“How doyounot know the answer to that?” Gran asks. “I should have gone with Arthur and Tessa.”
“If you’ll recall, they did offer, but you told them you’d rather eat glass than ride with the two totally wound-up kiddies screeching like banshees,” I tell her.
“I know what I said, and I stand by it,” Gran snaps. “What I really should have done is got my own car. Or maybe a moped,” she says, as an old woman on a bright turquoise Vespa passes us. “That looks like a riot.”
I watch as the woman goes by looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world. I’m suddenly chartreuse with envy. Oh, to be that free. Then it occurs to me that I’m the one turning this into the tension-filled insanity that it’s become, and I really don’t have to. I put my hand on Gran’s and say, “I’m sorry. I’m just so desperate for everything to go well between our two families.”
“We know,” Gran says. “You’ve only been talking about it since we left the palace. Clam up already. You’re making everyone nervous.”
Clam up? Well, that was rude. I turn to look out the windows at the palm trees zipping by. I so wish the film crews weren’t meeting us here. This trip is a total risk, and to be honest, since I suggested it, I’ve been second-guessing the entire thing. I mean, what if instead of bringing our families closer together, we end up in some big awful brawl?
Oh God. There’s the sign for Paradise Bay. A loud burp escapes from my dad. He covers his mouth and says, “Excuse me.”
“Now, look what you’ve done!” Gran tells me. “You’ve given him the nervous burps.”
The nervous burps is a rather unfortunate family trait that luckily Arthur and I haven’t inherited. It almost never happens, but once my father starts, he can’t stop. In fact, they get louder and longer until whatever is stressing him out goes away, which could be hours…or in this case, possibly days if we get off on the wrong foot. Guilt floods my chest and I pat my father’s knee. “Dad, pay no attention to all my fussing. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. Everything will be fine, I’m sure.”
Maybe.
It better be or I’ll kill someone.
Stop that, Arabella! Perspective!
We pull up in front of the large, open-air lobby and see Will and his entire family standing off to the side under the shade of the enormous portico. My heart pounds wildly and my palms go sweaty as I silently pray to all that is holy that this goes well.
When we step out into the hot, fragrant air, I draw in a deep breath and hurry over to Will, trying not to look too desperate in front of the cameras, but also totally feeling desperate to wrap my arms around him.
Grinning, he pulls me in for a long hug—oh, wow, that’s what I needed—and we give each other a kiss that’s somewhere between church-appropriate and soldier returning from war.
Someone clears their throat and I realize it’s Arthur, who is standing stiffly, waiting for introductions. Will and I pull apart from each other quickly and a chain of hellos and awkward bows and clumsy curtsies (especially from poor, very obviously pregnant Libby) begins while I say, “Oh, no, you don’t have to…that’s okay…let’s be informal about all of this…”
Too late. It’s all done. We stand and stare at each other for a moment, then my dad lets out a loud burp. I quickly start talking in an overly loud voice to cover up for him. “Flora and James, this is Clara! She’s Will’s niece and she’s around the same age as you.”
Flora, who looks totally exhausted, hangs off Tessa’s hip and gives Clara a disinterested nod. James, who’s clearly got ants in his pants zips up to her and pokes her on the nose with one finger, and says, “You’re a ginger.”
Oh, no, no, no. Let’s play nicely, children. I’m counting on you.
Clara gives a confused look up at Libby, who doesn’t seem to know what to say. Arthur swoops in, crouching down and saying, “That means he loves the beautiful red colour of your hair. And so do I. My name is Arthur, by the way. I’m Arabella’s big brother.”
Oh, thank goodness. Arthur can save this, I’m sure. He’s wonderful with children (although not as good as their super hot manny, Xavier, who they decided to leave at home). Arthur turns to his son, who is shaking his head and saying, “But I don’t love her hair, Father.”
Arthur gives himthe lookand says, “Please introduce yourself properly, James.”
“My name is James Edward Ruben Winston Langdon. I’m a prince so you must call me Prince James or, if you like, you may call me sir.”
Tessa gasps loudly while Arthur takes James by the hand, muttering, “Excuse me.” The pair disappear around the corner where Arthur gives him a good talking-to. I know because I can hear every word, and likely so can the cameras. I am guessing right about now that Arthur is really regretting telling Xavier that he could have the week off, that he and Tessa can certainly manage their little angels for a week. Xavier might be getting a raise…
BURP!
I smile down at Clara and say, “Hello Clara, what a beautiful dress you have on.”
She grins up at me shyly and nods. Turning to Flora, I say, “Come say hi to Clara. I’m sure you two will be fast friends.”
“No thank you, Auntie. I’m not in the mood for public engagements,” she says in a haughty tone.
Gran stifles a laugh, obviously finding it amusing to see the next generation of parents being humiliated by their children. Rosy, who seems to think that Gran approves of my niece and nephew’s snooty behaviour, glares at Gran and crosses her arms. The rest of Will’s family looks on with a mixture of concern and disapproval while I offer an awkward laugh. “I’m so sorry, Clara. I’m afraid James and Flora are rather tired after a long day of travel, but I’m certain tomorrow they’ll be much more fun.”
She shrugs. “That’s okay. They’re…” Turning to Harrison, she says, “Dad, what’s that word you said? Hotty tatty?”
