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.
