David Dean was hanging patriotic bunting by dawn's early light when Cynthia finished setting out the usual assortment of pastries for the guests and joined her husband for the short walk to the Community Center. They almost never enjoyed the first meal of the day outside of Bird Song, but the holiday was cause for exception. The Ouray Rescue Squad held an annual fund raising breakfast each Fourth of July, enabling the Deans to share an early meal of eggs, sausage, and fixings in the company of friends and neighbors. In the street outside, runners were stretching and signing in for the five K race, which would begin shortly.
"Now there's a way to lose a few pounds," Cynthia said, motioning outside toward the entrants as Dean returned to their table with a plate of seconds.
"I'll stick to biking. Running never excited me. Something about the 'thrill of victory not worth the agony of da-feet.'"
By the time the Deans returned, most of Bird Song's guests had scattered off to the continuing Fourth of July happenings. Fred was already gone and Brandon Westlake presided over breakfast court with Pumpkin Green, rehashing the good old days until the young man's eyes glazed and with mumbled excuses, he retreated to find his partner in combat Billy Langstrom. New arrivals and departures at Bird Song were nonexistent as all present guests were staying at least through the weekend. That, and Maria's presence, practically gave the Deans a holiday of their own. Cynthia had volunteered a couple of hours selling tickets for the Ouray Chamber's Jeep raffle. She and her husband would get together later to view the parade and water fight. Dean planned to spend his free time biking, but changed his mind when he saw the crowds in town and remembered the traffic that would clog the narrow roads. Cynthia took care of his down time by handing him a list of needed provisions.
"Pick up some beer, too," Cynthia added as she prepared to leave.
"I'm on a diet," he answered.
"I'm not. Besides, you don't have to give up beer. Just have two instead of four and you'll save half the calories."
Dean pulled down the top on his Jeep and slowly drove uptown, giving off what he hoped were candidate smiles and waves to the locals, all of whom seemed to be walking the sun drenched street. It was only a couple of blocks to Duckett's Market, but he needed the Jeep to haul the groceries. However, parking was next to impossible, as preparations were underway for the morning parade, and driving by, he noticed the market was closed for the holiday.