Fiction: Fireworks

Rita couldn’t bring herself to look at Gavin as a couple of New York’s Finest took him away. She sobbed as she and Lorie waited in the emergency room for Donald to be taken to a private room.

“I’m so sorry,” Rita said yet again.

Lorie patted her friend’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

“I never knew Gavin gave it a thought. That’s more than two centuries in the past. I can’t fathom why it would it make him so angry.”

“People carry grudges, I guess.” Lorie pondered a moment, looking over to where her husband lay sedated. She could see only the thin sheet covering his feet; his face and the bandaging on his left shoulder were hidden behind a curtain. “Did you know Gavin’s family had lost a man at Bunker Hill?”

“No; he never said a word about it till today.” Rita heaved another sob. “Oh, Lorie, we’ve been friends since I came over as an exchange all those years ago. And now Gavin’s gone off his trolley and it’s all a shambles.”

Lorie hugged Rita. “We’re still chums; don’t be silly. I still want to visit you in Liverpool in the fall.” She paused thoughtfully again. “But in the future… I don’t think we’ll invite friends from England to dinner on our Independence Day.”