Finn
The Fourth of July had been the highlight of my summers growing up. This town did it right, with day-long celebrations, a parade, games, and, of course, the obligatory fireworks.
Our small town barely had the budget for it anymore, but somehow, Mayor Lambert always acquired an impressive collection of fireworks. He even hired professionals to set them off from a barge on the river. For a town in dire straits, I thought it was a bit over the top, but I was in the minority.
Nothing got the citizens of Lovewell together like a festival. Everyone would be there, though I very much wanted to skip this particular holiday. The last thing I needed was face time with the entire town.
One more pitying look, one more person who refused to make eye contact, and I’d truly lose it.
My sensitivities had heightened further since Merry had confessed to how she was being treated.
The knot in my chest tightened every time I looked at her.
Especially now. She was glued to my hip as we made our way through the block party on Main Street.
We’d come back to our hometown to give her joyful childhood memories, not constant anxiety.
Food vendors and trucks, picnic tables on the green.
And music. That was why we had really come by.
Jude was playing with Jasper Hawkins, a semi-famous local musician, and his band.
They had been asking him for years to join the band officially, but he always refused, choosing instead to play gigs with them here and there.
Merry gave him an enthusiastic wave as he tuned his guitar on stage.
He was so talented. Though we all thought he’d make a career with his music, he hadn’t finished his degree.
Jude was the outlier of the Hebert family.
The quiet, sensitive one who kept his cards close to the vest. The rest of us preferred to yell and fight and work out our problems with axes and tree stumps, but not Jude.
When things were tough, he’d retreat into his own little world with his comic books and his guitar.
So despite how difficult things had been, I was happy to see him out and about in town.
String lights hung from the trees where the makeshift dance floor had been built, and all around me, people were hugging one another in greeting and chatting, while children ran wild along the green.
Picnic tables had been set up in an open area and were bordered by food trucks.
The rest of the town common was filled with games.
Volleyball, gaga ball—which Merry was obsessed with—horseshoes, and a dunk tank that raised money for charity. Despite how much the town had changed from my youth, our Independence Day celebrations remained the same.
Though I didn’t know whether to be sickened or comforted by that, my complicated feelings for my hometown would have to wait.
Merry and I ordered food from one of the trucks and found Alicia and Mike as the band started up. The four of us shared poutine as we listened to the music and chuckled at the kids running wild in the grass.
“Dad,” Merry said, sipping her blueberry soda. “Promise me you won’t ask me to dance.”
Alicia snorted as my cheeks burned. “Why not?”
“Because you always ask me to dance.” She huffed. “But you should be dancing with a lady, not me.”
“You are my lady.”
She patted my hand, her little eyes full of pity. “Sure, Dad.”
“Who would you like Dad to dance with?” Alicia asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I shot her a glower, but in return, she laughed at me and stuck her tongue out.
Merry stood and climbed on top of the picnic bench so she could scan the crowd. It had only grown since we’d arrived. Many people were sitting around tables eating and laughing, and several were already twirling around the dance floor.
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips and tapped her chin, then dropped back down to the bench.
“Couldn’t find anyone good enough for your dad?” Mike asked, throwing his arm around Alicia.
I made a mental note to punch him later if I had the chance.
“Nah,” Merry said. “I was looking for Miss Adele. She’s Daddy’s boss. And she’s so pretty.”
Across from me, Alicia’s eyes lit up. “Have you met her?” Dammit, the wheels in her head were already turning. If Merry didn’t pipe down, I’d be hearing about this for months.
“Yup. When I went to work with Dad. Miss Adele takes apart engines and listens to cool music. And she’s the boss. She even let me play with her super cute dog.”
I shot a look at Alicia, then Mike. Both wore grins and were sitting ramrod straight, hanging on Merry’s every word, enjoying this way too much.
They’d both been on my case about dating lately.
Ever since they’d transformed into a pair of those smug coupled-up people who wanted everyone to be, as Merry says “all heart eyes at each other.”
Sadly, I didn’t see a future like that for myself. Especially not in Lovewell. Not that they would take no for an answer.
Alicia turned her smile on our daughter and only encouraged her more. “Sounds like you really like her.”
Merry bounced on the wooden bench beside me, making the tabletop shake. “Yes, I do! She’s so cool. Dad should ask her on a date.”
