I was never one for marriage. I’m a free spirit and fun is usually first on my priority list. Therefore, being married for me would be tantamount to Harry Houdini encased in three locked trunks underwater. Well that’s a bad example. Harry Houdini could get out of it. I can’t.
Notice that can’t. It should be couldn’t. But its can’t. Meaning…I’m married. And not because of love, which I always maintained would be the only reason I married. It was arranged. And I agreed to it.
I don’t even know this man! That’s why I’m here, sitting in this gorgeous, luxurious room, thinking.
Okay, to distract myself, let me describe my room. Notice the “my”. It’s not “our” room. And I’m glad of that.
Anyway. The room. It’s a pale peachy, rose color. But a very faint color. I have a balcony, an en suite bathroom, a walk-in closet, a kitchenette, and a window seat. I also have gorgeous furniture, elegant but not overdone lamps and rugs and a fireplace. A plasma screen TV, notebook laptop, cherry wood canopy bed with a sheer white curtain and water filled mattress, and a fish tank.
I also have a door adjoining the adjacent room to mine. My husband’s room is the “adjacent room.” My husband. Amazing.
Okay. It seems like I have some explaining to do. I'm an eighteen-year-old red-headed free spirit and I'm married. To a prince. And I don't know him much less love him.
Well...it just happened. My mom knows the Queen, the Queen liked me, she thought her son would like me, we made friends, she pressured him into it, and here I am sitting on a huge princess-y bed with a door to the prince's room about three feet away from me.
And...that door is opening
"Hey." Daniel comes in and sits on my bed.
"Hey, Danny," I tuck me feet under me to make room. We used to sit like this all the time when we were in high school. We were just barely more than friends though. I know, I know, I said earlier that I didn't know him. I don't know him now, I went to NYU in America for college and when I came back we had both changed. And now we're married.
"So."
I just look at him. We have reached a potential stalemate. But looking at him right now reminds me of what he used to look like. He's not bad looking at all, as prince's go. He's a little too preppy, too Abercrombie and Fitch for me but that's for his parents benefit. When we're out of the range of the press and parents I get to see his real style. Which is a relief.
"Um..."
I laugh. "Did you have a meaning for coming in or...?"
"Well, about the honeymoon."
I freeze. Oh right. Honeymoon. Wedding night. Yikes.
He puts his hand on my foot, somehow, simultaneously reading my mind. "No, I mean...where are we going? Are we even going somewhere?"
"The beach!"
"I knew you would say that."
"Hey, you asked." I get up. This close proximity is bothering me. I know he's my husband, technically, but it still feels weird. When we were boyfriend and girlfriend, his hand on my foot was nothing at all. Everything's on a different, bigger scale now. "You want something to drink?"
"Yeah, we have this nifty new technology called a staff."
"And I have this old, rusty, resourceful thing called a kitchen."
"You're kitchen's not rusty!"
"Well it will be if this new technology outsources unreasonably."
He laughs. "Shut up."
This is better. Mental note: when in doubt, get off the bed.
So we're sitting and chatting and having a great time and then the door opens again. But not Danny's door, mine. And in comes the queen. Now this is a weird sentence to think while sitting in your bedroom, "my door opens and there's the queen." Especially when its your first night with your brand new husband, the prince, even if nothing exciting is happening.
She stands there, studying us for a minute looking concerned but poised. Of course. "I thought this might be what I'd find." She raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. "This is your honeymoon night. Get busy! You'll need to produce royal heirs VERY soon but not so soon that they think it was the reason you married--" Suddenly she bursts out laughing.
Great. I'm married to a prince who's mother is unstable.
"I'm JUST kidding. I didn't mean to start anything...hahahahaha!" We wait stoically while she pulls herself together. "Actually I came in to talk to you, Aurora. Can I see you for a minute...?" And she pulls me into her en suite, and I notice she skillfully avoids her son’s barely tolerant, pointed look.
"Listen. I know a lot has changed for you tonight. You're a princess, your married, you're only twenty-two, but don't worry. Being a royal is easier than it looks. At least that's what I'll let you believe for now. Just relax and take things at YOUR pace and if you have any problems come and take them to me anytime.
"Now I think you're very pretty, smart, funny, and perfect for my son. I sincerely mean that. And I must warn you, that may be the last nice thing I say to you."
And she leaves.
So clearly, I have to discuss this with someone and I go back to my room to call my bff. And there's Daniel, still sitting there.
"Did you hear that?"
"Nope."
I'm not sure if I believe him. "Okay then I'll fill you in. She showered me with compliments, and then told me that’s the last nice thing she'll say to me and left. What does that mean?"
"It means she's still obsessed with Meryl Streep."
"Okay."
"And it means she's telling you she's a highly critical control freak so watch out...but trust me. She can be nice more than just once in a lifetime."
I feel like I'm living in a twisted Cinderella story. I'm the princess who married the prince...and my mother in law is my wicked stepmother's twin. Except I don't have a stepmother and she doesn't have a twin.
That was confusing.
~*~
This is too much to process. It's five thirty in the morning and this is the order of events as best as I can remember: I woke up. Something warm and fuzzy was curled up against my face. I went back to sleep. Then something warm and wet was dabbing at my forehead. Then the door flies open and the flurry of events happen from there, and right now the queen is staring at me, hands on hips. Waiting.
I think she said something. I rub y eyes. "Uh, what?"
"Your lethargic attitude is not appreciated! What have you done with my dog?"
I look down. An adorable caramel and charcoal colored little ball of a poodle is curled up next to me, looking up at me with eyes that look like little pools of maple syrup. Suddenly I'm hungry. And I don't remember what lethargic means.
"I'm sorry?"
"Was that an apology or a question?"
"What did I do?"
She just purses her lips angrily. I wait. And the tirade begins. I'd read about these notorious things in tabloids, now I was the victim of one. Probably the first of many.
"Let's get one thing straight, Aurora, Jonah is MY dog. Not yours. And while we're at it, remember that this palace isn't yours. Its your home for NOW, because you married MY son. So give me my dog back and remember your place!"
That was short. Maybe its because it’s so early. I pick up the dog and start to hand it to her...but its so cute that I hesitate for a minute. She snatches the dog roughly, it jumps away...and falls. Uh-oh.
Jonah is fine, he scampers out the door and I wish I could follow him. I am not fine because I can see she is about to start again.
"That was a nasty, uncaring, unnecessary thing to do--!" The queen stops suddenly and looks to her right. I glance over to see what she's staring at. Oh.
