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When Patrick’s team members press their faces against the screen door, hoping to get in on the action, Charlie speaks up. “If you three know what’s good for you, you’ll turn right around and go back to the dining room to finish your dinner!” sounding very motherly.
Jessie says louder than she ought to, “We can just go back to the bunkhouse and listen in on the audio.”
Charlie points her finger at Jessie, “You will do no such thing. In fact…” she stands up, pulls the camera and microphone from the hanging potted plant, and throws it on the ground. Before she can step on it, Jerry yells, “STOP! That’s like three grand worth of equipment!”
“Oh. Well then, you better take it and go back inside,” she says with a smirk. The screen door opens, and nothing more than Jerry’s arm sticks through, his palm out. She places the device in his hand and tells them that there’s cheesecake in the fridge. It doesn’t take much coaxing after that to get them to leave.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were going to tell all in an exposé of royal affairs,” says Don jokingly.
“How much of our relationship did Patrick tell you about?” I ask, trying to gauge where to start.
“Everything,” Charlie answers.
“Everything?” I ask.
“Everything, which is why I was baffled to find out you were married to the Prince of Brachha in the first place. At least I know why you didn’t tie the knot,” she says.
“That’s part of it, but not the entire reason. When I returned home, our palace had just been bombed. It was the start of a small rebellion in which a minority of the people wanted to have a say in how our country was run.”
“A democracy,” she says, understanding.
“Yes. Since then, there have been a few minor attacks, but they’ve always been relatively benign. No one has ever been hurt, at least not until this most recent event. There has only been damage to the property which is fixed easily enough. It was chaotic when I came home because this was such a new development. It took time to rebuild, re-establish peace, and start talks with their leaders. We’ve been doing it in secret for almost a decade. The need for democracy generally occurs when a country is in turmoil, not flourishing like Cothena always has. But we also understand the need to give the people a say in what happens…within limits.”
“Okay. Go on,” Charlie says, with Don sitting on the corner railing.
“I have been betrothed to Kiernan since my mom first discovered she was having a girl. Kiernan and I have always been friends, but we have never felt a connection that would allow us to be anything more. He’s a playboy at heart and never wanted to be tied down. But when I returned home only to find out I was pregnant, he offered to help.”
“How does faking a marriage help,” Don asks gruffly.
“If my mother had discovered what happened in the Bahamas, Patrick’s career would have been ruined. He loves what he does, and I wasn’t about to be the one to take that away from him,” I say, slightly defensive. Something tells me this family appreciates a little backbone, even if mine feels like rubber.
“Was that just your choice to make?” Charlie asks gently.
“It was. Patrick wasn’t there, and I didn’t have him to lean on. I did the best I could with what I had to work with. I love my mother fiercely, but she would have done anything to bridge the gap between Brachha and Cothena. It was a tiny fissure at the time, but she wanted to ensure it didn’t grow.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Don asks.
“If you mean that my mother may have had Patrick taken out for good? Maybe. She’s grown colder over the years, and I thought it was a real possibility at the time. As much as I love my mother, she has always put Cothena above love. Kiernan recognized that before I did, which is why he suggested we ‘elope.’ My mother was upset she didn’t get the big hoopla of a wedding but happy that things worked out as she had planned. Kiernan has brown hair and blue eyes like Patrick, so it was easy to pass Alex off as his own. My mother made her assumptions about why we needed to elope, and we let her believe them.”
“It’s all making sense now. You faked a marriage to Kiernan to protect not only Alex from public scrutiny but potentially my son’s life.” Charlie’s eyes well with tears as understanding dawns on her.
There’s a loud scream off in the distance, an echo of someone in despair. It hurts my heart to know that it’s Patrick. “Should I go to him?” I ask.
“No. He’ll be back. I promise,” Charlie declares. “He’s just having his ‘come to Jesus’ moment and letting it all out. It was quite a shock for him to realize you weren’t married after all these years. He would have risked it all to come to you if he had known.”
“Is he angry with me?” I ask. Don and Charlie share a look, and it’s not one I like.
“Can I be honest with you, Ari?” Charlie says, shortening my name like Patrick has always done.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I tell her truthfully.
“How would you feel if you were in his shoes? You’ve been lying not only to the world but also to him for nine years. Lying to us and to the people that matter. Wouldn’t you be upset?”
“Yes.”
“Then allow him his anger. Allow him to work through it. Allow him to process his emotions without pressure or condemnation. He’s going to need space. Just be ready to listen when he’s ready to talk.” She puts her arms around me and embraces me fully, and I can’t help the tears that stream down my cheeks. We sit there like that for a long time, Don patting my shoulder before he heads back inside.
When Patrick’s shadow can be seen off in the distance, Charlie turns to me. “Remember what I said. Let him come to you, and don’t press. He’s angry and hurt.” She stands up to leave us alone, “I’ll let the two of you have your moment while I go hug my grandson.”
