72I stood in a deserted Fairfax County park under a cloudless sky. Not yet 10:00 AM, and the temperature was in the eighties.
At our meeting in the pumpkin patch, Dawna and I agreed this park would be the site of our next as-yet-unscheduled rendezvous.
In response to last night’s text, she’d set the time for nine-thirty this morning.
I arrived five minutes early, still wearing my jeans, red-white-and-blue top, and sandals.
Only halfway through my waiting time and I felt as baked as the powdery red dirt beneath my Birkenstocks.
I squinted at the sunlit wayside sign that marked the spot for our meeting.
The yard-square color poster was framed with black metal and mounted on a matching cylindrical pedestal.
The frame was tilted for easy reading. I could make out every word and illustra
