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And the locals too. That viral video of mine may have enamored the public to us as a couple, but it also made me a local celebrity. It gave a boost to my podcast, inspired me to start a romance book club at our very inclusive, super awesome local library, and helped create a sense of camaraderie on the island. Of course there are always going to be the naysayers, but they’re less tolerated now that people realize that having each other’s back is truly what makes this place sing.
We pull into the driveway, no more SUVs or media vans parked on the street (though things did get a little crazy after Monica announced her pregnancy), and drive up to the royals’ house.
There’s a large van outside that two movers in dark suits (I’m guessing specially hired British people) are moving furniture into. Monica had said they wanted to ship a lot of things via freight back home. I’m starting to think there won’t be much left of the house after this.
“I wonder what’s going to happen to this place?” I ask Harrison wistfully as we step out of the car.
He walks over to me and grabs my hand. “You don’t see us living here one day?”
I give him an incredulous look and snort. “No. Do you?”
He nods, squinting at the house. “I do. You have to dream big, Piper. No reason why this can’t be ours.”
“Uh, because it costs millions of dollars.”
“That’s why I said to dream big,” he says, pulling me toward him. He cups my face in his hands and peers at me with soft, inquisitive eyes. “You know I’ll buy it for us one day. We’ll move in here. Your mother will live next door.”
“What about Liza?” I ask, touched by how sincere he is.
“She can run around and choose,” he says. “We’ll put doggy doors on each house.”
I kiss the inside of his hand. “And where are you getting this money from? You never told me that being a PPO was so lucrative.”
“It’s not,” he says. “But you did say that TikTok videos are the next big thing.”
“You’re kidding me!” I smack his arm.
He just grins. “As I said, dream big.”
I think he’s probably joking about doing his whole naked-baker thing, but you never know. At the very least, he’s thinking to the future.
And he’s making sure I’m in it.
We head over to the door that’s already open and step through. There are boxes absolutely everywhere, and we catch a glimpse of Agatha scurrying in the background.
“Hello?” Harrison says as we make our way through the halls.
“They’re just outside,” James says as he steps in from around the corner, nodding at the deck. He lowers his voice. “Between you and me, I think the moving is getting to them. Monica has been a bit weepy all day.”
“Thanks, mate,” Harrison says, slapping James on the shoulder. Since Harrison stepped down, James stepped up. He was a natural replacement. Those tree guys are still somewhere, I presume, unless they headed home to London already. They have me wondering what they’ll do with no giant firs and cedars to hide in. Rappel down old buildings and statues?
We head out onto the deck. It’s mid-October and it’s chilly, but there’s something so cozy about it. The leaves on the maples have turned gold and orange; the grass is high and tan, flowing in the sea breeze like wheat; and fog hugs the shore. I wrap my cardigan around me tighter and go over to Monica, who is sitting down and buried under a million layers of fleece.
Her eyes are puffy—James was right about that—and she’s so huge even at six months that she can barely get up.
“Stay,” I tell her, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re warm enough?”
“She better be,” Eddie says, dressed in a flannel jacket and toque pulled down on his head. “Otherwise we’re heading inside.”
“I’m fine,” Monica snaps, and then adjusts herself. “I have a hot-water bottle at my back. It’s doing wonders.”
“Care for a glass of wine?” Eddie asks us.
“I’ll take a red,” Harrison says, heading for the doors. “Piper?”
“Yes, please. I’m off the clock.”
“Harrison, please sit down. Agatha will get it,” Eddie admonishes him.
“Agatha is running around like a chicken with her head cut off,” Harrison says, disappearing inside. He only moved in with me a month ago, so he had a long enough time here, with this place as his home. It’s normal for him to help himself to their always stocked fridge and bar.
“So how are you doing?” I ask Monica, perching on the deck chair beside her. “You doing okay?”
She nods, and then a tear runs down her cheek. She hastily wipes it away before resting her head in her hands. “I’m fine,” she sobs.
I put my hand on her back and rub it reassuringly, looking to Eddie for advice.
