Cindy's Prince

by Bush, Christine

  “Hey,” she quipped back, “I’m not going to hold it against you that you’re rich. Can we turn on the radio now and stop talking about this?”

  So they did. Country music filled the air, and Cindy Castle started to sing at the top of her lungs, along with the woman’s voice blasting through his quadraphonic speakers. The tune was catchy, something about hoping everyone got up and danced. No one was more surprised than Princeton Highfield, when one verse and three blocks later, he had joined in, singing in a booming voice.

  Chapter Eleven

  The closest parking spot they found in Cindy’s neighborhood at the late night hour was about two blocks down the street. Most of the neighbors were home and settled, only a few lights were still burning as they passed by. Cindy was glad the walk wasn’t further, and knew she’d be even gladder to get in the front door and shed the too-large black heels that were making a mockery of her feet. Give her nice comfortable sandals any old day.

  They stepped up to the front door, welcoming light burning overhead, and the glow of the living room light casting golden rays on the flowers outside the door.

  Used to her independence, and thinking more about her feet than about chivalry, Cindy reached out her hand to open the storm door. Prince reached out at the same instant, his large fingers coming to rest on hers. She swayed, his gentle touch causing liquidy warmth to run through her body from head to toe. She leaned back into him as he stood on the step behind her, his chin barely grazing the top of her hair.

  The sensation felt so deliciously good, to have his strong presence behind her, his hand resting on hers on the door handle. She loved the feeling. She hated the feeling. The vulnerability left her exposed, as if her body betrayed her. She had no time or desire for such complicated feelings.

  If Cindy turned, if she even spun one little bit, she knew what the result would be. Standing at the doorway, at the end to a wonderful, if slightly tumultuous night, he would kiss her. Again. And if he kissed her, she would be so far out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t even imagine it. Because he felt so good. So good. And he was so nice.

  So Cindy stood there, for just one extra moment, letting him hold her close, letting his chin touch the top of her head. She took in the wonder of it all, and all the time berating herself for her silly, fairy tale feelings. She would enjoy and remember this moment, but she would not let him kiss her again.

  ****

  Behind her, Prince smiled, and didn’t move a muscle, except for the gentle kiss he placed on the top of her head. He didn’t push his luck.

  When they entered the living room a few moments later, Connie rose from the center of the couch. On one end of the couch, her daughter Jasmine slept quietly, nestled in a blanket. On the other end, Hannah the toddler sat nestled in another blanket, but she was not asleep. She looked like she had been crying, and her cheeks were red.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Connie,” Cindy whispered, scooping up Hannah and feeling her head. “Was it a hard night? She’s not looking too good.”

  He watched her cuddle the baby. She looked warm and loving. The sight did something to his heart. “Hi, Hannikins, you okay?”

  “She slept for a while, but woke up a few minutes ago saying she didn’t feel good. A little fever maybe. And some tears. We just hung out for the last little while. You want me to stay?”

  “No, of course not, Connie. Probably just a little bug. We’ll be fine. I really appreciate you taking care of them.”

  “Well, I will go then.” Her eyes danced. “But I want a full report tomorrow.”

  Cindy laughed and stroked Hannah’s forehead. “You got it, girlfriend.”

  “Your ears ready to burn, buster?” She said with a laugh to Princeton.

  “I’ll get the water buckets ready to put out the fire. Can I drive you home?”

  Connie had picked up Jasmine, who was sound asleep and limp like a sack of potatoes.

  “Thanks for the gentlemanly offer, but home is just two doors away. We’re fine.” With a wink, she was out the door.

  “Nice woman,” Prince said, turning to Cindy, who had popped a digital thermometer out of a drawer and had aimed it toward Hannah’s ear with the smoothness of a ballet dancer.

  “Fever?”

  “A little one. Not high. Nothing to worry about. Kids get these things. They come and go. Usually they pass with no great fanfare.”

  Hannah had fallen asleep on her shoulder.

