The next year we went to my family for the Fourth ofnJuly. I saw to it; I made Philo explain to his folks, he wasnsweet about it but the kids had fits when they found out;nthey whined the entire way. When we got there the housenseemed too small and there wasn’t enough food because mynmother wasn’t used to fixing for armies and there weren’tnany cousins so the children fussed the whole time. In thenmiddle of it we had to call the camp and Philo and the kidsnhad to talk to all the Goodman aunts and uncles and cousinsnwhile my mother and I sat at the empty table and tapped ournfingers because we’d worked so hard and it had gone so fastnand there was nothing to do but sit and listen to themnphoning and look out the window at the rain.nPhilo was sweet about it, he said we could go there everynFourth as far as he was concerned, but I could see his wholenbody twitching; it was like watching the shad fighting theirnway upriver to spawn; when his family gets together he hasnto be part of it, no matter who cries or what goes wrong theynall have to come together at certain times.nWe had wedding parties at the camp, first Marge’s oldest,nthen Edna’s, then Ralph’s; Evvie was big enough to flirtnwith all the groomsmen and later on I guess she went up innthe woods with more than one; I was ready to let it go bynbecause I didn’t want to know for sure, but the othersnwouldn’t just let us be, they were watching like vultures on anbranch, and they found out at the party we had when it wasnRalph Junior’s turn and we gave him and the girl a bignto-do at the camp, Goodmans always say Waste Not WantnNot so naturally we had it on the Fourth.nI brought the pies that year, there are two dozen differentnways a person can spoil them, but that time they came outnfine, wouldn’t you know we had cake too, Marge made itnalong with the beans even though I said she didn’t need to,nwe had plenty of pies. It was a big sheet cake with a bridenand groom on top and Ralph Junior Plus Betsy in beautifulngreen script with so much butter cream frosting on top andnso many yellow-and-green butter cream rosebuds thatnnobody had much room for my pies.nEven so the first part of the day was sweet; Philo’s parentsnwere gone by that time but one of the nephews and his wifenTeeny had brought a brand new baby, and that poor mothernspent the afternoon running back and forth with babynbotties and heated jars of baby food while all the auntsnsnuggled the thing with big smiles on their big faces and thenyoung people just drifted off, some of them this way andnsome that. We all said all the usual things, how big all thenkids had gotten, how well everybody looked, it was a littlenlike the opening responses that we go through on Sundays atnchurch, a pleasure and a comfort when everything else isnsliding and it’s hard to tell who’s who and what’s what.nWhen suppertime came and the light changed Marge andnEdna and Benjy’s wife and I all fussed over the trestle tables,nsetting places and laying out serving dishes; I remembernthinking we were murmuring together like real kinfolks,neven though I probably knew the big boys were up there innthe woods torturing my poor Randolph; he used to comenback to camp panting and bruised or bleeding from unexpectednscratches: It’s nothing. Ma, but pretty soon he’dnskulk into some corner and hide behind a book until the daynwas over and we could get in the boat and go. My Evvie wasnoff God knows where with the young people — Ralph’s sonnthe bridegroom and his friends, that girl he was marryingntried to pretend she was busy with Teeny’s baby but I knew.nWhen Evvie came back she looked drunk but the youngnmen were showing off and making fools of themselves overnher so I didn’t say anything about her blouse popping andnher bra straps slipping; I thought: For once we are all in thenmiddle of things.nThen dinner came, music and noise and firelight on thenrafters; we ate inside because it was cold on the Fourth thatnyear. One of the boys said something to Big Ralph and henwhispered to Philo. Then I saw Philo get up from the table,nshaking, and I can’t tell you now if it was anger or if God hadnstruck in that instant and this was my first warning: maybe Inwas supposed to be expecting the stroke he had in September,nand the palsy that followed the stroke. He got up beforenwe even had the cake, trembling Philo in the wake of hisnoldest brother, stumbling toward the woods. They broughtnher back down along with the young man, who was he,nsome friend of Ralph Junior’s that his wife was sitting rightnthere; I could hear Philo yelling and hitting and hernshouting while we all sat and ate that wedding cake andnpretended not to hear anything, and everybody got so full onncake that I had to take home all my pies, but I can tell you Inwaited until we got halfway back to the mainland andndropped them over the stem; Philo was so mad at her he wasnstill shaking and I cannot begin to tell you what I wasnthinking when I said, into the sound of the motor churning.nIt serves you right.nThey just pulled me out the doorway,npointing to Philo and shushing because theyndidn’t want me to know, they were moistnand sweet as big old girls with a party secret.nMy Evvie was gone before the Fourth came aroundnagain. She used to send me postcards care of Marge, Philo’snown sister, imagine, and I would slip off to see her whenevernshe was in Augusta, even Boston, I always got there but Inalways had to lie because nothing is that simple but I knownPhilo blames her for the stroke.nWhen the family gets together now somebody always getsnme aside and asks, but off somewhere, so Philo won’t know.nI tell them she is working in a restaurant when it’s a bar ornworse, and that she is engaged when there are too manynmen; I told them it was pneumonia when whatever she hadnwasted her tubes so she can never have babies; they don’tnpry. I don’t know why, but when we talk about Evvie, hisnsisters and his brothers’ wives and I are almost close,nwhispering because Philo says she’s as good as dead to him,nhe doesn’t even want to hear her name. They always ask andnI really want to tell because for once I can say my girl’s namenout loud and that brings her into the room with us, for anminute at least. I will say this for them, they have none ofnthem ever blamed me for Evelyn, although I know theynnnMARCH 1992/27n