Reluctantly Royal(24)

“Yes?” I opened the door wider and looked at my son. “What do you need?”

“Is Max gone?” He rubbed at his eyes.

“Yes, baby.” I walked over and sat down on his bed. “He had to go home.”

“I like him.” He rolled over and reached out for my hand. I wrapped his fingers with mine and squeezed gently.

“Me too.” It was true. I liked Max. More than I had liked anyone in a long time. Which was scary.

“Good.” He yawned. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

“Sure.” I kicked my shoes off and curled up next to him.

“Thanks.”

I kissed his head and pulled him against me. His legs were hitting another gangly, awkward phase, his ankles peeping out of his pants. It wouldn’t be long until he was taller than me.

His little fingers gripped my wrist and I smiled. He might be growing faster than a weed, but he was still my baby right now.

It wasn’t until the sunlight streaming through Marty’s window hit my face that I woke up. Marty was sprawled across the bed, his leg draped over mine and one arm thrown above his head. Carefully I extracted my body from his bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

I tiptoed down the hall and into my room, where I hurried into the shower. I still needed to figure out what I was going to do for the speech later that afternoon. I needed to wake up my father and see if he would be willing to do it, or if he would at least come stand with me in family solidarity.

I closed my eyes and let the water run over my face. There were only three outcomes that I could foresee. One, he would tell me to do it myself and go back to sleep. Two, he would insist on doing it himself and drunkenly slur through the whole ordeal. Or three, he would come and stand beside me while I handled the responsibility and then blame me for something not going right.

Getting dressed, I put on what I considered “lady” clothes. A skirt and blouse, dark, to show mourning, but I couldn’t resist wearing some kick-ass heels. I needed something to make me feel strong and pulled together, and those shoes were just the thing. Looking in the mirror, I nodded in approval. I pulled my hair up into a simple twist and chose very bland jewelry. Simple studs and the ring Granddad had given me.

Taking a deep breath, I walked down the hall and to my father’s side of the house. I could hear his snores before I even got to his room. I knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer so I knocked again. It would be best if he woke up before I went into the room. I’d learned the hard way as a child that you didn’t wake my father up from a bender by touching him. It always ended poorly.

“Father?” I opened the door a crack and knocked louder.

“Wha . . . ?” His groggy voice turned into a snore.

“Dad, I need to talk to you.” I peeked in the room and grimaced. He was sleeping on top of his blankets, still in his suit from the night before.

“Jesus.” He rolled over. “Can’t a man sleep in peace?”

“We have to address the township today about Granddad.” I stepped into the room, but stayed well out of reach.

“What? Why?” He didn’t roll over to look at me.

“It’s tradition for the family to address the township when the duke passes away. A sign of respect and solidarity.” I clasped my hands in front of me.

He grunted but didn’t say anything else.

“I was told that it typically falls to the new duke or duchess.”

“I’m not going out there to tell them something they already fucking know.” He growled and sat up. “You do it. You’re so set on being Duchess of Thysmer anyway.”

“I’m not trying to be duchess. I’m just trying to help.” I eased a little closer to the door. “There’s a lot to do.”

“No one asked you.” He kicked his shoes off angrily.

“It’s my duty as part of the family.” I opened the door a little and he threw his arm up to block the light.

“Listen to you.” He snorted. “ ‘Duty as part of the family.’ What bullshit. You’re from the poor side of town, Meredith. Putting on fancy clothes won’t change what we are, who we are.”

“This could be our chance to do more with our lives.” I took a deep breath.

“You sound like my father. Talking about making the best out of this ‘gift.’ ” He pulled his suit jacket off. “Get the hell out of here. Go do your duty.”

“Yes, sir.” I couldn’t keep the disgust out of my tone, but I doubted he heard it. He was already snoring when I closed the door. He would likely not remember any of our exchange. Just another thing for him to be angry about later. But for now I could just focus on the important tasks at hand.