversation.

“I was surprised when you married him.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, not looking happy.

“Bit creepy, that’s all.”  He took another swig while she glared at him.  “He was already out of school when you were a freshman.”

“So what?  It’s not like we dated in high school.  Four years difference isn’t weird for consenting adults.”

“I leave town and my brother hooks up with my best friend,” Brendan said.  “You think that’s normal?”