London, England
November 2016
Into this world we're thrown
"…and so I pinched him," Preti announces seriously. "He was mean to me, so I had to pinch him, right?"
"I think that makes sense," Ken agrees.
I give him a side-eye from where I'm helping Aaron with his biology homework. (Poor boy has yet to figure out that the only thing I retain from my biology lessons in high school is that mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell.) Ken shrugs slightly and throws me a helpless look over Preti's head. He's clearly no match for her.
"Miss Denver put me in time out, but I think she should have put Icky Mickey in time out, too. He started it!" Preti puts her hands on her hips and juts her chin out, the very picture of righteous indignation.
"If he misbehaved, he ought to have been put in time out, too, yes," Ken replies cautiously, clearly trying to find the middle ground that results in him displeasing neither me nor the girl standing in front of him.
"I think so, too," declare Preti, nodding forcefully. "In fact –" She launches into a retelling of every the misstep Icky Mickey ever took in his entire life, so I leave it to Ken to listen to her while I myself tune her out and focus on Aaron and his homework again.
We've finished labelling the major muscles of the human body to the best of our shared abilities (and it's a little embarrassing how little I recall of it, given my family's general proclivity for all things medical) and now focus on the skeletal system. We do a little better with the bones, so it's less than fifteen minutes later that Aaron declares our combined effort to be good enough and shuts his exercise book. I know he's just impatient to go play football with the other boys and that I should make him sit and finish this completely, but for once, I'm also impatient to call it a day, so I let it slide and allow him to leave.
Getting up from the table, I walk over to where Preti is still going on about Icky Mickey, her hands moving around wildly as she illustrates her point. Ken stands opposite her, blinking and making the occasional encouraging sound, clearly out of his depth, bless him.
"Alright, you two, time's up" I state loudly as I approach them. "I'm going to need to steal Ken from you now, Preti-sweetheart, and I think you still have your French homework to do."
Preti, thus interrupted, glares at me darkly and pulls a most frightful grimace at the mention of her homework. (Preti and French are eternal adversaries and according to her, it's unclear who hates one more than the other.) Ken dares an amused smile, but when Preti looks up at him suspiciously, he quickly adopts an expression of grave sincerity instead.
"You're mean," Preti informs me, but when I remain unmoved, she shuffles off in direction of her school bag, all the while muttering darkly to herself, no doubt cursing both me and her French homework. Luckily, Preti doesn't bear grudges, so I know we will be good again tomorrow.
Grabbing Ken's hand, I drag him towards the door. "We're leaving, kids," I announce to the room. "See you tomorrow. Be good for Simone!"
"Bye, Rilla. Bye, Ken," they chorus back, some of them waving goodbye.
Inwardly, I feel pleased at how they relaxed they've become around Ken. When I started working here in summer, I realised quickly that I wanted to share this part of my life with him. Last year, the youth centre was mine and I guarded it quite jealously from Ken's interest, but this year, all of that is different. It's such an important aspect of my life and I want him to know all about it, so I gradually started to introduce him to it. With his busy schedule, he can't come often and it's usually just to pick me up or drop me off, but he's been here often enough now for the kids to have gotten used to him. Even the teenage girls have stopped giggling every time he so much as looks their way.
"Did you enjoy your little chat with Preti?" I ask Ken as we step out into the hallway.
He takes our coats from the rack and holds up mine to help me into it. "She is… quite the character, but I like her," he answers. "You must promise me never to introduce her to Izzie though. I'm not sure the universe could survive their combined force."
I laugh. "No, I don't imagine it would."
When we're all bundled up in our coats, I slip my gloved hand into Ken's and lead him outside. A quick look around tells me that there are no reporters to be seen, which is always nice. (One of the benefits of Teddy producing a fiancée out of the blue is that suddenly, all interest is firmly focused on them and Ken and I get a break.) His PPOs, who've been milling around, spring into action when they see us, but instead of going to the car waiting by the curb, I tug Ken in the other direction.
"Where are we going?" he wants to know, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"It's a surprise," I tell him. Making eye contact with Hanson, I give him a quick nod. He smiles and nods back, before directing the other PPOs to follow us with some distance.
Ken doesn't miss our little exchange. "Wait, is Hanson in on this?"
