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“Live, Mother,” he said softly. It was the softness in his tone, in fact, that caused the chill to creep up the backs of my arms. If he’d said it loudly, it wouldn’t have sounded half as convincing. “I’m going to live.”
Then he left the penthouse, closing the door behind him as softly as he’d spoken.
In the ensuing silence, all I could hear was Rommel’s panting. When I risked a glance at my grandmother, I saw that her face had gone the same color as my bruised foot . . . a sort of purplish gray.
When she noticed I was looking at her, she snapped, “Well, I hope you’re happy now, Amelia. If he abdicates, you’re going to have to take his place on the throne. And it will all be your own fault.”
“How is it my fault?” I demanded. “Just because I told him he didn’t have to follow the map?”
“Yes, whatever that nonsense even means. You know perfectly well sacrifices have to be made when one inherits a throne. Well, now that responsibility is going to fall on you, young lady. Enjoy planning your wedding while also planning a coronation! Enjoy the honeymoon, because as soon you get back, you’ll be princess of a country that’s falling apart!”
“You forgot to add pregnant,” I said. “With twins.”
She stared at me. “What did you say?”
“A baby.” I pulled the copy of the ultrasound from my pocket and stuck it to the suit of armor next to the baby grand. “I’m having one. Times two.”
Grandmère wandered toward the suit of armor to stare at the ultrasound, Rommel trotting along behind her. “Baby?” she murmured. For once, I’d managed to render her speechless. Well, almost. “Two?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I’m going to do just fine ruling
Genovia. The wedding’s going to be fine, too. Though we’re going to need a bigger dress—”
“Okay.” Michael crossed the foyer to take me by the arm. “That’s it. We’re going home now. We’ll see you later, Clarisse.”
“Pregnant?” She stood there murmuring, still staring at the ultrasound. “Twins?”
I don’t know what she did after that because Michael shut the door behind us. He doesn’t really approve of the way I broke the news to my parents (well, paternal grandparent).
But I think I did the best I could under the circumstances, which admittedly were not ideal.
Now I’m in bed with my foot up (finally), eating Rocky Road ice cream (I’m totally going to set up an appointment with a nutritionist like Michael wants us to, but until then, I’m just going to finish this ice cream) and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer with Fat Louie and Michael beside me.
I suspect tomorrow is going to be a bad day—like, epically bad—so right now I’m going to take Dr. Delgado’s advice and practice gratitude.
Three things I’m grateful for:
1. That I’m safe in bed with the person (and cat) I care about most in the world, watching this awesome TV show.
2. That I have a sister, even though I don’t know how she’s doing. I hope she’s okay. She hasn’t responded to any of my text messages.
3. That I sent the RGG to sit outside her house and monitor her movements, including when she’s at school tomorrow, because I don’t trust that Annabelle Jenkins girl.
And I don’t care what anyone says: it’s not spying, or intrusive. It’s simply making sure my little sister is safe, and being well looked after.
4. That unlike Olivia, I have a mom, even though I can’t necessarily call to tell her my news, because it’s not really the kind of thing you should tell someone over the phone, especially when they live in the same city as you do . . . Hello, Mom? I’m having twins!
It would be nice just to hear her voice. But I know she’s with Dad right now, dealing with whatever it is the two of them are dealing with. I don’t even want to know, really. I just hope they’re happy.
5. And that it’s the episode where Buffy’s class gives her the special award of an umbrella, to thank her for protecting them, which she wasn’t expecting, because she didn’t know they knew that she was the Slayer, and that she was protecting them the whole time. But they did, and they’re grateful. It makes me cry every time.
Hmm, that’s more than three things. I have so much to be grateful for. I feel like I might burst.
CHAPTER 67
12:05 a.m., Friday, May 8
Third-Floor Apartment