The queen is staring at the fact that her son's entrance interrupted her, and I'm staring at the fact that my husband has a VERY nice body. Or at least upper body. There's Danny, in a pair of long baggy jogging shorts. He looks very un-Abercrombie completely yummy. Due to his Arab ancestry, he has a natural tan even in the dead of winter and his hair is all sleep-tousled and-
"Well? Can I HELP you with anything?" The queen asks, staring and tapping her toe.
"What's going on?"
She opens her mouth, closes it, looks at me, I look down at her manicured feet and...amazing. They turn around and leave. "Oh never mind. Go get dressed, both of you. I don't care if it is your honeymoon, that’s no excuse for sleeping late." She leaves, closing the door crisply.
I look at Danny with my mouth hanging open. "'I don't care if it is your honeymoon that’s no excuse to sleep late?' I don't know where to start! Is she not a morning person or is she like that all day? And is five thirty sleeping late?"
"Hey. She's my mom. But yeah, that's how she is for most of the day. And five thirty is 'late' to her."
"Then when are we going to the beach?" I mutter, flopping back into my pillow and pulling the comforter up.
"Well...I'll ask Mom," he says, turning and leaving.
I stare after him. We have to clear our vacation--our HONEYMOON vacation--with his MOTHER???
Oh, dear.
~*~
I would've slept for at LEAST another two hours. After all I had just had a wedding the day before and I deserved to wake up a t least 7:30. However, about two minutes later, the door opened, the little brown and black ball of fluff charge din, followed by manicured toes.
"Up! I mean it, Aurora. You've had more than enough beauty sleep its time to face the day. I will not allowed you to be slack on your first day, or else you will never fall into the schedule properly. Move! Up!" She sighed, feigning over-exaggerated disappointment. "I was afraid of this."
And the evil woman picked my cell phone off my nightstand, somehow managed to find the ringtone menu AND volume, and blasted the "real" music ringtone in my ear.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear
~*~
So I hop in the shower and don't even have the time to admire the luxury of it all: the deluxe shower, the deliciously scented body wash, the expensive lotion, the lush towels...because I know that woman is standing in my kitchen, making a veggie shake for breakfast. She told me, "No don't ring for the maid, you'll be out of the shower by the time she even arrives."
Yeah right. Nonetheless I zip through the shower, jump into a black tank top, sheer black blouse, skinny jeans, and black Chinese laundry shoes, and down the disgusting "shake" she hands me.
"Your laziness has clearly given you more than enough beauty sleep, but unfortunately for you sleep does not help you lose weight so drink this."
And I do, controlling my foot not to suddenly jump up and hit her backside. These are the kinds of lectures she gives me all through the palace as she gives me a tour and list of all my "duties."
Who knew princesses had duties?
~*~
Oh...but princesses have lots of duties. Anne Hathaway thought she had it hard...Cinderella thought she had problems...I would rather be sweeping fireplaces and making social blunders at fancy balls, then do some of this stuff.
I have to meet with the king of Brushan today! I've ALWAYS hated him and he's visiting for ME! Well because of my marriage to Danny, but Danny's always been here so its for me. Technically. So I have to make small talk conversation, sound gracious and intelligent, and I'm only functioning of five hours of sleep!
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
And what’s up with all these oh dears? The queen is rubbing off on me! Ew. Maybe I should go take a "real" shower.
"Well, this concludes our tour of the palace...what do you think?" She turns to me expectantly.
"It's stunning." And it's not the only thing.
"Well. Now we should go wake Danny. Go ask the kitchen for his favorite breakfast. Something he came up with, sausage wrapped in a pancake and tied with a piece of bacon."
This is unbelievable. He gets to sleep in AND eat real food. And I'M the guest. Oh sure, to most people this would be my home but she made it very clear that I'm barely welcome and only because I married her son. And SHE arranged the marriage. Of course the king technically did it, but we all know who's behind everything he does. He's not weak, he's just a sweet pushover, from what I can tell. At least he lets himself be pushed over--on the small things.
Luckily the maid brings Danny his "breakfast special" and I don’t have to deliver--and salivate over--it. I go sit on my bed to sulk and contemplate sleeping or sneaking into the kitchen for real food.
I've just crawled into bed when the door swings open. And its Danny...bearing food.
"Hey, sleepyhead,” He says, rather affectionately, I think. Maybe its just my berated, sleep-deprived self. “Peace offering?"
I grab a pancake. "For what?"
"For my mom."
I laugh. "I won’t judge you for yours, you don't judge me for mine."
Danny rolls his eyes. "I forgot. I have a mother in law too."
"Right. Princes don't get to get out of everything."
"Okay. Give me my food back now."
"Ha! Too late."
We sit and have a fun talk and even do a little flirting, like old days. I keep watching the door, waiting for the queen to burst in, take my food, smack my hand, and usher Danny back into his room. He notices.
"Relax. She's not the wicked witch of the East."
I ignore that and tell him about this funny bumper sticker I saw that said, "I just haven't been the same since that house fell on my sister." and we laugh about that. Then he has to go and I keep sitting there, wondering what I'm supposed to do.
I don't have to wait for long. The queen quickly shows me that being a princess is not a title or something you’re born into...its a career. And one you don't get a salary for, even though I did come into some major money. I remind myself to go have an eBay spree when I have a spare moment...maybe midnight.
Cinderella would be so ashamed. Instead of slipper and princes and pumpkins at midnight, all I have is a laptop and a credit card. Oh, how far we have come.
~*~
Finally, I get to meet the king. I saw him briefly at the wedding but he was busy being a public figure so except for a nice hug and a "Congratulations" I hadn't met him.
All four of us, Danny, the king, the queen, and me, meet in the throne room. It's not actually a throne room, there's no throne or receiving line, its basically just a very fancy den. Everything is in rich tones of brown and red, it reminds me of the holiday season.
I find out that the king is as warm as the queen is prickly. And he seems genuine. I was beginning to wonder where Danny got his easygoing personality from.
The king, John--"but please call me Jack"--a couple inches taller than his wife, which puts him ad about 5' 10. He has a rather nondescript face. Normal features, a trendy but conservative haircut, and a plain style of dress--khakis and a sweater. He’s handsome in a middle-aged, understated sort of way.
When he says, "Good morning, Rory," I know I like him. I've always hated my full name. Too princess-y. Ironic, I know.
