I watch for a second as Brooke starts a series of sun salutations. “It’s like she’ll stop at nothing in her quest to prove how perfect she is. There’s nothing worse than someone born with every advantage—including their genetic makeup—who takes pleasure in rubbing everyone else's noses in the fact that they can't be perfect, too."
Nikki puts on her best snooty voice to imitate Brooke. "It's easy if you just sleep properly and eat well. Then you, too, can become a gorgeous, skinny doctor, marry a movie star, and have babies without anyone ever noticing you're pregnant."
I join Nikki in imitating Brooke. "...and then as soon as the baby is born, get right back to traveling the globe to tend to the less fortunate.” Pulling the box closer, I take out a cracker. "God, I hate her. There is literally no area in life where I'm better than her."
"That’s not true, and even if it were, it wouldn’t matter.You'rethe one who Arthur married, not her—in spite of all her efforts."
“True..." I say. "But in the eyes of the public, she was still the front runner, and now that she's married Avonia’s next most eligible bachelor, she’ll be keeping herself right where she wants to be—in the spotlight. I'm afraid people are going to forever be comparing the two of us. Oh God. I just realized the comparisons could very well carry over to our children. Her baby will probably bully my baby all the way through grade school.”
“Oh, yeah. Her baby’s definitely gonna be a total little arsehole,” Nikki says, “But don’t worry. Your baby will be so fierce, no one will dare fuck with her.”
“God, I hope so. I’d love to raise her to never put up with any shit from anyone, unlike her mum.” I stare at a close up of Brooke, who smiles as she does full cobra. “Why can’t Brooke just go away and never come back?”
“Ah, who cares about Awful Brooke? So what if she's a doctor? So what if she’s able to do—oh, Jesus, what the hell is that pose?”
I cringe as Brooke contorts her body until she’s on her allegedly pregnant stomach with her feet wrapped over her shoulders and tucked neatly under her chin.
“It’s called Formidable Face Pose.”
“That should be called the Creepy as Fuck Pose,” Nikki says. “But whatever,youare the consort to the future king, you're the head of what—three dozen charities? And you're just a much better person than her overall."
"Thank you,” I say in my best Claire Foy as Queen Elizabeth impression. “If only the rest of the kingdom thought like you." Sighing, I shut off the telly. “You know what? Forget what’s-her-name. She’s none of my concern.”
“Exactly. Good for you,” Nikki says in a firm tone. “Oh crap, I just realized I should have left for the salon twenty minutes ago.”
“Okay. Catch you soon, my friend.”
After we ring off, I stare at the black television screen for a minute, thinking about Brooke. Looking over at Dexter, who’s asleep on the couch next to me, I say, “She’s none of my concern, right, Dex?”
He opens one eye and stares for a second before he returns to snoring.
Hmm. I hope that meant he agrees with me...
