Page 136 of Holding on to Chaos
Amethyst raised her glass to his. “To the Beautification Committee and to Ellery and Mason.”
“Of course, of course. Them too.” His head bobbed in agreement, sending his frizzy red clown ringlets bouncing.
The clowns touched glasses, and Eva hid her laugh. She was surrounded by crazy. Well-meaning, lovable crazy, and she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. Maybe Blue Moon wasn’t the worst place in the world to accidentally change her life.
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Donovan:Crisis averted. Barely. Argument over order of parade floats turned ugly.
Eva:All us corpses are behaving perfectly on this end of town.
Donovan:I’m going to come through with the parade to keep an eye on things. I’ll be the masked sheriff stepping on discarded tootsie rolls.
Eva:Try to get close to Phoebe and Franklin so you can see Emma’s surprise.
Donovan:Will do. Gotta go separate the Girl Scouts from the Boy Scouts. They’re either going to start fighting or making out.
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The wedding guests—buoyed by the flowing alcohol—lined up around their coffin tables to watch the parade. Eva made sure that Emma and Niko had a front row seat. The high school marching band tromped past them playing “The Monster Mash.” Evan, sent them a wink over his trumpet, and Aurora jumped up holding Lydia to give him a little sister standing ovation.
The Society for the Preservation of Blue Moon Values was next with their psychedelic herd of VW Buses. They were led by Ernest Washington, who was throwing full-size candy bars from the roof of his rainbow bus.
Sugar stirred the crowd, making them more excitable, and Eva was relieved to see the next float. She brought her fingers to her mouth and watched as Blue Moon’s Farming Society rolled up in a hay wagon. Phoebe and Franklin were perched on rocking chairs. Next to them were Vadim and Greta, Niko’s father and stepmother.
“What are my parents doing on a float in Blue Moon?” Niko asked, gaping at the wagon. “Am I hallucinating?”
Emma grinned and pointed. “Wait. I think they’re trying to tell you something.”
Greta and Phoebe were pretending to knit opposite ends of a huge blanket. Vadim and Franklin simultaneously snapped newspapers open. The backs of the newspapers spelled something out. With a wink, Phoebe and Greta held the blanket sideways.
We’re going to be grandparents.
“Holy sh— Emma?” Niko was halfway out of his chair. “Oh, my God. Are you? Are we—You’re dressed as amummy.” The realization hit Niko like a corpse reviver. He was sweeping Emma off her feet and swinging her in a circle as parade participants and spectators cheered.
“Surprise,” Emma whispered. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
Eva felt her eyes go damp at the sweetness of the moment. She spotted Donovan in the center of it all, his attention was on the crowd, but he was grinning. That dimpled smile that melted her every time she saw it. She was looking at her future. And that wasn’t Uranus talking.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
It started innocently enough over a box of Red Hots the fire department flung into the crowd as they inched along in one of their engines. Two kids made a grab for it. And then all hell broke loose. Looking back on it, Donovan had felt the tension in the air as he walked the parade route, vigilant for mischief. It was only a matter of time before it imploded.
The kids scrapped on the sidewalk, and then the parents stepped in. It went downhill quickly from there.
Thanks to the “make love not war” mentality, not many citizens knew how to make a proper fist let alone plow that fist into someone else’s face. The fight was more slapping and hair-pulling with some biting thrown in for good measure.
Donovan waded in and dragged two middle-aged fathers apart. “You two need to keep your cool,” he ordered. “Now, separate and go on home, or I’m going to have to drag you into the station.”
It was right about that time that one of them bit him on the forearm.
“Goddammit,” Donovan muttered. “I’m gonna need backup,” he said into the radio. He grabbed the bigger of the dads in a headlock.
“Sheriff, we’ve got problems at the park,” Minnie announced from his radio.
“Shit.” The melee was spreading. The moms were now shouting insults at each other.
“Meat-eater!”
