Memorial Daze and an Excerpt from Small Town Secrets

How do you spend Memorial Day? In Arlington, Washington, there was always a Memorial Day Parade. My dad, a World War Two Veteran, rode in the back of a truck through the town in his commemorative veteran's jacket. Both of my parents served in the war, and I'm so grateful. When I think of my parents in particular and veterans in general, I'm reminded of this scripture:

"The LORD thy God shall have brought thee into the land which he sware unto thy fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give thee great and goodly cities, which thou buildedst not, And houses full of all good things, which thou filledst not, and wells digged, which thou diggedst not, vineyards and olive trees, which thou plantedst not; when thou shalt have eaten and be full;" Deuteronomy 6:10-11

 Today we'll barbeque and swim in my daughter's backyard. Five of my six children and nine of my grandchildren will celebrate with us. I'm blessed. 
 

How about you? Here in my Southern Californian city, we don't have a Memorial Day Parade, but I wrote about one in my novel, Small Town Secrets.

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Five days after I moved out and I still found myself ridiculously emotional. A cute cat commercial? A silly goat meme? A picture of an elderly couple dancing? Almost anything could make me cry.

I battled tears on the Cascadia’s Main Street sidewalk, praying no one from the Haywood family would see me.

I stood behind Gertie and Sally Jo’s folding chairs, apologizing to anyone who got too close and got swatted by their canes.

“We were here first,” Gertie shouted at a little girl in pig tails who wore a red and white sweatshirt and blue polka dot leggings. “You can’t stand in front of me.”

“Sorry,” I mouthed to the little girl’s mother who threw daggered looks at my charges. Crowds lined the sidewalk. The day was unseasonably warm. The sun bright, allowing me to wear dark glasses to cover my red eyes.

I glanced at my watch, praying the parade would start soon. The clock on the bell tower struck eleven. A siren sounded and a police car rounded the corner.

The crowd cheered and dozens of people waved flags in the air. Gertie let out a wolf whistle and Sally Jo stomped her feet. The patrol car rolled by and a group of Veterans carrying a large banner reading Desert Storm followed. The high school marching band played Over Hill Over Dale. Cheerleaders shook their pom poms and the flag team performed. Veterans, some in uniform, a few in leather jackets and jeans walked past, their heads held high. Local boy scout troops and their den mothers paraded and threw candy to the crowd on the sidewalk. The pig-tailed girl tripped over Gertie’s cane in an effort to snag some of the candy.

Once the parade ended and we’d had our lunch at the bakery, we headed for Haywood Farm. I didn’t even try to keep up with Gertie and Sally Jo’s conversation. They were speculating about an author of teen books who supposedly lived in Cascadia. I let their words fall around me and didn’t try and participate.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Gertie said when we pulled up to the large wooden gate that welcomed us to the farm.

“Veteran’s Day always makes me a little weepy, too,” Sally Jo said, letting me know my dark glasses weren’t fooling anyone.

I followed the gravel road past the brown post-harvested fields.
“Are you sure you guys want to do this?” I asked, knowing it was getting close to the time of day where they generally liked to doze in front of soap operas.

“I want to go in the corn maze,” Gertie announced.

“But what if you get lost?”

What if I see someone from Caden’s family?

“Everyone should get lost every once in a while,” Sally Jo announced.

I parked beside the large red barn, pulled on a baseball cap, tucked up my hair, and checked my reflection in the mirror attached to the visor. Deciding I looked too much like myself, I smeared on some bright red lipstick Andrea had left in my car.

“What are you doing?” Sally Jo watched me with a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “That shade doesn’t suit you at all.”

“And that cap looks stupid,” Gertie announced.

Aw, the brutal honesty of the elderly.

 “You guys really know how to make a girl feel special.” I slapped up the visor, climbed out of the car, and pulled open the back passenger door for my pair of boomers.

“You’re a pretty girl.” Gertie scooted out of the car and balanced herself on her cane. “Why hide behind glasses and a silly hat?”

I touched the brim of my hat. “I like this hat.”

“It makes you look like a Trump supporter,” Sally Jo said once she had also climbed out.

“It’s beige!”

“That’s nothing to brag about.” Gertie headed for the barn. “You bought lunch so I’m paying the entrance fee,” she told Sally Jo.

Sally Jo didn’t argue, but ambled after Gertie. Feeling like a sheepdog trying to herd cats, I brought up the rear and followed them through the barn. Bins of fruit and vegetables and shelves of Cascadia farm products—bottles of jams, salsas, and soups, loaves of a variety of breads in all shapes and sizes, and even soaps, candles, and cleaning supplies—filled the airy space.

Neither Gertie or Sally Jo had any interest in the merchandise, but walked straight through the barn to the opposite entrance. We emerged to blinding sunlight. The corn field lay in front of us. I half hoped the girl at the fee booth would tell my boomers they were too old to enter, but instead, she handed each of us a folded map.

“Only open this if you get lost,” she said with a wink after she took Gertie’s money.

Sally Jo read from the back of the map. “Getting lost in a corn maze can be a fun and exciting experience, but it can also be frustrating and disorienting should you get lost.

When you first enter a corn maze, it may seem easy to navigate, with tall rows of corn stalks creating a path for you to follow. However, as you delve deeper into the maze, the paths start to branch off in different directions and it can be difficult to keep track of where you've been and which path you should take.

One strategy for finding your way out of a corn maze is to look for landmarks, such as a tall tree or a large rock, that you can use to orient yourself and make sure you are heading in the right direction. Another strategy is to use the sun or the stars to help you determine which way is north, and then use that information to figure out which direction you need to go in order to exit the maze.

We have provided a map, but it’s still a good idea to take note of where you entered the maze and to keep track of any turns you make as you explore. This will help you retrace your steps should you get lost.

If you're really struggling to find your way out, stay calm and don’t panic. The solution is simpler than you think.

A member of our staff is always just a whistle or a holler away to help you find your way home.” She glanced at Gertie. “Good thing you know how to whistle.”

I shuffled after my boomers, rounding corners and laughing when we came to dead ends. Eventually, with Sally Jo’s guidance, we made it to the center where a tower with a windmill on top rose above the maze. I stared at the ladder leading to a platform about fifteen feet overhead, praying neither of my ladies would want to climb it.

“You have to go up there and take a picture for us,” Gertie told me.

“Yes! Go!” Sally Jo urged.

I started on the bottom rung. The day had been better than I had expected. I had found the parade sentimental, sometimes hokey, somewhat hilarious, and utterly charming. I could see the bakery becoming one of my favorites, and I loved everything about the farm. I could see Carly’s fingerprints all over it and it made me love and admire her even more.

It didn’t take me long to climb the ladder. Once on top, I let the strong, cold breeze wash away all my cares. The valley was vibrant in fall colors. Below me, I watched people wandering through the maze.

I spotted Simone—her bright familiar blonde hair standing out among the browning corn stalks. A man rounded the corner and she threw herself into his arms. That had to be Alex, but from this distance, it was hard to tell any of the Haywood men apart.

“Caden! I love you!” Simone called out.

Caden caught her and held her close while she showered his face with kisses.