The Royal Delivery

by Melanie Summers

  I chuckle a little, and when he looks at me, he smiles. “You’ve turned into exactly the type of man I wish I had become, Arthur.”

  My head snaps back a little in shock, and I stammer over my answer. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For becoming a good leader in spite of your old man. You saved this family, Arthur. You and your strange, potty-mouthed wife, and I owe you both.”

  “Not really.”

  “Yes, really. Now, to the second reason I came to find you. These past months have been a bit of a farewell to my freedom tour, in a way. I want you to be a better father than I was. In my case, staying away from you and Arabella was probably the right thing, but you’re different. You’ll be a wonderful father, and because of that your children will need you near. I’ve decided to take back the reins and...well...reign.” He stands and nods. “And don’t worry. I won’t fuck it up.”

  He turns and starts for the door, and I find myself wishing he wouldn’t go, which is strange because I’ve pretty much hated him since I was ten. I stand. “Dad, hang on.”

  He turns back and smiles. “What is it?”

  “Just this.” I take a couple of steps and hug him. A long, sweaty hug that neither of us was expecting.

  He wraps his arms around me and hugs me back, and even though he’s shorter than me, I somehow feel small again, but not in a bad way.

  The door swings open, and my father’s senior adviser, Phillip, walks in. “Your Majes...” His voice trails off.

  We break apart and give each other a quick, formal nod before he pivots on his heel. “Yes, Phillip, what do you need?”

  They walk out the door, and I find myself standing in the middle of the gym, trying to sort out what the fuck just happened. The story about my mother sinks in, and I’m rocked by the sadness of it all. I’m all at once filled with a sense of hope as well, knowing I love my grouchy, enormously swollen Hobbit wife with everything in me and she loves me right back with an intensity that’s sometimes frightening. I toss my towel in the ‘used’ bin and set off to go fix everything.

  IRENE ANSWERS THE DOOR, her face spreading into a wide smile when she sees who it is. "Prince Arthur, what are you doing here?" A look of understanding crosses her face, and she lowers her voice. "Oh, you came to make up with Evi and Ruben.”

  "I'm here to try."

  She steps aside, giving me barely enough room to get into the apartment, then says, "Good luck. They’re really pissed at you."

  “Brilliant.”

  "I'll go get them." Irene walks down the hall, and I stand awkwardly in the doorway, taking a look around. It's a nice apartment with a view of the park across the street, but I can see how there wouldn't be enough room for four adults to live comfortably here—especially if two of those adults are Evi and Ruben Sharpe. But I suppose thoughts like that aren’t going to be useful for me if I intend to patch things up. My hands feel clammy, and I wipe them along the sides of my suit jacket as I wait. A moment later, I hear Evi's voice getting closer.

  "Well, just give him a chance. You have no idea what he’s going to say."

  "I don't care what he’s going to say."

  When they walk into the living room, Ruben gives me a solid glare, then folds his arms across his chest. "I suppose you're here with a bill for the damage."

  "No. I'm here to apologize and beg you to move back in with us," I say, feeling like an absolute cad when I see the hurt in their eyes. "I never should've spoken to you like I did. I was completely out of turn, and I'm truly sorry."

  Evi smiles and nods. “Good enough for me, I'll go pack."

  Spinning on her heel, she disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with Ruben and Irene (who is seated on the couch, pretending to watch a daytime talk show when in actual fact, she's eavesdropping).

  Ruben shakes his head at me. “You really hurt Evi's feelings. Not mine, mind you, but I won't tolerate people speaking to my wife the way you did.”

  “Nor should you. It was quite unforgivable for me to lose my temper like that,” I say. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never had a good feeling toward me again. You don’t ever have to talk to me again, but Tessa needs you and Evi right now. She’s a mess. She’s also completely furious with me, and she’s scared.” Sighing, I say, "So am I.”

  His face softens a bit so I take the opportunity to try and explain.