"Obviously, you've met Violet, or you wouldn't be up at this unheard of hour on a Sunday morning. Now I've heard that you're a Christian. We're not too devout around here. Danny and I are believers but we--"
"Keep it to yourselves," the queen snapped with a sour look that reminded me strongly of Emily Gilmore.
So basically the queen is not saved and wants them to keep their salvation under wraps for her sake. I'm quickly learning that anything she dislikes is kept out of her sight and discreetly so she's not reminded that everyone is hiding things from her.
I smile. "Yes, I am. Do you go to church, or is it okay if I do?"
"Alright, dear, not okay. Okay is slang," the queen corrected, perpetuating the whole Emily Gilmore thing.
"I'm sorry." I look at the king, waiting for his answer and trying not to let my hackles raise. The woman is driving me crazy and the sun hasn’t even risen yet.
"We have a chapel service here that most of the dignitaries and staff attend, but Daniel and I go to another church."
And why do they all talk like English majors?
"Oh. Okay. I mean alright. May I go?"
"Of course! And if its not your style you can attend a different church but you may need to take a bodyguard."
Great. I had forgotten about those.
"Your old church was really charismatic, right?" Danny asks, reminding me that he's actually with us.
"Right."
"Well ours has an old-people's service and a charismatic service, we go to the old-people's." He nodded at his dad who half-smiled.
"Thank you, Daniel." he says, wryly.
"Alright, alright, enough about church. We have hours to worry about that. First lets discuss, what’s to be done about the honeymoon? When will you go, where will you go, who will you take?"
I'm a little startled to feel Danny take my hand. "Well...Rory and I haven't decided yet. We'll be sure to let you know our plans in advance. I gotta go get ready for church. Rory? We leave at about seven thirty.”
I am having a REALLY hard time suppressing my smile here and I think the king is too.
"And this is the last I want to hear on the topic," the queen informs us, then looks at me disapprovingly, "but you cannot appear at church dressed like that. No matter how 'charismatic' it is, whatever that means," she said, waving her hand disdainfully. "Go change now please and then I'd like to introduce you to the kitchen and cleaning staff I'd like you to oversee them. You two are free to go. Well, Aurora? Hurry!"
I'm starting to have overwhelming compassion for Danny having to grow up with this woman, as partial to him as she is. And I can't imagine WHY Jack married her. Oh right, arranged. Poor thing.
~*~
"Mama!"
I had slipped into a cute but simple black spaghetti-strapped dress, kept the sheer, beaded laundry shoes and met the queen in the kitchen. She heard the cute little voice call, "Mama!" and her face lit up and she turned and hugged an adorable black-haired, violet-eyed little girl.
I put two-and-two together...the queen had black hair and violet eyes...and she repsonded to "mama" from someone besides Danny--the queen had a secret love child!
"Aurora, I'd like you to meet my niece, Elisia. And this is her mother, Carey."
The woman looks half-Hispanic, half-European and she has a fragile beauty but a strong demeanor. I can tell I'm going to like her. "Hey. I'm Rory, nice to meet you."
The queen sniffs and waves her hand almost contemptuously. "She knows who you are and I'd prefer if the staff referred to you as Princess or at least Aurora." She raises her eyebrows, expecting me to correct myself but I pretend not to get it. I know what my name is and I've been introducing myself since elementary school.
"Nice to meet you, too, Princess," Carey says, smiling knowingly.
"What did we discuss? 'Honored to meet you,'" the queen said.
"Is this your sister?" I can't help but ask. I can't imagine why she would treat her sister like that or why her sister would put upu with it. And it couldn't be her family, due to the family resemblance.
"Not really," the queen said quickly, and I immediately knew there was a juicy story behind this.
"Half sisters," Carey supplies, and gets a sharp look which she ignores to the queen's annoyance.
Ooooh. Even juicier. I knew I'd like Carey. I can probably get all the palace information from her, but of course that means she wouldn't be a good confidante. However, I immediately feel like I can trust her which is a new feeling. I know nothing about her, but I'm sure she’ll be a good friend.
She's studying me too. I'm feeling hopeful until the queen says, "Come join me in my office so we can go over your honeymoon plans. And I'll introduce you to your organizer, Karen."
Oh, great. I wish Danny was here to put her in her place again but then again, if he was here I'm sure she wouldn't have brought it up. Apparently, what Danny says, goes. At least until she can find a way to do what she wants behind his back.
"Um...actually," I wrack my brains for a good comeback or at least excuse. "Actually...I--"
"I don't have time your sputtering if you have something to say, say it, or please hush. In my office, two minutes. Go do whatever you have to do."
"No it's not that. Actually I'm already scheduled to discuss honeymoon plans with Danny tonight," I lie quickly, trying not to wince.
She eyes me dubiously. "You haven't even met your organizer yet."
"I'm capable of making a few plans myself." It just pops out and now I DO wince, ready for a harsh rebuff.
The queen look startled and then almost smiles. "Finally. Some spunk. I was beginning to think you didn't have it and I should just lay off."
Yes. Do lay off, I think, but just smile and say, "Ooooh, yes. My parents didn't warn you?"
Now she does smile. I hope this means she'll be off my back now.
~*~
There’s no harm in hoping. But I was very, very wrong. She did not get off my back. She did start being a little nicer but she still barbed and jabbed. Finally, after meeting every one of the cleaning and kitchen staff members on duty, and going in her office for thirty minutes of "suggestions" about my honeymoon. Then she faxed a bunch of papers and more "suggestions" to my room. Notice, NOT to Danny's. She sent me to my room (and I thought I'd grown out of that) to read over the papers and finish getting ready for church.
I spent about ten minutes lounging on my fabulous bed and skimming over her papers. Some stuff was interesting and I would show to Danny...like Jamaica has this cool waterslide with a shark tank at the bottom. And there were some fun-looking cruises around the Bahamas that didn't look like they'd be full of old women knitting and their husbands playing golf together. Not that I have anything against knitting and golf, but we can save that for our seventy-fifth anniversary, I figure. And I'm not sure I'll ever get into it. I'll probably be zipping down waterslides screeching in an old, warbly voice at ninety-six years old.
While I'm thinking this, Danny comes in. "You ready?"
I jump. "Um...yeah. I just have to find my shoulderbag."
While he waits he sits down on my bed and starts looking at the papers. "What's this?"
