Prince John had proposed. And there she found a bit of a silver lining. The one good decision on her journey of a thousand bad ones. She’d turned him down. It made her breathing easier. Her anxiety lighter. Prince John from the House of Blue would not be saddled with her story for the rest of his life.
She was proud of herself. Truly. Then it took the rest of her effort to not admit she was in love with him. But she had the rest of her life to get over it.
Sunday night she slept hard. Monday she grounded herself in her day-to-day, unpacking, doing laundry, spending time with the herd, loving on the puppies, sitting under the trees by the pond, and burning the midnight oil to pack up the house.
Tuesday, she returned to work where Haley and JoJo—who were never shy about prying into Gemma’s personal life—said not word one about any of it.
They talked about the shop, their plans for the weekend, Buck’s new song, Cole’s new construction project, and how Haley’s daughter Emily, two, had picked out a song on the piano.
“She’s a prodigy, I just know it.”
Breath-by-breath, morning-by-morning, day-by-day, Gemma put the past behind her and pressed toward her future. It was the only way to survive.
August turned into September. The first Saturday turned into moving day.
The Music Row exec from the private flight over to London came over with his family to pick out two of the puppies. They left with Ross and Rachel, and two very happy children.
Penny adopted Joey and Justin’s mama took Phoebe home in a monogramed wool-lined bed.
The rabbits went to a petting zoo in Cincinnati. The goats were adopted by a farm in Ashland City. The folks there loved Miss Frances. Hooley called and said he’d take the barn cats.
“Doc says they’re fixed so I won’t have to worry about kittens but I just love a barn full of cats.”
Suddenly the barnyard was lonely, and Gemma began to feel lost, unanchored. At this stage in her life, she intended to feel like she had a handle on things. At least what the next five to ten years might look like. Instead, she was broke and moving home with her parents.
At least she had Imani. She was Gemma’s bright future. She’d give her all to her.
In all of this, one little thing nagged her from the back of her mind. Her so-called best friend, Prince John, had gone silent. She’d not even had so much as a text from him. Admittedly her phone was shut off for the first two days, but now, after some of the brouhaha had died down, didn’t he want to talk?
Was the ball in his court or hers? If she called, she felt like she’d just be making an excuse. If he rang, she felt she’d be giving more of an explanation. The outcome would be the same—a goodbye—but she’d feel better with option two.
Then there was the night she couldn’t sleep, and perhaps had temporarily lost her mind. Gemma scanned the comments on a picture of her with the prince. They were brutal and mocking, as if those two-dimensional people didn’t possess real, beating hearts.
Some dude named Hamish Fickle made a career of bashing the royal family and challenging Prince John’s character. The House of Blue maintained their dignity and never responded.
Silence often required more courage than speaking out.
A few days later while at work she saw a news story of Prince John laying the final wreath on Holland’s grave.
Dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, his hair shiny and styled, he looked every bit like a regal, royal prince doing his duty. But when he turned to the cameras, he looked like a man who’d buried his new wife and newly conceived child. Sad and sober, he moved slowly as he balanced the weight of his world.
Not only did he lose his wife, but thanks to the Reingard scandal, he lost the woman he thought he knew.
She almost texted him that day. Almost. But decided to let him move on and in doing so, realized she took the first step in reclaiming her dignity.
By the time moving day rolled around, she almost felt like her before-Lauchtenland self and inched toward her before-Prince John self.
Daddy arrived early with one of Cole Danner’s work trucks and a couple of the younger guys to load up Gemma and Imani’s bedroom furniture. That was about all they came with so that was all they were taking.
She wanted the Formica kitchen table, but B. A. Carpenter made it clear it was not to leave the premises.
By noon they’d loaded up Justin and Imani’s truck with boxes and suitcases, dog beds and two fifty-pound bags of dog food.
All in all, she felt strong, like she was commanding life. Making lemonade, you know? The day dawned with a bright sun in a blue, cloudless sky and just a touch of fall fragrances in the summer breeze.
Then as she cleaned the last of the papers from the desk tucked into the kitchen corner and powered down her computer, the screen door slammed behind her as Daddy stepped inside.
“He’s here.”
