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I know her well enough to answer, “Yes. Without hesitation.”
She puts a hand to her heart, “Well, that hurts.”
I put an arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. “If it were anyone else, I would be upset by the intrusion. Yet, with you, I know it comes from a place of love. But, Mom, I need you to let Ariella and I work things out in our own time and in our own way.”
“I just want you to be happy,” she pretends to sniffle.
“I am happy. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
She pats my cheek lightly. “Go wash up and take Alex with you. Dinner is almost ready.” I don’t make a fuss because my stomach roars with hunger at the mention of food. I call Alex over and tell him we need to wash our hands. He happily obliges, and soon, we’re ready to sit down at the dinner table.
“Can I sit next to you?” he asks as we approach the family dining room. The table can seat up to twenty, which came in handy when there used to be a lot of ranch hands.
“Sure. But I thought you would want to sit next to your mom.”
He lifts his tiny little shoulders and says, “She can manage without me for one meal. She’ll understand.” I try not to laugh, but a small chortle escapes me anyway. He gives me a toothy grin and then sits in the chair beside mine. Savannah sits on his other side while Ariella takes an open seat across from me.
“Shall we bless the food?” my dad asks. We all join hands and bow our heads as he begins to pray.
“Our Heavenly Father, we thank You for the many wonderful blessings that You have bestowed upon us. We thank You for the safe travels of everyone here tonight and for bringing Ariella and Alex to our humble abode. We pray that while they’re here, they will feel safe, secure, and at home. We promise to treat them like the family they are. Thank You for the food and all of Your provisions. In your name, Amen.”
We all chime in with an “Amen,” I see a twinkle in my father’s eyes as he asks for someone to pass the potatoes.
Conversation ensues around the table until my mom asks a question I’ve also been meaning to ask. “Ariella, I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but I’m also far too curious to refrain. So, please forgive me in advance for my bluntness.”
Ariella puts down her utensils and folds her hands together in her lap. “By all means, ask.” Her slightly turned-down lips indicate that she may already have an idea of what my mom’s question will be.
“Okie dokie. When you arrived here today, and my son was introducing you, he used the last name of Argos. You said it was still Caras. Why didn’t you take…” My mom searches through her mental Rolodex for the Prince’s name.
“Kiernan?” Ariella asks.
“Yes, Kiernan. Why didn’t you take his last name when you eloped? I remember it was all over the news and in the gossip rags.”
Ariella’s eyes narrow slightly at my mom’s question, but I don’t interject because it’s something that has been niggling at me as well. With Alex calling his father “Kiernan” rather than “Dad,” things aren’t adding up for me.
The silence in the room is deafening as we wait for her answer. When she does, it isn’t what I was expecting.
“There are a couple of reasons. One, it isn’t necessary when we are both diplomats for our respective countries and the people are familiar with who we are. But the second and most important reason is that we were never married.”
If there was ever a ‘mike drop’ moment for me, this is it. My cutlery falls on my plate as I stare at her dumbfounded. No one says a word except for Savannah.
As the only one in the group besides my parents who has even a remote bit of knowledge about my relationship with Ariella—and even she doesn’t know it all—she says, “This is better than any reality television.”
Ariella ignores her and looks at me with pleading eyes while mine are beginning to blur with unshed tears. The one and only time I have ever cried was when my grandpappy passed away. When she starts to speak, I hold up my hand and shake my head.
“Excuse me. I need to leave.” I have never walked away from anyone or anything until this moment, but I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll say something I’ll regret. Placing my napkin on my mostly full plate, I get up from the table and head outside.
Once I’m in the brisk, cool air, it doesn’t take long for my walk to turn into a run. I’m not sure what I’m running from or what I’m running to. All I know is that I don’t feel in control and need to let someone else take the reins while I clear my mind. I run and pray. When I get to the edge of the property, I let out a primal scream and drop to my knees to pray some more.
“God, why would you keep her from me for all these years? Did she not love me enough? Why did she fake a marriage when she knew I was waiting for her? It’s not fair!” I know I sound like a petulant child, but I feel like I’m being punished.
My answer comes via a memory, the words I spoke to Savannah thrown back at me, “That’s because He has something better planned than what you desire. Trust Him to know what’s best.”
Trusting Him to know what’s best, I eventually manage to pick myself up off the ground and head home.
Chapter eight
Ariella