I can't help but smile at how comfortable he looks on my princess-y canopy bed as I dab on some Chapstick. "Um...its from your mom, just some stuff." I consider telling him that she's still pushing the honeymoon thing but then decide not to, considering how he's warned me before about his mom. Just because she bothers me sometimes doesn't mean I have to share it with him every time. I wouldn't want anyone doing that to me with my mom, as annoying as she can be.
"From my mom...for what? Honeymoon suite?! Are you two...planning something?" he asks. As if I would cook up a honeymoon scheme for us...behind his back…WITH HIS MOTHER! In what world?
I quickly recap my Chapstick and leave my bathroom. "What?! No. She just gave me those for--" Then I see he's grinning. "You!"
"Come here a minute."
I come sit next to him. "What?"
"What do you think of this?" And he points to the cruise that goes to Jamaica and tours the Bahamas, featuring a picture of the shark-y waterslide. "Hey this looks fun!" And he gets this really cute half smile. "What do you think?"
I try not to smile to big but can't help it. "Yeah...I was thinking that too."
"We'll just have to conveniently forget that my mom practically planned this for us."
"Again, I was thinking that too."
He looks at me and smiles. "You know? I'm happy about this. I always hated the thought of an arranged marriage but my mom can make some good decisions."
Impossibly, my smile gets bigger. "Well she's the queen right?"
If we were in a movie we'd be kissing by now but we're not so instead we pull out my laptop and sign up on the web and leave our address for them to mail us a catalog/brochure thingy.
And I realize, I'm happy with her decisions too.
~*~
The idea of an old-people's church didn't exactly appeal to me but I think I like this place. I like the atmosphere and I like the people. The music is on the slow side but the audience is diverse and the people are really worshipping. The majority of them seem open, genuine, and worshipful. This is almost better than my old church. They worshipped there and they were nice but they weren’t always open or genuine.
"I really wish your mom would come," I say suddenly. "She would like this I think. It's her kind of people and how could she not like this?"
"Me too," Danny said and lightly bumped his dad's arm. "That's what I've been telling him."
Jack shook his head. "No, she's not ready yet she'd just be focusing on the faults."
"What faults?" we both ask.
He shrugged. "Every church has faults and she'll find them."
I look at Danny. I can believe that and his look says the same thing.
The worship is low-key but powerful and the sermon is calm, soft, and insightful. This place is relaxing, like watching the ocean, and peaceful. I feel like I immediately fit in here.
"We usually go to brunch after church somewhere," Jack told me after the service. "Care to join us?"
"Um..." I look between them trying to judge if this is their private ritual. "Is this like a...father/son thing?"
"Nope," Danny says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "That's a yes, let's go."
Jack smiles at us like a grandfather might smile at his grandchildren being cute together. I feel a little awkward and conspicuous but mostly I feel good. This is not so bad. I have Danny and Jack and Carey and at least the queen is trying to be a little more civil...at times.
~*~
I have to strongly resist the temptation to shovel my bacon and spinach omelet with hollandaise sauce and breakfast potatoes into my mouth. A Julie Andrews-like version of the queen's voice pops into my head. "A princess takes small, even bites and under no circumstances eats more than half of her plate."
Oh great. She's never even SAID that to me. Now her voice is going to being my head saying things of her own accord. Wonderful.
"So what did you think?" Jack asked and Danny looked over expectantly.
"I loved it," I said, setting down my fork and getting enthusiastic. "I love the atmosphere and the people were so nice, and the worship was real, and the sermon was strong, and everything was so peaceful but challenging."
Jack and Danny are both watching me with amused expressions and I realize I'm smiling happily and gesturing with my hands and I'm feeling a little stupid.
"It's okay, we like it too," Jack says, smiling at me and going back to eating. So do I, despite Julie/Violet.
"Do they have small group Bible studies or cell groups?" I ask.
"Mmm-hmm." Danny replies, mouth full. "For different age groups. They have some for youth, young people, middle aged people, and seasoned people." He tossed his dad a look. "Ow!"
Jack looks over at me innocently and I can't help but laugh. My dad used to kick me under the table too and I would yell out and my mom would get mad at me but my dad would find a way to pacify her without telling on himself and he would wink and I wouldn't mind anymore.
I really miss my family. Especially my sister. And my dad. And I need to talk to my mom, we had a little...confrontation...at the wedding. She's probably sorry but she'd never come to me to talk about it.
"You know..." Jack says in a contemplative voice that makes Danny and I look up slightly warily. "...they have a married young couple's cell group."
It took a minute to sink in. I'm married!
Jack and Danny both start laughing. Oops.
"That was out loud?" And of course, questions like this always make it worse.
Finally the laughter dies down and we go back to eating. Then Danny looks up suddenly and announces in a startled falsetto, "I'm married!" And I have to laugh too. If I HAVE to be married, at least he has a sense of humor.
~*~
Surprisingly, when we get home the queen is gone. I'm the only surprised one.
"Sunday is shopping day for Violet," Jack told me.
"Everyday is shopping day for Violet," Danny says. "On Sunday she actually get s off the computer and goes...with her bodyguards and friends on the staff."
I can't help but ask, "She has friends on the staff?"
"Yes. She has friends on the staff. It's a one-sided relationship."
Jack gives his son a look. "Come on..."
"What? You know it! Would YOU be friends with her if you were part of the staff?"
I tap Danny's little finger with mine pointedly. *Shut up* He gets the point.
Jack smiles at me and shakes his head at Danny, but in a amused way. "So what are your plans for today?" he asks, glancing at his watch.
I don't know what to say. I didn't realize I had free time. "Um...."
"I coach the soccer team at six," Danny says, surprising me. I didn't know he was a soccer coach. He looks at me. "You?"
"Um...."
"What? Still processing the concept of marriage?" Jack teases and I grin. And I realize he doesn't always talk like an English major, only around Violet and she's training me to do the same thing. It happens to the best of us.
"No, I just don't have any plans," I smile.
"Well make some. There's lots to do here," Jack says, starting to go.
"Right. I guess I'll check on the kitchen and cleaning crew."
Danny frowns. Jack stops. "What?"
"I'm supposed to look after them...or oversee them I guess. I'll just go make sure they don't need help with anything."
"You're kidding," Danny says, tilting his head. (So cute!)
Jack studies me for a moment. "She's not. Listen, Rory, its not your job to run things. Especially not on your second day here. Just relax. Have some fun. Do something."
