by Brown, Tara
Jess’ phone buzzed, forcing her to lift her head and by the sneer that grew on her lips, I assumed the message was from Sheila or her sister.
“What is it?” I asked.
“They sent their family photo from Hawaii. Who the hell is that?” She flashed the phone at me, showing the photo of a tanned Sheila, an old man, a very pregnant Suzzy, and her husband all standing on the beach smiling wide.
“I’m assuming it’s Sheila’s—”
“Investment banker named Hobbs. Martin Hobbs. We used to work together once upon a time. He mentored me. I heard he retired a couple of years ago. He must be near seventy. Lives in Palm Springs and has millions, nearly billions,” my father said as he came into the room with a large mug of tea. “Poor old bastard. He has no idea what he’s in for. They’ve been together for about four months now. And I don't know that I’ve ever felt sorrier for anyone.” He gave Jess a caring smile. “No offense, obviously.”
“None taken, obviously. Poor old bastard is right. He’s about to become the saddest millionaire you know.” Jess clicked her phone off, not responding to the message. “And how gross is she? Hooking up with dudes that much older for money?”
“Anyway,” Hattie interrupted, “now that we’ve opened gifts and eaten our weight in pastries and mocked that witch”—she paused, tilting her head at me—“are you going to tell us you’re pregnant or do we have to find out via the tabloids like the rest of the peasants?”
I nearly dropped my mug of cocoa. It had become my replacement for lattes.
Jess’ jaw fell.
“Oh, Hattie.” Dad laughed, shaking his head. “You were supposed to let her tell us.”
“It’s been three days and she hasn't said shit. I’m not waiting another minute. I want details,” Hattie snapped.
“How in the hell do you know?” I asked, confirming her information.
“Thanksgiving. You were in the early stages, nauseous and off. I could tell.” She lifted her nose, proud of her ability to deduce this. “And then the rushed engagement announcement. You don't seem excited to be engaged. You’re marrying a king and you don't care.”
“Well, I didn't even know at Thanksgiving. I found out when we got home and I realized I hadn’t had a period.” I blushed and lamented, “I’m due mid-June. I’ll just finish school and then the baby will come.”
“Well, speaking of bastards, you can’t very well have one. What is the wedding date?”
“Hattie!” Dad blurted.
“No, she’s right. You’re right.” I met her gaze, fighting the urge to cry. “Aiden just announced to parliament that our date for the wedding is February fourteenth. I’ll be just shy of five months pregnant. The dress will be empire waist. It’s already being made. I imagine the entire wedding is organized already.”
“I’m so sorry, Fin.” Hattie winced, softening no doubt from hearing my lack of excitement. “How’s the evil queen taking it?”
“She’s not. She called it a scandal. Said I was desperate to get pregnant so I could trap Aiden—”
“That bitch!” My father’s nostrils flared, making me recoil a bit.
“Clearly, she doesn't know you very well. If anyone was trying to trick Aiden into pregnancy and marriage, it was Alex,” Hattie said, eyeing my father’s savage expression.
“All right, that’s enough of that!” Jess shouted, obviously seeing what I saw. “Why do you two make that weird face every time we talk about Alex?”
“What face?” Dad asked, his cheeks red and his eyes wide.
“Just tell them,” Hattie spoke with a chuckle. “They’re going to find out one way or another.”
“Hattie,” Dad warned her but she just waved him off.
“Your father is dating again.”
“Jeeze, you’re not dating Alex?” Jess blurted.
“God no.” Dad shuddered.
“It’s not Jolene, is it?” I questioned suspiciously.
“Jolene?” Hattie asked, confirming it was indeed not her.
“My old secretary. No. She’s engaged to a friend actually. Just happened.” Dad sounded funny, strained. “It’s Alex’s mother, Muriel Hargreaves.”
“What!” Jess and I shouted in unison.