  “I'm not sure if you'll be able to relate to this at all," I say, looking Ruben straight in the eye. "But as soon as I found out we were expecting, something just happened to me—I can’t exactly explain it, but I suddenly found myself a bit of a nervous wreck, to be honest. And I've been making some shockingly bad decisions, not the least of which was how I overreacted to what happened the other day.”

  “That you have.”

  “But...I think I got it out of my system, and I'm going to be okay now."

  "You better be. Because in a matter of days you're going to have the responsibility of a lifetime, and you had better bloody well step up."

  "I will. I promise you I will take the best possible care of Tessa and our children,” I swallow my emotions and keep talking. “I’d do anything for them. Take any risk necessary, lay down my life if I had to...”

  He gives a conciliatory nod. "I've never doubted you would.”

  “Thank you, Ruben. That means a lot to me.”

  “Well, I mean it. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband for Tess, even if you have been acting like a jackass lately.”

  I chuckle a little. “I have been, haven’t I?”

  “Pretty normal for a father-to-be, actually.”

  “Is it?” I ask.

  He nods. “That’s why I’m willing to let this whole thing go.”

  “Really? I’m forgiven?”

  “Yep.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve also given some thought to what you said about how we treat Tess and I suppose there’s some truth to it. We haven’t always given her the encouragement she needed or the credit she deserved. I intend to tell her as much. Evi, too. We both feel quite bad, actually.”

  “That’ll mean a lot to Tessa.” Shaking my head, I say, “This parenting thing might be somewhat trickier than I thought.”

  Ruben snorts a bit. “It’s the hardest fecking thing you’ll ever do. But also the very best.”

  “I’m in for a lot of trouble, aren’t I?”

  “You have no idea,” he says, slapping me on the shoulder. “But you won’t be alone to figure it out.”

  “Does that mean you'll come back?"

  "All packed!" Evi calls from down the hall.

  Ruben glances down the hall and chuckles. "Apparently so.”

  "I'll go get your bags," I say with a smile. I take a step, then turn back to Ruben. “Ruben, thank you.”

  "For what?"

  "For forgiving me."

  He smiles at me. "That's what families do."

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Extremely Logical Priorities, Ice Storms, and Birthing Hips

  Tessa

  I'm making myself a tuna sandwich with one slice of bread for elevenses. I now have so little room for my stomach that I eat tiny meals several times a day to avoid horrible indigestion/heartburn. I’ve already showered, so I’ll start another round of visualizing my cervix opening as soon as I’ve eaten. Although it won’t work. I can’t concentrate long enough to get anything going, not that it would necessarily work anyway.

  Arthur left for his workout at 7:30 this morning, and he still hasn’t come back yet, which is odd for a Saturday. Although, I suppose it’s not that odd, since we are basically avoiding each other at the moment. We still haven't made up from our fight last week, which is a very bad sign, I'd say. I know you're never supposed to go to bed angry, but every time I think about having a conversation with him, I realize there's no point in bringing it up until I can calm down.

  But the longer this goes on, the harder it is for either of us to approach the subje
ct. We’re exceedingly cordial to each other when we find ourselves in the same room, but there is very little eye contact and absolutely no affection coming from either of us, even though I'd very much like to give him a big hug. Well, sort of; I'm still pretty pissed about how he treated my parents and the fact that the two attempts we've made to discuss my parents have failed, ending with him insisting it's for the best to have them gone. For my sake. Hah! Not bloody likely.

  The door opens, and I hear him come in. Dexter gets up to greet him, but I stay in the kitchen.

  “Hello, Dexter. Have you been keeping Tessa company whilst I was out?” Pause. “Good boy.”

  Arthur comes around the corner with Dexter at his heels. He stops when he sees me and gives me a sort of sad smile that breaks my heart a little.

  “Hi,” I say with a slight wave. “I’m making tuna for elevenses. Don’t suppose you want some?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m all right, thanks.”

