by Nancy CoCo
“Sure,” Dad said, puffing up his chest. “I take it I got a better spot than you. Next time you need to get here earlier.”
Trent agreed, but I noticed that Paige nudged her boyfriend when he opened his mouth to correct my dad. I followed her boyfriend’s gaze toward a site closer to the lakeshore where their parents sat in elegant chairs under a mosquito screened tarp. They had a buffet table filled with plates of food, a couple tall bar tables covered in linens and their place settings were white china and crystal wine glasses. A man in a chef coat worked at a stainless steel grill. In comparison, our little fete seemed lacking.
Trent came over and put his arm around my waist and gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks for letting us crash your party.”
“There’s plenty of food. Who’s this?” Mom asked of Paige and her boyfriend.
“Mom this is Paige Jessop, Trent’s sister,” I said. “And her boyfriend . . .”
“Reggie.” Paige rescued me and patted the man’s chest covered in a pale blue polo . “Reginald Owens the third.”
Reggie had that New England old money look. He had light brown hair cut close and preppy. His jaw was square and his eyes brown. His teeth were braces straight and glowingly white. At six foot two, wearing a polo shirt with a sweater tied around his shoulders and plaid Bermuda shorts, he looked like a Ken doll.
“Paige, this is my mother Ann McMurphy and my dad, Patrick McMurphy.”
“The last time I saw you, you were ten years old and all about horses,” Dad said and shook Paige’s hand and then her boyfriend. “Reginald Owens, are you local?” Dad drew his brows together. “I don’t remember the name.”
“Reggie is from Long Island,” Paige said. “We met at my sorority’s national meeting in New York this spring.”
“My mother, grandmother, and sister were all members of the sorority,” Reggie said with a grin. “They dragged me along for a family weekend.”
“Looks like you’re happy you went.” Mom opened the cooler. “Drinks, anyone? We have wine and beer and ice tea and soda.”
She poured wine and beer into clear plastic glasses. Knowing that there was crystal glassware at the Jessop tent did not mean our plastic was any worse. Seriously, who uses actual glassware at a picnic? Besides, Trent and the others had come over voluntarily.
“I’ve got extra chairs,” Jenn said as she and Shane approached with their hands full of folding chairs. Mal rushed over to greet her the moment she was close enough for the leash to reach. “Hi Mal. Are you being a good doggie?” She patted Mal on the head.
Trent and Reggie were quick to take the chairs from Jenn and set them up for everyone.
“Don’t sit before you have your food,” Mom warned. “We’re eating buffet style.”
Before we had a chance to think, Mom had corralled us into some semblance of a buffet line with paper plates and plastic silverware in hand as we dished up the picnic food. Soon Sandy and her grandmother and the rest of her family walked by, but they, too, had seats on the lakeshore so they didn’t stay.
It was one of those nearly perfect days with the soft breeze off the lake keeping us cool and the bugs to a minimum.
Paige and Reggie left after we finished eating and went to be with the Jessops. The sunset was a gorgeous red and orange and green then blue. I sat cross-legged on the blanket with Mal in my lap. Trent lounged on his side behind me, his hand around my waist. Mom and Dad sat in their chairs and held hands.
Jenn sat in Shane’s lap and the local summer band began to play the “Star Spangled Banner.” We all oohed when the first firework screamed into the air and then exploded with a bang as the last strains of music floated through the air.
Fireflies came out winking in and out with their green lighted tails. Mal left my lap and tried to catch one or two before the next firework went screaming up. It split into three and gave us red, white, and blue giant flowers. She decided it was safest to be in my lap. I bundled her up in a blanket and held her close as the fireworks grew closer together and filled the sky with sparkles and rockets and large blooms that fell safely to the lake underneath.
Halfway through the show, I caught Jenn’s gaze and smiled and gave her a thumbs up. After all, she had found us the fireworks to replace the ones that were vandalized. She smiled and gave me two thumbs up back.