“I didn't mean for it to happen,” Dad bemoaned, not sounding like himself at all. “I went to her house to confront her over drugging you and trying to meddle in your life. She broke down and told me everything. Her husband had left her for a friend. Her daughter blamed her for everything, though she hadn’t done any of it. I felt sorry for her.”
“So you banged her?” I asked rudely.
“No, Finley,” he warned again. “Watch yourself. I took her to lunch and we talked, and it was easy. The conversation was easy. It flowed. She understood what it was like having daughters and”—he paused—“anyway, we understood one another. I went home and the next time something happened I found myself giving her a call and telling her about it. And then she did the same. And pretty soon we talked every day.” His voice softened and his gaze was lost in the story and details we couldn't see. “One thing led to another.”
“But Alex is her daughter.” Jess missed the glint of happiness in his eyes, the true emotion he was feeling. I had never seen this look on my father’s face, except when I caught him staring at Jess or me. It was love and pride and happiness. And it made me feel guilty for hating this turn of events. I wanted my dad to be happy, just not with Alex’s mom.
“And they’re estranged. She has no plans of rekindling her relationship with Alex at this time.” He firmed up his tone again. “She’s a good woman. Kind and hardworking and funny,” he gushed just a touch. “She knows it was a mistake making deals with the queen and king. She’s learned her lesson. And I don't think our family has the right to judge others for poor choices and shady behavior.” His eyes landed on the three of us. It was a fair comment.
Hattie’s eyes sparkled. She approved, which meant I needed to be mature about this as well. I reminded myself I had been the one defending Alex’s mom. And I had met her; she was kind and loving toward me. Though this likely explained why.
“Okay.” I gave Jess a pleading stare.
“Fine, but we already have a wicked stepmother, and we have an evil queen and a hateful stepsister. So all the roles are filled for wicked, evil, and hateful.” Jess wasn't letting up as much as I had. Her nostrils flared just as Dad’s did a moment before. “Which means she is either Glinda the Good Witch and Team Fin, or we end her like we have everyone else who has tried to take us down.”
Dad flinched at the venom spewing from Jess, something I hadn’t been prepared for either.
“We’ll give her a chance. It’s what everyone deserves.” I forced a smile at Dad, trying to counter Jess’ remarks. “When do you go official?”
“The real wedding. You said it would likely be in the summer. I suppose she’ll be with me then, as my date. And no one will say anything about her attending.” He raised his eyebrows, letting us know this was not negotiable.
“Wow.” I didn't know what else to say.
“Miss Finley,” the butler of the estate interrupted us. “There’s a letter for you.” He bowed and held it out on a silver tray.
“A letter?” I got up and went to it, my heart pounding the moment I saw the fancy handwriting. “Thanks.” I took it, noting the seal, a proper red wax one with the Andorran signet pressed into it. “It’s from Aiden.”
“Why would he send a letter?” Jess asked, not getting up from her seat but craning her neck to see.
“He’s so weird.” I was confused, but I cracked the seal, dropping the flakey red wax onto the silver area rug covering the glistening hardwood floor. I unfolded it, enjoying the moment. A letter like this was the physical definition of a secret.
“What’s it say?” Hattie asked.
“My dearest Finley,” I read aloud, smiling at the handwriting I knew so well. “I imagine you thought this would be something fairly impressive. A letter of my
undying devotion perhaps? I regret to inform you, it’s not. Please meet me in the back garden. Always yours, A.” I lifted my gaze to my family, scowling. “Back garden? Is he here?” I turned and stared at the wall behind us as if I could see through it.
“That boy.” Hattie chuckled. “Go on, don't keep the king waiting.” She waved a hand at me.
Before I gave a thought to the cold weather or the snow, I turned and ran, rushing past the halls and rooms until I reached the back door in the conservatory.
Tracy was there, peering in through the glass. He opened the handle for me, bowing slightly as I walked out in my fuzzy slippers. A red carpet stained the snow, running from the door all the way along the pure white ground to the gazebo out back. The gazebo was lit with small twinkle lights and covered in white roses, as if they had grown there overnight in the snow.
