"Of all things to happen on Memorial Day, my car won't start."

"I'm sorry 'bout that Mary, but you know my station's closed today."

"Ed, you just serviced my car Thursday."

"That Studebaker is old, Mary. If you'd drive it more often it'd run better."

"I don't go many places that I can't walk to these days, but today is the picnic. I have the food all packed in the hamper and loaded in the back seat."

"Alright. Alright! I'll run by your house and see what I can do."

Mary laid the receiver into place on top of the squat black telephone and turned to look at the clock. "I'm late already." She sighed as she sank onto a red vinyl kitchen chair to wait for Ed. An hour later Mary hoisted the hamper from the back seat and hurried across the wide lawn.

"Here I am Tommy," she called. "I'm sorry to be so late." She wheezed slightly as she set the hamper in the grass and spread the picnic blanket. "I have so much to tell you, Tommy." Mary lowered herself to the blanket and leaned her head against the granite marker.

© 2007 Cynthia Becker. Original for CCF (Becker grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).