I didn’t know what I was going to do next year when she moved back to Chicago for a high-paying job. I watched how Shane looked at her with so much caring in his gaze and my heart squeezed. Maybe I wouldn’t be the only one to miss her at the end of the season. Maybe, just maybe, she would have a reason to come back next year.
The finale was a spectacular five solid minutes of every kind of firework along with a dizzying array of colors and booming sounds. Mal whimpered in my arms and I knew that tomorrow I would tuck her safely into her crate in the McMurphy for the fireworks. She didn’t understand the booms and bangs and the human excitement. I gave her a comforting squeeze and the sky, once full of light, shimmered back to a soft black. Stars popped out giving us the real show of the night.
People were tired as they packed up. Moms and dads carried sleeping children. Preteens ran through the darkness playing games of flashlight tag. The air was filled with the scent of sulfur and I tried not to think about the explosion that killed Rodney. Still, the smell brought it all back so clearly.
“You okay?” Trent asked. We stood and he held me in his arms.
“Yes.” I laid my head on his broad warm chest. “The smell brought back the day Rodney died.”
“Mal seems a little unnerved as well.” Trent hugged us both close.
“I don’t think she liked the fireworks as much as we did,” I said.
“Good job on the fireworks, young lady.” Mrs. Amerson and her husband Richard strode by. He carried a chair in both hands and a large umbrella under his arm. He wore a windbreaker jacket, a dark T-shirt, and light-colored Dockers slacks. It was difficult to distinguish colors in the darkness left after the fireworks, but his bright white hair shone in the night.
“Thank-you. It was a team effort.” I pointed toward Jenn with my head and then glanced at Trent to let Mrs. Amerson know that while I would have taken all the responsibility if things had gone badly, I wouldn’t take all the credit for the success.
“It shows.” She gave a nod and walked off. She wore a light-colored sweater over a V-neck T-shirt, and long slacks. Her hair was pulled up into a severe bun. In her hands, she carried a single blanket that might have been a quilt. It was difficult to tell.
“Can we keep our stuff up for tomorrow’s show?” Mom asked.
“No,” I said. “The Star Spangled Fourth committee ensures that all blankets and tarps and markers are taken down. No one is allowed to stake out a spot for the Fourth until twelve-o-one AM. That way, every day, everyone has equal chance of staking out a nice spot.”
“I think this spot works well,” Dad said as he pulled the tarp down. “Does everyone else agree?”
“We do,” Trent said and stepped over to help Dad remove the tarp from the poles and the poles from the ground.
“I’ll try to get out here first thing in the morning and put it back up,” Dad said as he put the rolled-up tarp into its carrying case.
“I’m working third shift or I’d offer to stake it out for you, Mr. McMurphy,” Shane said.
“Not a problem. I’ll set my alarm and get out here by six AM.”
“Maybe you should set it for five AM,” Mom said. “My guess is that there will be more people out for the fireworks tomorrow.”
“Hi Allie,” Cyndy Crumbly walked by with Oliver beside her. They were headed back toward town, both carried coolers with blankets rolled up on top. “Great show.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Hi Oliver.”
He lowered his head and muttered something in return. I assumed it was a nice greeting.
“We’ll talk later,” I said to Cyndy, who nodded and bumped into her son.
“Come on, Oliver. Let�
��s get home.”
“Is that the Oliver whose name is on the arson board?” Dad asked me as he picked up the cooler.
“The very same.” Holding Mal in her blanket, I picked up the remaining chair with my good hand. Trent helped by carrying the drink cooler I had brought out. “I don’t think he’s the fire starter. At least I don’t want to think so.”
“He certainly has reasons to be angry.” Frances and Mr. Devaney had come up the trail behind us.
“Where were you two?” Dad asked. “I had a great spot.”
“Douglas has a private place where he goes every year,” Frances explained quickly. Her tone sounded excited and embarrassed at the same time.
If it weren’t so dark out, I’d swear she was blushing.
“Is it big enough for all of us?” Dad asked. “We could be together tomorrow.”
“It’s quite small,” Frances said, her tone growing warmer.
