Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Fiasco on the Fourth

“Joanna’s at the hospital,” our son Greg announced somberly when he got off his cell phone. We had been waiting for her and the kids to show up for our cook-out.

“At the hospital!” I exclaimed in alarm. “Are they alright?” I was afraid there had been a car accident. Our daughter-in-law and our grandchildren had had an unexpected trip to Tulsa and were on their way back.

“Yes, they were looking for us!” he replied.

Oh, no! Greg had wanted his dad and me to jump in his truck and go for a quick ride to show us something. He said we would have plenty of time before the others got to our house for our 4th of July cook-out we were planning. I found I couldn’t fit my splinted leg into the space I would occupy in the middle of the pickup seat, with Howard on the outside. “We’ll just take our car,” Howard said.

Joanna explained in exasperation when she drove up. “I saw Greg’s truck sitting in front of your house, but your car was gone. We heard the dog barking inside, but we couldn’t get in.” Since she couldn’t reach us by phone, she said she had reasoned that someone had had an emergency, and Greg couldn’t get us all into the truck and we had taken the car!

Well, she got that part right, but I felt bad for having put them through that. Our little excursion had taken more time than we thought, and they had arrived sooner than expected. To make matters worse, I had gone out without my purse or phone, and in our quick departure, Greg had left his phone in his truck.

The kids were tired and a bit disgruntled, but sitting by the backyard pond while ribs sizzled on the grill soon restored everyone’s spirits. They had stopped by their house and got Allison’s cat, Sunshine; their dog, Pebbles, was already here. Their antics had us smiling soon enough, as the cat scampered up a tree or hid beneath a poolside fern, while Pebbles darted around him in friendly banter.

When the food was done, we went inside to enjoy our meal in the cool air-conditioning, topping it off with fresh peach pie and ice cream. Adam, 17, excused himself from the table a little early, as he had a pressing engagement with some pyrotechnics, and the fourth of July was a date he refused to stand up! The rest of us lingered, grateful for a safe family celebration, despite the mix-up earlier. All’s well that ends well, and we’d had a great finish!

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