  “What can I do to help?” The thought was a laugh, really, as all he knew about kids wouldn’t fill up the head of a pin. The truth was, he was close to terrified of kids. Baffled. How do you talk to them? Figure out what they need? What do you do when they cry? And a sick one? Was it contagious? Maybe he should leave. But for some reason, he just didn’t want to leave just yet.

  Prince could see she was thinking. She had already slipped out of her shoes, and he had the strong feeling her feet had been hurting on their walk from the car, much as she had tried to hide it.

  She sat, leaned over and rubbed her toes. “Well, if you’re serious, there is something you could do to help me out. Hold this one.” She handed out the sleeping child before he could say a word. “I want to go up and check on the other one and make sure there’s no high fever brewing, and my feet are actually hurting too much to lug this one up and down the stairs.”

  He opened his mouth to object, to valiantly explain he didn’t know one end from the other when it came to kids. They might as well be a different species. He didn’t know how to hold one.

  But suddenly he was holding one. Right side up. Cindy had moved fast. Prince gulped, eyes wide and chest tight.

  Thermometer in hand, she tiptoed up the steps barefoot, leaving him openmouthed, with an armload of sleeping child. Almost sleeping.

  The toddler turned her head when she was resettled into a new shoulder, and like radar, Hannah sensed this was no familiar shoulder. The little head lifted up, and looked Prince in the face with puzzlement, her cute little brow furrowed.

  His first thought was “Boy, is she adorable.”

  After regarding his stranger’s face for one split second, Hannah opened her mouth and let out a wail that would shake apples from the trees.

  His second thought was “Boy, does she had a set of lungs!” He winced. She was loud enough to be a one-baby national alert system. What should he do? He stood, paralyzed.

  Everything happened at once. From upstairs, Cindy yelled, “It’s okay, honey, I’m coming.”

  Hannah opened her mouth again to start the second verse of her wail. At that instant, her little body decided to let everyone know the type of “bug” she suffered had begun in her digestive system.

  She vomited. Like Vesuvius erupting, the little child emptied her entire stomach. All over Prince. The stinky mess hit his Armani tie and shirt, ran down the lapels of his silk, handmade suit jacket, his formerly well-creased pants, his imported Italian leather shoes. How could so much come out of one little kid?

  Afraid to move, he stood very still. Was he in shock? Maybe. He really didn’t know. He looked up, and saw Cindy coming down the steps, a look of horror on her face. He looked down, and saw the cherry-cheeked little cherub who had just barfed all over him.

  Hannah smiled up at him now, the wailing stopped.

  “I think she’s feeling better,” Prince said softly, still looking down into the wide damp eyes of the toddler. “Hi, Hannah. You feeling better?”

  “I’m so s-sorry!” Cindy stammered. “I had no idea she would do that.”

  “I certainly hope you didn’t. That would be a cruel trick. Probably neither did she. No fault here. But truthfully,” he said, holding out Hannah to Cindy’s waiting arms, “You’re going to have to direct me here. I’m overwhelmed. I’m out of my league and afraid to move. The stuff is going everywhere.”

  He stood woodenly, his arms straight out to his sides, a sodden man with baby puke from collar to toe.

  Cindy stood stiffly too, open mouthed, not knowing
what to think or do. And then, she started laughing.

  Her reaction was obviously that kind of nervous laughter, the kind that got you into trouble as a kid when something struck you funny while in church, or in the middle of history class. The kind of helpless laughter you just couldn’t stop, no matter how inappropriate, or what the cost would be.

  So he couldn’t really be mad. Especially because she kept trying to get serious again, kept making attempts to stop the laughter. And then Hannah started laughing too. She did feel better. And he did, he supposed, make a pretty ridiculous sight, he decided as he stood there, thinking over his options. If you can’t beat them, join them. He started laughing too.

  Price was very glad he kept his gym bag in the car. After they came to their senses, he went into the bathroom with a trash bag, and Cindy sprinted barefoot down the two blocks to the car and brought it back. He stripped off every piece of clothing, and washed himself in Cindy’s tiny shower. The pink bar of soap smelled just like her, and certainly better than the baby puke, even though far different from his usual scent. Prince emerged a few minutes later in his navy blue Princeton sweat suit and Nike sneakers. The trash bag was carried at his side, tied up tight.

