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You guessed it, Monica, Eddie, and baby Madeline have finally made it back to our rock on the Pacific. Honestly, when we first parted ways, I doubted I’d see them again. It felt like their fairy-tale presence was only for a brief moment in my life, perhaps just enough to bring Harrison and me together, like a pair of enchanted matchmakers. I mean, it feels absolutely unreal at times that Harrison and I are together (let alone engaged, but more on that later), the royal bodyguard and the small-town schoolteacher. The last thing I expected was to still be friends with a duke and duchess.
And yet, here we are. I’ve managed to keep in touch with Monica, texting with her at least a couple of times a month. She listens to my podcast too—she says it helps her sleep, but whatever, I’ll take it as a compliment.
Of course Harrison has kept in touch with them as well, talking to Eddie often. It just took two years for them to finally find the time to come here. They’ve tacked it on to a trip down to Seattle to see Monica’s parents, but they haven’t told anyone except us, so it’s kind of secret.
Or at least that’s the plan. I’m just waiting for the helicopters to start showing up.
“Bert got them okay?” Harrison asks my mother as he gets to his feet.
“Yes, they should be here any minute,” she says just as the timer dings from the kitchen. “Oh, and the pie is ready.”
“Mom, they just got here after an incredibly long journey. You think the first thing they’re going to want is pie?”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t be such a pastry hater,” she says with a dismissive wave, heading toward the kitchen.
Harrison makes a tsking sound as he holds his hand out for me. “You know nothing interrupts our pie Sundays.”
I put my hand in his, and he effortlessly hauls me to my feet, then places a kiss on the top of my head.
Pie Sundays are a thing now. Well, they have been since Harrison opened his bakery. I swear to god that job keeps him busier than being a royal bodyguard did. He’s up before dawn, working crazy-long hours, and yet he still finds time to make a pie with my mother on Sundays, which I find incredibly sweet, since I know he just wants to relax and do nothing on his day off.
But it means something to my mom, especially since we got engaged. She really wants to make him a part of the family, which has been pretty easy considering she lives next door to us.
And us, well, we’re in the mansion.
Naturally, a schoolteacher salary and owning a bakery does not buy a house of this magnitude, but what does is a tell-all book. Harrison wrote one (I helped, but that’s neither here nor there), with Monica and Eddie’s permission, of course. The thing is, the book wasn’t really about the royals. It was more about baking, with some personal stuff interspersed in there.
And by personal, I mean it was really all about Harrison. He talked about his youth, his family, growing up, the army, being a bodyguard, and finally being a baker on a small island on the Salish Sea. Since he’s such a private person by nature, it really pushed him out of his comfort zone to open up, especially about the nitty-gritty. But as he’s said a few times before, fuck the part of society that doesn’t understand, and I couldn’t be more proud of him for being so honest and vulnerable. There’s really nothing sexier.
It did extremely well. It definitely helped that I convinced him to do TikTok videos for a bit, which in part really helped promote the book, and it became a runaway success.
So now we live in the mansion, and my mother and Bert live next door to us.
They’re officially together now. Not engaged or anything like that. I’m not really sure if either of them will take that step, even though my mom does seem to be warming up to the idea. But they’re honestly the sweetest thing and so good for each other. Bert is a real take-charge, protective guy, which is perfect for her, and she’s still going to her therapy and taking her meds. Sometimes there are setbacks, but with an arsenal of people who love her around, she always gets back on her feet. Of course, she has Liza, who runs around on the compound, using the doggy doors to each house, just like we’d imagined.
“Shall we go meet the mini royal?” Harrison says, grabbing my hand.
“Of course.” We step inside, and I yell at my mother in the kitchen. “When you’re done fussing with the pie, can you get the white wine out of the fridge? That’s what they’re going to want first, believe me.”
