by Karina Halle
“Oh, sweetie,” my mother says, putting her hand on my cheek. “Don’t look so glum. I won’t say a word. I promise.”
I give her a quick smile of thanks but now find it impossible to shake off this feeling. There goes my giddiness. Shot down by reality in seconds flat.
I sigh, and we walk toward the door. I’m going to have to talk to Harrison about this when I get a chance. So far we’ve been so wrapped up in how we feel about each other and our own obstacles that I forgot that we might really hurt Monica by doing this, and that by doing this—sneaking around and keeping it a secret—we might be awful people. I know our conversation was meant to be between us, but even so I feel like Harrison should know what she said.
My mother rings the doorbell, and Agatha appears. We’re led into the house and to the lounge where Monica and Eddie have gathered. I don’t see Harrison, which makes me feel both disappointed and relieved.
“I’m so glad you were able to come,” Monica says.
“Please have a seat,” Eddie says, gesturing. “Agatha will bring you something to drink. What will you have?”
We settle in our seats, and both my mom and I ask for a glass of wine. My mother didn’t drink last time because of her medication, but this time seems different. My eyes are boring into hers, hoping she’ll give me some explanation, but she’s smiling and fixated on the royals. I just hope she can handle that one glass.
“So I was talking to Harrison last night,” Eddie says to me.
Oh god. Oh god.
“And he had mentioned that perhaps the both of us should get out of the house more. Can’t say I didn’t agree with him.”
“Speak for yourself,” Monica says. “I am quite happy in this glass-walled castle.” She gestures with her glass of sparkling water to the view.
Eddie chuckles and squeezes her hand. “Okay. Then I will speak for myself. Harrison said you mentioned a few places we could go, where we probably won’t be photographed, or at the very least, won’t be harassed by people. I understand a few photos are inevitable; it’s more about being given space and privacy.”
Harrison didn’t mention the lake, did he? Because that’s not exactly a good place for the royals to go. I mean, we could have gotten in trouble yesterday. It’s only luck that we didn’t.
Agatha hands me my wine, and I have a sip first, swallowing before I say, “I know of a few hikes and walks and quiet places to go. Some more adventurous than others.”
“See, darling,” Eddie says to Monica. “Doesn’t even have to be a hike. Just a walk. I think it would be good for you to get out of the house.”
“You know,” I tell them, “even if you wanted to look around town, I don’t think it would be the end of the world. I’m not sure if as much media is still here, and anyway, with James and Harrison, I don’t see how anyone could get close to you. And the locals, as zany as they are, won’t harass you, I know that much.”
“Are you sure about that?” Monica asks glumly. “My mother has been following the news. She says she’s seen a few interviews with the locals complaining about us being here. It’s more than just some article in the local newspaper.”
“But that comes with the territory,” Eddie says.
“And people complain about everything,” I tell her. “No one here likes change. That’s why they move here. To get away from all the change and come to a place where they can just be. But they also don’t realize, everyone needs to change. You can’t stay stagnant forever. You have to evolve and become more than just a static figure in your own life.”
Monica frowns, probably wondering why I’m getting philosophical all of a sudden. “Is that why you moved here?”
“Well, for the job.”
“That’s why I wanted to move here,” my mother speaks up, already having finished half the glass of wine. “Living in Victoria, I felt too pressured to improve myself, to fix myself. Coming here, people leave you alone. It’s an island in every sense of the word, letting you yourself become an island too. But I’ve come to realize, ever since you moved in, that you can’t hide and shrink for the rest of your life. You have to embrace change and welcome it, or you’ll never get better. If there’s no push, there is no growth, and that is the damn truth.”
I stare at my mother, openmouthed. I’ve never heard her say anything remotely like this before. I mean, this is pure Grade A therapy-speak here.
She gives me a quick look. “I’m allowed to have my own epiphanies, Piper,” she says. “The last few years, the both of us have become so tightly wound that we’ve become dependent on each other. It’s not just me being dependent on you. It’s the other way around too. Only now, with you spreading your wings a bit, I’ve been able to find my own footing. You worry about me, sweetie, and I don’t blame you. But you have to let me live and find my own growth too. On my own.”
Silence fills the room. My eyes start to water. It means so much to hear my mother say that, as shocking as it is, and especially with an audience.
“You are so very right, Evelyn,” Monica says gently. “I think we can all relate to that. I know I can. I am changing, in the biggest ways”—she rests her hands on her small bump—“to the smallest ways. And because I’m changing, I knew that would make me an easier target. But being here so far has made me realize I can’t hide forever. As much as I want to, as much as it truly has been needed to find myself, to rekindle our relationship as a couple, to prepare for the baby, as much as stepping back has brought such peace into our souls, I know that peace is fuel for the future. That it will help us handle what will be thrown our way. I can’t be afraid of change any more than you can.”
“So is that a yes to the hike or not?” Eddie asks.
We all laugh.
