"Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away." – Laurens, Hamilton: An American Musical

Date: July 4th, 2017

Occasion:
Fourth of July
Independence Day

Country: United States

Summary:
Fletcher is married to Emily
Declan is Emily and Fletcher's son
Faith is married to Tristan
Abby is Faith and Tristan's daughter
Erin is married to Alex
Andrew is Erin and Alex's son

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XXIII | Jason Deru-No

"Out of the way, peasants! Cakes coming through!" Erin shouted as everyone in the kitchen scattered like confetti from a party popper.

Alex, supporting three small cakes because he protested that he was more than able to carry just one, weaved expertly through the throng of friends and set it down on the table carefully. He let out a sigh of relief that the cakes had managed to remain intact for the past few minutes, because with the kids running around, including Fletcher and Erin, the candles were likely to have shot straight off the icing and set someone's hair on fire.

"They look amazing!" Emily exclaimed, admiring the thick icing, glittering red, white and blue rock candy, and gorgeous silver sprinkles. Alex and Erin high-fived each other and shared a peck on the lips as everyone else in the vicinity either 'aww'ed or groaned.

"Question," Fletcher interjected as he walked up to them and slung an arm around Emily, who jabbed him in the ribs. He flinched and flipped her off before continuing. "How are these cakes not burnt or on fire? And do we know you guys didn't poison them?"

"First question," Alex answered, "just because my wife can't bake, doesn't mean I can't." Erin punched her husband in the shoulder as he recoiled under her deathly glare. "What? I'm just speaking the truth! And for the second question, how do you know I didn't?" He swiped his finger across the blue icing and popped it in his mouth with a wink.

"Because you just ate your supposedly poisoned icing, stupid," Erin retorted, still affronted by Alex's insult. She turned to their children, who were lounging on the sofas, each on their phone. "Oi, pipsquirts! Stop texting and come chat with your elders."

Abby raised her head from where she'd been texting Quinn, one of her new best friends and Andrew's girlfriend. "You should come chat with us! After all, you're the kids here," she called. Declan snickered while Andrew blocked out the world around him, fingers flying furiously over the keys to reach Quinn.

The cute duo had met at a ski lodge around Christmas. That was why Andrew and his sister, who was in Minnesota and couldn't make it to the Fourth of July gathering, were stuck in a snowstorm during the days leading up to December last year, though the former was happy to be gooey with his new sweetheart. Abby, on the other hand, became friends with Quinn once she was introduced to the family. Fletcher insisted on buying her a sushi combo from his favourite Japanese food store, along with peanut butter ice cream from a local ice cream shop.

"Stop being rude to your elders," Tristan reprimanded Abby as he and Faith entered the room, disoriented at the explosion of red, white and blue in all its American glory.

He'd never been comfortable with parties and that sort, but being married to a party animal did increase his knowledge of them. Even still, he thought that the star bangled face paint Fletcher was wearing did seem a bit too much. Emily had been telling him that he'd be shot the moment he walked out onto the street, but naturally, Fletcher was adamant that he needed to be as festive as possible.

"I'm not rude, y'all are just immature!" Abby said snottily.

"Who even says y'all anymore?" Emily shot back as her husband stood behind her, doing a sassy z-finger snap. "That's like the word fetch from Mean Girls. Stop trying to make y'all happen! It's not going to happen."

"Loads of people say y'all in the south," Declan said reasonably as Abby beamed at him. Fletcher and Tristan rolled their eyes as Emily and Faith murmured about how much they ship them. Erin and Alex stood in a corner and contemplated how much gum it would take to blow a bubble equivalent to the size of Jupiter. Andrew was still texting his girlfriend.

"Thanks, son," Emily said as Declan grinned sheepishly. "We appreciate you arguing against your own parents. Must be nice to disregard the person who gave birth to you."

"Hey, I helped!" Fletcher protested. Everyone stared at him. He flooded red from head to toe, realising what he'd implied. "Well, I did help make the baby," he mumbled.

