Chapter 35
Cecily
Dom is trying to kill me quietly. Softly. Without the use of violence or weapons.
How about you tell me when you're nearing combustion, and I'll make sure it doesn't happen?
What does that mean? And why does it seem like he wants me in a silent tizzy, mulling over his intentions until I collapse?
The man is diabolical.
There's no time to think about it now, because the gunfight at the O.K. Corral is underway. Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday jump and roll, shoot and stagger. It's the lawmen versus the outlaws, hollering and leaning into their questionable and campy but altogether fun accents.
We're sitting in the stadium-style stands, watching the popguns smoke and the booted men kick up dust. Duke sits on one side of me, Kerrigan on the other.
Dom is between Rainbow and my grandma. My parents are one row above us.
I split off from Dom when it came time to take our seats.
I've been mentally agonizing over what he said in the car, and standing beside him smelling his cedar scent was too much for me.
I needed a break, hoping distance would break the spell I fear I'm finding myself in.
Dom is, well, a lot of things. Great things. And I can't think this about him while simultaneously smelling his delectable scent, or feeling the warmth of his arm when it brushes mine. It's too much.
Dom catches my eye during the ending scene, where guns blaze and men give their all to the reenactment of the famous gunfight. He makes a finger gun, points it at me and shoots, blows on it, and pretends to holster it.
I shake my head at him like What a nerd I cannot believe you did that. What I think, but do not dare reveal, is Nerds aren't supposed to be so hot.
The show wraps up, and my mom says she'd like to wander through the town. "I want to buy kitschy shit."
Duke starts to disagree, but my dad talks over him. "Ok, Mare. Let's go buy kitschy shit."
They walk off. My dad reaches for my mom's hand.
Like Kerrigan and Duke, I stand agape. "When was the last time you saw Mom and Dad holding hands?"
"Probably around the last time he called her Mare," Duke answers.
"Grandma," Kerrigan says. "Did you sprinkle something on Mom and Dad's oatmeal?"
"That was me," Rainbow chimes in. "My famous Reconnection powder."
"Famous to whom?" Kerrigan asks.
"I'm only joking," Rainbow says when she sees Duke's stormy expression.
He glowers. "Don't make jokes that could be taken as truth."
"Or as poisoning," I add.
Rainbow steps away, suddenly very interested in the chalkboard menu at a nearby soda fountain.
"Quit being so nice to her," Duke says to Kerrigan through clenched teeth.
"Quit being so mean to her," Kerrigan volleys. "She's doing a nice thing for Grandma." Kerrigan looks to me for backup, but she won't find it.
"Sorry, Kerr. I'm with Duke on this one."
"You two are so cynical. I actually feel sorry for you."
Duke shrugs. "And you're too trusting." A buzzing sound emerges from his pocket. "Excuse me," he says, smoothly stepping away.
Kerrigan looks put out, so I suggest a treat from the soda fountain. Grandma perks up at the idea.
"Nothing better than eating your feelings," she announces, jostling Kerrigan with her elbow.
Grandma orders a sarsaparilla float and swears it tastes just like the one she used to get at the ice cream shop in Olive Township when she was a teenager. "That was where I met your grandfather," she tells us, dipping the long-handled spoon deep into the tall glass.
"What did he look like?" Dom asks, taking the spoonful of chocolate ice cream and caramel sauce I scooped.
Just when I think he's going to place it in his mouth, he feeds me instead.
The sweet sting of sugar, the burst of cold from the spoon, and Dom's warm eyes on mine.
Heady combination. Surrounded by my family, but still my toes curl in my sandals.
He slowly drags the spoon from my mouth, scoops up a bite for himself, and places it upside down on his tongue. I look away. I cannot watch that spoon slide from his mouth. Combustion will most certainly occur.
"Your grandpa worked there," Grandma says, launching into her story with that fuzzy look of nostalgia.
"Wore a pageboy cap and vest. It was their uniform, but it looked better on him than it did on the other employees.
I went in when I knew he'd be working, but Tessa Bredesen was already there. She liked him, too."
"What did you do, Grandma?" Kerrigan asks around the extra-wide straw of her chocolate malt.
"What any self-respecting young lady of that era would've done. I yanked that bitch back by the scruff of her neck and tossed her out." Grandma jerks her chin and thumbs sideways. "Louis was mine, and that was that."
"Grandma, are you telling the truth?" Kerrigan asks, wide-eyed.
Grandma winks. "Anything can be true, as long as you tell the story with your chest."
"So it's not true?"
Grandma shrugs. "I didn't say that."
We're laughing when Kerrigan turns to Rainbow and says, "Sorry about my brother. He doesn't mean to be so rude."
"Sure he does," Grandma argues. "He could really use a woman. Someone to put him in his place once in a while, and provide him with an outlet, if you know what I mean."
"He had Daisy," Kerrigan points out.
"Daisy was Duke's fiancée," I explain to Dom. "They broke up at the wedding. It was super dramatic."
Dom blinks. "That's terrible."
"Objectively, yes," Kerrigan says. She wipes at the corner of her mouth. "But there was someone else for Daisy, and it would've been a mess if they didn't realize it first."
Rainbow nods sagely. "Duke's bad energy is making more sense now. He had his heart broken."
"I don't think so." Kerrigan shakes her head. "Daisy was a good match for Duke on paper, but they were more like friends than lovers. The Hamptons and Daisy's family go back a long way. Like, generations."
