8. Ariella
When Charlie pulled me aside earlier in the day and confronted me about Alex and his resemblance to his father, I never got the chance to tell her why I had kept everything a secret. With the coyote looming in the tree line, safety took precedence over her desire to know the truth. After everything that had happened, I held on to the hope that she had forgotten. But, nope. She was like a dog with a bone.
When Patrick left, all eyes were on me. Savannah smiled at me as if she was in on a secret while everyone else, except Patrick’s parents, looked confused about his abrupt departure.
“What did I miss?” Jessie asked. “So, she didn’t marry the guy. What’s the big deal?”
Jerry, ever the astute one, says, “I take it the two of you had a past. I wonder why we weren’t briefed on that not-so-little detail.”
Savannah barks out a laugh, “That’s putting it mildly.”
Jessie lightly punches Savannah’s shoulder, “You knew about them and didn’t say anything?”
Savannah rubs her arm. “Ow. That’s uncalled for. He told me about her on our way back from Windham Mountain.”
Savannah has known our history all this time?
“Now that Patrick knows that you aren’t married to Kiernan, can I finally tell him that he’s my dad? Pleeeease?” With that, every mouth drops open except for Patrick’s parents.
“Now that I didn’t know!” Savannah exclaims, still chipper.
I bury my face in my hands, the food all but forgotten. I feel a warm, motherly embrace and look up to see Charlie behind me. “Why don’t we go get some fresh air?” I nod, needing the escape.
Savannah grins at me and says, “We’ll keep an eye on Alex for you.”
I don’t know what to say, so Charlie responds, “Thank you, Savannah. That would be great.”
She leads me outside, where the temperatures are just above freezing. She grabs two coats before we leave the mudroom and hands me one. I slip it on, already feeling warmer. There’s a small swing on the porch, and she gestures for me to sit, taking the seat beside me once I’ve gotten myself situated.
“I apologize for verbally sucker-punching you,” she says.
“I can’t fault you. You did give me the option not to respond. But honestly, I’ve been tired of keeping the secret. I’ve been holding it in for nine and half years,” I tell her.
“That couldn’t have been easy. For you, or for Alex.” She wraps her jacket tighter around her body, but I know it isn’t because of the cold. It’s because she’s holding something in.
“Please go ahead and ask your question. I know you want to.” I give her a wry grin to let her know it’s truly okay with me.
“Once again, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. I promise there will be no judgment.”
I scoff a little. There’s always judgment, even if people don’t mean to do it. I wave my hand in a circular motion, gesturing for her to ask away.
Charlie takes a deep breath. “Why didn’t you come back to Patrick? And why did you fake a marriage to a man you don’t love?”
“You went straight for the jugular,” I tease, but she doesn’t smile.
“My son waited years for you to come back, always praying and holding on to hope even after what he read in the newspapers. I think he just wanted answers, and frankly, so do I. That little boy in there is my grandson, and you kept him away from me and his grandpa as much as you did his father. That’s not fair, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you had a very good reason for doing so.”
“I did,” I squeak out. I’ve always been a confident woman, facing down adversaries in the political arena, but I feel like a small child getting scolded for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar right now. Charlie isn’t wrong to be upset.
“You did, what? Have a good reason? Because I’d love to hear if you’re willing to share.”
“I should probably explain it to Patrick first,” I hedge.
Surprisingly, she bobs her head in agreement. “You probably should. But he’s not here right now. I am.”
“Knock. Knock. It’s just me,” says Don from the other side of the screen door. “Is there room for one more, or is this a ‘ladies only’ moment?” he asks politely. He may be a tough Navy Seal, but I can feel the warmth and love for his family.
“You may as well join the party if I’m going to be spilling my guts,” I say as lightheartedly as I can manage.
“Oh, goodie. I love a good gossip session!” he jests.
When Patrick’s team members press their faces against the screen door, hoping to get in on the action, Charlie speaks up. “If you three know what’s good for you, you’ll turn right around and go back to the dining room to finish your dinner!” sounding very motherly.
Jessie says louder than she ought to, “We can just go back to the bunkhouse and listen in on the audio.”
Charlie points her finger at Jessie, “You will do no such thing. In fact…” she stands up, pulls the camera and microphone from the hanging potted plant, and throws it on the ground. Before she can step on it, Jerry yells, “STOP! That’s like three grand worth of equipment!”
“Oh. Well then, you better take it and go back inside,” she says with a smirk. The screen door opens, and nothing more than Jerry’s arm sticks through, his palm out. She places the device in his hand and tells them that there’s cheesecake in the fridge. It doesn’t take much coaxing after that to get them to leave.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were going to tell all in an exposé of royal affairs,” says Don jokingly.