  I sigh, knowing he doesn’t want anything from me. “Okay. Where’ve you been?"

  "I was out getting you something you need."

  "Is that so?" Here we go again. “What if you ask me what I need instead of assuming?”

  He walks over to me and stands directly in front of me. Staring down at me, he says, “Let me give it a try and see if I can figure it out for myself. You need me to listen to you. You need me to stop assuming I know what you need, and more than that, you need me to know that you know what you need better than anyone else.”

  “That’s a pretty good start, actually.”

  “And you need your parents nearby to help you through the next several scary weeks."

  I narrow my eyes, feeling a little confused. “Did you go get my parents?"

  "I went to Bram’s and begged their forgiveness and asked them to move back here—not just until the house is ready, but until we feel like we can handle things on our own.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Your father needed some convincing, a lot of groveling, and a steadfast promise that I’ll always look after his little girl.”

  “And my mum?”

  “Basically started packing the moment I got there,” he says with a little grin.

  “Of course she did.”

  He holds out his hands to me, and I place mine on his, feeling an enormous weight lifting off my chest. "What about Mr. Whiskers?"

  "He's not coming. Apparently, they've sent him to a cat rehab expert. She’s going to keep him for a few months and see if she can cure him of his destructive ways."

  “So, are they back already?”

  “Tomorrow. They’re staying at Lars and Nina’s tonight to mind the kids whilst they’re at a Christmas party.”

  “Okay, well, good. I guess. I mean, I know they’ve been a real pain in the arse, especially for you and the staff, but I just need my parents right now, you know?”

  “I don’t really know, Tess,” I say in a gentle voice. “My parents weren’t exactly the type you could rely on.”

  “I wish you could’ve had what I had when you were growing up.”

  Arthur shrugs. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It all turned out in the end because I found you.”

  “I love you so much, it hurts.” I reach up and kiss him, then we press our foreheads together. “This past week has been absolutely awful. I never want to fight like this again,” I say.

  "Me neither. Let's promise each other that no matter what, we’ll just keep talking until we sort out whatever is wrong, even if we’re up all night."

  "Deal." Arthur pulls me in for a big hug. He can barely reach around to my sides now, but he makes it work anyway. “I love you, Tessa Langdon.”

  A sharp kick comes from my tummy, and we both laugh a little.

  “Was that a fluke or—”

  Another kick has Arthur grinning and pulling back. He lowers his head, puts his hands on my belly and says, “Hello, in there. Come out soon, little babies, so we can meet you.”

  A long rippling across my belly is his answer. He looks up at me and grins. “I think they know me now.”

  “I think so, too. They’re going to love you, you know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you won me over, and I don’t like anyone.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, I wake with a sense of urgency (and not just because there is a tiny human bouncing away on my bladder). This is different. It’s the strangest feeling—like I don’t have enough time to get things done. After I go pee, I check the clock and see it’s not quite five in the morning. I crawl back into bed, where it’s warm and cozy, hoping for sleep to come, but every time I close my eyes, they spring back open and I glance around the room.

  What is wrong with me? I mean, seriously. I sigh and stare at Arthur, tempted to wake him from his long winter’s nap.

  It’s Christmas Eve. That’s why I’m awake. I love Christmas normally, but this year I’m even more excited to open the enormous gift Arthur bought me. It’s been sitting under the tree for days now, and I have no clue what it could be. I tried shaking it a little, but it was so heavy I couldn’t even budge it. And I know you’re supposed to be more thrilled to give than receive, but honestly, it’s huge.

  Hmm...I wonder if it’s too early to wake Arthur and suggest we exchange gifts? Maybe, yes.

  It’s no use. I can’t sleep. Oh, I know, I can finish wrapping presents for my nieces and nephews. I get up, pull on my bathrobe, and wander to the living room. Glancing out the window, I see that in the time since we've fallen asleep, the entire world seems to have been covered with snow. I walk over to take a look, but as soon as I reach the window, I feel a dull ache that starts in my back and spreads across to my abdomen.

