watched the woman stride off toward the Jefferson Community Church booth. “My word, can she talk! Whew!”
Marcy whispered, “Amen to that. But so good-hearted.”
“Mrs. C, can I have a corn dog with Kelly?” Thomas, blue ribbon pinned to his chest for winning the sack race, skidded to a stop in front of her.
“Wouldn't you rather have chicken? You ate a hot dog for lunch.”
“No thanks.”
“Your grandma said yes?” Kit asked Kelly, who nodded emphatically. “Then fine with me, but make sure you find our blanket before dark. Your grandma and I are sharing. We'll light sparklers before the fireworks begin.”
Okay.” The two ran off.
“Cute kids.”
“Thomas is my neighbor.”
Marcy leaned closer. “Did you hear, Annie's reached stage four? It's all through her lungs. They just closed her up yesterday and sent her home.”
Kit shut her eyes, clasping her middle where she was sure she'd been sucker-punched. Dear God, no!
ELEVEN
Elaine tied the tails of her red-and-white-stripped blouse together at the waist and straightened the collar. The shirt, buttoned halfway up, showed off a red tank that topped navy pants. She rolled the cuffs on the long-sleeve blouse and slipped her feet into navy slides. The sun promised a nice day, and the weatherman said seventies, a perfect Fourth of July. She hooked American flag earrings into her ears and stepped back from the mirror to assess the outfit. “Can't get more patriotic than this.”
“Are you going to the park today?” she asked Juanita as she sat down at the table for breakfast.
The housekeeper nodded. “Si , my whole family. We all American citizens now.”
Elaine smiled back. She knew Juanitas sister and her husband had passed their tests and been sworn in as citizens only days earlier. Juanita had helped them, as she had helped Juanita.
“My madrey she not like to study, to speak new language.” Juanita picked up the pot and filled Elaine's coffee cup. “I bring fruit.”
“One egg, over easy, and toast are all I want.” Elaine glanced over at George's place. The paper was refolded as neatly as if never opened and lay by the plate. She reached over and flipped it open to read the headlines. Three people had died in a truck crash the other day, two more critically injured. The local VFW would have their entourage of veterans marching in the parade. One lone survivor of World War I would be pushed in his wheelchair. The Mariners won against the Yankees. When Juanita placed her food before her, Elaine smiled her thanks and ate without paying attention to the meal, except for giving Doodlebug his bit of toast. She finished with the Dear Abby column and closed the paper, folding it again, all in the same order just in case George found time to read more in the evening. He liked his paper in order and without wrinkles, definitely without articles or recipes cut out. She'd learned that early in her marriage, at times thinking she might order her own paper, like the Seattle Post Intelligencer , so she could do with it as she pleased.
After brushing her teeth, she gathered up the sacks of decorator pillows she'd sewn to sell at the hospital guild booth and checked to make sure she had her car keys before going out to the garage.
“Have a good time today,” she called just before closing the door. Juanitas distant “adios” came down the hall. Elaine set the sacks in the trunk, opened the garage door with the remote, and backed out her silver BMW, all the while humming a tune under her breath.
A snuffling, snorting dog doing his business on her side lawn made her hit the brakes. Bootsie finished by digging his rear feet into the sod, scattering grass and dead clippings over his offering.
“Get home, you stupid mutt, before I call the pound on you.” She slammed the car into park and bailed out to storm across the driveway, heading for the dog with murder in her eyes.
Bootsie, slobber drooling from his jaws, barked at her, his front legs
Marcy whispered, “Amen to that. But so good-hearted.”
“Mrs. C, can I have a corn dog with Kelly?” Thomas, blue ribbon pinned to his chest for winning the sack race, skidded to a stop in front of her.
“Wouldn't you rather have chicken? You ate a hot dog for lunch.”
“No thanks.”
“Your grandma said yes?” Kit asked Kelly, who nodded emphatically. “Then fine with me, but make sure you find our blanket before dark. Your grandma and I are sharing. We'll light sparklers before the fireworks begin.”
Okay.” The two ran off.
“Cute kids.”
“Thomas is my neighbor.”
Marcy leaned closer. “Did you hear, Annie's reached stage four? It's all through her lungs. They just closed her up yesterday and sent her home.”
Kit shut her eyes, clasping her middle where she was sure she'd been sucker-punched. Dear God, no!
ELEVEN
Elaine tied the tails of her red-and-white-stripped blouse together at the waist and straightened the collar. The shirt, buttoned halfway up, showed off a red tank that topped navy pants. She rolled the cuffs on the long-sleeve blouse and slipped her feet into navy slides. The sun promised a nice day, and the weatherman said seventies, a perfect Fourth of July. She hooked American flag earrings into her ears and stepped back from the mirror to assess the outfit. “Can't get more patriotic than this.”
“Are you going to the park today?” she asked Juanita as she sat down at the table for breakfast.
The housekeeper nodded. “Si , my whole family. We all American citizens now.”
Elaine smiled back. She knew Juanitas sister and her husband had passed their tests and been sworn in as citizens only days earlier. Juanita had helped them, as she had helped Juanita.
“My madrey she not like to study, to speak new language.” Juanita picked up the pot and filled Elaine's coffee cup. “I bring fruit.”
“One egg, over easy, and toast are all I want.” Elaine glanced over at George's place. The paper was refolded as neatly as if never opened and lay by the plate. She reached over and flipped it open to read the headlines. Three people had died in a truck crash the other day, two more critically injured. The local VFW would have their entourage of veterans marching in the parade. One lone survivor of World War I would be pushed in his wheelchair. The Mariners won against the Yankees. When Juanita placed her food before her, Elaine smiled her thanks and ate without paying attention to the meal, except for giving Doodlebug his bit of toast. She finished with the Dear Abby column and closed the paper, folding it again, all in the same order just in case George found time to read more in the evening. He liked his paper in order and without wrinkles, definitely without articles or recipes cut out. She'd learned that early in her marriage, at times thinking she might order her own paper, like the Seattle Post Intelligencer , so she could do with it as she pleased.
After brushing her teeth, she gathered up the sacks of decorator pillows she'd sewn to sell at the hospital guild booth and checked to make sure she had her car keys before going out to the garage.
“Have a good time today,” she called just before closing the door. Juanitas distant “adios” came down the hall. Elaine set the sacks in the trunk, opened the garage door with the remote, and backed out her silver BMW, all the while humming a tune under her breath.
A snuffling, snorting dog doing his business on her side lawn made her hit the brakes. Bootsie finished by digging his rear feet into the sod, scattering grass and dead clippings over his offering.
“Get home, you stupid mutt, before I call the pound on you.” She slammed the car into park and bailed out to storm across the driveway, heading for the dog with murder in her eyes.
Bootsie, slobber drooling from his jaws, barked at her, his front legs
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