Page 43 of The Leaves In Autumn
Our holiday celebration has morphed over the years. I suppose everything does, as we age and as new celebrants arrive to change the game. And the games. As we pull closer to Nobel’s, it is obvious there is a new sheriff in town.
“Look. One tricycle. That’s the bike parade this year. All the kids have grown up.”
“How cute! Look at the ribbons!”
“That’s our old trike. It was mine, then each brothers.”
“Poppy is going to love it. And soon she’ll have company. Layla and Van’s baby. Oh, look!”
The family is exiting the house and getting ready for the big trip up and down the driveway and across the front of the house. A dressed for the occasion Poppy is being attended to by Scarlett and my mother.
“She looks adorable! Look at that hat!”
“She’s a doll.”
“Is Teddy coming?”
“Later. The boys are bringing dates. I don’t even know if they still use that word. But, there will be girls involved.”
Barbra chuckles and it confirms I am right. And hopelessly out of date.
We park at the end of the cars and get out to the waves of Parrish and the open arms of a bedazzled Dad. The jeweled jeans show up every July Fourth. Fake rubies, diamonds, and sapphires line the outer seams. He loves it. His long hair is braided with red and blue ribbons. Mom has on her usual for the holiday. The long flag skirt and the short and body-hugging white tank. Both are barefoot and wear stacked bracelets.
“Your parents are so cool.”
Dad calls to us.
“Perfect timing!”
He tilts his head, cups an ear, and points to the sky.
“I hear it!”
Sounds of “You’re A Grand Old Flag” fill the air. It takes me back to my teen years. I have to tell Barbra.
“I made out with some girl to this song at my parents’ place when I was in high school. One of the least sexy songs ever written. Dad thinks it’s hysterical.”
“What? You freak!”
“What was I thinking? Never mind. I withdraw the question.”
One eyebrow lifts in response.
I grab the red, white, and blue cupcakes I bought yesterday at Albertson’s and Barbra carries a foil covered something she may or may not have made. The odds are with the latter.
“What did you bring?”
“I made Rice Krispie Fourth of July squares. It was Layla’s idea. I didn’t know what to bring from my vast repertoire of recipes.”
“Nice. Everyone likes those.”
Secretly I am laughing. What a pair we make.
“Put those in the kitchen,” Mom says as we climb the porch steps.
I plant a kiss on her cheek as I pass.
“Good morning, Barbra! I think it’s still morning.”