“How much of our relationship did Patrick tell you about?” I ask, trying to gauge where to start.
“Everything,” Charlie answers.
“Everything?” I ask.
“Everything, which is why I was baffled to find out you were married to the Prince of Brachha in the first place. At least I know why you didn’t tie the knot,” she says.
“That’s part of it, but not the entire reason. When I returned home, our palace had just been bombed. It was the start of a small rebellion in which a minority of the people wanted to have a say in how our country was run.”
“A democracy,” she says, understanding.
“Yes. Since then, there have been a few minor attacks, but they’ve always been relatively benign. No one has ever been hurt, at least not until this most recent event. There has only been damage to the property which is fixed easily enough. It was chaotic when I came home because this was such a new development. It took time to rebuild, re-establish peace, and start talks with their leaders. We’ve been doing it in secret for almost a decade. The need for democracy generally occurs when a country is in turmoil, not flourishing like Cothena always has. But we also understand the need to give the people a say in what happens…within limits.”
“Okay. Go on,” Charlie says, with Don sitting on the corner railing.
“I have been betrothed to Kiernan since my mom first discovered she was having a girl. Kiernan and I have always been friends, but we have never felt a connection that would allow us to be anything more. He’s a playboy at heart and never wanted to be tied down. But when I returned home only to find out I was pregnant, he offered to help.”
“How does faking a marriage help,” Don asks gruffly.
“If my mother had discovered what happened in the Bahamas, Patrick’s career would have been ruined. He loves what he does, and I wasn’t about to be the one to take that away from him,” I say, slightly defensive. Something tells me this family appreciates a little backbone, even if mine feels like rubber.
“Was that just your choice to make?” Charlie asks gently.
“It was. Patrick wasn’t there, and I didn’t have him to lean on. I did the best I could with what I had to work with. I love my mother fiercely, but she would have done anything to bridge the gap between Brachha and Cothena. It was a tiny fissure at the time, but she wanted to ensure it didn’t grow.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Don asks.
“If you mean that my mother may have had Patrick taken out for good? Maybe. She’s grown colder over the years, and I thought it was a real possibility at the time. As much as I love my mother, she has always put Cothena above love. Kiernan recognized that before I did, which is why he suggested we ‘elope.’ My mother was upset she didn’t get the big hoopla of a wedding but happy that things worked out as she had planned. Kiernan has brown hair and blue eyes like Patrick, so it was easy to pass Alex off as his own. My mother made her assumptions about why we needed to elope, and we let her believe them.”
“It’s all making sense now. You faked a marriage to Kiernan to protect not only Alex from public scrutiny but potentially my son’s life.” Charlie’s eyes well with tears as understanding dawns on her.
There’s a loud scream off in the distance, an echo of someone in despair. It hurts my heart to know that it’s Patrick. “Should I go to him?” I ask.
“No. He’ll be back. I promise,” Charlie declares. “He’s just having his ‘come to Jesus’ moment and letting it all out. It was quite a shock for him to realize you weren’t married after all these years. He would have risked it all to come to you if he had known.”
“Is he angry with me?” I ask. Don and Charlie share a look, and it’s not one I like.
“Can I be honest with you, Ari?” Charlie says, shortening my name like Patrick has always done.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I tell her truthfully.
“How would you feel if you were in his shoes? You’ve been lying not only to the world but also to him for nine years. Lying to us and to the people that matter. Wouldn’t you be upset?”
“Yes.”
“Then allow him his anger. Allow him to work through it. Allow him to process his emotions without pressure or condemnation. He’s going to need space. Just be ready to listen when he’s ready to talk.” She puts her arms around me and embraces me fully, and I can’t help the tears that stream down my cheeks. We sit there like that for a long time, Don patting my shoulder before he heads back inside.
When Patrick’s shadow can be seen off in the distance, Charlie turns to me. “Remember what I said. Let him come to you, and don’t press. He’s angry and hurt.” She stands up to leave us alone, “I’ll let the two of you have your moment while I go hug my grandson.”
I squeeze her hand before she goes inside. I must sit there for nearly another ten minutes before Patrick finally makes it back to the house, his chest heaving from the exertion of his run. I’m sitting there so quietly that he doesn’t notice me until he’s almost to the top step of the porch stairs. When he does finally see me, he comes over and sits down next to me on the swing. He uses the tips of his toes to start moving us back and forth, almost like he’s trying to lull me to sleep.
I do as his mother asked and try to give him the space he needs. I know it’s time to have our heart-to-heart when he asks, “Is he mine?”