Merry was snuggled up with her mom, ready for the fireworks show to begin, but I needed to move.
The warm night had sweat collecting along my hairline and down my spine, and the crowd was making me itchy.
I couldn’t fake smile at one more person.
So I walked up the riverbank toward soldier’s hill.
The hillside was patched with brambles, but I hiked up through the trees nevertheless, ignoring the way they caught at my jeans, until I found the small clearing that overlooked the town.
The noise from the festival was a dull murmur up here, and the peace that settled in any time I was in nature finally allowed me to take a deep breath.
I had always loved town events and enjoyed seeing my friends and neighbors, but tonight, it was almost intolerable.
Why did my neck itch? Why was I feeling so hyper-defensive?
Finally letting my shoulders drop, I propped myself up on a boulder and considered the idea that my hometown may never feel like home again.
“What are you doing here?”
I startled at the interruption and turned toward the voice.
Adele was heading up a well-maintained path that connected another area of town to the clearing. She was wearing shorts that showed off her mile-long legs and a hoodie. She had a flashlight in one hand and kept it pointed at the ground.
“Just came up for some quiet,” I said, my face heating.
I was not the kind of guy to get flustered around women, but this woman unnerved me.
Threw me off my game each and every time I was in her presence.
Maybe it was her unabashed dislike of me.
Or maybe it was the ache that gnawed at my gut every time I laid eyes on her.
She trekked over but made sure to keep her distance.
God forbid she get within ten feet of me.
“This is my secret spot.” She surveyed the river and the green below us.
“I don’t really like fireworks, so when I was a kid, I’d climb up here and wait them out.
It’s the perfect place, really. You can still see them, but the trees muffle the sound. ”
I nodded, secretly pleased that Adele Gagnon was scared of fireworks. Made her seem almost human.
But then she had to go and ruin it. Tossing a glare in my direction, she reverted to the tone she seemed to reserve only for me. “So get outta here.”
“I was here first.” I shrugged and went back to my perusal of the landscape. “And maybe I need the quiet too.”
She was silent for a moment, and she didn’t move. When I finally dragged my attention back to her, she was glaring at me, her eyes pure fire. But in an instant, that fire banked and was replaced by an emotion I’d never seen from her. Remorse.
She put her hand over her mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. You’ve been to war. I didn’t make the connection.”
“It’s okay. It’s not a PTSD thing. I needed a break from the festivities, but I appreciate your concern.”
Her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath. “Thank you,” she said with uncharacteristic kindness. “For your service, I mean.”
“You don’t have to.” I kept my response simple, doing everything I could not to revel in the respectful way she was speaking to me for once.
She squinted. “Yes, I do. I may not like you, but I still appreciate and value your service to our country.”
I gave her a salute. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Her face morphed from kind to enraged in seconds. “Did you just ma’am me? Do you want me to throw you off this rock ledge?”
“There she is.” I laughed. “I was worried for a moment.”
“You’re a dick,” she spat.
“That would be Lieutenant Commander Dick to you, ma’am,” I said, delighting in riling her up.
Arms crossed over her chest, she turned toward the river, where the fireworks show was beginning.
I heaved myself off the rock and sauntered to her side with my face tipped up as I watched the explosions light up the night sky.
She was right. The trees muffled the noise up here.
The view was spectacular too—the fireworks lighting up over our tiny town, nestled between majestic mountains and endless forest.
“Do you miss it?” she asked softly, never taking her eyes off the show.
“Yes.” I sighed. “Every day, actually.”
Her response was a silent nod.
“I woke up every day with a purpose. My every action was in service of something bigger than me. It’s been a few years, and I still can’t wrap my mind around civilian life.”
She looked up at me, her eyes full of understanding. Beneath the hard exterior, I suspected she had her own set of regrets and frustrations.
I shuffled closer, hoping I wouldn’t spook her, until we were shoulder to shoulder, looking out at our little world.
“My goals and my priorities were clear. Cut and dry. Here? Everything is confusing.”
She turned my way and took a small step back. Behind her, colors exploded in the dark sky. It was ridiculous to spill my guts to a woman who despised me like she did. But in this moment, I wanted her to know me.
“There are no rules here.” I ran my knuckle along her chin.