The greenery from the roses encased the glowing wooden structure, creating what appeared to be a place winter had not touched. Even the falling snow, dotting the red carpet, sparkled in the fading light and suggested magic had put it all there.
And there at the end of the red path stood Aiden, wearing a stunning suit. He reminded me of the little groom figurines people put on wedding cakes, and for a heartbeat I worried he wanted to marry me in my sweats and fuzzy slippers.
But my worry turned to excitement to see him there, waiting for me. I rushed down the red fabric to where he was, still clutching the letter that was dropping red wax like breadcrumbs behind me.
He walked down the steps to meet me, holding a hand out. I placed my hand in his and tried not to ask questions. I didn't want to ruin whatever surprise he had for me. He led me up the stairs to the center of the large gazebo. We were alone, and yet soft music played in the distance. A piano. The song was familiar but I couldn’t guess it.
The wind blew, lifting my hair and making me shiver, but I was warming up, burning up even. He was so beautiful, pressing his lips together as his eyes danced with a stormy expression. He was afraid maybe.
“I have asked you this question more times than any man has asked any woman, I suspect. And I hope this is the last time.” He sounded like the boy I’d met and not the man he’d become. He was gentle and sweet and a little worried. He dropped to one knee and my heart raced. His eyes flitting to my stomach. “I feel good about my odds this time,” he said with a grin. “But I am not asking because we are having a baby. I’m not asking to secure my rule or ensure my country is satisfied. I’m asking you to be my wife because I love you. I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you for the rest of my life and beyond, with whatever deals I can work out with God in the end.” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a slightly different version of the ring I was wearing.
He took my hand in his and slipped the other off. The placeholder sapphire.
“We’re already engaged but this moment is ours. How I should have asked. Here, I am just a man asking you, the love of my life, to be my wife and my partner in everything. Finley Roze, will you do me the incredible honor of being my wife and marrying me in a private ceremony in September, at our castle in Scotland?”
His words drifted about in my head for an exhale or two before I nodded. “I will.”
Sighing with relief and possibly the first full breath he’d had in the last five minutes, he slid the ring onto my finger and stood, lifting his hands to cup my face and pressing his lips against mine.
I closed my eyes and imagined what this looked like.
The snow swirling around us.
The white roses encasing the gazebo.
The red carpet against the white snow.
The silver lights creating a stark glow.
My fuzzy slippers and Lulus adding that bit of contrast our relationship would likely always be known for. The perfect prince. The handsome king. The royal romance. And the girl from Spokane.
It was an ending worthy of a Hallmark movie Mary loved. Maybe even one of those Christmas ones. It was perfect, perfectly balanced between two worlds. The commoner and the king.
24
If your friends don’t like your SO, it’s pretty simple, you need a new one. Friends are like dogs. They can smell a bad relationship from a mile.
I do
The wedding day
“How do I look?” I asked softly, walking around the partition and letting them see me.
Linna’s expression alone would have answered the question sufficiently, but it was Jess’ that told me what lengths the designer, makeup, and hair teams had gone to. Her phone slipped from her grip, hitting the fluffy rug beneath her.
Neither spoke, lips trembled, eyes watered as brows lifted, and a hint of a smile suggested the tears were ones of joy.
Carter’s entire face lit with pleasure, pride perhaps.
Bea gasped.
Mary lifted a gloved hand to her lips, nearly touching to her lipstick before Dee stopped her.
They were the faces you desperately wanted to see, needed to see, the moment you asked that question on your wedding day.
Particularly when you were coming up on five months pregnant sooner than you wanted to be, and marrying an incredibly public figure. And since the wedding was actually a sham made only for the press, I needed these faces.
For the briefest of breaths, all the things I didn’t want fell away and this felt like a real wedding day. But this would end once I entered the cathedral, and I’d have to remind myself as soon as the baby was born, I’d have my wedding day. A simple day. A real day.
No kings.
No crowns.
No weird ceremony.
No press.
