Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-six
Scottie
For the most part, her days were nothing like before. Except for the month of handing over O’Shay to Boston Brothers, going through the days like a robot, she slept in and then made a late breakfast-slash-early lunch, eating it on her back deck, watching fall swallow up summer.
She avoided coffee with friends, thus the cloaked inquiries about Lady Royal and life in a castle. She canceled her pickleball membership, and when she saddled Dart for a ride, she aimed him west, wishing she could ride all the way to California.
She gave herself to Dad and Remi’s wedding, finding purpose in helping where needed, even designing bespoke bridesmaids’ dresses that O’Shay’s head seamstress created in three days.
On this crisp fall evening with edges of gold on the fading horizon, Scottie watched the newlyweds from the wedding party’s table. Handsome in a cream-colored fine wool suit, and Remi in a pink-champagne fitted gown, Dad danced with his bride to Bob Seger’s “Shame On the Moon.”
He was completely enveloped by her, lost in her eyes, sinking deeper with each swaying step.
Suddenly, within the span of a single note, Scottie was in the Belly of the Beast, dancing the Ildys, falling into Michael’s gaze like Dad fell into Remi’s.
“Hey you, why the distant look?” Cap Henderson dropped his athletic, graceful form into the vacated chair next to her. “Tell me you’re not thrilled for your dad.”
“Of course I am.”
“Hey, Scotto.” A tipsy Uncle Festus pounded her on the shoulders. “I never thought I’d see this day. Trent O’Shay in love and married.”
Cap steadied Festus, helping him move on. “Remi’s good for your dad,” he said, reaching for the dish of peanuts and popping a few in his mouth, his posture every inch that of an Army Ranger. “Isn’t Lauchtenland in your future?”
“Remi is amazing and Dad deserves this,” she said. “And no, Lauchtenland is not in my future.”
This notion of “never Lauchtenland” had crept into her mental processes. The entire wedding week, friends and family had speculated about her royal connections, wondering when she’d return to her “mother’s country.”
“Don’t you have a royal title?” they asked.
“By the way, what exactly was a ‘Lady Royal?’”
Scottie retreated. Head in the sand.
“Come on, Scottie,” Cap said in his jovial way. “I saw the pictures of you as Lady Royal and, girl, it fit. You looked more like yourself than ever, even with the scandal at the quay. What was that about?”
“Craziness. Mostly, people not wanting another American royal.”
“But you’re half Lauchten, aren’t you? A Blue blood, a member of the royal we.”
“None of that matters to the citizens of Lauchtenland. For them, it’s about culture and national pride.
Under their microscope, I’m not House of Blue material.
” Never mind the one-eighty turn of Hamish Fickle, Lord Midlands, campaigning for her to win her princess coronet.
“Never mind me.” She gave Cap’s knee a pat. “How. Are. You?”
“I’m good. The farm’s good. We’re going to turn a nice profit this year.
Have you saved the date for my wedding? Yesterday Freya and I finalized the deets for our Wedding Chapel wedding the first Sunday in December.
She wanted a Christmas wedding when we married the first time, but we had to rush everything for my deployment. ”
“I’m happy for you. And yes, your wedding is on my calendar.”
“So…when Taylor Gillingham was walking us around the chapel one last time she might have mentioned you’ve been a bit adrift.”
“Did she, now? Wait until I see her.” Taylor was a friend from high school, owner of the Wedding Chapel and married to Jack, VP of Marketing for O’Shay—no, no, make that Boston Brothers.
“She’s worried about you, Scottie. We all are.”
“Please. I’m fine. I promise.”
Dad’s high school best friend, Andy, danced past the table with his wife. “Finally, a bride for Trent, Scottie. We’re so happy for him. Aren’t you happy for him?”
“Good to see you, Andy. Delaney, I love your dress.”
Then it was back to Cap, who seemed stuck on Scottie’s well-being. “What are you going to do now the business has been sold?”
“I don’t know…maybe buy an island in the Caribbean and surround myself with cabana boys.”
“Very funny. So not you.”
“What do you want me to say, Cap? That I’m crushed? Lost? Struggling through sleepless nights or how nothing makes sense even when I try to concentrate on what’s next? My grasp was so firm on the golden ring and now—”
“Scottie.” He leaned toward her. “For the first time in your whole thirty-eight years, you’re free.
You’re not heir to O’Shay. You have no family or corporate obligations.
You can go anywhere you want. Do whatever you want.
Go, be a princess.” He shot her one of his I-dare-you looks.
“I’d like to see it. While you’re there, Princess, find a prince.
Fall in love. Use all of your amazing skill and training to help people like that chick, the local designer. You carried one of her bags, right?”
“Now how do you know that, Cap Henderson? Fashion was never your thing, as I recall.”
“Hey now, I’ve dressed for a few military balls. You went with me once. But Freya told me about the bag and how the designer was scrambling to fulfill orders.”
“Yeah, I’m happy for Eloise. But Cap, you make it sound like I can just choose a life in Lauchtenland. It’s not so simple. I can’t hop on a plane to Port Fressa, knock on Perrigwynn Palace’s front door and say, ‘I’m back, make me a princess.’”
“Why not?”
“Besides, I can’t go back.” The confession she’d been pushing aside welled up.
“I think the entire trip over was a mistake. I allowed myself to get wowed by the glitz and glamour, the handsome equerry and protection officer, and the Lauchtenland lore of love. I thought I could be a permanent member of the Family. While all that was going on, O’Shay was being stolen. ”
Cap slipped his hand into hers. “Maybe that’s the point, Scottie.
While you were discovering this whole other side of your heritage, O’Shay ended, clearing a new path for you.
” Pushing back from the table, Cap said his final words.