"Way too much info, Fletcher," Alex said after a moment of awkward silence. He clapped his hands sharply to snap everyone out of their stupor. "Come on, people! It's the Fourth of July. I say we get a move on and head to the beach before the sky gets dark."

"We're watching the fireworks," Erin argued. "Isn't the whole point of fireworks to be set off and watched in the dark? I mean, who sets off fireworks in the day?"

"There's this thing called a picnic, and it's much easier to stab your friend with a butter knife in the pitch blackness of night rather than a sunny day," Faith called out as she and Tristan loaded the bags of various food and drink into the trunk of each of their cars. Naturally, the kids continued playing on their phones and were no help whatsoever.

"I want to stab you guys with a butter knife right now," Erin muttered under her breath so that only Alex could hear her.

He grinned ruefully and set a container of sheer purple and green grapes on top of the various types of bread, such as baguettes, buttery croissants, rye bread, and more. You name it, they had it. Meanwhile, Fletcher and Emily loaded tubs of ice cream in a cooling bin. Fletcher had calculated exactly how much more money the ice cream vans on the beach charged them for a cone, and decided his homemade ice cream was more worth it.

"Come on, you lazy kids! Get your butts off the couch and in the car before we leave without you!" Emily shouted to the children. Abby and Declan rose from the couch, each grabbing one of Andrew's legs and tugging him towards the nearest vehicle. Andrew continued texting without a care in the world, not realising that he was being dragged across the floor.

"Stop being so impatient!" Abby shouted back, out of breath, because dragging Andrew was more like dragging a hunk of coal.

"Telling Emily to stop being impatient is like telling Fletcher to ditch his sushi fetish," Tristan joked as Fletcher and Emily shot daggers at him. "Impossible, to say the least."

"You should sleep with one eye open tonight, Tristan," Emily threatened him as she jabbed a rock candy stick at his eye in the same manner that she would jab a knife.

Tristan recoiled and held his hands up in surrender, not looking sorry in the slightest. Emily popped the candy in her mouth and her expression melted into bliss at the sweetness of rock candy. Meanwhile, the others had loaded themselves into their respective cars.

"I trust you guys are going to drive safely and carefully?" Declan accentuated the last two adjectives as his gaze fell on Fletcher, Erin and Tristan at the wheels of their respective cars.

Fletcher grinned. "Race to see who gets there first?"

"You're on!" Tristan shouted as he gunned the engine, while Faith and Abby tried to give each other sparkly manicures in the car.

"Last one there's a rotten egg!" Erin yelled as she pulled out of the driveway and peeled off down the street, the other two cars close in pursuit.

The car ride was fairly uneventful, with each kid texting on their phones. Abby and Declan were exchanging cheesy pick up lines through text while Andrew continued messaging Quinn about god knows what. Fletcher and Emily played I Spy. Tristan devoured various candies that they'd brought along for the car ride to keep himself alert, while Faith munched on a crunchy red apple. Erin and Alex blasted the radio and sang along to Jason Derulo while their son kept telling them to shut up.

"Tonight, take me to the other side!" the wife and husband shouted, the former screeching while the latter actually bothered to sing in tune. "Sparks fly like the Fourth of July!"

"For the last time, zip your mouths!" Andrew complained, blocking his ears.

"What, don't you like Jason Derulo?" Erin asked loudly.

"Jason Deru-No," he retorted, rummaging around his bag for headphones and blasting different music from Spotify, before going back to texting his girlfriend.

His parents exchanged a look, before shrugging. "His loss."

Before long, the gang had arrived at their destination. Abby and Declan raced barefoot across the golden sand that kicked up at their feet and began splashing each other with water. Even Andrew managed to tear his eyes away from his phone and joined the couple in the water, while their parents whooped and built sandcastles or collected seashells.

