"Yo, Angus!" someone called. Martin went for a refill and returned a few minutes later as Willow was looking around the meadow. She couldn't stop herself; every few minutes she checked again.
"Looking for someone?" Martin asked.
"Yeah, a guy I met—Patrick O'Shaunessy."
"Patrick O'Shaunessy?"
"Yes."
"I'll be damned. I met him the other day." Patrick, she thought. Martin reminded her of Patrick; that's who it was. More people arrived. A soprano sax joined the piano. A man with gray hair set up a drum kit. Joe Burke stood near the piano with a blonde—leggy, like me, Willow thought, but better looking. They came over and sat down. Joe introduced her, his wife, Sally. He reached into a paper bag and handed everyone a sparkler.
"It's the 4th," he said. They lit the sparklers and sat, more or less in a circle, waving them and drinking beer.
"My country 'tis of thee," Amber said.
"Old Glory," Martin added.
"Patriots!" A familiar voice. Patrick had come up behind her.