by Lara Hunter
Several tabloid reporters began to scribble down notes, realizing that this would become a front-page story within the hour. And they were there. Ready to break it.
“No. I’m going to hash this out, right here, right now,” Francesco declared. “I don’t care if they write about it. It would be good if they wrote the truth, for once.”
Lisa felt Francesco’s grip tighten around her hand. She began to sweat profusely, hating everyone’s eyes upon her. She smiled grimly, knowing this was her 15 minutes of fame—and that she was about 50 pounds too large for it.
“Why on earth would you buy someone else’s baby from them?” Francesco demanded then. “That’s disgusting, Rose. More disgusting than when you shoved that homeless girl to the ground in Greece, even.”
“She was in the way,” Rose interrupted, her eyes wide. “And I told you never to bring that up again.”
“Oh, but here we go. We aren’t lying anymore, Rose,” he growled. “You know I never loved you. You know I never wanted to be with you. And yet, you’re forcing me into this marriage through my father. Why don’t we tell the people about that?”
Princess Rose shot forward, stabbing her finger at the Prince’s chest. “How dare you, Francesco. We’ve been betrothed since we were teenagers. You can’t just ‘get out’ of being betrothed.”
“This isn’t the Middle Ages, Princess,” Francesco said. A flash of light from a camera made his face look too bright, frozen in anger. “We’re supposed to love who we love, with or without our parents’ approval. I don’t care a lick about your kingdom. And let’s face it: you don’t care about mine, either.”
The Princess could sense she was losing. She turned toward the paparazzi, her lower lip wobbling slightly. She lifted an ivory-colored napkin to her eyes and mopped up crocodile tears, pandering to the cameras.
“The wedding’s off, Rose,” the Prince announced, gesturing with fiery, Mediterranean passion. “I can’t believe I spent so much of my life with you, just trying to satisfy my parents’ wishes. And now that I’m 30, I can finally begin living. With a wonderful woman who appreciates the world, and all the things in it.”
As Francesco spoke, Lisa felt a sudden, stabbing pain in her abdomen. She cut from Francesco’s grip and bucked back from the confrontation, her hands upon her belly. She blinked rapidly, realizing something was off. Something was happening. But because of the display of anger and emotion before them, no one in the room noticed her pain. She clenched her teeth together and gripped at the fabric of her dress, trying to not cry out in agony.
The Prince and Princess continued to argue, airing all of the times the other had wronged them. But Lisa couldn’t hear it, anymore. She leaned heavily on a chair to the side, concentrating on her breathing, and realizing that she hadn’t yet read all the “appropriate” books about birth, to prepare herself. She’d been too worried about how she was going to support herself, and the babies, to worry about how she’d get them out of her in the first place.
She began to feel dizzy, then. The world fluttered with bright lights, and with noises she could no longer discern the meaning of. She began to fall back—something she would remember like falling into a cool, summer pool—and she crumpled at the feet of a photographer, who immediately turned his lens to her and took a photograph.
She was news.
The Prince rushed toward her as soon as he heard her fall. He wrapped his hands around her and he cooed to her, his eyes soft. “Oh my God, baby. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “We’re going to make sure you’re okay. You’re going to be just fine.”
All the while, Princess Rose stormed through the ballroom, inviting reporters to talk to her, to get “the true story.” Sensing she was getting nowhere, she glared at them, before bolting from the ballroom and down the street. But by that point, Francesco and Lisa had forgotten about her—casting her image far from their minds. They had babies to save. They had to help these three little lives come into the world without trauma.
Lisa came to moments later, blinking at the Prince’s handsome face, hardly able to acknowledge this dream as reality. “It hurts so much,” she breathed. “I don’t think I can walk any longer.”
“It’s all right, baby,” the Prince said, kissing her fingers with soft lips. “We’ve called an ambulance. You’re going to be all right, Lisa. And we’re going to make sure our babies are healthy and safe. I promise.”
In that moment, the EMT workers burst through the door, carrying a stretcher between them. They eased Lisa’s writhing body upon the gurney, and carried her swiftly back to the ambulance.
The Prince followed closely behind, diving into the ambulance and addressing the swarming reporters. “Tell the real story, this time,” he warned them. “Tell them I love who I love. Lisa Garcia. Of the Daily Sneak.”
The EMT slammed the doors in the reporters’ faces, and then the ambulance was off, skidding through traffic, revving toward the Upper West Side hospital.
All the while, Lisa’s breath came in shudders, and her skin turned pale and clammy. But she clamped her fingers around Francesco’s, and she stared up into his eyes, knowing he was her paradise island, in a stormy sea. He would help guide her to shore.
