Chapter 6: The Fourth

The whole bay turned out for the Fourth of July.

By nine o'clock the public dock in Larch Harbor held three hundred people, forty lawn chairs and one very patient dog.

The sky was going from blue to violet over the water.

My mother had claimed a spot with a folding chair and a thermos before I'd even parked.

Dessa was beside her, wearing a glow necklace around her head.

"Sparklers after the real ones," my mother told her. "That's the law."

"Whose law?"

"Mine."

Ned had a cooler and a girl from the hardware store, and he waved at us with both arms.

Abram stood next to me with his hands in his pockets.

He wore a clean blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he had trimmed his beard.

I had noticed that for a full minute before I let myself stop.

"Everyone's looking at us," he said.

"Everyone's looking at the sky."

"The woman from the post office just waved."

"She waves at everyone."

"She winked."

"That's different," I admitted.

He laughed softly, and the sound went straight through me.

The first rocket went up, screaming, and burst into gold over the bay.

The crowd said "oh" all at once.

Dessa shrieked.

My mother put a hand on her glowing head.

Abram tilted his chin toward the end of the dock.

"Want to walk?" he asked.

"It's the only part of the dock with no chairs."

"That's what I'm counting on."

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