She let out a tiny gasp, but she didn’t move. Her eyes were steely, but she wasn’t backing away.
“Every day, I wake up trying to make sense of the world.” Tilting her chin up, I dipped forward. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I was helpless to stop it.
“I get it,” she whispered.
And if I didn’t know better, I’d say she leaned in closer.
Our faces were inches apart, the fireworks forgotten as they exploded around us.
This was it. I was going to kiss her. And she wanted me to. A sense of calm washed over me, taking with it the weight on my shoulders and the knot in my stomach. This was right. And I was going for it.
I leaned in, closing my eyes and soaking in her warmth, relishing the euphoria that flooded my veins as her lips ghosted against mine.
Before I could experience the total bliss that was kissing Adele, though, she pulled away.
I opened my eyes and focused on her stricken face. That’s when it hit me. Something was wrong.
She pulled me by the arm to the trail I’d come up as screams from below registered.
Shit.
My instincts kicked in, and I took off, bounding down the steep rocks toward the green, my adrenaline pumping. Merry. I had to get to Merry.
Adele was right behind me as I sprinted with my heart in my throat.
Nothing could have prepared me for the mayhem I encountered on the green.
Handfuls of people were screaming. Others were running. And a few were even snapping photos as an absolutely enormous moose did battle with the volleyball net.
I stopped short, scanning the crowd for Merry, and Adele barely avoided crashing into my back.
Heaving, I snapped my attention to her, then back to the moose. “What the fuck is that?”
“Aw, shit. It’s Clive.”
Across the grass, the moose, with netting literally wrapped around its antlers, slammed into a picnic table, sending it flying.
“Dad.”
I spun, finding Merry running toward me, with Mike and Alicia close behind her. I took off for her and grabbed her under the arms, picking her up so I could keep her safe while I assessed the threat.
“I feel so bad for him,” she said, squeezing my neck. “He’s scared.”
“He’s destroying the damn town,” I yelled, walking backward toward my truck. The crowd had dispersed, but there were still dozens of people watching in fascination as a bull moose tore through our small-town celebration.
Tables were overturned and food was thrown everywhere. And still, the damn net was tangled in his antlers. He bucked and tossed his head wildly.
How did no one realize how dangerous this was?
“Let’s go back to the car,” I insisted, nudging Mike as I continued moving slowly away from the moose.
“No way. I want a video of this,” Merry protested, grabbing my phone out of my hand.
“Are we sure that’s Clive?” Alicia asked at my side.
“Yes,” Merry insisted, throwing one arm out and pointing. “He has a big scar on his back leg. Wait till he turns around.”
Sure enough, a long, jagged scar cut across his hip. I shook my head. All this time, I was worried about my daughter adjusting to life in rural Maine, but if she could ID a moose at fifty yards, so clearly, then she’d be fine.
“Let’s get you home,” I said, eyeing Alicia and Mike over her head and lifting my chin, signaling for them to follow me to the parking lot.
“Dad, look.” Merry pressed a palm to my cheek and forced my face forward again.
Clive was near the pavilion now, and he was galloping straight for a huge display of blueberry pies. There were probably fifty of them, lovingly baked and displayed by Bernice, the official pie queen of Penobscot County.
Bernice herself was screaming as he barreled for her table.
The crowd stilled, letting out a collective gasp. It was one thing to take out a volleyball net and a few old picnic tables. But mess with Bernice’s pies? That was how vendettas began.
But the moose was undeterred. He ran full-on at the tent, bucking his head, sending the net swirling. And then it happened.
Impact.
Pies.
Antlers.
Blueberry carnage the likes of which this town would never forget.
And one tiny old lady screaming obscenities at a fifteen-hundred-pound moose.
Clive had a reputation for not giving many fucks, but he’d messed with the wrong woman.
I could practically see Bernice plotting his death from across the green.
The rest of the townsfolk snapped photos and fell into fits of laughter, and the moose wandered off again.
“This is the best Fourth of July ever!” Merry giggled, squeezing me tighter and kissing my cheek as I loaded her into my truck.
I looked up and saw Adele giggling with her family a few yards away.
She gave me a nod and my heart clenched.
I’d been so close to kissing her again. Figures that damn moose would ruin it.