  Hannah had been tucked finally into bed.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Princeton. Give me the bag, and I’ll have those clothes cleaned.”

  “Not on your life, pretty lady. These clothes have had it. No use in even attempting to redeem them.”

  Cindy looked glum, her lips downturned. “I feel awful. How much do I owe you?”

  He laughed. “For the clothes? Nothing. See, there are good things about being rich. I have plenty just like them.”

  “Well, I am sorry.” She shook her head. “See what I mean about different worlds? Yours is about fine dining and fancy clothes, mine is about baby messes and fairy tales.”

  She was right, he admitted to himself, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. The baby stuff, most of all, made him shudder. He thought about her level of responsibility, her calm head in times of pressure. What was he doing here? He looked at the plastic bag sitting by his feet. His clothes. He could turn and go right out that door, no questions asked. In fact, the look on her face told him she expected it.

  Prince couldn’t leave. He was stuck. For better or worse, he was staying. “New experiences, that’s all. Did you enjoy the restaurant?”

  She looked up warily. “Yes. Of course,” she said seriously. Then she grinned. “And did you enjoy the baby puke?”

  “Very funny. I wouldn’t want to make a hobby about it. But I lived through it. Didn’t I?” He put his hands on his hips. “Did I do okay for a guy who got his first hit with baby fluids?”

  Cindy got serious again, smile disappearing. “Well, yes, actually you did. Thank you for being so nice. So understanding. Hannah—”

  “Is adorable. I think it was a bonding experience. Kinda.” Cindy had a haunted look about her, and he wanted it to go away. More than anything, he wanted to see her smile again. “Though putting food in would be much more fun than watching it come out.”

  He was rewarded by her smile, though she looked tired suddenly. “Well, I owe you.”

  “Yes, you do. And you will pay me back next Saturday. Not with money. With your presence. I have family season tickets to hear the Philadelphia Orchestra. You have to come. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll go to the show, and have drinks after.”

  She frowned. For a minute, she looked like an animal, caught in a trap, no way out. Her face was wary, though her tone was light. “Doesn’t sound like much of a payback, to be taken to the orchestra.”

  “Ah, that’s because I didn’t give you all the facts. We’ll be attending with His Highness Hugh Highfield and his lively wife, Celia. My mother and father.” He watched her swallow hard.

  She shook her head. “Your parents? You want me to meet your parents? I cannot possibly do that.”

  “Sure you can. I dare you. Compared to this, it’ll be a walk in the park. My parents haven’t thrown up on anyone, ever.” He laughed.

  “That’s a relief,” she said. “But it’s just not a good idea. I’m not, I’m not the kind of date your folks would be expecting, I’m willing to bet. And like I said, I’ve been in that position before.”

  “My parents don’t choose who I date.” Even as he said it, his stomach turned. Because again, she was right. His parents did have a strong opinion about his life choices, despite his objections. The thought of this bothered him more than he’d like to face. But the time had come to face it. “I want you to come with me, Cindy. Please?”

  Her eyes opened wide at his plea.

  Prince could see she was weakening, so he made an assumed close. He picked up his gym bag, and his trash bag, and headed out the door.

  “I’ll be here at seven,” he said over his shoulder. “This will be another dressy event, and that dress is absolutely fine. But get shoes that fit. Librarians can’t run around the library with blisters. And tell Morgan I’m sorry I missed him. And I hope my girl Hannah is feeling better in the morning.”

  He pulled the door shut, and heard the lock catch. His bouncy step down the street was not entirely due to his sneakers. For some reason, he felt taller. For some reason, he felt strong. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw her silhouette framed in the window. She was watching him.

  Good, he thought.

  He dropped the trash bag into a garbage can along the curb, climbed into the Aston Martin with a smile, and drove away.

  Chapter Twelve

  “So the Prince of Puke passed the test, I guess?” Connie laughed so hard there were tears running down her face. “Oh man,” she gasped, running a fingertip under each eye. “You are making my makeup run, and I did an extra special job on it this morning.”

