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He tries to give it back, but my mother pushes it away. “I insist! You’re a new neighbor too; this is my gift to you.” She looks over at Monica. “How about I bake you something for tomorrow? Don’t get any dessert, it’s on me.”
“Mom,” I whine under my breath. “Please.”
“Oh, it’s no bother, Piper,” she says. She blinks at Harrison. “You’re taking the sweater, right?”
Harrison shoots Monica a quick glance. An impish smile plays on her lips, and she gives him a faint nod.
“Of course,” Harrison says, folding the sweater under his arm. “I’m honored to accept this gift.”
“Good, good,” my mother says, clapping her hands together. She’s positively manic right now. “Oh, can I make you tea? I make my own teas. All kinds, all from my garden.”
“That’s quite all right,” Monica says. “We actually have to head back. I’m wanted on the back end of that meeting.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mom . . .”
“Sorry again to intrude like this,” Monica says, heading to the door along with Harrison. “But I’m so glad we were finally able to come over and meet you. I look forward to dinner tomorrow.”
She gives me a wave goodbye, and I can only smile back, all of this feeling like I’m stuck in a whirlwind.
“Oh, me too,” my mother says, walking after her, Liza on her heels. She pauses at the door and watches as they walk off. “Have a good day, Princess!”
She closes the door, and I’m already shaking my head.
“She’s a duchess, Mom, not a princess.” Even though I’ve been calling her a princess in my head.
“Oh whatever, it’s all the same,” she says, turning to me with a huge grin, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Piper. Piper, can you believe it? I can’t believe it. Oh, I haven’t been this excited about anything in years.”
I shouldn’t feel slighted by that, but I do. “Not even my wedding?”
She waves her hands at me dismissively. “No, no. We all knew that was going to end in heartache. That Joey is a rat bastard.”
The mention of Joey makes me stall, old pent-up feelings flooding me like a raging torrent that I’m unable to keep back. “Oh, you knew, did you?” I know I should keep my mouth shut and stop myself from spiraling like this in front of my mother, especially when I know it won’t go anywhere good. But I can’t help myself. “Did you know he was going to cheat on me the night of his bachelor party? Did you know I’d leave him at the altar? You knew all that?”
She gives me a pleading look. “Please, Piper, let’s not rehash this now. What’s done is done. You didn’t marry him, and it was for the best. Focus on the positive. We have royals for neighbors. We’re going over to their house tomorrow for dinner. Oh my god, I have to figure out how to make a cake!”
At that she whirls back into the kitchen and starts making a mess of things. Meanwhile, my own heart is feeling a bit of a mess, so I go out onto the deck and stare at the trees, glimpses of the ocean and the light breeze managing to come through.
I really shouldn’t dwell on my past, not now of all times. But I guess I can’t help but feel it’s all tying together. The duke and duchess are my neighbors now, they have my phone number and I have theirs, I’ve been invited over for dinner, but the truth is, I’m nowhere near being worthy of any of this. All it took was one little reminder of my past to bring me down into an unworthy shame spiral, something I thought I’d gotten better at avoiding, but I suppose not. I’m pretty much, as Harrison said, a Tic Tac–popping schoolteacher. One who had to leave her fiancé at the altar in front of the whole damn town. I’m in no way prepared to be hanging out with royal company.
And yet you are, I tell myself. And they don’t need to know all the gritty bits about you. Even if Monica is just being nice for the sake of being nice, this is still happening to you.
I know when that positive inner voice pops up, it’s all because of the work I’ve done with my therapists. I’ve also learned to embrace that voice instead of pushing it away, instead of thinking I’m not deserving of it.
So I listen. I straighten up my shoulders, walk back into the house, and prepare to help my mom with this cake for tomorrow.
Seven
The next day I wake up earlier than usual, needing a walk to clear my head.
I slip on my leggings and a hoodie, since it can sometimes be chilly in the mornings near the water, and head out of my bedroom.