“Sure,” Monica says. “And Piper is right, maybe a walk through town will do us good. I’ve walked through fire; a little stroll can’t hurt us.” She bites her lip and looks down at her stomach. “Maybe it will be a good opportunity to tell the news.”
Eddie lets out a low whistle. “You can still hide your bump. Let’s think about that one first, because once word breaks out, then we’ll never be left alone.” He looks to me. “You say the locals won’t harass us, but when there’s big money for photos of a baby bump, things can change.”
“I know. But maybe you need to have faith in the place you moved to. Believe me, it’s hard at times, but I still know that most people are good. Once you feel comfortable here, once you start showing your face more, you’ll feel less like an outsider. They’ll see you as a local, as one of them—as much as you can be, anyway.”
Eddie seems to mull that over. I don’t know what the right answer is here, but I do know that there is a change in the air for every single one of us, change that has us second-guessing what we want and what the right thing to do is. But things are happening. Sooner or later we will all make our own leaps into the unknown and hopefully have enough faith to survive them.
Speaking of my own change, Harrison is still nowhere to be found. I don’t see James either, which I guess means Eddie and Monica fully trust my mother and me, which is nice. We’re no longer a threat; we’re actually their friends.
And look what you’re doing to your friend, I remind myself.
The guilt is hard to ignore.
Dinner turns out to be roasted Cornish game hen, which Agatha whipped up. Naturally, it’s delicious and lemony, and Agatha insists it’s an old family recipe on her mother’s side.
My mother has had two glasses of wine now and is a little loopy, but other than that, she’s been behaving herself, though she’s talking a lot.
“So, Piper,” Eddie says between mouthfuls. “Are you happy to have summer vacation, or are you itching to go back to work?”
“A little of both,” I admit.
“Piper never gets bored,” my mother speaks up, even though that’s totally untrue. “She
reads a lot.”
“Oh. A fellow bibliophile,” Eddie says. “I love reading too. One good thing about stepping away from our royal duties is that I’ve found so much more time to read. What kind of books do you read?”
Here it comes. The question that every romance reader gets, followed by the internal struggle of whether to tell the truth, tell a lie, or water the truth down a bit. The romance stigma is still real, even with it being the most popular genre.
I decide to go for the truth.
“Romance,” I tell him, straightening in my seat. “Lots of romance. Historical, contemporary, romantic suspense. If there’s kissing and sex and swooning, I’m on it.”
“Ah,” he says. “I’m going to assume that’s more than Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“Fifty Shades opened up the doors for the whole industry. It got people reading. You can’t ever fault that.”
“Well, I like romance,” Monica says. “Sophie Kinsella is one of my favorites.”
I want to point out that even though I love Kinsella’s books too, they’re more women’s fiction (oh, how I dislike that term) than romance. But it doesn’t matter.
“Did you know that Piper has a podcast?” my mother suddenly says. “It’s about romance.”
My eyes go big. Oh my god, she didn’t.
She knows that’s a secret, doesn’t she?
Or maybe I’ve just never had any friends to keep the secret from.
“Mom,” I warn her. “Maybe you shouldn’t have any more wine.”
“Why?” she cries out defensively. “I’m fine, Piper. And why can’t I tell them about your podcast?” She smiles at Monica, thinking she’s helping. “It’s a romance podcast, you see.” Then she looks at me quizzically. “Actually, I was just talking about your podcast earlier, and I think I got the name wrong. It’s Romancing the Podcast, right? That’s what I told them.”
If my eyes were wide before, now they are practically falling out of my head. “What?” I cry out. “What are you talking about? Who is them?”
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
“Them? Didn’t I tell you?”
“Tell me what?” I’m practically shouting. It’s then that I notice Harrison enter the room, looking grave. He meets my eyes for a moment and frowns, and I can’t read the look in his eyes. It’s like he’s worried about me and also worried about something else.
He pauses by Eddie while I wait for my mother to explain what the fuck is going on. It’s one thing to have her admit that I have a podcast in front of Monica and Eddie, especially when I actually did a podcast about them; it’s another to give the name so that they can check it out and allude to telling some “them” about it.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” she says, her smile faltering a little. “I thought I told you. I swear I did. Maybe you didn’t hear me.” She looks apologetically at Monica and Eddie. “Someone called me earlier today asking questions about Piper. They were very interested in her. They said they were from some news site, I don’t remember who. I should have written it down.”
“Who? Why? Why would they ask questions about me?”
I glance at Harrison, who is staring at me with a grim expression. Shit. Does he know what this is about?
Icy fingers work their way through my gut, that sinking feeling.
“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought I was helping. They sounded so nice. I told them all about you, about your podcast, but I think I got the name wrong.”
But she got the name right.
And podcast aside, why the hell is someone asking my mother about me?
“You told them all about me?” I ask incredulously.
“No, not everything,” she says. “Good heavens, I know you’ve had your share of troubles with me and your past. I didn’t say anything personal. I kept it all very light. I even told them that if they wanted to know more, they would have to talk to you. I gave them your number, but I’m guessing they didn’t call.”
