Breaking Ground by William Andrews

onto the Common and presented the colors as the people rose from their blankets to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” When they finished and the honor guard marched out, Julie walked to the microphone and gave her welcome, including the dedication of the concert to Mary Ellen Swanson. Then she found Rich on a blanket by the gazebo and sat down to enjoy the concert.
    As the band launched into a medley of patriotic songs, Julie surveyed the scene. After only a year in Ryland, she was pleased at how many faces were familiar. All the trustees were there: Dalton with Nickie Bennett, Howard and his wife, Loretta and her husband, Henry and his family, Clif with several children and grandchildren, many of the volunteer guides, Tabby Preston from the library, and even Mrs. Detweiller with a man Julie supposed was Mr. Detweiller, though Julie had never met him.
    When the band took a brief break, the crowd rose nearly as one and stretched by their blankets or walked lazily around to greet neighbors. At the edge of the crowd Julie was surprised to see Steven Swanson talking with a man she at first didn’t recognize, and then recalled as Frank Nilsson, the developer Luke Dyer was working with on the Birch Brook condos. Julie considered walking over to talk with him since she still hadn’t expressed her condolences in person, but before she could decide, the bandleader waved to her to indicate they were ready to resume. That was also Julie’s signal to remount the gazebo and remind the crowd of the cookies and lemonade awaiting them afterwards.
    As the band broke into the collection of Sousa marches to end the concert, Julie leaned over to Rich and told him she needed to head to the society to be sure everything was ready. She slipped away as unobtrusively as she could and sprinted across the street. Standing by the first table by himself, with a glass of lemonade in his hand, was Steven Swanson.
    â€œMr. Swanson,” Julie said formally and reintroduced herself. “I’m so very sorry about your loss. It’s a loss for all of us who knew your mother. Please accept my condolences.”
    â€œI remember you, Julie,” Swanson said. “And please call me Steven. Thanks for your sympathy—and for dedicating the concert to Mom. I’m sure she would have been very pleased. Hope you got my messages, by the way.”
    â€œI did. Thanks. I hated to bother you at such a time.”
    â€œIt’s all so complicated and strange,” he said. “I realized Mom was getting along and that eventually she’d, well, obviously we all will. But not like that. God, it’s just so hard to think about.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes and then stood silently again.
    â€œI’m sure it is. I talked to your mother just the day before, and I know how much she was looking forward to the groundbreaking. It’s so hard to accept she’s gone. She was so …”
    â€œLively?” he suggested. “That’s just what I was thinking. I mean, she was seventy-four, and I know that’s not old today, but she acted more like she was in her fifties. Dad was almost ten years older, and so when he died it didn’t seem so strange. That was almost five years ago. And then he went … well, he died at home.” Not murdered, Julie thought, and had to stop herself from saying it aloud. “Not like Mom,” he concluded. “Anyway, you said you saw Mom the day before, but I thought she was going to see you yesterday morning—at the tent, before the groundbreaking.”
    â€œReally?” she said, feigning surprise. “Your mother didn’t say anything to me about getting together then, but of course she might have decided to come by. Was there something she wanted to talk to me about?”
    â€œMy mother
always
had something to talk to someone about, didn’t she?” Steven smiled and laughed slightly. “But she did say, at breakfast, that