Fletcher, Alex and Tristan set up the picnic blankets while Emily, Erin and Faith set out the dishes of delicious food, most of them red, white and blue themed. There were dishes upon dishes of delectable munchies, including sandwiches and chips and chocolate and of course, ice cream. "Now that's what I call a Fourth of July picnic!" Faith declared proudly, admiring their handiwork.

"It's awesome," Tristan grinned, slinging an arm around his wife and pecking her on the cheek.

Erin inspected the food from all angles before nodding proudly and being the first to plop down onto the red, white and blue striped picnic blanket. "Do you see the beauty of these snacks? I'm so talented with food! Guys, I should be on Masterchef."

"No!" everyone else said quickly.

Erin pouted. "Haters gonna hate."

"What are we waiting for?" Abby asked breathlessly as she, Declan and Andrew raced back up to the rest of their family, the salty scent of ocean lingering around them as their wet feet created dark imprints on the golden sand. "I want my ice cream! Let's eat."

"Let's not forget the importance of Fourth of July!" Tristan added. Everyone shot him incredulous looks. He heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'll make it quick. Let's be thankful for the independence of America and how we have privileges and the freedom to do whatever the hell we want, because 'Murica. Also, we should be thankful for Thomas Jefferson, who drafted the Declaration of Independence." He nodded at the feast. "Go on, tuck in. I give up on you ungrateful brats."

"Can I get a hell yeah for Thomas Jefferson?" Andrew asked, lifting his glass of sparkling grape juice.

"Hell yeah!" everyone shouted, their voices carrying up to the heavens as the sky slowly melted from a calming blue to a gradient of vibrant pink and orange. They all clinked their glasses together, the adults having something a lot stronger than grape juice, as they dove into the food and stuffed themselves silly.

"I feel like a balloon that's about to pop," Fletcher moaned as he laid with arms and legs splayed out. "Why did I eat so much?"

"Fatty," was the only word Emily managed to say as she poked her husband, who tethered dangerously on the edge of rolling straight down the sand crevice and into the ocean.

"Fire," Erin grunted, gesturing weakly.

"Fire? Fire where?" Faith said, alarmed. She was the only one who hadn't stuffed herself until she could hardly move, and for that, she was glad. She was also grateful for paying attention in school when teachers had told them how to deal with fires. "We have an extinguisher–"

"No," Tristan gestured in the same direction as Erin. "Fireworks."

Indeed, there were fireworks just over the horizon. How had none of them noticed before? Showers of blue, white and red sparks exploded far above their heads, before raining down upon the sand. The gang gasped in wonder and Fletcher craned his neck to get a better look. Andrew whipped out his phone and The Other Side by Jason Derulo blasted out across the beach as people cheered.

Erin glared accusingly at his son. "You said you didn't like Jason Derulo!"

Andrew shrugged as other people watching fireworks on the beach lighted sparklers and waved them around. Whenever they closed their eyes, all they could see were imprints of light in contrast with the pitch black midnight around them. "Quinn likes him, so I have a few songs saved on my phone."

"Whipped!" Abby shouted at the same time Declan declared, "you two are my OTP!"

Emily shot a suspicious look at her husband. "Weren't we supposed to keep that sort of terminology away from the pure ears of these youngsters, Flip-Flop-Fletcher?"

Fletcher shrunk back from his wife. "I couldn't help it! Urban Dictionary is everywhere."

"Ignoring the topic of modern slang," Alex interrupted their banter, gesturing to the gorgeous fireworks that the rest of them were missing. "Kiss me like it's do or die!" he sang loudly as the others grinned.

"And take me to the other side!" the rest chorused in unison as the last of the song faded out to cheers, though the fireworks continued. The group exchanged hugs and laughs as they devoured the last of the food. Fletcher gazed affectionately at his best friends and their children, before declaring, "can I get a hell yeah for the Fourth of July?"

"Hell yeah!" everyone shouted as a final sparkling firework burst in the air.