Chapter 11 Alexander
Alexander
Juniper’s hand is not the one I’d envisioned holding on this ride, not that it isn’t nice in its own way.
She’s a sweet girl and I’m glad I can help her.
Of course, my superhero skills will be useless if something happens.
I know that. She knows that. But here we are.
I’m a hundred percent sure I wouldn’t be holding Ivy’s hand right now, anyway.
My right hand is free, but she has kept herself busy with Peter on the far side of our capsule.
“This goes way slower than a Ferris wheel,” Juniper observes.
“It does. But we will only go around one time,” I tell her.
“That stinks. I bet you go around on a Ferris wheel fifty times.”
“Well, I believe it takes thirty minutes to go around this once. So we would be here for quite some time if we went around fifty times.”
“Twenty-five hours. That’s over a full day!”
She is a smart girl. I lean over toward her ear and whisper, “And there’s no bathroom.”
Juniper giggles and turns back toward the view.
I feel Ivy’s eyes on me and turn my head toward her with a smile.
I’m stunned at how beautiful she is. The sun streaming into the capsule makes her skin glow and her hair shine with tiny stripes of gold.
I have to get to know her. I have to shoot my shot with her before her vacation’s over and she’s gone.
“Will you point out all the best things to see from here?” Juniper asks.
“I’ll be glad to. Obviously, there’s Large Robert,” I say, pointing toward Big Ben.
Juniper laughs. “Peter, come over here. Mr. Henry is about to give us the best tour.”
“And highly accurate, don’t forget highly accurate,” I play-whisper to her.
Peter is followed by the rest of the family. “I already saw everything there is to see,” he says, looking a little underwhelmed.
“Did you see Large Robert?” Juniper says with a raised eyebrow, making me laugh.
“Large Robert? What the heck are you talking about?” Peter looks skeptical.
Juniper points to Big Ben and giggles again. “Show us something else, Mr. Henry.”
I wasn’t prepared for a show, but if some sort of lunatic tour will make the kids laugh and possibly endear me to their aunt, then so be it.
“If you look past Large Robert, you’ll see Buckingham Palace.”
“That’s where the King lives,” Juniper provides.
“He actually lives in Clarence House,” I tell her. “Buckingham Palace houses hundreds of male deer and thousands of pigs.”
The kids look up at me in confusion. The joke has not landed with them, but the adults chuckle. I look up and meet Ivy’s eyes, and they are the most open and interested I’ve seen them be, yet. I can’t help the smile I send her way.
“Male deer are usually called bucks,” Val tells her children. “And ham comes from pigs. Buckingham palace.”
The kids are still unimpressed. Time to move on.
I continue touring them around London, trying to pepper in interesting facts with the humor, with varying degrees of success.
It all has me feeling oddly nostalgic. For London, yes, but also, for doing things with a family.
I didn’t realize it was something I missed.
My parents have been gone a while now, and before then, I wasn’t around much.
I’d left as quickly as I could. I had dreams and I was ready to pursue them.
Was this feeling a mix, though? Missing what I had and longing for it myself. I always assumed I’d have a family one day, but I’ve never pursued it. I certainly haven’t made it a priority.
I’m staring out in the direction of my secondary school, remembering my first role, Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, when I’m hit with a realization.
This is why my aunt has me on this wild goose chase.
Not because she was crackers, though she was, but because she always hated that I left.
She accused me of forgetting my roots, and trading in something established and beautiful for something frivolous and transient.
I don’t agree, but as I look around, I have to admit, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
I step to the side of the group and take a selfie with the view in the background, just in case this ends up being one of the stops Aunt Agnes has waiting for me.
“Are there not enough photos of yourself out there that you had to take a selfie?” Ivy smirks playfully as she approaches.
For a moment, I consider telling her about my aunt’s mission, but it sounds insane and I’m not sure that having an insane aunt adds points in my favor.
“I just wanted to see how I really look in my new glasses,” I joke.
“Have you not walked past a mirror since you got them?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Nope.”
“A placid lake?”
This makes me chuckle and I imagine threading my fingers into her wild curls. “I only visit turbulent bodies of water,” I say, stepping slightly closer.
Ivy tilts her head, considering. “Your glasses are perfect. In fact, I think I prefer you with them.” She moves as if she were going to walk away.
Like she wants to leave me to sit with that comment, which, judging from her facial expression, she meant as a compliment.
No way I’m leaving a compliment unanswered.
Not from her. I need to keep it light, though.
She doesn’t need to know that I could wax poetic about each and every one of her freckles.
That the shape of her is the inspiration for love songs.
I stop her with the lightest drag of my knuckles down her cheek. “Your face is perfect. In fact, I think I prefer you with it.”
Her laughter echoes around the capsule, and my heart soars with the sound.