My blood is whooshing so loud in my head that I barely hear her when she says, “I’m sorry, Piper. I thought I told you earlier. Guess I was so distracted about everything.”
Monica is watching me carefully. “I suppose the real question here is why someone wants to interview Piper. No offense, but if nothing happened after that article in the paper, I can’t see why someone would take an interest in you now.”
Harrison clears his throat loudly, bringing all eyes to him as he stands by Eddie at the head of the table. “I’m afraid I know the answer to that question.”
He gives me a look that says he’s sorry, and those icy fingers are practically turning me inside out.
Oh. No.
This is going to be bad.
“Well, what is it?” Eddie asks. “What’s going on?”
Harrison rubs his lips together and takes in a deep breath. That admission of vulnerability alone causes Monica to sit on the edge of her seat, her expression ping-ponging back and forth between us.
“There were some photographs published on Facebook this morning,” Harrison says. “I didn’t discover them until they were shared on TMZ.” He adds, looking mildly ashamed, “I get news alerts from them.”
“What photographs?” Monica asks.
But somehow I already know. I already know what he’s going to say, and things are about to get so much worse.
“Yesterday,” Harrison begins, “Piper took me into town. Except that she didn’t take me to town. She took me to a lake.”
NO. NO. NO.
“Okay,” Eddie says slowly, clearly confused.
“We went swimming at this lake,” Harrison says. “We were only gone for a couple of hours. Maybe we were in the lake for one.” He licks his lips and looks at me, and I can see how hard this is going to be on him, let alone me. I’m practically gripping the edge of the table. “The lake seems private, but there are some houses at the end of it. I guess someone in one of those houses was nearby and we didn’t see them. They took photos of us.”
“And? So?” Eddie says. Then he chuckles, “Were you naked or something?”
Harrison swallows. “I was.”
“Oh,” Monica says softly. She looks at me, her brows up, but doesn’t say anything.
“So they got a naked picture of you,” Eddie says carefully, glossing over the fact that Harrison was naked around me. “That’s not the end of the world.”
“Eddie,” Monica says, giving him a pointed look. “Harrison was naked. In a lake. With Piper. What do you think was happening?”
Eddie’s brow furrows as he thinks that over, then his eyes go wide. He looks at Harrison with a mixture of shock and, well, amusement, of all things. “You . . .” Eddie then nods at me. “And you?”
I keep my mouth shut. This is Harrison’s home turf right now, and I’m not about to open my mouth and make things worse.
“How long has this been going on?” Monica asks. She’s not looking at me, which hurts.
“Not long,” Harrison says, looking uncomfortable. “But I’m afraid our attempts to keep it a secret from you and the world haven’t worked. They took photos of us in the lake, looking particularly, uh, amorous.”
I put my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.
Pictures. Of me and Harrison. In the lake.
Having sex.
I mean, thank god they wouldn’t have been able to see anything since we were hidden by the water, but even so, the pictures are everywhere now. TMZ!
“I suppose they identified the both of you,” Eddie says.
“The original Facebook post was posted by someone who lives on the lake, angry that tourists were, uh, having sex in the lake. Though actually I feel they were more angry about us being in the lake in general, since we weren’t supposed to be there.”
“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t
take him to Lake Maxwell, did you?” my mother asks. “You know Bert has been very vocal about teenagers not going there.” Never mind the fact that we obviously aren’t teens, which makes it even worse. Adults who should have known better.
“Then,” Harrison continues with a weary sigh, “someone identified the two of us. I hate to say it, Piper, but it was that troublemaking bitch.”
My mother nearly spits out her mouthful of wine, collapsing into a coughing fit.
“Who?” Monica exclaims, looking just as shocked that Harrison called someone a bitch, as perfectly fitting as it is, considering I know he’s talking about Amy.
“It’s not important,” Harrison says. “But they IDed us, and the rest is history.” He clears his throat. “I understand if you both need a moment to come to terms with this,” he says, looking between Eddie and Monica. “I also understand that I may lose my job over this, and I am prepared to handle the consequences.”
“No,” I cry out. “No, Monica, Eddie. Please. Don’t fire him. He’s not in the wrong. I’m the one who took him to this lake, I’m the one who invited him. It was all me.”
Eddie gives me a long look, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Piper. I appreciate you vouching for Harrison, but it takes two to tango, and I find it impossible to think that you tricked him in some way, shape, or form.” He looks at Harrison. “I’m not going to fire you, you arse,” he says. “You’re a grown man. And you’re a good friend. I trust you with my life, which means I trust you in everything. There are no rules about who you can date or become romantically entangled with. You know that. Or perhaps you don’t, because it’s never come up. All the more reason why you probably needed this to happen.”
Eddie then glances at me. “And I’m sure you knew the risks too, being with a public figure. I can’t say I’m surprised that this is happening to you, but I’m still sorry for it all the same.”