"He might be," I reply blithely, though of course, Hanson is most definitely aware of my plan. Surprising Ken is one thing, but surprising his PPOs is not an option. Their job is to protect him and they can only do that when they have all relevant information.
"I want to be in on it, too," Ken informs me, nudging me slightly and giving me his most winning smile.
"You'll see soon enough," I reply. "I never usually get to surprise you, but today is your birthday, so we'll play by my rules for now."
"When don't we?" Ken shoots back, grinning. I roll my eyes at him, but that doesn't result in wiping that grin off his face. If anything, he just grins wider.
He does, however, follow me willingly enough along the streets of Croydon. The PPOs try to give us some semblance of privacy, but they stick closer than they usually do in similar situations, telling me that despite me clearing this little trip with Hanson, they're not too happy about it. This is too far from their usual turf and anyway, Ken being out on the street always makes them antsy. I'd accuse them of being paranoid, but I guess a little paranoia doesn't go amiss in their profession.
Happily for them, it's not a long walk though and we reach our destination within minutes.
"Wait." Ken stops when he sees the dog shelter and frowns. "I've been here before, I think."
"Accurate," I confirm and give his hand a tug. "Now, come on. We have less than two hours before your family comes for dinner."
That sets him moving and he allows me to lead him inside the shelter. As we enter, we pass a volunteer named Reena who gives me a cheery wave but looks at Ken with wide eyes before ducking into a room.
"They know you here," Ken observes.
"They might," I sing-song innocently.
In truth, I've been here two or three times a week since my first visit, so they absolutely do know me here. But I don't want to tell that to Ken yet. Not before I've re-introduced him to –
"Lottie!"
It takes a moment after I've called out the name, but then a black snout comes into view, followed by a black-and-brown speckled head and a pair of large, pointy ears. Dark eyes watch us alertly and a little warily, but after a few moments, her gaze grows a little calmer. It took many visits, but I can proudly say that Lottie has built a sort of trust in me by now.
Ken's hand slips from mine as he crouches down in front of Lottie's pen. "I know you," he mutters and holds out his hand for her to sniff at.
Lottie does so, eyeing him cautiously. She doesn't, however, draw back, which is more than she did when I came to visit for the first time. Or, you know, the first five times, to be exact. It's safe to say that it took a while for her to tolerate me even just sitting in front of her pen.
She reacts much differently to Ken though, just like she did when he came on his official visit on October. Not that she starts jumping up and down and wagging her tail, because Lottie is far too reserved for that, but she doesn't withdraw either, instead carefully sticking her snout through the bars of her cage and allowing Ken to stroke it gently with his index finger.
"You're a pretty girl, aren't you?" he murmurs, keeping his voice low and calming. Lottie's ears play alertly, but she stays in her spot.
Me, I hang back and watch them, mentally congratulating myself for my idea. If those two aren't meant for each other, I don't know who is!
"Rilla." Ken slightly raises his voice, but keeps the calm pitch he used on Lottie. "Why exactly are we here?"
"We-ell…" I draw out the word slightly. "They're willing to let us adopt her if we want to."
"Us? Adopt a dog?" asks Ken, turning to look at me briefly.
"Not a dog," I correct as I walk up to stand next to him. "This dog."
He's quiet for a moment, reaching through the bars and lightly stroking Lottie's head. "I'm not sure we have time for a dog," he finally demurs. "I'm so busy these days…"
"You're busy because you make yourself be busy," I point out cautiously while crouching down next to him so we're level. "Your parents are back and Owen is looking really well. I understand that you want to protect him, but at the same time, you need to let go a little before you overwork yourself and it ends up being you we have to start worrying about."
Ken makes an unwilling sound. "Have you been talking to Otto?" he grumbles.
I smile. "No, but he's a clever man, that Otto. I bet he also tells you to slow down a little."
"He does," Ken admits unwillingly.
"That's because you still try to solve problems that are not your fault, nor yours to solve," I tell him gently. "But that's okay. We'll get there. Baby steps."
"And getting a dog is one of the steps?" he asks, raising both eyebrows.
"Getting this dog," I correct, again. "And it might as well be. Maybe her waiting for you to come home will be enough to entice you, even if me waiting for you isn't."
