by Lyn Cote
He picked up a card and mentally recalled the suit he was trying for with this hand. He smiled to himself. He had drawn a wild card, a joker. He only had to play one other card and he would win this hand. His next turn gave him his chance. He laid down his cards and won.
The chagrin of the other two players was loud, but good-natured. The next hand was dealt, but this time Estelle and Tish changed places with Lucy and Jane. Lucy claimed Angie from Cash. Again the women watched the card play, urging on their favorites enthusiastically.
Cash glanced at the cheerful group around the table. He hadn’t really thought about what it would be like spending the Fourth with Jane’s family. Knowing Lucy as he did, he wondered why he had not guessed the day would be casual and lighthearted.
When it had been just his own family: Dena, Dad, and himself, there had never been much fanfare on any occasion. After their father’s death, Dena had chosen to spend most of her holidays with the Everetts. Now he could see why, but at the time he had been too busy with business to make much attempt at creating holiday cheer. He himself hadn’t needed other people to celebrate every special day. But Dena had loved being with the Everetts. Maybe Red had been right. Maybe Dena had wanted Angie to be part of this.
The fierce competition of Crazy Eights raged till the final hand and to Cash’s surprise, Henry won again.
“Hurray!” Estelle exclaimed. Grinning, Henry received his champion’s kiss from her.
“Now on to phase two!” Lucy declared.
Both Phil and Henry stood up with military straightness. At their encouragement, Cash followed their example. Out of the refrigerator, Estelle and Jane brought a huge platter of marinated beef back ribs. The pungent aroma of garlic, spices and tomato sauce went right to Cash’s taste buds. His mouth watered. “Ribs?”
Marge chuckled. “Didn’t Jane tell you we always have barbecued ribs for Independence Day?”
“No, if she had, I would have skipped breakfast,” he said honestly.
“Oh, dear,” Marge moaned as she wrung her hands in mock anguish, “I hope the extra ten pounds I bought will be enough.”
Laughter broke out among the Everetts. Cash looked around the kitchen. Only Tish was trying to behave nonchalantly, as if she felt embarrassed for his sake. All this dreadful year, every change of season, every holiday, even an unsentimental one like the Fourth of July, had brought bittersweet memories not only of Dena, but also their father and mother, as though the loss of Dena had reinforced all his losses. But he hadn’t been left completely alone. He still had Angie. She was all he needed, he reminded himself.
“Be off with you!” Lucy ordered.
Ceremoniously, Phil and Henry took charge of the platter, a long-handled pair of tongs, a pot holder mitt and a spray bottle of water.
“You don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” Tish said softly beside Cash.
“I wouldn’t want to shirk my duty,” he replied, trying to enter into the mood of the day. “I want to earn that extra ten pounds of ribs.”
Without showing any response, Jane listened to this exchange between Cash and Tish. Was it just Tish’s way of separating herself from the zany humor that her family favored? Or was her young cousin falling for Cash’s potent charm? After all, Jane had fallen young and hard.
Angie began to fuss. As the door closed behind the three men, Jane turned to the refrigerator to bring out a bottle to warm. Going through the mundane routine helped quiet her nerves.
* * *
After the ribs had been grilled to Phil and Henry’s standard of perfection, Cash watched as the Everetts took their places around the long redwood picnic table on the screened-in porch. The hot ninety-two-degree wind still blew, but an inside picnic was obviously impossible for the Everetts to consider.
In pleasant amazement, Cash viewed the feast laid out on the long table. The huge platter of aromatic ribs occupied the center. American potato salad with its pale mustard color had been decorated with a “sunrise” of egg slices. In addition, yellow corn on the cob with melted golden butter nestled beside the greens and reds of fresh vegetables on their tray. Pink-red chunks of watermelon filled a huge, green glass bowl and next to each place setting stood a tall, amber tumbler of iced tea, each with a generous wedge of lemon on the rim.
All around him, the easy banter continued. Unexpectedly he felt a thaw around his heart. He hadn’t realized he had been so frozen inside since Dena’s death till this day of warmth.
