band struck up ‘The Stars and Stripes Forever’, and while there seemed scant agreement among the brass and woodwinds as to the key, the crowd applauded. The Pittsville High School Cougars Marching Band led the procession down Central Avenue, past the offices of the Pittsville Herald, where it would turn onto State Street and make its way towards the municipal park. The annual Pittsville Fourth of July parade was under way.
The boys sat on the kerb, below the press of adults, granted a clear view by virtue of their diminutive size. Each held a tiny American flag in his right hand and waved it vigorously. While the televised Rose Parade might hold little interest for them, this celebration of high school band, homemade floats and local celebrities in cars from the nearby Buick agency fascinated them. There was a raw exuberance, a joyous, genuine feeling of festival, neither had experienced before.
Patrick elbowed his brother. Nearly any excuse was good enough for a sibling brawl and Sean made ready for a scuffle. But he halted when Patrick said, ‘There’s Gabbie!’
Phil and Gloria stood behind their sons and waved as Gabbie and Jack rode into view. A group of local horse breeders and fanciers had organized a mounted company, all decked out in Revolutionary period costumes. Jack sat on John Adams, dressed in a woodsman’s outfit, complete with a coonskin hat and a flintlock rifle from someone’s attic. Gabbie wore a fine gown, which probably should have been in a museum, rescued from someone’s family trunk for the occasion. It was of rich silk brocade, tight at the waist and low-cut, showing her figure to good advantage and displaying an ample portion of bosom. Her appearance was greeted by several loud whistles from the older boys in the crowd. She blushed and Jack looked irritated. Spying her father and stepmother and the boys, she waved. As she passed, she mouthed the word ‘side-saddle’ and rolled her eyes heavenward, as if in despair. Gloria laughed and nodded, indicating she understood Gabbie’s discomfort.
As the riders passed, Gloria said, ‘Isn’t she lovely.’
Phil nodded, his expression revealing his deep love for and pride in his daughter. Gloria smiled to herself as she said, ‘Jack certainly looked handsome, too.’
Phil shrugged as a group of children from the William Pitt Middle School came by, marching with a determination worthy of a military guard of honour. ‘I guess,’ he said absently. Gloria laughed. ‘What?’ he asked.
‘Just your overprotective fatherly instincts coming out again, that’s all.’
‘Me?’
Gloria watched as Jack and Gabbie turned down State Street, out of sight. ‘I may be wrong, but it looks like things might be getting a bit serious between those two.’
Phil looked incredulous. ‘What? They’re just kids.’
‘Not according to the state of New York, lover. Both can vote and do most of the other things restricted to supposedly responsible adults.’
‘Well, they’re pretty young, any way you look at it.’ Gloria laughed again, and her husband looked irritated. ‘I’m being funny, huh?’ Gloria only nodded as she sought to stem her amusement. Finally Phil smiled at her. ‘You think it’s getting serious?’
From below, Sean said, ‘Well, they sure kiss a lot.’
Both parents looked down and Gloria said, ‘Have you been spying on your sister?’
Patrick sounded impatient as he looked up at his mother. ‘Cripes, they say good night under our window.’ He puckered up and pantomimed kissing Sean, who laughed and pushed him away. ‘Kissy, kissy.’
‘Hey!’ commanded Phil, trying to sound stern. ‘Lay off Gabbie.’ But he saw his wife’s amusement, a reflection of his own.
At last Gloria said, ‘Cut her some slack, guys. It’s not too many years down the road before you’ll be doing plenty of the same thing. And if God’s got a sense of humour, your girlfriends will have little brothers.’
Both boys made faces, as if the suggestion was worthy of a place alongside eating liver and visits to the dentist. ‘Ugh!’ was Sean’s comment, while Patrick shook his head.
The parade continued, and when the last of the homemade floats was past, Phil said, ‘Let’s get over to the park.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’ve got an hour before all the ceremonies are over, so we can set up the picnic and have the fire going when Gabbie and Jack find us. Then we can take it easy until the fireworks.’
A boy appeared as if by magic next to the Hastings family. He looked down at the twins, who returned his appraising look. ‘You guys play?’ he said, pounding his small fist into a beat-up outfielder’s mitt. Both boys, as one, raised mitts from where they had lain on the kerb. ‘There’s a game at the park. You want to play?’
The boys sprang up, their movement the only agreement necessary. They darted ahead of their parents, only slightly restrained by Gloria’s shout to stay close.
Gabbie came towards the family picnic site, holding her skirts defiantly above her ankles as she led My Dandelion. Gloria caught sight of her advancing stepdaughter and said, ‘Oh shit, they’ve had a fight.’
Phil looked up from the charcoal he was poking and nodded. ‘Yup. She looks just like her mother did when she was going to rip off my head about something. Batten down the hatches.’
Gabbie managed somehow to land atop the large blanket with a swirl of silks and linen petticoats about her while still maintaining her angry aspect. ‘Hello, Gabbie,’ Gloria said softly.
‘Hi, honey,’ added her father while he arranged coals.
Her answer was something close to a grunt. She looked round and noticed the twins were off playing a ragged game of sandlot baseball with the town kids and everyone else was busy fixing dinners. After several minutes of silence, Gabbie asked, ‘All right, why don’t you say something?’
Gloria took the long barbecue fork from Phil’s hand and indicated with a tilt of her head he should go and talk to his daughter. Phil hunkered down beside Gabbie and said, ‘Okay, what’s the problem?’
‘Oh! A cheerleader. A freckle-faced high school airhead with big tits.’
‘Jack?’ asked Phil, suddenly wishing he’d restricted himself to sons.
‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘We were resting the horses before taking them back and this little bitch comes over to talk to him about “something personal”’ – she mimicked a breathy voice – ‘and he tells me to go on ahead, he’ll only be a few minutes. Well, if his taste runs to children, that’s fine with me.’
Phil glanced at Gloria, his expression begging help. Gloria dropped the pretence of tending the fire and came to her stepdaughter’s side. ‘Maybe you’re being a little tough on him, Gabbie.’
Gabbie’s eyes flashed and she stood up. ‘I’ve got to get My Dandelion back to Mr Laudermilch’s stable.’
Phil said, ‘If you’re hacking over to Laudermilch’s how will you get back here?’
Her anger barely contained, she said, ‘There’s a ride for us.’
Gloria shook her head as Gabbie hiked her skirts and, in most unladylike fashion, mounted the horse. She kept her skirts pulled up around her waist, revealing her cut-off blue jeans and bare legs, one of which she hooked between the two saddle horns, ‘God damn, I hate riding sidesaddle!’ She reined the mare round and used her riding crop to get her trotting off.
Gloria turned to Phil. ‘Yes, I’d say things are getting serious.’
‘At least on one side,’ he agreed as he rose. ‘I sort of understood when she got so crazy after her breakup with Danny last year … they’d been going together awhile. But she’s known Jack a month.