“I keep it small so that my students can’t stumble in and ruin my enjoyment,” Mr. Devaney said. “It’s perfect for two.”
“I like where we were today, Dad,” I said in an attempt to rescue Frances from further embarrassment. It was clear they had enjoyed their secret space and alone time.
“I have to agree with Allie, Mr. McMurphy,” Trent said. “This really was a great spot.”
I wanted to kiss Trent for saying that. Frances’s shoulders relaxed a bit.
“Okay,” Dad said with pride in his voice. “I’ll come out early tomorrow and secure us the same spot. Frances, you and Doug are welcome to join us.”
“We’ll consider it,” Mr. Devaney said. “Good night.”
“We need to get to bed,” Mom said, linking her arms through Dad’s. “Especially if you are getting up early to stake our claim. Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”
Good night, Mrs. McMurphy,” Trent said. We let them stroll ahead of us.
“I wonder when Frances and Mr. Devaney are going to come clean about their relationship. It’s not like they’re hiding anything from anyone . . . except maybe my dad.”
Trent chuckled. He had his arm around me and I could feel the rumble of it that ran through his body. “Let them have their secret for a while. Maybe things are just too new for them to share.”
“They’ve been dating longer than we have,” I pointed out as Mal wiggled in my arms.
“Yes, well, I made my intentions clear and public from the start.” He squeezed me. “Come on. Let’s take this stuff back to the McMurphy while we still have some time to make out on your couch.” He waggled his eyebrows and I felt the heat of a blush rush up my cheeks.
“Oh.” All my thoughts melted into a pile of mush.
He leaned over and kissed me for good measure. It was a sweet and lingering kiss that promised more. I noticed that the park had emptied and the air was quiet. The stars twinkled overhead and the scent of dew was on the air.
Mal squirmed in my arms and I realized I was holding her tight. When I loosened my grip, she leapt out of my arms, gathered up her leash, and raced off.
“Wait, Mal!” I called. She was not headed toward the McMurphy. Silly puppy. She knew the way home.
“I’ll get her,” Trent said and handed me the cooler. He took off after her in the night.
While I didn’t have to worry about her getting hit by a car, I still didn’t like the idea of her running off. Anything could happen. She could be run over by a carriage or fall into a pit or something.
Okay the pit thought was a bit dramatic, but that didn’t stop the worry. I hurried after Trent as fast as I could encumbered by the cooler, chair, and blanket. It was hard to rush and juggle things with a splint on my thumb. “Mal, come back here!”
“Allie,” Trent called from the shadows ahead of me. “Stop!”
The tone of his voice made me freeze in place. “Trent?”
“Don’t come any closer. I mean it.”
“Trent, I can’t see you. What is going on?”
Mal barked.
“Do you have Mal?”
“Allie, listen to me carefully,” Trent said. “Do not come any closer. Do you have your cell phone?”
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t you? What’s going on?”
“I have Mal,” he said, his words careful. “We are tangled in what might be a trip wire for what looks like a bomb.”
“Oh, my, gosh, Trent.” I took two steps toward them before I realized what I was doing.
“Allie,” he said sternly. “Stop. Call 9-1-1. I can’t see where you are and I can’t see what other trip wires are around. I’ve got Mal. Call 9-1-1. Trust me, I don’t want to be the last firework of the night.”
Chocolate Chip Pecan Pie Fudge
4 cups pecans, chopped
2 cups mini dark chocolate chips
1½ cups packed dark brown sugar
1½ cups granulated sugar
1 cup half and half
3 tablespoon dark corn syrup
1 stick butter plus 1½ teaspoon butter for pan prep
2 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon maple extract
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place the chopped pecans on a baking sheet and toast them in the oven for about 8 minutes, stirring halfway through. Remove from the oven and allow the pecans to cool.
Prepare a 9x9-inch pan by lining it with aluminum foil. Butter the foil with 1½ teaspoon butter. Place 2 cups of dark chocolate mini chips in the bottom of the pan.
