That was something I knew all too well. How many times had I been left over the years? My mother for one, and then there was Marty’s father, who had run as soon as he found out I was pregnant. And now. Now my granddad. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t his choice, the hurt was still just as real.

“Will you fish with me?” He looked up at me with big eyes.

Uh-oh. I hated to fish. That meant handling worms or little bugs. I suppressed a shudder and looked at my son’s hopeful eyes. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll bait your hook!” He smiled, and my relief was immediate. Marty would be okay with time. As long as I was okay and calm, we would get through all of this.

“Deal?” I held out my pinky finger, which he latched on to with his own.

“Deal!” He kissed his thumb and I kissed mine. My fate was sealed. I’d be fishing sometime in the near future.

“Then get out of my bed and go get dressed.” I pushed his shoulders gently. “I have a lot to do today.”

“Like what?” He straightened his Darth Vader pajama shirt.

“I’ve got to get everything set up for the funeral.” I looked at him for a minute, deciding that I wouldn’t ask him to be a pallbearer. I also made a mental note to buy him new pajamas. The ones he was wearing were getting short.

“Are you going to cement him like Great Grandma?”

I couldn’t help the sputter of laughter that escaped me. “Cement him?”

“You know, put him in a vase like Grandma.”

“Cremate.” I shook my head. “Not cement.”

“Weird.” He shook his head. “Can I wear regular clothes?”

In other words, could he wear jeans, not khaki pants and a button-up shirt.

“Yes.” I waved my hand at him. “Now scat. I need a shower.”

“And to brush your teeth.” He giggled when I blew in his direction.

“You too, monster.”

As soon as he was out of my room and running down the hallway, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stretched. I was still in my clothes from the day before, and I frowned. I must have been exhausted to be able to sleep in the form-fitting skirt and blouse I was wearing. Normally I preferred giant T-shirts and sweatpants for sleeping. Nothing tight or revealing for me. All of that stuff was reserved for the stage or special occasions.

I didn’t take long in the shower, just long enough to get clean. No lazy morning bath for me. I had too much to do. There were a lot of decisions to be made. Including one that left me feeling frustrated. Who could I ask to help carry Granddad’s casket?

There was his old friend Patrick. I could call him and see if would be willing to help. Patrick and Granddad had been very close before we moved to Lilaria. If he would help, that would leave me with only two spots to fill.

I had to ask my father. There was no way around that. He should be one of the men to carry the casket, and I’d hide all of the liquor in the house if he said no. I could always super glue his hands to the casket—or maybe bribe him with scotch.

One more person. I needed one more person.

I looked around my room like someone would spontaneously appear. An idea began to form in my mind and I looked down at the jeans I was wearing and shook my head.

There was one person that I could ask. He had told me to tell him if I needed anything. Well, I needed something all right, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could ask over the phone. I needed to go to him and present my case.

I undid the button on my jeans and kicked them off before walking to my closet. If I was going to ask for such a big favor, I needed to reevaluate my wardrobe decision. The right clothes could go a long way to getting me the answer I needed.

FOUR

I SWEAR TO GOD, I’m moving all of my stuff to the palace. I can’t take one more night of your loud, tub-thumping sex.” I pointed my finger at my brother and sister-in-law.

Sam laughed loudly as she heaped more bacon on to her plate. “Good. Our plan is working.”

“That’s not funny.” I slathered butter on my croissant.

“Sure it is.” She shoved a piece of bacon in her mouth and smiled at me. “We’ve been trying to get you out of D’Lynsal Manor for months.”

“It’s not my fault that my bathroom is right next to your room. And besides, the bathtub is the only place Samantha is comfortable—”

“Enough!” I cut Alex off with a horrified look. “I don’t want to know where you two have sex, much less pregnant sex.”

“Well, how do you think I got this way?” Sam gestured to her baby bump.

“Knowing and hearing are two different things.” I rolled my eyes. I’d never admit it to her, because it would go to her head, but she made an adorable pregnant woman. It looked like she had a basketball hidden under her shirt.

“Then go back to the palace.” Alex pointed at me with his fork.

“I came here for the same reason you did.” I shoveled some eggs in my mouth before continuing. “The place is covered in visiting dignitaries. I ran into the Duke of Edinburgh in our family kitchen. He was drinking out of the milk carton.”

Sam laughed. “Was he naked?”

“Thank you very much for that horrible visual.” Alex set his fork down.

“No. He was wearing sleep pants.” I grabbed the coffeepot and refilled my cup. Sam’s love of coffee had infected the entire family.

“I hate you.” Her eyes were full of lust as she eyed the coffeepot.