Sacrifice

Memorial Day

Kacey looked radiant coming out of the airport after a long flight and layover.

Kylie both admired her sister for it and hated her a little bit.

Kylie popped the trunk.

Of course she’s the sales rep of the year at McCannish. Look at her. They probably throw money at her when she walks through the door.

Kylie got a genuine embrace before her sister threw her bags in the trunk at the airport curb.

“I swear, I swear, I swear, “ Kacey said, “one of these days, soon, I’m gonna give you a break and take a few months with Pops.”

Over Kacey’s shoulder, an LED screen on the Welcome to Detroit sign waved a poorly pixelated American flag with the message Happy Memorial Day Weekend.

Kylie didn’t freeze, exactly, but she had the elements of a statue in her stance when she stopped to respond.

“You’ve been saying that for seven years, Kace. Stop. Staaahhp. I got Pops, you do your thing. COVID has been great for my business, I make two trips to the post office a day and I’m flush. Everything’s fine. Pops is fine.”

Kacey reached for another embrace.

“I just feel guilty. I know he can be difficult. Is he excited?”

“If you did one social thing a year would you be excited? Yes. His uniform is pressed and hanging, he’s been looking at himself in the mirror in his hat for a week.”

Pops, their grandfather, was the only surviving WWII vet that still lived in Moeller Township  He had outlived Kylie and Kacey’s parents and all of his siblings.

 Moeller Township honored him every year at the Memorial Day Parade, which was the only parade Moeller Township had unless you counted the parade of people puking outside the Donnybrook Tavern’s tent on St. Patrick’s Day.

The sisters got in Kylie’s car. Kylie checked her side-view mirror, then craned her neck to see the blindspot. Her view was partially blocked by a lifted F-250. 

“Pops is okay then?” Kacey asked. “Good spirits, stent working okay and all that?”

“Not great spirits, Kace, no. Here’s one I forgot to tell you. Missus Logan, lived in the corner apartment of Mettetal Place? She flashed him her tits, right up against her window on his birthday.”

“Isn’t Mettetal Place seniors only?”

Kylie turned and raised her eyebrows. 

“She passed away since then. She was pushing eighty. He blubbered like you did when your bunny died in 6th grade.”

“Awww…poor Pops.”

Kylie looked back behind her. She hit the accelerator then the huge blue Ford that had been blocking her view decided to pull out at the same time.

She braked, both women rocked forward and back, then watched as the truck roared past, hauling a trailer with two canoes, two kayaks, and a paddleboard.

Kacey looked at Kylie.

“Both of us don’t have to be at the stupid parade, Ky. I’ll take Pops, you go to Belle Isle or Kensington. Have some fun. The weather is supposed to be beautiful.”

Kylie put her car in park and looked at her sister. She let her head loll back against the headrest.

“They’re doing the same thing they did last year. Township President, Chulaski,  is gonna give a speech about Pops and his unit and their bravery and sacrifice, Apple Queen is gonna give him another key to the Township-he has five keys now, but whatever-they’re gonna say his name, everyone on Huron Parkway is gonna applaud, then he’s gonna stand up out of his wheelchair at the podium and wave to the crowd.”

“Beautiful,” Kacey said. “No reason I can’t handle this by myself.”

“No,” Kylie said. “No way. I wanna be there. When he’s standing there at that podium…”

Kylie bit her lip “...it’s the only time all year I get to hear him say ‘thank you’ .”

***

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