In a large heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the brown and granulated sugars, the half and half, and the corn syrup over medium heat. Stir until the sugars dissolve. Insert a candy thermometer, making sure it does not touch the bottom or sides of the pan, and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Allow the mixture to boil, until it reaches 238 degrees on the candy thermometer. This takes approximately 10 minutes. (I set the timer to help understand how long it takes for the temperature to reach this point.)
Once at 238 degrees, remove from heat. Take out the thermometer and stir in the butter, maple and vanilla extracts, and chopped pecans.
Stir the fudge vigorously with a heavy wooden spoon. (I break more spoons making fudge. It will get thick.) Stir constantly for 10-15 minutes until the fudge loses its shine and holds its shape.
Pour fudge into the prepared pan and smooth it into an even layer.
Refrigerate the fudge for at least 1 hour to set it.
Once set, remove the fudge from the pan using the foil as handles. Cut the fudge into small 1-inch pieces to serve.
Store fudge in an airtight container at room temperature for up to one week.
Chapter 21
I swallowed my panic, put down everything I was holding, and hit 9-1-1 on my phone. It was very late. I wasn’t sure who would be on dispatch.
“9-1-1. Please state your emergency,” said a male voice.
“Hi, this is Allie McMurphy,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m with Trent Jessop. He is tangled in what he thinks is a trip wire for a bomb.”
“Do not move!” commanded the male voice.
“We’re not. I’m going to put you on speaker. I think Trent can hear you.”
“This is Officer Pulaski. Where exactly are you?”
“We’re behind the school. We packed up our things after the fireworks and were moving through the lawn toward the McMurphy. My puppy Mal got loose and Trent went after her and got tangled.”
“Jessop, can you hear me?” Pulaski’s voice boomed out of my phone.
“Yes.” Trent’s voice was strangely calm.
“I’ve got Officer Brown and Office Lasko on their way there. Can you tell me exactly why you think there might be a bomb?”
“Yes, sir. I saw the dog go under some bushes, so I crouched down to get her. When I did, my knee hit a wire.”
“Do you have a flashlight?”
“I have an app on my phone.” Trent said. “I tucked the dog under my arm and hit my flashlight app. There is a bundle of something about a foot in front o
f me with wires running out of it. One of them is stretched across my knee.”
“Okay,” the dispatcher said. “I’ve got the bomb squad scrambling. It will take some time for them to helicopter over. Can you sustain your position?”
“I kind of have to,” Trent said.
“Good man,” Officer Pulaski said. “Allie, are there any other people nearby you?”
“No,” I said, looking around. “It’s just Trent and Mal and me.” I touched my own flashlight app on my phone and swung it around. The ground near my feet was clear. Luckily, when I put the cooler and chair down there hadn’t been any wires nearby. “It looks like we are behind the Hummingbird Cottage’s backyard. There’s about a hundred feet between us and the back fence and nothing much closer.”
“Okay. Take it easy. Allie, can you see any wires where you are?”
I looked around my feet. “I don’t see anything near me.” I squatted and flashed the phone’s light. “I can see where Trent went in. It’s damp enough that his footprints show. Okay, I think there is a wire about eighteen inches in front of me.”
“Don’t move,” Officer Pulaski ordered.
“Allie, don’t move,” Trent said at the same time.
“I’m not. You don’t move, either.”
Officer Brown and Officer Lasko came up behind me, walking in careful motion of one step in front of the other. They had powerful flashlights that illuminated the lawn.
“The officers are here,” I said to both Trent and Officer Pulaski.
“Okay,” Trent said. “Come on, Mal. Don’t wiggle.”
I could hear my puppy whining. She must have seen the new people approaching and wanted to run off to greet them.
“Mal, stay!” I ordered. The whining stopped.
“She isn’t going anywhere,” Trent said. “I’ve got a strong hold on her.”
“Allie McMurphy?” Officer Brown called my name.
I turned and had the flashlight shone in my eyes. I covered my eyes, blinking against the red dots left by the light. “Yes. There is a wire about eighteen inches in front of me. Trent is two yards in front and to the left of me. His knee is on a trip wire.”
