#FlashFictionMagic: June Moon

The air conditioning in the ballroom was cranked up so high that I actually felt relieved when I stepped out onto the balcony into the balmy June evening. It felt good, too, to be nearly finished working my third job of the day. 

Leaning against the railing, I looked out at the brilliant swell of a nearly-full moon beginning to crest the horizon. That’s the strawberry moon, Dirk, the voice of Aunt Melanie echoed in my mind. The little lessons she’d imparted during my childhood were never far from my thoughts.  This evening a particular one had been playing on repeat: “Hard work won’t kill you." 

Working two jobs was barely earning me enough to pay for rent and other essentials. If I wanted more than that, Aunt Mel would undoubtedly say, I needed another job.  That was why tonight, instead of seeing Elena as I normally did on Saturday nights, I was with Royal Caterers, serving food at the kind of large-scale event I couldn’t even dream of being able to afford. 

I was bone tired, but I couldn’t spare more than a few moments’ rest, so after I warmed up a bit, I reluctantly turned to go back inside. As my hand went for the doorknob, I was nearly knocked to the ground as the door flew open and a young woman in a flowing pink ball gown, with her hair all done up, came rushing through. 

For a moment, I was shell-shocked by the sudden flurry of activity, but when I came to my senses, I realized she was crying. I really needed to get back to my station - though hard work wouldn’t kill me, my boss might -  but I wasn’t about to leave someone crying alone on the balcony without at least trying to help. 

“Excuse me. Are you okay?” I said gently, taking a step toward the woman.  

She sniffled, wiped her nose with her wrist, and then turned around to face me. The moment of mutual recognition occurred instantaneously. 

“Dirk?” said Elena. “What are you – ” 

“Elena?” I said. “I thought you were –” 

“You told me you couldn’t be here tonight!” Elena said. 

“I didn’t know you were coming here. I’m working. For the caterers.” 

“This is your second job?” 

I hung my head sheepishly. “Third. The second one’s delivering pizza.”

Elena scowled. “It’s like you’re looking for ways to spend less time with me.”

I felt an immediate stab of regret. ”Is that what you’re crying about?”  

Elena waved a hand. “My cousin, Ana,” she said. “She told me you’re probably cheating on me. Why else would you constantly say you have to work?” 

“Because I actually have to work! I can barely afford to look after myself. Without this job…” 

“Without this job, you’d be in there dancing with me.” 

“But I wouldn’t deserve to be,” I said softly. 

Elena frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“If you can’t afford a diamond, you don’t deserve the girl,” I murmured. Another Aunt Melanie gem. 

“You’re not making any sense.’ 

“It’s something my aunt taught us growing up. I have no business being with you if I can’t afford to get engaged.” 

“You do realize that you also can’t be with me if we don’t spend any time together, right?” 

I grimaced. “I was going to make time.” 

“No, you were going to work yourself to death and then hand me an overpriced diamond because of something your batty old aunt probably told you to keep you away from a sketchy prom date.”

I cracked a smile. Elena had a way of getting right to the heart of the matter. I loved that about her so much. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Elena leaned in closer and squeezed my shoulder. 

I nodded, conceding, then wrapped my arms around her in a warm hug. Though I couldn’t hear any music out here, I began swaying gently back and forth, leading us in a slow dance set to the night sounds surrounding us. 

“So engaged, huh?” Elena said after a minute. 

“I was going to work my way up to proposing, yeah.”

“You could propose with a ring pop, and I’d say yes, you know. An onion ring, even.” 

“Aunt Melanie would be horrified.” 

“Aunt Melanie doesn’t know everything.” 

“She knew this moon was a strawberry moon.” 

“It looks more like a lemon to me. Or a slice of banana.” 

“I don’t think she meant it looked like a strawberry.” 

“And she probably also didn’t mean you literally don’t deserve me if you can’t give me the ring of the century.” She pulled back to give me a look. 

“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know,” Elena said gently. “Seriously, though, quit this job. I don’t need an expensive diamond. I just need you.” 

I could already hear Aunt Melanie’s voice rising again in the depths of my memory, preaching about the lack of victory for quitters. Pushing it aside, I buried my face in Elena’s neck and held her just a bit tighter as the June moon rose higher and we kept on dancing.