Chapter Twenty-one #2
“The cook here is quite good,” Harold said, handing the paper over his empty plate to his brother.
Anders refused it. “The write-up is timid, with no mentions of anything to get the old man’s goat, but the picture of you and Mitch smiling at each other, obviously deeply in love—how dare you—will crank him up.
I say good. I hope he pops a fucking valve or two. ”
I chuckled softly while cutting into the fat slice of herring.
“Well, not to be too kind to a bigot, but this is his first time dealing with a queer son and his unseemly behavior,” Anders said while salting his salmon. I was not super keen on fish for breakfast, but when in Rome…
“No, it is not,” Harold replied and sipped his coffee.
Anders’ fork hit his plate with a clatter as my attention flew from my herring to the prince smirking at us over his coffee mug.
“Remember that incident with the model after the Dutch Grand Prix?” We both nodded dully, even though I only found out about that scandal recently.
Anders’ fork still lay on his plate. “Well, there was a man involved as well. Beautiful Italian racer. Tanned and sleek, you could rest this coffee cup on his cheekbones. He and I shared the bed of the model.”
“Oh well, many straight men share the bed of a woman,” Anders said, looking at me for verification. “You’re half straight. That is not uncommon, is it?”
“Well, I’m not sure being bi is really half straight, but okay,” I replied.
“Oh well, no, of course not, but…” Anders looked back at his brother. “You were sharing the woman with no touching of each other’s penises, right?”
“Trust me, there was plenty of penis touching. As well as some sucking. Eventually, the model fell asleep, but Giorgio and I…well, we went on without her. The next morning, we were caught in flagrante delicto by a nosy paparazzi who scaled a garden wall. Father found out and squashed what he could of it, the part with me naked and making out with a sexy racer but couldn’t kill the story entirely, so it was only me and the woman shown lying about the pool without any clothes.
So, to clarify things, you are not the only queer son he has.
I’m as bi as your boyfriend.” The door opened, and Rani stepped in.
Harold gave him a long head-to-toe appraisal.
“With a fondness for dark-skinned men with thick black hair and a tongue as sharp as a rapier.”
Rani chose to ignore Harold other than to give him a short bow of respect before greeting Anders, the gobsmacked man with no fork, and me. What their story was I had no clue but was dying to find out.
“Your Highness, the day seems to be a nice one. Would you like to take a stroll on the beach once Miss Gilda is awake?” Rani asked as he poured himself some coffee.
Della appeared then, bouncing with energy, on the end of a leash held by a young staffer.
Young man, pink in the cheeks, with hair so blond it was nearly white.
“She’s done well, Your Highness,” the young man said, unsnapping the min pin and backing out of the dining room while the dog made circles around the table.
Harold fed her a snippet of bacon from his plate.
Anders finally picked up his fork but looked to be stunned into silence.
Harold decided to read more of the newspaper article as we all tried not to give in to the pitiful whining from the dog in the pink quilted vest.
“So, Your Highness, as I was saying, today is predicted to be quite sunny and warm. If you’d like, I can set up a boating excursion for you, Mr. Baxter—”
“Please call me Mitch. I’ve been told its first names here at the summer palace.” I smiled over my fish at Rani.
“Yes, that is correct. Mitchell then, and Miss Gilda.” He pulled out his tablet. “There is also a little fete taking place at the town hall tonight to honor a local artisan. Wood carver. Quite good. We could look into purchasing some of his carvings for the lodge?”
“Mm, hmm, yes,” Anders absently agreed, his attention locked on his brother. “Why did you never tell me that you were queer?”
Harold lowered the paper. Rani coughed discreetly. I shoved some herring into my mouth.
“There are reasons,” Harold answered. I chewed the oily, salty and sweet fish slowly, trying to see if I liked it or not. The jury might be out a bit longer.
“Reasons?” Anders barked. Della stopped pawing at my leg for a taste of fish.
I shot Rani a look, but all I got in reply was his lowering his head to type on his tablet.
“I’ve been battling with Father and the conservatives of this country for years now, and all that time I felt as if I was facing this alone.
You watched it all and said nothing. Why would you not say a fucking word to me at the very least? ! Tell me that you understood.”
“I did tell you that I understood,” Harold said gently.