  Well, that certainly doesn't feel nice. I freeze and stand perfectly still, hoping it will go away, and after a few seconds, it does.

  One of the babies kicks, and I put my hand on the spot, wondering if he or she can feel that. "Can you feel that, too? What does that feel like for you?" God, I hope it's not feeling like they're getting squished in there. Although I can't imagine they have much room to begin with...

  "Dr. Dropp said I was likely to get Braxton Hicks contractions in the next little while, so that's probably what this is. So, if either of you are thinking you're going to get out of there today, I hate to burst your bubble, but I highly doubt it."

  By the time I've wrapped three presents, I realize these dull aches may be actual contractions. They are getting a little bit deeper each time, and if I’m not mistaken, are coming on fairly regularly. On the next one, I feel a small rush of water you-know-where.

  Well, that was strange. Not at all like when a woman's water breaks on the telly and there's a huge puddle. This was more like a very small bit. Now I'm glad I didn't wake Arthur up, because that was rather embarrassing. I stand and get some cleaning products out from under the kitchen sink and start to clean the chair, only just as I'm finishing, another contraction starts—at this point, I think I'll start calling them contractions, that seems about right—and more water comes out. I hurry to the bedroom, open the door, and rummage around through my drawers to find fresh clothes.

  Arthur stirs and says, "Everything okay?"

  "Fine, yes. I was just wrapping some presents. I couldn't sleep,” I say. “Oh, and I'm pretty sure my waters have broke."

  Arthur rolls over, then says, "Okay. Let me know if you need any help with the presents."

  I walk toward the bathroom with my bundle full of clothes, then I hear the exact moment Arthur's sleepy brain has finished processing what's happening. "Good God, did you say your waters have broke?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  He scrambles to get out of bed, hurrying over to me in his underwear. "Excellent. Brilliant. Okay, let's get you to the hospital, then."

  "There's no rush. I'd like to take a shower first and finish wrapping those presents, actually."

  Even though it's still dark in the room, I can tell he's giving me a very bewildered
look. "Did you just say you want to finish wrapping presents?"

  "Yes. I mean, as far as I can tell, these contractions are still quite far apart, and after the babies are born, we’re really not going to have time to finish this."

  "You do realize we have a rather large staff that could manage the gift wrapping on our behalf? Including a royal gift wrapper? She does a lovely job."

  "Oh yes, I know she does. But I decided to do it myself. Personal touch, and all that,” I say over my shoulder as I make my way to the bathroom and close the door.

  When I’m finished showering, Arthur is dressed and on the phone.

  "What do you mean closed?" Pause. He gives me a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, then turns and walks farther down the hall, presumably so I can't hear his conversation. I follow him and listen (obviously).

  "Well, tell them to open the bloody roads because we need to get to Valcourt Memorial immediately." After another long pause, Arthur says, “Yes. That’ll be fine. Thank him for me."

  He hangs up the phone and turns to me. "Bit of a snag. The roads are closed, but not to worry. The police will be sending an escort to get us to the hospital. Apparently, they have some Bohemeth SUV that can cut through the snow like a hot knife through ice cream."

  "Sounds good,” I say, reaching up to give him a kiss. “We should be able to wrap these presents before they get here then, yes?"

  “Okkaaayyy..." he says, giving me the ‘I married a crazy person’ look.

  We set to work for a few minutes, and then another contraction hits me. This one is much stronger, and I wince, holding my breath until it passes.

  "Jesus. That looked rather painful."

  "Yes. Very unpleasant, I must say. If that's what this is going to be like, I'm even more determined than ever to get that whole twilight sleep thing going." I give him a reassuring look, but he doesn't smile back.

  Glancing down at the table, I point to the board game he’s wrapping. "That one is for Knox. The gift tags are right over here." I pluck one off the table and pass it to Arthur, then set back to work.