At the head of the table, Phil bowed his head. Everyone else became still with anticipation. Cash waited to see what Phil would pray. “God bless this food. God bless this family. God bless this land. Amen.” Then, as though a switch had been thrown, the chatter began again, and the bowls started their journey from hand to hand.
When the eating was complete, Cash felt unusually full and unusually satisfied. The food had tasted as delicious as it had looked. Glancing down he saw Angie at the foot of the picnic table, seated in her high chair. She had a little bit of the whole menu on her face, hair, hands, bib and tray. She was grinning widely and cooing.
Marge also caught sight of Angie. “Look at our beautiful grandchild, Phil.” Marge sprang out of her chair. “She looks good enough to eat.” She hurried to Angie and unhooked her from the chair. As Marge hugged her and kissed her on the nose, Angie beamed. “You sweet baby, we are so lucky to have you. Yes, we are. Our first grand baby. Can you giggle for your old grandma?” She tickled Angie once on the belly and Angie obligingly giggled.
Cash tightened inside. Grandma? Grandpa?
“Should we give Grandpa a messy kiss?” Marge asked Angie, carrying her over to Phil. Angie reached out with her chubby, gooey hands and, chuckling, Phil kissed them. When he tried to take the child from his wife, Marge pulled away. “You’ll get your turn later, Grandpa!”
Aunt Estelle said, “Henry, I think it’s time we—”
“Gave Phil and Marge their gifts,” Henry finished and went into the house, returning with a large paper bag. Grinning, he drew out two white hats. “This one’s for Marge.” “And this one’s for Phil.”
The two baseball-style caps were white except for the red lettering embroidered on the fronts. One read “Grandma.” The other read “Grandpa.” Obviously delighted, Phil and Marge both immediately put them on.
“Oh, Henry, they’re wonderful,” Lucy declared. “Where’s my camera?”
Jane went in, returning with Lucy’s old 35mm. Lucy quickly posed the beaming Marge and Phil as they held Angie between them.
While all this took place in front of him, Cash sat immobile. He fought the urge to break down into tears. Except for Lucy, he had never considered how Jane’s parents and family would react to Angie in their midst. That Phil and Marge would accept Angie as their first grandchild with pride and love had never entered his mind. Probably because he had never known his own grandparents. For so long there had only been just Dena and him.
He stood up abruptly and hurried outside, the screened door banging shut behind him. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked quickly down the wide steps to the Everetts’ pier and halted at the end of the wooden dock. Then he let the tears come while the hot, bold wind lashed him, drying the tears as quickly as they fell.
“Cash?”
Turning slowly, he saw Jane tentatively approaching him. It was as though he was seeing her for the first time. Her full lips the color of summer peaches were parted slightly. She glowed with life, vibrant and generous.
“Cash?” she repeated, pausing only a step from him.
Her concerned expression caused a spasm around his heart. “You didn’t need to come after me. I’m all right.” His mouth felt suddenly dry, and his voice sounded hoarse to his ears.
“Mom is concerned about you. She’s afraid we did something that upset—”
“I’m fine. Let’s go back. This wind feels like the Santa Ana in California.”
He watched Jane give him one more worried glance. Then she led him ba
ck up the steps to the house.
Later, when the hot wind that had blown all day finally stilled, and darkness tinted the high clouds the color of slate, Phil announced it was time for the sparklers.
They all trooped outside to the grassy lawn overlooking the lake. Phil sat on the back porch steps, Angie reclining royally on his lap. Nearby on an old canvas-and-wood lawn chair, armed with a butane lighter and a coffee can half-filled with water, sat Henry, the “lighter” and the “extinguisher.” Marge, Lucy, Estelle and Jane swirled with the sparklers, twisting and exclaiming over the variety of the sparklers’ fire: some traditional red and gold, and others startling green and blue.
Cash leaned against the house, watching the ladies and Angie’s captivated expression as she took in her first sight of sparklers. At the display of the dancing, sputtering sparks, the little girl’s mouth and eyes opened wide in absolute wonderment.