I'm trying to think. What can I do? I don't have a car and I don't want to ride around in a limo or even ask to. My motorcycle and Audi are still at my house and I've seen the whole palace. There's nothing fun to do. It sure looks a lot bigger form the outside which is not usually the case with buildings.
"What?" Danny asks, still watching me.
"Nothing."
Jack smiles and shakes his head at this. "Oh great. One of THOSE conversations. I'll see you guys later. Have a good day." It's a funny thought that I might not see him for the rest of the day and we're both in the same house.
"What?" He repeats. We've reached our rooms. He opens his and motions me in.
Oooooo, its nice in here. Very masculine. Ignoring his question, I walk around, checking out his place. Expensive looking, luxurious bed. A technical, brand new looking kitchen with all stainless steel appliances and a single slim vase with a very real-looking dandelion it on the slate grey marble countertop. He has a sharp black leather sofa in front of a huge silver TV. I like it.
"Me too."
I have GOT to stop thinking out loud.
"Have a seat. Let's talk we haven't had a real, one-on-one conversation since the wedding."
I look at him. "We've had two!"
He shrugs. "See? Pathetic. You can count the conversations we've had on one hand. Sit."
So I do. The leather is soft and slick and I would get one for my room if it would fit in and not look like copy-catting. Which I haven't worried about since the third grade. I only revert to elementary school when I'm nervous. And why am I nervous?
"So...?"
"You looked a little lost when Dad asked about your plans. What's that about?" he inquires, stretching his arms out on the back of the coach, one right against my shoulders.
"I'm still figuring out this whole palace thing."
"Meaning?"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my time or how I can sped my free time. How do I go places? When can I get my bike and my car? Am I allowed to just leave when I feel like it? If not, when can I? And how many people do I have to inform?"
Danny laughs. "You've been giving this a lot of thought?"
"Not really. I've been preoccupied but when your dad asked, it got me thinking."
"You don't HAVE to inform anyone, you're a grown adult but if you want to survive Mom's wrath you should tell one of us or someone on the staff. Like your organizer or Carey or Derek."
I don't even bother asking who Derek is. I'll find out soon enough. "And how does the car thing work? Is it a limo? Can I use it? Can I drive mine…and what about bodyguards?"
Danny suddenly sits up and leans forward a little giving me a puzzled look. "No one's told you all this yet?"
"No but I haven't been here long."
"Have you met Sara?"
"No...."
"She's your personal servant. That's un-PC, but who cares its just us. She's supposed to have explained this all to you. She's supposed to stick with you, get you what you want or tell someone else to, and...well just take care of everything. She's like a lady-in-waiting. Derek is mine." He pauses and gives me that look again. "You really haven't met her yet?"
"No. What's she look like? I might have not known who she is."
"Short, green eyes, blond hair."
"Oh yeah is it really wispy and curly?"
He shrugs. "I guess."
"Yeah I ran into her in my bathroom yesterday."
He laughs and gives me that incredulous look again. "And you didn't find that...weird?"
I laugh too. "Remember my brother, Matt? We shared a bathroom. I was forever running into strange girls in our bathroom."
"Oh, man, yeah. I remember him." He starts laughing again.
Suddenly I feel really good. It's a feeling I usually get when I'm with my family and its bee a good day and I'm just feeling really content. This whole marriage thing is new to me but I'm happy where I am and I think this will work.
"What are you thinking about?"
I look at him and debate whether to dodge or tell the truth. "Just...you know..."
"Us?"
I have to smile. "Oh, man, we're like an old couple already. We sound like an eHarmony ad. 'We're even finishing each others sentences!'"
"Those things are so pathetic. I eHarmony is a cool idea but the commercials are just stupid. I heard this one woman going, 'I adore him, he's perfect for me.' And the husband just said, 'She's perfect for me.' And the way he said it you could just hear him thinking, 'We both adore me. I never thought it would happen.'"
And we sit for about an hour just laughing and chatting. Finally, he glances at his watch. "Oh, hey! Chrisserrian Idol's on."
"Oh, okay. Thanks for your help. I'll go try to find Sara."
He puts his hand on my knee--and it feels very nice there--and I sit back down fully. "I'll ask Derek to find her later. Do you like this show?"
"Yeah its funny. Peter's brutal but hilarious."
"I agree." And he turns the TV on, keeping his hand where it is.
And, again, if we were in a movie the scene would be different. We'd be making out by now and exchanging pieces of popcorn but we're sitting calmly and maturely, but cozily until the show is over. When the show is over he clicks the TV off and turns to me.
"So. What are you doing after this?"
"Tracking Sara down I guess and then looking in on cooking and cleaning."
He raises his eyebrows. "And then?"
What else is there to do? "Probably just vegging out. Maybe get on the phone or IM."
"You're not going anywhere or doing anything fun?" he persists.
Okay, now he’s getting on my nerves. I have more than explained to him that I have no transportation, have been assigned chores, and have nothing else to do. "Like what?"
He's barely ruffled by my tone. "There's lots to do. Wait. Have you even had a tour of the palace yet?"
"Yeah, your mom--"
"No a REAL tour, not the industrial tour."
And I found out I have my own "R & R" room with another big TV, another laptop, a hammock, a mini courtyard, a Jacuzzi whirlpool, a small library, and a little spa with all kinds of ingredients for mani's, pedi's, facials, and more. Free time is no longer an issue anymore!
There's also a Recreation Room with an Olympic sized pool, board games, Foosballs, pool, an Arcade, and a bar with a lot of fun drinks and foods, including virgin drinks.
And then there's a horse pasture, an indoor and outdoor volleyball court, and a dance and recording studio. I have no idea why a palace needs a dance/recording studio but I'm glad they do.
"So. What do you think?"
"Hold on. I'm having an Anne Hathaway moment."
Danny rolls his eyes. "You're an Anne fan? Your kidding. And my mother's a Meryl Streep wannabe. I should've seen this coming."
"No silly, not Devil Wears Prada, Princess Diaries. You know, 'I have my own mall.' 'This is my ROOM?!'"
He shakes is head. "I have NO idea what you're talking about."
"Of course not," I pat his arm patronizingly. "You're just a man, don't worry your pretty little ahead."
He pretends to huff. "You're WELCOME. I'll be GOING now."
I laugh. He sounds like a two year old. "No, really, thanks."
"You're welcome. Really," he says, putting on a melodramatic, heartfelt face and bending down on my eye level. He's a lot of fun but this is getting a little predictable.
"But really, I gotta go. Soccer team. Thanks for your company!"