“One more thing before I go. If the acquisition fell through right now and Trent came rushing over to tell you O’Shay Shirts was yours once again, how would you really feel?
Would you suddenly be at peace? Settled?
Seeing the future like you used to?” Cap leaned forward to kiss her temple. “I don’t think so.”
Soft electric guitar notes rose from the bandstand. Cap shifted his attention across the room, instantly finding Freya as the mellow voice of the male vocalist harmonized with the guitar, singing about a dream where he’d lost his one true love.
“This is our song. ‘Die with a Smile.’ Lady Gaga and Bruno Mars.” He started to go but took a step back. “You okay?”
“Yes, you goober. Go dance with her.” Scottie waved him off.
“And thanks for the pep talk. I mean it.” She waved to lovely Freya, who swooned into Cap’s arms. Scottie never swooned in Cap’s arms. But there were a pair of arms she could feel around her if she closed her eyes.
Firm. Strong. Muscled. Protective. “Hey love,” Michael’s phantom voice whispered past her ear. “I won’t let you go.”
But he did let her go, didn’t he? Because she was so determined to do it her way.
“Can I have this next dance?” Fritz stood on the other side of the table, hand extended as the singers sang out the last melodies of “Die with a Smile.”
“Did Shug give up on you?” Scottie said.
“She’s talking with Remi, and I was remembering how I taught you to dance all those Friday nights you stayed over.
” Fritz led her gracefully through his box step as a new song came from the band.
A modern rendition of “Moonlight Serenade,” yet still so Glenn Miller.
“You were such a joy to us.” A mist dusted his old blue eyes.
“You are the absolute best thing that ever happened to your dad, Scottie. Well, to me and Shug too, can’t lie.
We tried to tell him as you got older to step out a little, find a nice girl, but you were his girl. ”
“I know, Fritz. I’m grateful. It’s just everything is changing all at once.”
“Darling, everything’s been changing since you learned the truth. You just weren’t paying attention.” He bent to see her face. “You’re free, Scottie. You can—”
“You sound like Cap. Free to do what, Fritz? I never wanted to be free. I never felt trapped.” She rested her head against him. “Are you really okay with all of this? Losing O’Shay?”
“I admit it was a bit of a shock, but Great Grandpa Loom’s legacy isn’t shirts and trousers, it’s us—his sons and daughters all the way down to you, me, and your father.
Even Ethan who unknowingly put the nail in the coffin.
The sale gives you something you never had before Scottie.
A choice. Your dad and I often talked about how we’d locked you in as heir to O’Shay before you even knew how to read.
” The trumpets played their muted mwah, mwah melody from the stage.
“O’Shay turned out to be a fine company.
But it’s not my greatest achievement, nor your dad’s, nor my father’s.
Our greatest achievement is our family, friends, and what we do with our time, money, and words. ”
“Maybe so, Fritz, but you did create a new fabric for men’s outdoor wear that greatly impacted hunters and campers, hikers and mountain climbers.”
“We were desperate for something to keep us afloat in the ’70s. Desperation will make you find a new way of doing things.” Fritz waltzed Scottie around the floor. “Hint, hint.”
“I hear you, I hear you.” Scottie smiled. How she loved her grandfather.
“Did I ever tell you the first time I saw Octavia Broadripple?”
“Many times. But tell me again.”
“I spotted her at a dance and nudged my buddy. ‘I’m going to marry her,’ I said. Which was no easy feat, I tell you. She was beautiful and a bit stuck up. No, not a bit. All the way stuck up. Every fella in town wanted to drive Octavia to the movies.”
“But you won her over.” Scottie never tired of hearing her grandparents’ love story. Fritz, in his wisdom, was grounding her to everything that mattered.
“A few months later, we were at another dance, and Shug’s date abandoned her on the dance floor for a nip of hooch out back with a couple of hoodlums. She was fuming.
I’d just come home from basic training, looking all spiffy in my uniform, so I slipped between the dancing couples, took her in my arms as the band leader sang “Unchained Melody” by Les Baxter.
Never heard the song before, but it would become our song.
She was spitting mad, ready to knock the other fella’s block off, but I hung on to her, never let her go.
Even stole a kiss as the song ended, and seventy years later, Scottie, winning her is my greatest achievement.
Our love is my greatest legacy. I want that for you, my girl, more than anything.
Your dad finally found his love story. It’s time you found yours too. ”
Image after image crossed her mind. Michael at the quay.
Michael by her side at the Garden Party.
Michael reaching for her in the Midlands mob.
His scissor-kicking lesson with his nephew at the anniversary celebration.
His eyes looking so intently at her as they danced the Ilyds.
Pints at the Belly of the Beast. Climbing up to Wenthelen Chapel and making so many discoveries about the Blues and Fickles.
Emmanuel emerging from the woods with fire in His eyes.
The Rose Ball. The Eye of God. Their quiet ride from Hadsby to the Port Fressa airport.
“I’m not sure he’ll have me,” she said without explanation, though Fritz probably already knew. “We’ve texted a few times, but we’ve whittled down to communication by emoji. I was so upset, eager to get home, I ignored everything between us.”
“Here’s my final piece of advice,” Fritz said, scooching her away from the dance floor as dozens and dozens hurried out for a line dance.
“Don’t sit and wait for some new path to magically open for you.
Take the one you’re already standing on, Scottie.
Consider all the good you did in your short time in Lauchtenland.
You have privileges ninety-nine percent of the population can only dream about while watching a movie.
I think there’s more for you to do, Lady Royal. ”
“Any other words of wisdom, dear grandfather?” She’d always loved the calm timbre of his voice. “What about him? What do I say to him?”
“Don’t let the sun go down one more day without reaching out, Scottie. Don’t wait.”