Secrets in the Sand by Carolyn Brown

            “You being here is funnier than the time the preacher sat on the cake at the church social,” he slurred.

            He hadn’t seen her in three years, not since their day in divorce court. What a helluva time for her to show up. He noticed a few wrinkles around her eyes, and her blond hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it. Other than that, she was the same old Melissa, looking as if she’d just walked out of Vogue. He impulsively looked down at her feet. Her toenails were freshly polished. How many times had he been ready to go somewhere and had to wait for Melissa’s toenails to dry before they could leave?

            “Your mother said you might be down here fishing,” she said. “We need to talk.”

            “About what, Melissa?” he asked. “Talking with you is in the past. We’re divorced, and why are you even in Tishomingo?”

            “I come home every summer for a week to see Momma and Grandma, remember?” she said. “Since we got divorced, you’ve never been here when I am, and you’re too drunk to remember anything about me anyway.”

            “Oh, I remember very well. You were all sexy until we got married, and then you were an icicle. Did your new husband figure that out too? Have a beer. Maybe it’ll warm you up for him.” He held up a full six-pack, still held together with the plastic webbing.

            “You know I hate beer,” she snarled.

            “Then grab that bottle of bourbon under that tree bough, and we’ll drink to the good old days.” He laughed sarcastically.

            “You really are drunk,” she snarled again.

            “And you’re married,” Clancy reminded her. “I’ll get the damned bourbon. Never let it be said I was a bad host at my own self-pity party, even if you are an uninvited guest.” He slurred the last word and wobbled just a little bit when he stood up. In his topsy-turvy world, the sandbar swirled, and the moon dropped about six feet toward the horizon, but he didn’t fall.

            “Here’s the stuff.” He staggered back to the blanket, flopped down, and stuck his wrinkled feet back in the water. Ignoring his ex-wife, he fell back to stare at the stars again. “Sorry, I can’t give you a crystal glass to drink it out of. Just tip the bottle back and drink it straight.”

            “What’s gotten into you? You never drank,” she reminded him. “You always were the designated driver, even in the air force, and you wouldn’t even drink a glass of wine with me on our first anniversary.”

            “You wouldn’t understand.” He worked hard to make his words come out right.

            “Did I do this to you, Clancy?” she whispered.

            He chuckled down deep. The chuckle soon became a laugh, and he sat up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

            “Oh, Clancy.” She shook her head. “You were so brave through the divorce. I never knew I caused you this much grief. Have you been drinking ever since?”

            “Hell no!” He raised his voice loud enough to be heard all the way across the creek.

            “You poor man. I’m so sorry.” She sighed, but he knew her. That was the sign for him to give in to whatever she wanted.

            “You ought to be.” Clancy sat up slightly, then fell back on his old blanket again. “You ought to be sorry because you never did love me. You never loved anybody but yourself, Melissha.” He heard himself slur her name and made a mental note to work harder at keeping his words straight, because he damned sure intended to tell her what he thought about her while she was sitting there, acting like a soap opera star.

            “Oh, Clancy, I did love you. I never really stopped loving you,” she whined.

            “None of that matters a whole helluva lot, now, Meliss…a.” He was proud of himself for saying it just right. “Because I didn’t love you either. I just married you because everyone thought that’s what we should do. You had the wedding planned, and there were all those showers and presents, and I knew I’d be considered a real heel if I backed out of the marriage then. You know who I really loved? I loved Angela Conrad,” he said.

            “You’re full of crap,” she said. “You couldn’t love her. She was a nerd, and she’s probably off somewhere with a house full of snotty kids—”