FIFTEEN
They reached the hospital minutes later, Lisa breathing heavily upon the gurney. The EMT workers took her straight to the delivery floor, where a doctor and several nurses began to check her vital signs and assess how advanced her labor was. Lisa’s eyes were panicked, filling with tears at every surge of pain, and she squeezed onto Francesco’s hand for dear life—scarcely able to believe that he was there, beside her.
“It hurts so much,” she whispered, as a nurse rushed from the room, on the hunt for a specialist. “It feels like something’s a little off. I don’t know. I feel like such a wimp.” She laughed weakly, but soon devolved to tears. “Damn. I used to be such a strong woman, when you met me. Now, I’m a sweating, weepy ball of sadness.”
“Shh,” Francesco said, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “Don’t talk like that. These babies are going to grow up knowing that you’re the strongest, most wonderful woman in the world—and that even me, a prince, couldn’t hide my love for you.”
“Now you’re getting cocky, Prince Charming,” Lisa teased, still clenching her teeth. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand it,”
she muttered.
Another specialist raced in, then. He knelt down, speaking to Lisa in soft tones. “Hi, Lisa. I wanted to tell you that I’ve consulted with the other doctors, and we’ve decided to perform a C-section to get these babies out in the fastest, safest way possible. We’re going to move you to surgery immediately, and get this rolling. You’re about to be a mother.”
Lisa’s eyes grew wide, but she nodded calmly, knowing that this was the path to healthy babies, and that she had to be brave. She felt the bed wheel down the hallway, then. And she allowed herself to devolve from consciousness, with the anesthetic.
***
Before she knew it, Lisa was back, blinking awake in a brightly-lit room, a massive weight lifted from her stomach, a seemingly unending amount of fatigue in her arms, legs, and heart.
Then, she saw the babies, all tucked away in white blankets in three cradles beside the bed, sleeping. Two of them wore blue bonnets, and one wore pink, and the sight of their olive skin, perfect eyes and tiny fingers nearly broke her in two.
Francesco appeared, then, wearing scrubs. A nurse was with him, smiling brightly. “Hello, Lisa,” she said. “Do you want to meet your babies?”
Lisa nodded, tears leaking from her eyes. She felt sheer delight at being handed two babies, a boy and a girl, as Francesco accepted the second boy. The nurse bowed her head, sensing that they needed some space. “I’ll leave you two alone. And know that the paparazzi downstairs don’t have a chance of getting up here. Our security guards are top-notch.” She winked, and then spun around, her sneakers squeaking as she marched down the hallway.
Lisa and Franc
esco shared an intimate look with each other before allowing their eyes to dive back down to their babies. The babies slept calmly, making contented breathing noises.
“I can’t believe they’re all okay,” Lisa whispered. “I was so panicked on the way here. I thought maybe all the stress, and the moving around I did had hurt them. I felt like the worst mother in the world.”
“I knew you’d pull through, Lisa,” Francesco breathed. “It seems like you always do. No matter what.”
Lisa eyed him tentatively, then, noting the way he tapped his finger ever-so-slightly against his son’s nose. This must have been an endless whirlwind for him. Just the previous day, he’d been enduring the rehearsal of his wedding to a princess. He’d thought that the map of his life had been plotted.
Now, the questions came swiftly to Lisa’s mind, bringing with them fresh fears for the future. She cleared her throat, knowing she couldn’t remain in the dark for long. There, holding their three children between them, she knew the rest of her life hinged upon the next few moments.
“Francesco. I need to ask you something,” she whispered.
“What is it?”
“I wondered if—if we have a future together, the five of us?” Her eyelashes fluttered. She shifted the babies slightly, her shoulder blades pushing into the pillow behind her. “I need to know, because, if not, I need to go back to Detroit. Don’t feel any pressure. I know it’s been a strange time for you. And I’ve had eight months to prepare for this conversation.” She swallowed, sensing they were dipping into awkward territory.
Francesco didn’t speak for a long time. He slid his hand over the baby boy’s head, gazing at the softness of his features. “We have a future together, Lisa,” he murmured, finally. “I can’t imagine any other future right now, now that I hold our son in my arms. And I know that the five of us will stay together, forever.”
Lisa grinned brightly, relief washing over her. She hesitated, sensing he had more to say.
“I’m so, so sorry, Lisa,” Francesco said, his voice cracking slightly. “You must have felt so alone, so frightened, all these months. It can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t,” Lisa whispered. “When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted you to be there, every step of the way. But when I couldn’t speak to you, when I thought you knew about the baby but were ignoring me, my sadness was eclipsed by anger.”
“Of course,” Francesco agreed, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. But now that I am, I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you, and to our children. The three of them.”
Lisa leaned toward him, then. Francesco’s eyes filled with emotion, and he placed his lips on hers in a long overdue, passionate kiss, that seemed to throttle through her, filling her with intense love, and resolution.