The ladies laughed and teased each other while painting bright but vanishing, patterns against the darkening sky. The sparklers’ sizzling sound punctuated the wash of waves against the nearby sandy beach. In the distance, while boats already chugged by toward town, more firecrackers and bottle rockets popped and exploded.
Cash felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of this long day. The Everett family Independence Day celebration captivated him as much as Angie was captivated by the sparklers’ shining colors.
Only one person did not seem to be enjoying this part of the celebration: Tish. With her waist-length golden hair reflecting the flash of sparklers, Tish walked toward him in an obviously planned-to-be-sexy walk. She leaned back against the house and assumed a seductive pose; one knee bent, her arms back. Cash smiled to himself as the young girl practiced her feminine wiles. Obviously Tish was at the age where she would not enjoy lighting sparklers. She wanted to distance herself from childish things.
The first words from Tish’s mouth proved his thought true. “This is so childish.” Tish grimaced. “I don’t know why they do this every year.”
“Angie seems to be enchanted by the show.”
“Sparklers are for kids. I mean, my family must seem really weird to you.”
Cash chuckled softly. “Every family should be this weird.”
Jane, from behind the dazzling light of her long, red Oriental sparkler, observed her cousin’s pose and the fact that Tish and Cash were talking privately. Jane felt the unmistakable nip of jealousy. At the beginning of the evening she had experienced a touch of that unreasoning fear of losing Angie to Cash. Now was she jealous of Tish? Why wouldn’t her emotions make sense? Cash was not going to take Angie, and he wasn’t interested in Tish. As the sparkler burned down almost to Jane’s fingertips, she yelped and dropped it.
* * *
By the time the sparklers had all been beautifully burned, Cash had allowed himself to be persuaded to go by boat to Eagle Lake’s fireworks display. With Angie riding on his shoulders, he walked in the midst of the Everetts as they all trooped down to the pier and boarded a large pontoon boat. On board, they settled onto lawn chairs and Marge passed out soft drinks.
In her infant life vest, Angie snuggled deep in Cash’s arms. He felt mellow for the first time since Dena’s death. For a moment he pictured his sister among them, smiling. For once, thinking of Dena brought no pain.
The boat slowly moved across the lake and through the Narrows toward town. The distant reflections of lights from the houses they passed flickered like candle flames on the water. He imagined Dena’s joy over the beauty of the night.
Within sight of town, Phil cut the motor and dropped anchor near several other boats. Friendly greetings from boat to boat were exchanged by acquaintances and strangers alike. Phil left on only the small boat lights, red and green on the front and white on the rear. They bobbed on the gentle waves. Cash leaned back in his chair, savoring the contentedness of this day, letting it spread through him.
From a hillside behind them, Jane caught glimpses of spirals from sparklers in the darkness and enjoyed the excited shrill laughter of the children, waving and twirling them. She glanced at Angie who was sound asleep in Cash’s lap. For once, no warring emotion tugged at her. Cash and Angie appeared so peaceful, she could not help but smile at them. Then her father murmured that the fireworks were about to start, and everyone focused on the sky over the city park. They all waited.
Letting herself relax to the soothing rhythm of the waves beneath them, Jane closed her eyes briefly. The day had not been strained as she had feared...except for her own short attack of jealousy over Tish’s attention to Cash. The spot on her fingertips where the sparkler had scorched her still felt as though it were on fire. A lesson against jealousy.
Boom! Jane jerked upright in her seat. She must have dozed off for a few seconds. As the town’s Fourth of July pyrotechnic show got off the ground, the sky above was sprinkled with golden sparks. She quickly looked to see if the sudden noise had wakened the baby, but obviously it would take more than fireworks exploding to disturb Angie tonight.
“Do you think she’ll sleep through all of this?” Cash murmured close to her ear. The flashes from the fireworks glistened in his eyes. She tried to take her gaze from him, but couldn’t. Reaching out, she lightly smoothed back Angie’s dark, wispy bangs.
Wap! The second projectile shot into the air, bursting into long magenta streamers. Wap! Wap! Two more escaped gravity—a huge yellow-gold chrysanthemum formation blossomed and disintegrated above them.
