“Oh, Dad, thank—”
“The Smoke-R-Ator 3000. Got her at the ‘It’s Nearly Summer’ sale at Barney’s. Forty percent off. She’s got four removable racks, stainless steel interior, and a slow roasting oven, to boot! I can smoke the back half a pig at the same time I slow roast the front half in that thing.”
My eyes fall on the source of his admiration, which also happens to be my current nausea trigger. It’s a giant chrome meat smoker, roughly the size of a refrigerator, he’s set up in the front garden.
“Oh, my. That’s...that is really something, Dad.”
“Oh, but I suppose I shouldn’t talk about smoking pigs since you and your husband sleep with one.”
“Dexter doesn’t sleep with us. He has his own bed.”
“But in your bedroom.”
“Well, yes, but it’s okay. We’re not anti-bacon or something.”
Arthur comes up behind me and slides his arm behind my back. I feel a warm sense of gratitude that I don’t have to face my family alone. He gives a low whistle, then says, “That’s a terrific meat-smoker you’ve got there, Ruben. When’d you pick that up?”
I grin inwardly, knowing Arthur heard every word of what my father just said already. The two of them get involved in a conversation about smoking meat while my attention is diverted by a loud squealing sound—one that could rival Dexter when he wants breakfast. I turn to see my mum rushing down the steps to greet us. She’s got her apron on still, and I know in about one minute she’ll be cursing herself for not taking it off before the prince saw her.
“There you are! We’ve been wondering if you’d ever make it!” She gives me a warm hug, then blushes as Arthur gives her a kiss on her cheek.
We’re ten minutes later than I said we’d be. Maybe twelve.
“I thought you two were scheduled down to the minute?”
“My apologies, Evi. I had a call with the Prime Minister of Spain that went long. He started telling me about his daughter going off to Uni.”
She waggles her finger at Arthur. “Now, call me ‘Mum’, remember?”
“I’ll try.”
She gives me a glance, then speaks quietly out of the right side of her mouth, as though I can’t hear her. “Is she all right? I mean,really?”
“Mum, I’m standing right here. You can just ask me directly,” I say. “I’m fine, by the way. Everything’s perfectly normal.” As I say it, the word ‘normal’ comes out in a loud burp and my stomach churns.
My mum gives me a strange look and is just about to tell me how normal I’m not when Arthur loops his arm through hers and says, “Shall we take the party inside?”
I follow them up the steps, relieved to be getting away from the meat smells. As we reach the door, I hear my mother exclaim, “Oh, bother, I forgot to take my silly apron off! You’ll think you’re dining with the help!”
“Oh, Evi, remember, I’m just your son-in-law when I’m here.”
“I’ll try to remember that if you can try to remember to call me ‘Mum’.”
***
WE SIT DOWN TO DINNERabout half an hour later, all of us even more crammed in at the table now that we’ve added Arthur, Irene, Xavier (yes, he’s been forced by my mum to ‘make himself at home’ so she and my sisters-in-law can ogle him freely while we eat. Ben, Arthur’s driver, as well as his bodyguard, Ollie, have managed to refuse my mother’s overtures and stay outside in the vehicle. Lucky bastards. I wonder if anyone in the family would notice if I stayed out there with them? Hmm.).
Anyway, it’s a tight fit because we’ve also needed to make room for Nina and Lars’s fifth baby, Eugenia, who’s seated in a high chair slightly behind both her parents. It’s noisy and boiling hot in here with seven wiggly children at the kiddie table and twelve adults at a dining table meant for eight.
Arthur and I still haven’t made the big announcement. We’ve been waiting until everyone was together in the same room.
Nina, who is seated across from me, says, “How are you feeling, Tessa? That was quite the unfortunate bout of ‘food poisoning’ the other night.” She puts air quotes around food and poisoning.
“Yes, not my finest moment, but I’m much better now, thanks.”
She gives me a look that says she’s not buying it. “You don’t have any wine. You always have at least three glasses with dinner. Would you like me to get you some?”
I shake my head. “Not today, thank you.”