“But you didn’t say that you understood because you were queer as well, Harold. Frode and Ivar say they understand my plight. No, our plight, but they don’t really understand it, they empathize with it, but you were right there all the time and just let all the shit fall on me?!”
Harold’s sight darted to Rani. There was no sign of acknowledgment. “There were reasons that I remained quiet. Anders, I will sit in silence no longer, though. I promise you that.”
“Coward. You damn coward. You let me ford a raging river of hate alone just so you could sit back and continue pretending that you’re straight?
” Anders shot from his seat with such force the chair toppled back to hit the floor with a thud.
Arne opened the door to look in. Seeing the family drama—two brothers glowering at each other in a room packed full of tension—he slowly eased his head out and shut the door.
Wished I could do the same. “Reasons. What kind of reasons could there be to let your brother carry that load, that loathing, from our father, alone for so long?”
Harold said nothing. I chewed and tried to swallow. The fish wanted to get stuck.
“My reasons for not coming out are mine,” Harold stated, tossed the paper onto the table, and rose. “I’m sorry to have been such a disappointment to you, Anders. I’ll remove myself from the table now so you can eat your breakfast.”
Harold left, soft steps carrying him to the corridor and out of sight. The door closed softly with a click. Rani stood and went to right Anders’ chair.
“Leave it. I’m not hungry anymore. I need some air,” Anders said, giving me a pained look. “Please just finish your food. When Gilda is awake, we can walk the beach. I need time alone.”
“You sure?” I asked. He bent to kiss my cheek and walked out. I looked over at Rani.
“Is this a typical breakfast in a royal house?”
“It’s not atypical,” he replied. “I’ll schedule a walk on the beach for ten or so? Then perhaps we will see where the prince’s humors are before we venture to the nearby fete?”
“Sure, yes, that’s good.”
My meal didn’t sit well, but I ate what I could before going up to rouse Gilda. She at least was chipper and ready for adventures. Oh, to be young and not seated with two warring brothers at breakfast. Maybe I needed to sleep in while on vacation…
***
The walk on the beach was invigorating.
That is what people say when it’s cold as hell but the scenery is just stunning.
The shoreline was breathtaking, soft white sand but striated with thousands of rocks and tiny shells.
Nothing but the sound of gulls and the waters of the North Sea lapping steadily on the sands.
This two-mile stretch of beach was private, for the use of the royal family only, so it was just the four of us.
Anders, Gilda, me, and Alfred. Always on guard but several feet back or lingering along the snowy dune line.
I’d never before witnessed snow on a beach.
Never really even thought it could happen, but here it was, white bright light off the snow that the tides would melt and carry back to the sea.
Gilda had a tote bag filled with red, white, and grayish-blue rocks as well as dozens of shells.
What she intended to do with them all, I couldn’t say, but she and Della were enjoying themselves tremendously.
Anders and I stood on a small dune, my daughter and his dog padding about down below near the surf line.
We’d been here a good hour, Gilda and me, Anders even longer.
“Are you okay?” I asked as the cold wind threw his curls back from his brow.
“I’m…better. I think I may have overreacted.” He looked my way. “Did I?”
I shoved my mittened hands deeper into my coat pockets. Watching Della larking about in the cold sea with no booties made me even colder. Yet she hated walking in the snow. Go figure.
“I think you were justifiably shocked and hurt.”
“Yes, I agree, but Harold also made a point in that when he comes out, it is not for me to decide.”
“Yeah, that’s correct.”
Anders blew out a breath that fogged lightly in front of him. “Why is this family of mine so damn difficult?”
“I’m pretty sure all families are difficult at times.”
He smiled feebly. “Probably so, yes, but mine seem to like being pricks. Some go above and beyond to be assholes.”
I chuckled. “If it helps you to digest what Harold tossed out over breakfast like a dead herring, I think both of you are right in your own ways. Having him at your side as you faced down your father would have been really nice. But you’ve come out of that stronger and more secure in yourself and your gayness.
Harold has reasons why he’s still in the closet but watching you become such a strong and vocal fighter for the LGBTQ community here in ?stermon has to have influenced him. ”
“Mm, perhaps. He’s a shit. I love him and all my brothers, but sometimes I would like to kick them into the sea for the dragons to eat.”
“They’d not fill a dragon’s tummy.”
“True, and they would irritate the poor dragon on the way out.” We both snickered. “I am so very glad you are here.”