Inside Jane, fireworks went off, too. Cash had taken her hand in one of his. She was afraid to look at him. Her breathing became shallow.
“This is the way to see fireworks,” Cash said.
“Haven’t you been to Chicago’s extravaganza at Buckingham Fountain?” She could barely speak. She was careful not to move her hand. Why didn’t he let go?
“Sure, but that’s what makes this so different. No crowds. No traffic.”
The display caught Jane’s attention in spite of herself. “Ooh,” she heard herself and all the others in the boat voice appreciation.
Wap! Wap! Boom! Boom! BOOM! The series of thundering explosions unleashed cascading bursts of shimmering gold, red, white, and blue on the breeze. That breeze also carried the oohs and aahs from the “land” audience in town, but the dominant factor in Jane’s mind was her hand in Cash’s.
A full half hour of fireworks artistry dominated their attention. Cash relaxed his hold on her hand, but didn’t release her. The inner turmoil his touch caused echoed the riotous display of color and sound. Then came the grand finale. The sky was overtaken with a massive bouquet of scarlet, magenta, royal blue, gold. The booms and cracks echoed deafeningly, joined by shouts of approval and applause.
Silence. Jane looked over at Cash and smiled timidly. In the shadows cast only by the boat’s two small lights, she caught him studying her intently. Their eyes met. Jane’s senses zipped to an even higher level of consciousness.
Then he let go of her hand. He leaned down and kissed the top of Angie’s sleeping head, and Jane felt as though his lips had touched her also.
“Oh, is it over already?” Lucy’s complaint broke into Jane’s thoughts.
“Yes, Mother. You’ll have to wait till next year,” Marge said not unsympathetically. There were other similar sentiments made while Phil turned on the motor and they chugged toward home.
The rapid beating of Jane’s heart quieted very gradually on the long ride back. The now-cool lake breeze fluttered over Jane’s face and lifted her hair around her ears. As they headed toward home, Angie slept on beatifically in Cash’s arms.
Sometime later, after Jane hadn’t been able to find her car keys, she found herself being driven home by Cash. He escorted her and Angie inside, a picnic hamper and the diaper bag in his hands. All the bustle of the day had ended, and Jane felt as if they were the only people left in town.
Once inside the house, Jane went directly upstairs. A little Bo-Peep lamp on the high dresser softly illuminated Ja
ne’s room. Being alone with Cash after a day together made Jane intensely aware of her movements. Feeling Cash’s eyes on her felt like the touch of his hand on hers earlier.
From the doorway Cash watched Jane’s hands as they changed a soggy diaper and snapped Angie into a lightweight pink sleeper. Finally, when the baby was dressed comfortably and rolled to her back, Jane laid a thin white blanket over the sleeping child. Drawn to Jane as well as Angie, Cash quietly stepped closer to the crib.
Standing beside Jane, Cash caught the last fragrance of Jane’s cinnamon perfume and Angie’s baby powder. It was a compelling mix of scents: woman and child. The soft light in the room highlighted the bronze of Jane’s hair. The quiet buzz of the air conditioner and Angie’s contented breathing were the only sounds in the cozy room.
Cash couldn’t take his eyes off Jane’s profile. Her gleaming, warm copper hair, creamy skin glowing in the low light, her full lower lip. He observed her shiver and wondered if it was due to her awareness of him. Because he was certainly very aware of her.
That lower lip of hers drew his eyes down. He leaned forward...and touched his lips to hers. A breathless moment passed between them. Then as his lips played across hers, she gasped, fanning her warm breath against his mouth.
“Jane.” He pressed his lips to her again. They felt like satin and tasted spicy and warm. As she stepped nearer into his embrace, he felt her hands claim his shoulders.
“Jane,” he whispered again. His arms went around her. She fit against him so neatly.
The phone rang, and they fell apart as though a stranger had walked into the room. Jane hurried to answer it. Angie whimpered in her sleep. Cash stroked the child’s back till she quieted.