Just a girl and a dress (she hopefully fit into after having said baby) and a guy with the handsomest face ever, his eyes filled with storms and Shakespeare slipping from his lips.
In my head I was seventeen, standing at that huge rock on the side of the lake, staring back at him as he came to me, offering me a ride. Every time I would have taken his hand. Every time I would have gotten in the car.
Thick and thin had varied for us, separated by huge oceans, but we’d made it through them.
And every time I looked back, I realized my life had been leading me to this.
And with him, I was the best version of me.
I was the me I might have been had she not died. Had I grown up with a mother, I might have ended up here regardless, this girl, but not with him. Perhaps, she’d had to die so I would end up with him. And because of him, because of his love, I was the girl I was meant to be. She left me so I could find him, and he helped me to find the me she might have helped me become. A me I loved.
And the faces staring back at me confirmed it. I was loved.
Sparkling eyes dancing with emotion, excitement, and pride. Lips pressed together, fighting emotions. Hearts full.
I’d come into his life in the middle of a storm, and he’d offered me a hand anyway. He saw more than a scar and a drunk and a bunch of lies. And he helped me see more.
“Your boobs look hot in that dress, chica,” Carter interrupted my thoughts, winking then earning a whack across the abs from Linna as Bea nodded in agreement with him. They really were the perfect couple.
“You’re an idiot,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Has anyone seen my aunt?” I asked about my mother’s sister.
“Aunt Cheryl is sitting up front, with Hattie. She made it,” Jess spoke softly. “Mike and Mae made it from Halifax. Steph and Meghan came from Spokane. Dad even tracked down Sophie. She’s still working as a nanny but she’s here also.”
“Aaron and Holly are here too,” Carter added.
“Everyone is seated and Dad’s waiting at the start of the church, in the wings.” Jess pointed at the door. “So any time you’re ready.”
“All right, let’s get this fake wedding going then.” I took my bouquet from Mary who scowled.
“It isn’t a fake wedding,” Mary scolded me.
“It is,” Linna agreed with me. “The real one in Scotland is g
oing to be magic. I’ve already told Riley we’ll be coming to it no matter what his schedule is.” She hugged me tightly. “But this one is just as important.” Her hand lightly brushed my stomach that was just beginning to poke out a tiny bit. My twenty pounds gained thus far had been more boobs than anything. It was awesome except they didn't feel great. Aiden’s eyes lingered on them frequently but the death glare kept him at bay.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day regardless,” Dee said as she kissed my cheek and left. Bea and Carter both hugged me and followed Dee out.
Jess, Mary, Linna, and I took deep breaths as we nodded at one another and walked out of the small office. The sound of the people in the church made my stomach tighten and sweat form on my brow, despite the cold February wind finding its way into the old church.
“It’s one hour.” Linna winked. “You can do anything for one hour.”
We both laughed.
“There you are!” Dad rushed us, hugging the girls then me.
“Showtime!” the annoying assistant who had planned the entire affair said, grabbing the door for Mary to go first. “Your Highness.” She bowed at Mary.
Mary glimpsed back at me, smiling with those all-knowing eyes of hers. She nodded once and walked into the church, causing the music to change and the crowd to quiet.
Jess kissed my cheek then hugged Dad once more, before turning and walking into the church.
“It’ll be our first time not sitting at the back,” Linna gushed a tiny bit. “I love you,” she whispered and hugged me tightly with trembling fingers. “If you panic and need out, I’ll meet ya at the pub, pumpkin spice lattes on me.” Her voice became a sob. She broke from the embrace and turned, hurrying to the door and straightening her back. Taking a breath and a step, she vanished into the church.
“Ready?” Dad asked.
“No. Are you?”
“No.” He scoffed. “You’re my baby. And now you’re getting married and having your own baby, and I don't know what to do. Your mother was the one who knew how to handle this shit,” he winced as he cussed. “Sorry. Stuff.” He took a deep breath. “But luckily, you’re made up of mostly her. And she is looking down on us now, so proud of you.” His eyes glistened as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Just as I am.”
