“Hey, Hunnie,” I grumbled into the Bluetooth. The woman was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something.
“Ben. Sorry to bug you on the Fourth, but . . .”
I rolled the window up all the way so I could hear. “I’m on my way to my parents’. I’ll talk to them about the goats and reindeer and whatever else you want to have out there for the kids to pet.”
“Thanks, but that’s not totally why I was calling. But yeah, I was going to remind you. Ha.”
Typical Hunnie.
“You okay?” I asked. Typically, people called me when they needed to see a doctor. Whether it be an ortho they needed or just a referral, they called. I was the doctor, not the person they called just to chat. Even though I’d lived here most of my life, having an MD after my name made me an outsider.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing like that. We’re doing our usual bonfire with my brother and the kids, and I invited Murphy. I was going to see if you wanted to stop by.”
I sighed. “Hunnie, you aren’t playing matchmaker, are you?”
“Who, me?” she said innocently, and I could practically hear her blushing across the line.
“Yeah, you. I’m doing you a favor by talking with my dad. Leave it alone.”
“Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “But stop by for one of my s’mores. You can’t say no to a little chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker with a real honey drizzle.”
“I’ll see how my timing works,” I said, noting the increase in my pulse rate. Of course I wanted to go. “And you know it’s not the honey drizzle drawing me,” I said without thinking.
Her tone knowing, she sang, “Oh, I know.”
“Good-bye, Hunnie,” I said and then disconnected the call.
Rolling the window all the way back down, I let the fresh air wash over my heated body.
I always did July Fourth at my folks’ house, even when I was a teen. Every year, the town had a small parade down the main street in the morning for little kids, but otherwise, there wasn’t much unless you wanted to head toward Burlington. If the Fourth happened to fall on the same day as the farmers’ market, there was live music and more hot food, but this year would be quiet.
I suspected Branson was upset with me because he’d hoped I would take him to Burlington, but this was a busier day for me. The start of a holiday weekend meant a lot of accidents. The next few days would be worse. Between all the biking, hiking, skateboarding, and swimming, coupled with drinking and a few days off, this was usually one of my busiest weeks of the year.
Now I was torn between being a good uncle and spending time with my parents, and leaving early to go see Murphy.
“Ben, tell Mom it’s okay for me to head out to the river and light sparklers with my friends,” Branson said to me after we ate. “We’re not going to drink, and Phil’s dad can drive me home later.”
My stomach was full and my head preoccupied, so I didn’t bother asking questions. “I think it’s fine, Bren,” I told my sister.
She frowned at me. “Yeah, because you go home to your house and work, and you don’t have to sit up and worry about him.”
“That’s not fair. I worry plenty,” I said, thinking she was also making a point about my lonely existence with no one to care about. Standing, I said, “I’m actually going to head out. I’ll drop him off and make sure it looks kosher.”
“What?” Branson asked me.
“Make sure everyone is behaving. I’ll be discreet,” I said.
As he shoved his hair off his forehead, I thought how I did the same thing. At least Brenna didn’t bother him about getting a haircut. She’d learned that lesson from my mom and me a long time ago.
After dropping off Branson with his friends, I made a quick U-turn and headed toward Hunnie’s place. I parked by the main house and waited a minute before heading toward the bonfire.
“Hey, look who made it,” Hunnie said, announcing my approach before I could clear my throat.
“Hey, Ben.” Her brother, Josh, stood to shake my hand.
He was close to ten years older than Hunnie and me, and I didn’t know him well growing up. Now he lived in town and worked for a trucking company. He married someone who was here hiking the Appalachian Trail and fell for him during a crunchy phase. Two kids later, she decided she wasn’t meant for this life and hightailed it back out west, leaving him with a couple of toddlers. Of course, everyone knew the story.
“Hey, man,” I said, shaking his hand. “Happy Fourth.”
“Holiday takes on a new meaning when you have a couple of kids you want to get home and get to bed,” he said, cocking his head toward the bonfire.
“I’m sure,” I said, but really had no idea. I’d just dropped Branson off with friends so I could see Hunnie.
“Hi.” Murphy looked up at me from the fire, the flames reflecting off her red hair as she stood and walked over.
“Hi,” I said back, really wanting to pull her in for a hug. To Josh, I said, “Where are your folks?”
“Oh, they went in to watch a movie. Mom’s been nagging Dad for weeks to watch some movie about a kid abandoned on a train platform in India.”
“Lion,” Murphy said. “It’s called Lion. I cried like a baby watching that movie while crossing the Atlantic on a plane to Europe. It won several awards.”
“Wow,” Josh said, staring at Murphy. “Not that it won several awards, that you remember watching it on a plane to Europe. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast.”
“Give it a rest, Josh,” Hunnie said, stepping in. “Go make sure your spawn don’t set their faces on fire roasting their marshmallows.”
“Happy Fourth,” Murphy