And I know its a genuine compliment but that makes me feel bad. I was just "company"? Is that what most men say to their wives when they've just spent quality time together? Of course that wasn't exactly quality to a man's perspective, I guess, there was no kissing or anything. But still. Then again, this isn't most marriages.
He stops walking away and turns back. "Hey. You wanna come?"
That catches me off guard a little. "Um...sure, why not?" My little rooms of paradise can wait. And suddenly, I don't feel so bad about the company statement. Well I do feel bad, but about my reaction, not what he said.
His smile is definitely worth the postponement of my palace explorations. I feel like dancing around and singing, "I feel special! Oh so special! I feel special, and wecial, and wise!" Not that that makes any sense, but its the thought that counts.
~*~
I love his little soccer guys. Every single one of them is adorable and bursting with personality. They look to be about anywhere from eight to ten.
One little guy stands out. He's tall and slim with glasses and he even though he's laughing with his friends, he looks a little lost and out of place and in need of a hug. And I want to give it to him. He looks up all of a sudden and gives me this huge, bright smile and I'm hooked.
Mostly I just sit on the bench--how sad, I'm benched and not even on the team--and watch the team. They have their own little dynamic and they're so fun to watch. It's they're all brothers and Danny is the playful older brother watching and leading them. That sounded a little corny but that's how it is.
Mostly I watch the boy with the bright smile and glasses. Okay, and Danny.
After a lot of warm-ups, some which I join in on, the start to scrimmage. During the "game" I notice one bough who has thick honey blond hair and a slightly built body is being a little bit of a bully on the field. He's playing dirty, stepping on toes and kicking dirt, against his own teammates! I glance over at Danny and he's watching the kid with a slight frown. I almost speak up when he kicks the smiley, bespectacled guy in the shins, not even trying to be discreet about it.
"Hey, Brian!" Danny calls. "C'mere a minute, will you?"
Brian jogs over looking irritated, but also like he's posing for a bunch of photographers from Sports Illustrated. I can tell he's going to be a player when he grows up.
"What?" Brian demands, glaring already.
Danny ignores this for the most part. "What was that about?"
"What?" Brian repeats, still glowering.
"Shoving Bryce, stomping on Tommy's foot...? Is that good sportsmanship?"
"Good sportsmanship doesn't win a game!" Brian asserted angrily.
And here I'm biting my tongue, but I'm glad I do because Danny's answer is better than mine would have been, "No, it doesn't. Neither does bad sportsmanship. But good sportsmanship makes the game worth it."
"Whatever," Brian shrugs and turns his head away scowling at me momentarily. I stare back, trying not to glare myself.
Danny shoots me an amused look and goes back to watch the game. "You can cool off on the bench for a minute, Brian."
He plops down next to me. I expect a huge show of anger but actually he's looking pathetic and huggable. I scoot down the bench a little. "What's up?"
Brian just shrugs and I recognize the look on his face. It's full of emotions I felt as a kid. Just frustrated and upset and bursting with emotion but not actually letting it out. Or not well enough.
"Is something wrong?"
He nods.
"Wanna talk?"
He shrugs so I slide my arm around his shoulder and wait. We sit like this for about ten minutes. At one point Danny frowns at me questioningly as if to ask, "Why are you comforting him when he's in trouble?" And I shoot him a look that I hope says "Long story, later."
"I hate my mom," Brian says suddenly and with the bitter truthfulness of a mature little kid.
That startles me but I recognize that emotion too. "Why?"
He looked up at me a little startled himself. "You don't think that's bad?"
I just shrug. "It happens to the best of us, I think." I don't bother explaining that most of us don't actually hate our moms but are just very angry. It's really hard to hate a mom, its going against genetic code. But some circumstances make way for it.
"I don't hate my dad. But she won’t let me see him. I have a new dad," he says, sniffing and wiping his nose angrily.
I want to pull him onto my lap and hold him tightly but that might be going overboard so I stay where I am. "And you never see your dad?"
"No."
"When was the last time?" I hope I'm not prying.
"I don't know. A long time. Before two Christmases ago."
Poor thing. "Do you like you're stepdad?"
"No." That one little word is full of so much anger and frustration and pain that I almost want to tear up, myself.
"I'm sorry."
We sit for another five minutes or so and he says, "Coach Danny's okay though." And he gives me a big smile.
"Yeah. He is," I say, returning the smile.
Danny comes over then. "What are you two grinning about?"
"Am I back in the game?" Brian asks, forgetting our previous conversation quickly.
"Sure, Bri. Go apologize to Bryce and Tommy first."
Brian nods, frowning a little and then smiles at me again, "Thanks," and runs off. It's funny how I see him. It flashes back and forth from a little bratty kid, to an upset little kid with deep, old emotions.
Danny sits down next to me smelling very...ripe. "What was that about?" he asks, wiping his face with his arm.
"Did you know his mom's remarried?"
"Yeah she mentioned something about it once, why?" I have his full attention now. He knows my parents went through an ugly divorce when I was in high school. That's actually when we became close. Then after an argument I left to NYC and when I got back I went to apologize and we had both changed. And the queen noticed.
"Well...I don't know. He's having a hard time."
Instead of responding to Brian's news, Danny just gives me a look that’s equivalent to a big hug. And I appreciate it.
Especially due to the fact that he's all sweaty. He gets up and goes back to the game and I sit there in the sunshine, thinking. About Brian's life, compared to my childhood and life in general. And my marriage.
It's a lot to take in at once.
On the way home, Danny and I talked more about Brian. I could tell he was about to bring up my own situation and because I still had unfinished business with my mom, I didn't want to talk or even think about that.
"Who was that other little boy? The tall skinny one with the glasses?"
"Oh, his name is Danny too." Figures. "We call him Junior though, or Jay."
I can't help but laugh at that one. God has a sense of humor.
I'm falling in love with all the Danny's in my life.
Wow. Wait.
I don't know. I' don't think I'm falling in love with Danny. But definitely in like. And that's a good feeling And it feels right with him since I've always liked him.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Just life. And Danny. And Brian." I don't let on that I'm thinking about BOTH Danny's.
When we get home, we finally go our separate ways. "See you at dinner," Danny says.
I'm tempted to ask him where I can find Derek so I can ask him where I'd find Sara. I decide to find her myself. But I don't know how. I sit in my room and think feeling wimpy and helpless. Then, "Duh!" I go to the kitchen to find Carey.
