The door to the apartment swings open, and my mum walks in. “Hello, Twinkle. Don’t you look lovely! I came to check on you before the big interview.”
She sweeps across the room in her new, ‘I live at the palace so I better look like a debutante on the night of her cotillion’ way. She’s been doing this for weeks now, walking with her arms down at her sides, palms down and pointed out like a Barbie doll with a look of serenity on her face. It’s just awful to watch. I almost want to invite my brothers here so they can make fun of her until she stops, but then I’d have to put up with them making fun of me, so I can’t bring myself to make the call.
“That’s a beautiful suit you’re wearing. Really hides your pregnancy weight...well, mostly.” She gives me another once-over, and I find myself fidgeting with my eyelash curler. “I was thinking you should try to draw the attention up to your face. Maybe some bright red lipstick, or a very sparkly necklace and a tiara.”
She just wants to go down to the vault again. Arthur took my parents down when they first moved in, and she hasn’t stopped talking about it since.
“No time for a trip to the vault, I’m afraid, but thanks for the idea.” I fiddle with my shirt collar for a minute and pull a face, then sigh.
“Come here,” she says, tapping my shoulder. I turn to face her, and she adjusts my shirt collar for me, then nods. “There. Much better.”
“Not that it matters. I still look like the Cowntess of Camembert,” I mutter.
She gives me a knowing look. “I thought you might be feeling a little bit sorry for yourself.”
“Wouldn’t you if you were me?”
“I don’t think I would. You’re married to a wonderful man, you’re going to have twins, which I’d say is pretty special. You’ll lose all this weight later. But for now, you need to remember it doesn’t matter in the least what any of these awful people think of you. Only the opinion of one person will make the least bit of difference in your actual life and your future.”
“I know,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I know Arthur thinks I’m beautiful.”
“Not Arthur, silly,” my mum says, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “You.”
I tear up as the truth of what she’s just said sinks in.
“Ifyoubelieve you’re an amazing, talented, beautiful woman, none of those stupid comments will hurt you in the least.”
“What if I’m not amazing or talented or beautiful?”
“Believe it anyway because to do otherwise will just wear you down.” She cups my cheeks with her hands, then says, “Besides, it’s true, you know. You’ve grown into a lovely young woman with so much to give.”
I pull back and narrow my eyes a bit. “Mum, if you really believe that, why haven’t you ever told me? Why didn’t you ever encourage me?”
“What are you talking about? I’m always trying to encourage you,” she says stiffly. “I’m constantly giving you tips on how you can better yourself. Would a mother do that if she didn’t care? I think not. She’d just say nothing.”
“Yes, I get that you nitpick because you care, but you rarely ever say anything remotely nice about me, whereas you’re always praising the boys to no end.”
My mum’s head snaps back a little. “That’s because boys are weak and they have such fragile egos. Besides, none of them would ever listen to a thing I had to say anyhow. It would have been a waste of breath, whereas with you...I took a special interest in helping you along because I knew you were strong enough to handle my helpful little comments.”
“But all the comments about how lacking in intelligence I am? How exactly was I supposed to change that?”
“I’venever said you weren’t smart. That was your brothers. I’ve tried to help you with your accident-prone tendencies, but I don’t think there’s much that can be done, really. You’ve always been a bit of a disaster, ever since you were tiny. Remember the story of how you threw up on the Vicar at your christening?”
“Yes, I —”
“Right in his mouth when he held you over his head to present you. Thenhethrew up in the baptismal font. Oh, it was just awful—”
“You’ve already told—”
“I knew right then, I’d need to focus your attention on things you could do well, to help you find your way. You never liked Lego, so I knew you weren’t going to be an engineer or an architect like Noah or Finn. But who bought you all those books to read? Hmm?”
I give her a one-shoulder shrug.
“Life’s like poker. You play the hand you get dealt. You were never going to be Grace Kelly, but look at you, you’ve somehow managed to parlay what God gave you into a marriage to a Crown Prince—a pretty magnificent one at that. Now, don’t blow it because some nasty, jealous shrews are trying to make themselves feel better at your expense. That would make you stupid, and I’ve always thought that in your own way, you are quite smart.”
Huh. I was not expecting to hear that. Ever. “Thanks, Mum. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Oh, enough with the thinking. Justlive, Tessa. Play the hand you’ve been dealt and enjoy every fracking moment of it because it’s the best hand anyone can get. It’s like you’ve been given a full house.”
