Sarah reached across and patted Luna on the hand, but it was all too much, even the pity, too much.
Luna’s plight hit her like a slap across the face. Maybe she was a guest who had over-stayed her welcome. Maybe Beckett hadn’t really meant forever. Maybe he meant, come live with me, and we’ll see how it goes. Wasn’t that exactly what he said?
And he left and — and — he didn’t even call, barely ever.
Was he calling this other girl? Was she his mountain girl, the one that broke his heart, that he had been pining for when Luna interrupted him on the Outpost?
Luna glanced at Dryden’s face. She was pale with light brown cascading hair. Her cheekbones were strong. And Luna had trouble with this one most: she was tall.
Waterfolk didn’t want to be tall, but here on land, tall was best, more attractive, better. Hell, she had chosen Beckett, one of the tallest people she had ever met.
She had chosen Beckett, but had Beckett chosen her?
Luna was hiding Beckett’s baby, living in his home, keeping a secret, ingratiating herself to his Aunts, acting as if she was part of his family. She had even used his last name.
She couldn’t stand up there and recite a poem in front of these people. She was a stranger in their midst. They were Beckett’s friends, and he wasn’t there to introduce her.
Plus, and this was a big, big, big plus, her hormones were raging. She was crying constantly. The other night she had been watching one of Chickadee’s favorite shows, a comedy, and had laughed until she cried, peeing her pants a little, and then cried some more because she was such a wreck.
Beckett’s aunts had been so nice about it.
But seriously, she couldn’t stand up there, a big wreck of a secret-keeping, overly emotional, possible-usurper of someone else’s man. She couldn’t do it.
Chickadee took the stage. Her hair was up in a spiky Aquamarine Mohawk. She was wearing a t-shirt that said, “Aloha!” And vibrant flowers were printed all over her tent-like skirt. She spoke into the microphone, “Hello Charlesville Adjacent Unincorporated Farm community! Welcome to Dilly’s willy-hilly poetry slam. As you know, this here world is getting wetter, the sun is getting hotter, the news more terrifying, the refugees, oy, but hey, when things get bad like this, it’s time to read poetry. Aren’t I right Dillybear?”
Dilly said, “Right you are.”
Chickadee grinned down at her. “Of course I’m right, in everything. I picked you, and that was the rightest of them all.” She looked out at the audience. “First, I’m going to read a poem I want to dedicate to Dilly, the love of my life, the most beautiful woman I ever saw . . .”
Luna felt a big cry coming. She dropped her plate on the grass by her feet and raced for house.
A few seconds behind Dilly rushed in. She didn’t say anything but, “Oh sweetie,” and folded Luna up in a hug. “I should have seen her sit beside you, but my focus was elsewhere.”
Luna sobbed into her shoulder.
“I know. I know,” Dilly said, in her way, knowing, without needing to be told. Finally, after a few moments, Dilly took Luna’s face in her hands, and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Beckett loves you. He told me so. And he meant it. And he is a man of his word. And Chickie and I love you, and you live here now, this is your home.”
Chickadee rushed in the house, banging the screen door in her hurry. “What happened — did that girl say something to you?”
“Not really,” Luna sniveled. “She made it sound as if Beckett has been calling her.”
“There’s no way.”
“But how do you know?” Luna's lower lip trembled.
“Because after Beckett dated her, after she broke his heart, after he was sad about it for a short while, he told me he was glad to be done with her because, and this is a direct quote, ‘she was the least interesting, most boring person in the world.’ That’s why.”
Luna giggled and sobbed at the same time.
Chickadee clucked, put her hands on her hips. “Poor, poor, sweet Luna, your tears are staining your beautiful party face. Now I think you need to sit here in your rocking chair, swish back and forth, stare out over the lawn party, and cry over your Beckett. But, and I’m sorry to say this, you can’t. Not while Dryden is here. I can’t allow you to cede Dilly’s poetry slam to that girl and her yammering friends. You must come to the front row, hold Dilly’s hand, eat chocolate-covered strawberries, and applaud all the lame poetry.”