"Hey, Elisia," I say, scooping the cutie up. "Where's your mommy, cutie-pie?"
"In here," I let her down and she scampered through a swinging door into this huge, obviously well-used but meticulous and expensive kitchen.
"Hey, Carey!"
"Hello, Princess Aurora," she says dropping a curtsy and a grin.
I whack her arm. "Cut it out. It's Rory and if you curtsy to me, I'll do it back at you!"
"Good. As it should be," she says, making us both laugh, and Elisia joins in. I love it how kids can not understand a joke but still enjoy the laughter just as much. So needless to say I pick her up again. She puts her little arms around my neck and settles on my hip just as Carey drops a pile of diced onions into a hot frying pan. All my senses are telling me I like it here. The smell of sautéing onions, the little body clinging to me, the sound of laughter and sizzling onions, the taste of a little bit of cheese I snatch...and I forgot my fifth sense.
"So what can I help you with," she asks, wiping her hands on her apron and pulling a tray of miniature, skillfully twisted and shaped croissants out of the oven.
I shift Elisia to my other hip as she reaches to touch the pan and grab a croissant. "Do you know a Sara? May I?" I add, indicating a croissant.
She grins and nods taking one for herself and one for me. I tear off a piece and feed it to Elisia.
"Oooooo, you two will be close friends now," Carey predicts, popping a piece in her own mouth. "Sara who?"
"Not sure yet. Petite, blond, green-eyed."
"Mmm, yes," Carey says and I can tell she doesn't like her. "What do you need from her?"
"Well I've been told she's my personal...um..."
"Servant?" Carey asks, eyes twinkling.
I feign a gasp. "SO un-PC! And from a staff member herself! Do it again and I'll report you!"
Carey grins. "I like your sense of humor, girl, I'm glad you're here."
"Same," I say. "So. Sara?"
"Right. I overheard her telling Peter she was going horseback riding. You'll find her in the stables flirting with George. Awful name, but very cute guy. Too young for me, of course." So I’m guessing she’s a single mom.
I can't help laughing. "You're crazy."
"But a lot of fun."
"Agreed."
"You can go to the stables or you can ask Laila she knows everything about everyone."
"Who?"
"Laila," she points to a pretty caramel-skinned woman who looks to be in her early twenties with long black hair. "She's the head of the confections. Really into the gossip."
"Moreso than you," I tease, snatching another croissant and staying out of arms reach.
"Out. Go find Sara. You can eat later."
"What? I'm just watching your daughter for you." I say, smiling innocently.
"My DAUGHTER is fine," she says pointedly, taking her from me and pretending to be mad.
"Bye, Sleeping Beauty!" Elisia calls. I stare at her openmouthed and then look at Carey slowly, "And I wonder where she got THAT from? Listen. If you really love Leesy, and want her to live a good long life you'll get that out of her vocabulary very soon."
"Yes," Carey winked. "I read in your biography that you hated the reference to your name. I think its convenient."
"Shut up!"
~*~
I find Sara in the stables but she's a little *busy* so I decide to meet her later and pretend it never happened. And I have to say I'm a little ticked. Not that making out is a crime or anything, but I got here YESTERDAY and she's supposed to be my personal servant and I have to track HER down. This is not a princess-y, stuck up thing. It's a normal expectation in any business deal.
And...maybe I'm a little jealous of the girl. I miss the days when my love life was carefree and action-packed. Not to say that I don't like this but...it's quite an adjustment
So what else is there to d but go back to my room, sit on my bed, and think? Eventually, I get tired of that...and suspicious of the direction its going...so I get up and power up my laptop.
Turns out I have TONS of email so I spend the next hour or so emailing all my friends about everything that’s been going on, and telling them to call and visit and that we'll do something soon. I logon to a few forums, and get to IM some friends. Then there's a knock on the door.
I swivel my chair slightly, "Come in," and quickly reply to an IM before looking up. I fake a happy intake of breath. "Danny! And before dinner! What an honor! Sit, sit."
He smiles a little at this weak attempt at humor. "I didn't come to visit, crazy, but just to let you know that Mom's back."
"Thanks," I say, trying to keep my face from a disgusted grimace or something. Okay maybe that's a little exaggerated but still. I liked my free time. Truly free time. With her in the palace, I’m sorry to say, I have no free time. She’s either dictating something in person, or in my head.
Danny grins, apparently reading my mind. "Always best to know which way the tornado's coming, right?
"Exactly. Auntie Em, Auntie Em!" I mimic, quickly typing another reply. "By the way, can I borrow Derek for a quick second?"
He smiles again and tilts his head. Be still my heart! Again, over exaggeration, but still. I can't help but notice how VERY good-looking he is.
"Getting secure in the role of a princess already, huh? Demanding my valet?"
I laugh. Okay, snort. "Be quiet! No, I just wanted to see if he could find Sara for me. Actually, I found her but not at the best time. I'm being shy and want to send someone else to find her just to save some awkwardness."
I notice this weird look on his face and he sits down. "Not at the best time?"
"Well...yeah." And now I've managed to land us in a VERY awkward place.
"Meaning?"
I wave my hand. "You know. She likes this guy in the stables and they were...you know."
I expect him to smirk or something and understand what I'm implying. He does seem to get it but he gets another weird look on his face and looks down at his hands. Then he shrugs a little and looks up at me, clearly changing his face to look normal.
I tilt my head. "Are you okay? You look a little...sad. Or something"
So then he has to explain and now we're in an even MORE awkward place.
He leans forward and rubs the heels of his hands together, looking a little uneasy. "Ah...see...Sara and I know each other."
I nod, having pretty much caught on by now but I let him continue.
“Actually, for a quite a while. Two years I think. While you--while your were in--New York.” He looks up at me expectantly.
I just keep looking at him trying to keep my expression open but neutral. When he doesn’t ay anything else I shrug. “Okay…I mean. That’s...fine.” I laugh a little. “Not that if it wasn’t fine it would you would need my permission or anything. I didn’t expect to be the only person in you’re life, I mean--Oh. Are you…do you guys…are you still…?”
Again, I expect amusement at my clumsy explaining but I don’t get it. But he’s being serious and rather intense. “No! Not anymore. It was actually…the first two years…when you had left.”
“Okay.” I don’t know why I feel bad and guilty and a little sad about this but I do. I hope it doesn’t show.
“What about you?” he asks, surprising me.
“Oh! Well…um. There was a guy but, it wasn’t a big thing. You were…you know. Still my first. And only.”
