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“Which one? You have a million bottles,” she asks, staring at the fridge.
“The Garry Oaks Pinot Gris,” I tell her. I don’t normally have a million bottles in the fridge; it’s just that we had a small party on Friday night, just me and Harrison, Cynthia and her new boyfriend, and Georgia and her husband. We try to do a couples thing every other week, just to keep me from going into my antisocial hermit zone, and I have to say it’s really helped me stay connected to society, especially during the summer, when I’m not with the kids every day. I’ve made some deep, lasting friendships in this place, and, coupled with Harrison’s business and working with the public every day, I no longer feel like an outsider. Just takes a bit of effort sometimes on my part.
Harrison and I walk through the house and step onto the driveway just as we see the gates open and Bert’s RCMP vehicle pull up to the house. I cringe a little—for some reason I expected him to pick them up in a black SUV, and yet here they are, being deposited like they’re being dropped off at a police station.
After an amused glance at Harrison, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.
Nevertheless, the doors open and they step out. Eddie, Monica, and little Madeline.
“Hey!” Eddie cries out, jogging over to Harrison and wrapping him in a tight hug before he does the same to me. He’s dressed down in a polo shirt and jeans and looks as relaxed as he did the last time he was here. “We made it.”
“Got them here in one piece,” Bert says proudly as he exits the vehicle just as James, the bodyguard, gets out the passenger side. He gives me a polite nod as a greeting.
But I’m already looking at Monica, who is as beautiful as ever in a sundress. She’s still glowing, so obviously that’s nothing to do with pregnancy; it’s just who she is.
“Piper,” she says to me in a subdued squeal, and we have a quick embrace. “So good to finally see you.” She smiles down at Madeline, who has the gangly limbs of Eddie and the dark hair of Monica. She’s shy, barely making eye contact, but she radiates the same kind of calm energy that her mother does. “This is Madeline. Madeline, do you want to say hi to Piper?”
“Hello,” Madeline says quietly.
It looks like what Madeline really wants to do is bury her head against Monica’s leg, and I’ve never related to a kid more. I want to tell her that I get that way when meeting new people too, except this kid is a royal and she’s been trained to push past that discomfort and put on a good face, something I need to learn.
“She’s shy,” Monica whispers to me. “Which is a challenge considering who we are.”
“She’s lovely,” I tell her. “How was your flight over?”
“Well, Madeline slept for most of it,” Monica says, reaching down and scooping her daughter up into her arms. “And I can tell she’s still a little sleepy. I, on the other hand, was kept up by a book.”
“What book?”
A sly smirk plays on her lips, her eyes dancing mischievously. “A book you bought me years ago.”
I have no clue what she’s talking about. “When did I buy you a book?”
“Well, it was Harrison who gave it to me, but I know you had something to do with it. At least I hope.” She leans in close to me and whispers in my ear, “It was about pegging. I didn’t even know what that was. I had to look it up, and oh boy.”
I burst out laughing. “You read that on the plane?”
She grins at me. “Well, it gave me some ideas for Eddie, at least.”
I don’t even want to think about the two of them in a compromising position, but I’m saved by my mother appearing at the front door in her apron, proudly displaying her baked goods.
“I hope you’re all starving, because it’s pie time!” my mother exclaims, grinning at us before disappearing into the house.
“Don’t worry,” I say to the royals as we head inside. “There’s wine and beer too. Figured that’s what you really need.”
“No wonder we get along so well,” Monica says to me with a grin. “I feel like I’ve got lost time to make up for, since I couldn’t drink a drop last time.”
“Well, considering you’re staying with us for a week, let’s not get carried away,” Harrison warns.
“I see you’re still no fun, Harrison,” she says to him, playfully smacking his arm.
I grab Harrison’s hand and give it a squeeze, watching as the duke and duchess walk inside their old house, Bert leading the way, the hunky Scot James trailing after them. I look up at my fiancé. “Don’t worry, I think you’re fun.”