The moment the kiss broke, one of the boy babies’ eyes opened wide, showing bright blues, like Lisa’s.
Lisa’s smile stretched wide. “What should we name them?”
“We haven’t had time to think about it, have we?” Francesco laughed. “We haven’t had time to talk about anything.”
“But we can’t let them live without names for so long,” Lisa said, sighing. “They need identities in this mad world.”
“But good identities,” he affirmed. “Identities that will stand up in the Kingdom of Aluzzi, which also link to your world, back in Detroit.”
The couple thought for a moment. Lisa eyed the baby whose bright blues scanned the room’s horizon, searching for some sign of the world, but finding nothing but plastic and plaster.
“Oscar,” she said then, nodding her head toward him. “I think he looks like an Oscar.”
“Prince Oscar,” Francesco said, tilting his head toward the cooing baby. “I think that has a ring to it. Don’t you?”
“Of course,” Lisa said, smiling. “The world is his, now.”
“And it’s also Fiona’s world,” Francesco said, nodding toward the little girl.
“Fiona?” Lisa breathed. “I love that. I can’t tell you how much I do.”
“And what about this little guy?” Francesco asked, looking stumped. A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “Something of the caliber of Fiona and Oscar. Wouldn’t you say?”
“Something from your world,” Lisa said, her eyelashes fluttering. “Something Aluzzian. Something strong.”
Francesco nodded, pausing for several long moments, during which he seemed to race through every name he’d ever known, growing up.
“Something with a bit of personality from both of us,” he decided, then. “Eduardo. It was my uncle’s name—a man with incredible bravery, who died in battle. And we can call him Eddie. Which suits your world rather well, now, doesn’t it?”
Lisa agreed, beaming. She slipped her fingers across her babies’ cheeks, inhaling their warm smells, and then kissed them all goodnight as they drifted back to sleep. “Fiona. Oscar. And Eduardo,” she said, scarcely able to believe it. “Two princes, and a princess. They’re already spoiled.”
“Don’t forget about yourself,” the Prince said then, his eyebrows high.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll be a princess, too, you know.”
“How’s that?” Lisa asked, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I’m no princess. I’m from blue-collar Detroit.”
“And you will be my wife,” Francesco said, his gaze intense. “If you’ll have me.”
Lisa’s breath caught in her throat. She nodded quickly, tears forming in her eyes, until he kissed her, sealing her yes. She leaned heavily into the pillow, watching as Francesco planted each baby into his or her cradle, before joining beside her on the white sheets and cuddling her until she fell asleep.
The world was a raucous, strange place. But there, tucked away in the Upper West Side hospital, surrounded by her new family, Lisa felt utterly serene. For the first time in her entire life, she felt peace.
The End
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I hope you enjoyed the story. As an added treat, here are the first few chapters of my previous novel, The Prince’s Cinderella Love
ONE
Snow drifted lazily past the window, tossed about by the occasional breathy gasp of wind. It was getting close to the shortest day of the year, and the dark, mottled clouds were barely visible in the dying afternoon light. At home, the streetlamps would already be lit. The sky would look brown in the reflected light, and it wouldn’t get nearly as dark as it already was out here. They say New York City never sleeps. Upstate New York, however, was about to slip into a deep and dreamy slumber.
“I’m going,” Barb announced.
I spun around to face her. “Right. See you tomorrow.”
“Drive safe, the snow is going to get pretty heavy later!”
The older woman trundled off toward the front door, but I stayed put. I wanted to gaze at the snowfall just a little longer. It settled delicately on the shrubs and evergreens in the sprawling back garden, frosting them in pure, perfect white.
I wondered whether it was quieter inside or outside the house right now. Now that Barb had left, there was only me, alone in the mansion. Outside, there was a whole wide world—but the hedged fence surrounding the property seemed to block it out entirely.
Either way, it was getting late. If I wanted to at least hit a reasonable section of the Friday traffic, I had to scoot. Sighing, I turned from the window, picked up my bucket, and headed back toward the foyer.
I passed under vaulted ceilings, through elaborate sitting rooms, and finally into a modern laundry room that served as Barb and my cleaning headquarters. After putting back my bucket and throwing my cloth into the laundry, I slipped on my coat and grabbed my purse. It was time to hit the road and head back to the bustling city.
I
ran through a mental shopping list on my way to the mansion’s front door. I would probably need to stop somewhere on the way to grab dinner; I wasn’t sure if I had enough energy to bother cooking.
I placed a hand on the ornate iron door handle, but it turned underneath my fingers before I could begin to move it.
I darted back, unnerved by the prospect of finding out who was on the other side of the door. Clutching my purse in my hands, I prepared to make use of my makeshift weapon.
The door swung inward, and I held my breath as Prince Kasper van Dijk, my boss, walked inside, brushing flakes of snow from his glowing blond hair.