Dilly said, “I agree with Chickadee, you can’t hide away, you’re too bad ass for that. You should read your poem and—”
Luna shook her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t stand up in front of everyone, not until Beckett is here, it just feels . . .”
Dilly appraised her for a moment. “Okay, but you must applaud the loudest, boo the loudest if it’s required.”
Chickadee put her fingertips under Luna’s chin and pushed it up a bit. “And you must hold your head up and look haughty. That’s my girl. Now I already read my poem. It was beautiful, don’t be sad you missed it Dilly, I will read it to you privately later.”
Dilly gave her a kiss, took her hand, and led her to the front row. Rebecca, Sarah, and Dan shifted to give them a seat. Rebecca whispered, “I’m glad you’re back.”
Dryden glanced down at Luna’s hand entwined with Dilly’s and humphed loudly.
Chickadee’s friend Peter stood and read a poem next. Then another two people, and then Chickadee called Dilly to the stage.
Dilly said, “I have two. The first I’ve written, called, Simply Buzz.
Dilly beamed down at Chickadee and recited:
Flow and fly, righteously zooming, buzzing along with your . . .
It was a beautiful poem, about equal parts bees and Chickadee in a way that made Luna think, of course, the two were a perfect metaphor one for the other. Dilly had a way with words.
Chickadee had taken Dilly’s seat and listened to the poem while holding Luna’s hand. After it was over she whispered, “Told you it would be awesome.”
Luna smiled but deep inside the tears were still coming. She kept watching this thinking — all borrowed, the house, the family, the life.
Dilly said, after the applause and whistles had died down, “As you have surmised, our beloved nephew Beckett couldn’t be here today. He is off serving the Unified Mainland, against our enemies of men or elements — we aren’t sure which, and he isn’t saying because he doesn’t want to worry us. But we worry anyway, don't we Chickie?"
"Yes, yes we do." Chickadee gave Luna's hand another pat.
Dilly continued, "We planned tonight hoping he would be here, so when he called earlier this week, devastating us with the news he wouldn’t make it, he asked me to read something in his stead.”
Dilly pulled an often-read, dogeared, paperback book from behind her back and thumbed through for a marked page. “My apologies, um, okay, here it is . . .” She folded the cover over. “It’s a Calvin and Hobbes comic. One of Beckett’s favorites. I know it’s hard to see, but up here in this top corner, Hobbes, the tiger, is sitting in the wagon and asks, ‘You really think this will work?’
"The boy, Calvin, is tied by a rope to the wagon and holding an umbrella. He says, ‘Of course! Let’s go!’
"The next square, Hobbes is headed downhill, and Calvin is flying. In the next square they narrowly miss this tree trunk.” Dilly pointed at the following square. “Smash! Calvin has hit a tree limb.
"In the next square, Calvin is being dragged, bonk, bonk, bonk, down a hill."
Luna had a full cry happening, happiness and sadness rolled up into one. She was using a napkin to try to stanch the flow.
“Then Hobbes is rattling across a dock. Calvin is upside down, bippity, bippity, bippity. Calvin yells, ‘Look! I’m flying!’ as the wagon dives into the pond. Hobbes flies through the air. Calvin is flying up near the clouds, and in the last square, Hobbes and Calvin are up to their mouths in the creek. Hobbes says, ‘I had my eyes shut, how was it?’ And Calvin
says, ‘Great! What a ride! Let’s get some other kids and charge ‘em!’”
Dilly beamed around the audience, then she cocked her head to the side and spoke to Luna directly. “I didn’t understand why it was this comic, but Beckett told me you would know, Luna. And he said to tell you he loves you, and he’ll be home soon.”
Luna sobbed, nodded, and rolled up into Chickadee’s arms. The audience clapped and whistled.
Dilly said, “That’s our evening folks, please stay for refreshments, and, as always, the stage is open for your impromptu talents!” She met Chickadee and Luna on the front row and everyone hugged.
Rebecca said, “That Dryden girl left, right after Dilly read the comic.”