  Cindy furrowed her brow, as she passed the credit card over the counter to the clerk at the shoe store. “Yes, I guess he did. And it was quite a test. Couldn’t have planned a tougher one. Hannah is second to none with that projectile vomiting thing. The poor man was covered.”

  Cindy thanked the clerk, and took the shoe bag. She had bought new black pumps, which she could not really afford. But even more, she knew, she couldn’t afford to abuse her feet again. They fit great, and had been half price, which she grabbed onto as a consolation.

  Connie had been all for it. “You need grown up shoes, Cinderella,” she quipped. And then she had plied Cindy for every detail of her night out with “the prince”, which she had dubbed him.

  The Sunday shopping trip had been combined with an excursion to the park for the kids, who were soon swinging and climbing themselves into euphoria in the sunlight while the adults chatted on the park bench nearby.

  “Give him a chance, Cindy,” Connie said. “He’s not George. Not all guys are bad. Not all guys are irresponsible, weak, unable to stick to commitments.”

  “Hey, I don’t have a thing against guys. Don’t make it sound that way. I’m sure there are good ones out there. It’s just, not in my life. The reality. My dad, my uncle, the kid’s dad Jimmy, your ex, George. For one reason or another, they just don’t stay around.” She wished the reality wasn’t true. “I just see the women struggle so. And a big part of the struggle is that romantic belief Mr. Right is going to come along on his white horse. He’ll whisk you up to the castle where you will fritter away the rest of your days in opulent joy and serenity.”

  “You don’t want the castle? Tell the truth.”

  Cindy smiled. “I like comfort and security like anyone else. When it’s real. Not a fairy tale. I believed in that happily ever after thing before, Connie, as you well know. And coming back to reality was a very painful path.”

  Her heart quickened at the thought. She was getting into dangerous territory. Even the memory of his smile sent a warm shiver down her spine. Was this wise? Boundaries, realistic expectations, all the psychobabble buzz words filled her head. Could she keep things in balance? Or was she ri
sking the emotional roller coaster she had ridden before in her life, with disastrous consequences? She looked across the grass, seeing the kids playing peacefully on the swings.

  “But you did make it back, Cindy. Maybe even knowing yourself better. Maybe knowing better what is important to you.” Connie sighed. “It’s okay to want the prince, Cindy, if that’s what it comes to. And it’s also okay to love the life you’ve built for yourself and the kids. You don’t want to escape it anymore.”

  Cindy nodded. “I do love my life, and the good I do here. Hiding out in a castle isn’t my style. Not when there are so many kids down here who need homes to live in, food to eat, medicine to be well. I’d rather help those kids in some way, even if it’s just giving them the joy of a good story and a chance to laugh.”

  Connie’s gaze met hers. “Me too, when you say it that way. My work at the clinic is what I’m meant to do, even on the hardest day. I couldn’t give it up. Though a like-minded prince by my side wouldn’t be refused.” She sighed. “I only hope I can keep doing what I do. We are in sad shape at the clinic, Cindy. We need so many repairs, and funds are so low. Our medical personnel have been so willing to volunteer their time, but without adequate supplies, they get frustrated and lose their enthusiasm.”

  “The city grant? Did it come through?”

  “Only a token one. Things are tight all over.”

  “We’ll find a way to make ends meet. We always do,” Cindy said softly.

  “On a whole different topic, I forgot to tell you I met Mr. Tall Dark and Dangerous who has been hanging around the neighborhood. In the laundromat the other night.”

  “Didn’t turn out to be your dream guy in disguise?”

  “Not hardly.” Connie made a face. “Guys who hang around the laundromat without doing any wash spook me. Talkative though. Asked a lot of questions about the neighborhood. Said he’d just moved here, though I didn’t quite figure out where.”

  Cindy shivered with a little flash of apprehension, but brushed it off. Would she ever get over her fear of Jimmy’s old life coming back to haunt the kids? “Probably his pick-up technique. Did he ask you out?”