"Don't get me started on my father-in-law's—God rest his soul—childish feud with Byron St. James." Grandma rolls her eyes. "Those two families were always going at it. It was entertaining."
Dom's phone rings, and he looks around with an apology. "It's one of my authors. I need to take this."
He steps onto the old-timey Tombstone street, phone against his cheek.
"He's a doll, Cecily," Grandma says, watching him through the large front window. "It's obvious he loves you."
"Oh yes," Rainbow chimes in. "You can feel it in his energy."
"Sort of how you felt Duke's broken heart in his energy?" Kerrigan teases.
"Say what you want, but that man has a sadness about him," Rainbow defends. "If it's not from a broken engagement, it's from something else."
She and Grandma share a look, one that says they've discussed this before. What else do they discuss? Is Rainbow my grandma's confidante? Does she know her secrets? Her fears?
Big Nose Kate's Saloon is where Grandma chose to end our day in Tombstone.
The floor is a warm-colored parquet, with a bar running the length of one wall. Colorful strands of Christmas lights shine off bottles of booze. An old man wearing a red bandanna around his neck plays the harmonica in the corner. His setup is simple, just a chair and microphone.
The hostess leads us to a table in the back, and we wind around seated tables to get there. The place is cramped in that way that doesn't feel like an annoyance, but more of a shared understanding between the patrons that we are all here to partake in something.
The hostess snaps our menus down on the table and tells us Queenie will be with us shortly.
"That's it," Grandma declares, smacking the plastic menu on her open palm. "I'm changing my name to Queenie."
"Sort of feels like it should've been your name all along," my dad says, a note of fondness in his voice.
I sit up straight, the words what the hell hovering in my throat. Where is my indifferent father?
A warm hand presses against my back. Rubs a gentle circle. Dom. His lips meet my shoulder. He says nothing. He doesn't have to. The communication is received. I'm here.
Queenie ends up being an inch below five feet tall. She is ghostly pale, with jet black hair in a pixie cut. She wears dream catchers as earrings, and earns a compliment from Rainbow.
We order two pitchers of beer, one a fruity cider and the second a stout I want no part of. Duke does an internet search trying to learn the story behind Kate with the Big Nose.
"A soiled dove of the American West, and on-and-off girlfriend of Doc Holliday," Duke reads theatrically as Queenie arrives holding two pitchers in one hand and a sleeve of cold glasses in the other.
Dom reaches out to offer help, but she's faster, moving with the grace of someone who has performed the maneuver countless times.
Duke continues, "While the dance hall girl was attractive, she did have a prominent nose. "
"She also had a temper that matched Doc Holliday's," Queenie adds, pouring a beer. "And she was tough and stubborn."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Dom says in a voice meant only for me.
I reach for the cider, bringing it to my lips. "Don't even think of calling me soiled dove as my third nickname."
Dom's thumb grazes my thigh under the table. Around my kneecap. Back up the inside of my leg. Hot sparks of desire shoot through my chest.
"You're looking piqued," Dom says, bringing his beer to his lips with the hand that is not currently tormenting my leg. He takes a deep swallow, throat bobbing.
"I'm fine," I insist. I'm not. I'm anything but.
Back down my leg he goes, and this time when he gets to my knee, his fingers slip into the crease. His grip on me tightens, and in his grasp I feel one word: mine.
It makes me think of our kiss two days ago, the way the boulder dug into my skin and Dom's lips teased my mouth open, the swipe of his tongue and the way my breast looked in his palm.
I suck down half my beer. Fan myself. Who turned on the heat in this place?
"Hot, Menace?"
I turn to look at him. He wears a smirk. And in his eyes, a hunger.
"I've noticed something interesting."
"What's that?"
"You call me Chestnut when you want to be sweet." My voice lowers, and he leans in, a lock of his hair falling over his forehead. "And you call me Menace when you want to fuck me."
Muscles along his jaw tense. "Wrong."
My eyebrows lift. "How so?"
His fingers flex on my leg. "It doesn't matter if I call you Chestnut, or Menace. I always want to fuck you."
His words send a current of electricity straight to my core. "Combustion imminent."
Understanding filters through his eyes. Grabbing my hand, he hastily hauls me up from the table. My family watches us, waiting for one of us to explain our behavior.
Dom is quicker than I am. "Cecily and I are going to check out the gift shop. I'm sure my parents would love souvenirs from here."
"Do you want to wait until we place our dinner order?" Mom asks.
I'm still getting used to the fact that my mother has returned from her years-long hiatus. "Two pulled pork sandwiches. Coleslaw. Fries. Thanks." I don't have a clue if Dom likes to eat the foods I rattled off, but that's what he's getting.
Dom pulls me in the direction of the gift shop attached to the front of the store. He leads me directly through it, and out the front door. We spill out onto the main street, where a hot pink and orange sunset streaks over the western sky.
Dom pulls me in close, running his fingers through my hair. "I have a plan."
"I don't have one, so I guess we're going with yours."
Dom walks me down the dirt street, to the parking lot beyond. I put on the brakes, shaking my head. "I don't think Bernice—"
Dom tugs me harder, urging me to keep pace. "I have the keys to the motor home."
"Why in the world do you have the keys?"
"I have one of three."
I could ask how Dom ended up with a key, but I don't really care.
All that concerns me now is getting my hands on my husband. And his, on me.