He looks regretful and I can tell its not only because we didn’t wait and save ourselves. He and Sara did it. And now I not only feel guilty but now have a bad feeling. Like…insecurity or something. And I hate that.
I rub my palms together trying not to get nervous energy. “I…almost wish I didn’t know. It’ll be weird relating to her, you know. Especially if she’s still, you know. I don’t want her to feel like I intrude and then she’s my personal…servant.”
He gets another odd look. “No. I’m sure she’s over it. Don’t worry about her. But if you feel uncomfortable there’s plenty of other dedicated people on the staff who would love to be your valet.”
He sits up and rubs his hands on his pants and I can tell he’s getting ready to leave.
I try to smile and look normal. “Okay. Well…thanks.”
He nods, and I can tell he’s trying to look normal too. The truth is this is a weird circumstance. Very weird.
I stand up and let him out and then cross over to my bed and curl in in a tight ball to think. I hate this weird, bad, clinging but vague feeling. Well not so vague actually. I reach for the phone but then realize I don’t know how soundproof these walls are. I want to get in a car and just drive…through pretty scenery by myself enjoying the quiet and speed along a highway with the rest of humanity, blasting my music. I want to talk to my best friend over Starbucks. I want to visit my sister at her apartment. Or talk to my dad.
But Sara--and DARN her--is not here. So I can’t do anything and don’t really want to ask anyone. So I settle for pulling my laptop out and emailing my dad. I feel a tiny bit better but a whole lot emptier when I’m done.
Email is awesome at times but now it feels impersonal and insufficient. I need interaction with someone I know and knows me. I need to get out of her and think and get this in perspective because I can feel myself blowing it way out of proportion.
I hate feeling stuck! And jealous and upset. I’m officially ready to leave. And put this all behind me. Maybe permanently. Which, of course, is not an option. Which is probably a good thing.
But STILL.
I would at least go ride a horse but…I don’t really now how. And I don’t want to run into Sara. I don’t know what to do. The queen, of course, pops in on me and I’m not like that for long.
“Why are you sitting here? There’s no reason to be idle. Only boring people are bored.”
I bite my tongue to keep from flatly informing her, “I never said I was bored. Go away. I’m doing something.”
When I don’t say anything instead of getting ticked, she laughs a little and sits down--UNINVITED--on my stylish, faintly floral couch. “Oh. My old composition teacher used to tell us that. I resented that then. I always did like her though. She was spunky and had a warped sense of humor which I admired. She was a tough teacher, but she cared.”
I look at her trying not to be interested or endeared a little by the affectionate way she’s talking about her teacher.
“I wonder where she is now.” She laughs again, this time not so happily. “Probably six feet under somewhere. If she’s lucky.”
I have to admit this shocks and disgusts me a little. “Oh my--!” I cut myself off and look down at my hands. “She’s probably still alive. The good live long.”
Now she laughs for real. “That’s not what I heard.”
I smile and push off my bed. “Well that’s as it should be right?”
She smiles back looking a little amazed which puts me off a little. Did she think I was incapable of being fun or nice? I guess I can’t blame her I felt the same way around her. And I haven’t made an effort to be nice just tolerant. “Coffee,” I ask, going over to make myself some either way.
“I don’t know I had a little extra yogurt in my breakfast shake this morning…”
I ignore that. “I have peppermint creamer…”
She laughs. “Oh I couldn’t. And you shouldn’t either.”
I ignore that too. “How do you like yours? Black, no cream or sugar?”
She looks pleased and surprised but doesn’t answer, so I guess I’m right and make her the coffee. I don’t know why I’m pushing this…I don’t want to reach out to her. Or I thought I didn’t. I guess I need someone to talk to. But there’s no way I’m telling her about Sara.
And unfortunately, that’s exactly what I do. There’s something about peppermint creamer--which I sneakily added to her coffee too--and coffee and two women sitting in such a feminine room that made me share.
Not exactly true, but a good excuse.
We have a nice long talk about it. When the queen holds up her arm and looks at her dainty gold watch I’m shocked to find out its been an hour. She leaves and we exchange gracious goodbyes. When she leaves I keep sitting there, holding my empty mug.
I can’t believe I confided in her. She’s my mother-in-law. She’s made it clear she’s not on my side. This is crazy. All she’s going to do is cause more problems. I’m so mad at myself…and her for letting me confide in her. It’s not fair but I don’t care.
But also I feel peaceful. For some odd reason. Like I can trust her.
Can I?
~*~
So I’m laying out on the balcony on my tummy reading this really fun book Light Years when suddenly I hear a door open. I look up quickly and Danny steps onto the balcony next to mine, separated by a foot or two of space. He doesn’t look happy.
“Hey could you come inside for a sec? I want to talk to you about something.” he says.
I sit up. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just come on in, okay?”
Instead, I hop over my railing to his. He looks really horrified at this. He just looks at me with his mouth opening and closing a few times and then reaches around me to slide his door open and usher me in. He comes in and closes the door and I turn to face him immediately. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
“You talked to my mom about us?”
Oops. “Um…” I walk away from him a little and sit on the edge of a barstool against his counter. “Yeah.” I bite my lip. “Right. I didn’t really mean to and I told myself not to but it just happened and…she told you?”
He leans back against the couch behind him. "No," he says slowly, and soudning pretty irritated.
"Well, who then?"
"Actually, that doesn't matter. What matters is that you told her and about fifteen minutes ago Sara marches in and tells me she needs to talk.'
You could say I'm speechless. So many thoughts are going through my head right now. First and foremost, where did that false feeling of peace and trust come from? And secondly, what kind of servant is Sara? Does she actually work or does she just saunter aroudn doing what she wants when she wants/ Even I can't do that! And I'm the princess. Not to be conceited or anything.
He's watching me "You don't have anything to say now? Funny, neither did I, at the time." He sands up straight now, folding his arms. "Listen. I know this whole palace thing is new to you but please please PLEASE be careful who you tell stuff too. My mother is off limits. Most of the staff is. Carey's not, Derek's not, Sara is."
"Duh." I can't help saying.
He gives me a look but doesn't said anything.
"Anyway, I really am sorry and it won't happen again." And then I start to leave. He has this look on his face like he wants to say something more but at the moment I don't feel like being around anybody. All I feel like doing is throwing myself out the window.
So I just settle for going back to the balcony to sunbathe and continue reading Light Years. But it doesn't seem as fun as it did before.
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