“Good riddance," said Chickadee, "Not only did she toy with my Beckett’s heart, but her family’s been coming to our poetry slams for — how long Dilly?”
“It’s been at least eight years.”
“And in all that time have they ever read a poem? No, they have not. Not one. Participation is the entire point.”
Dan held up his hands. “Hey now, we didn’t read poems either!”
Chickadee threw an arm around his shoulder. “But see I like you, and it was your first one. Next time you’ll participate.” She sized him up. “I picture you as a bawdy limerick sort of guy.”
He shook his head. “Nope, I save those for in private. In public I’m a gushy love poem kind of guy.” He pulled Sarah close and kissed her on the cheek.
Rebecca said, “Oh my god, do you see what I have to live with? All this love — blech!”
Everyone was smiling. The warmth of the night, the crickets, the gathered people, the Calvin and Hobbes comic, Beckett telling her he loved her in front of everyone, the yummy food, it all colluded to bring Luna back to happy. A big happy. The kind of happy that made her want to cry.
Dilly put an arm around Luna and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re past the halfway mark, now it’s simply waiting for him to come home.”
_________________
The end, but there’s more to Luna’s story...
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Also by Diana Knightley
Leveling: Book One of Luna’s Story
Under: Book Two of Luna’s Story
Deep: Book Three of Luna’s Story
Also by H. D. Knightley (My YA pen name)
Bright (Book One of The Estelle Series)
Beyond (Book Two of The Estelle Series)
Belief (Book Three of The Estelle Series)
Fly; The Light Princess Retold
Violet’s Mountain
Sid and Teddy
Acknowledgments
A big thank you to my story editor, Isobel Dowdee, who found what was lacking and knew exactly how to tweak it and polish it and put a cherry on top. While steering clear of cliches. Your eye for detail is amazing.
A big thank you to Jessica Fox for dropping everything when I was ready for a beta-reader. Your speed and enthusiasm are super appreciated. And to Kristen Schoenmann De Haan who beta-read in the middle of completing her master’s project. You’re awesome. I hope you wowed them with your brilliance.
And to my family, Kevin, Isobel, Fiona, Gwynnie, and Ean, for listening to me talk vaguely about cliffhangers and watery worlds and what ifs that aren’t grounded in reality, thank you. I couldn’t do it without your help.
And thank you to my mother, Mary Jane Knight Cushman, she was a hopeful soul and taught me if the waters rise to grab a paddle.
And finally, to my father, Dave Cushman, who taught me that any story, like life, is better with a punchline.
About me, Diana Knightley
I live in Los Angeles where we have a lot of apocalyptic tendencies that we overcome by wishful thinking. Also great beaches. I maintain a lot of people in a small house, too many pets, and a to-do list that is longer than it should be, because my main rule is: Art, play, fun, before housework. My kids say I am a cool mom because I try to be kind. I’m married to a guy who is like a water god, he surfs, he paddle boards, he built a boat. I’m a huge fan.
I write about heroes and tragedies and magical whisperings and always forever happily ever afters. I love that scene where the two are desperate to be together but can’t because of war or apocalyptic-stuff or (scientifically sound!) time-jumping and he is begging the universe with a plead in his heart and she is distraught (yet still strong) and somehow, through kisses and steamy more and hope and heaps and piles of true love, they manage to come out on the other side.
I like a man in a kilt, especially if he looks like a Hemsworth, doesn’t matter, Liam or Chris.
My couples so far include Beckett and Luna (from the trilogy, Luna’s Story). Who battle their fear to find each other during an apocalypse of rising waters. And, coming soon, Colin and Kaitlyn (from the series Kaitlyn and the Highlander). Who find themselves traveling through time and space to be together.
I write under two pen names, this one here, Diana Knightley, and another one, H. D. Knightley, where I write books for Young Adults. (They are still romantic and fun and sometimes steamy though, because love is grand at any age.)
@Diana_Knightley
DianaKnightleyAuthor
DianaKnightley.com
[email protected]
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