He sighs. "Rilla, love…"
Smiling, I shake my head, before leaning over to kiss his cheek. "It's okay. I understand. I'm not mad or anything."
Ken looks at me for a moment, before the tenseness leaves his face and he returns my smile. "Thank you." A beat. "I love you."
"I should hope so," I tease.
Lottie yaps quietly, redrawing our attention.
"Now, about Lottie…" I trail off, nodding at the dog.
Ken resumes his stroking of her, a frown visible between his brows. "Even if I spent more time at home, a dog is a lot of work. They need to be walked every day and they shouldn't be left alone for too long either."
"I've thought about that, actually," I remark. "Mrs Franklin would be only too happy to walk her if we can't do it. Charlotte was also very eager to offer her services, especially since they share a name. Oh, and Felix mentioned something about growing up with lots of dogs and missing their company. Plus, there's always Persis."
"They're my staff though," Ken points out. "It's not part of their job to walk my dog."
I nod. "I told them as much, but as Charlotte pointed out, it's completely up to them what they do during their lunch break. She's really taken with the idea, I must say. She even came with me to meet Lottie once or twice already."
Ken hums thoughtfully while scratching Lottie's pointy ears.
"Look, it's a suggestion," I tell him when he doesn't offer anything else. "You don't have to say Yes now, or at all, really. The reason why we came here to see Lottie instead of me presenting her to you with a bow around her neck is to give you a choice. It was my idea, but it's yours to decide. If you decide against it, I promise I won't be angry or disappointed. Look at it as an offer, nothing more."
"How would this work?" Ken asks and looks from Lottie to me and back.
"We won't take her with us right away anyway," I explain. "They want her to get to know us better before we can take her home and they want us to work with her under their supervision first, too. So for now, we simply come here to see her, like I've been doing these past weeks. We don't have to decide anything before they give us the go to take her home."
Of course, I know that once Ken decides to visit Lottie, it's settled. He wouldn't allow her to bond to him (or himself to bond to her) if he didn't intend for it to be for good. But I don't say that, instead sitting back on my heels and waiting for him to react.
A minute or two pass, before he puts forward his next argument. "We already have George though. Will they get along?"
"I have George," I amend with a shrug. "He likes you, but he's mine, which is even more of a reason to get you a pet of your own. But I digress. To answer your question, I'm sure they will take some time to get used to each other, but George learned to tolerate even Monday and he's a much more overeager dog than Lottie ever could be. And Lottie for her part is a trained army dog, so she knows not to chase cats. I have a feeling that with some time and patience, they will indeed get along just fine."
While I speak, I watch Ken and the dog closely. Neither of them is looking at me and I realise that they've already started bonding. Perhaps they did so all the way back during his first visit here.
"I suppose…" Ken tells me slowly. "I suppose it can't hurt to visit her and see where it leads?"
"No, I suppose it can't hurt," I agree, smiling to myself.
But deep down, I think we both know that the decision has already been made. When it's time to leave, it certainly takes quite some coaxing on my part to convince Ken to leave Lottie behind and go home with me. I'm fairly sure that if we hadn't invited his family for dinner, I wouldn't have been successful at all.
As it is though, we leave Lottie with the promise to come back soon, before climbing into the car waiting for us outside. The PPOs, I can't help noticing, breathe a sigh of relief when we do and I don't have the heart to tell them that the visits to Croydon will be much more frequent in the coming weeks. (Hanson seems to guess, judging from his quizzical look, but he doesn't look very disapproving at all.)
We make it back to KP in time (and I mentally congratulate myself for putting Mrs Franklin, Ken's housekeeper, in charge of dinner). Leslie and Owen haven't arrived yet and neither has Persis, but Teddy is already waiting for us and so, of course, is Amy.
She is… a sweet girl, Amy is, and I mean this entirely as a compliment. Of course, she's clearly completely out of her depth in this royal environment, but I blame Teddy for that. She herself tries her best to be upbeat, positive and confident, even if it's painfully clear that she hasn't even begun to get used to what is now set to be her life, poor girl.
The press, naturally, tried to pit us against each other immediately, accusing me of being jealous that Amy got a ring after a few months while I still don't have one after six years. (If only they knew!) I tried my best to refute those rumours, beginning with the fact that I stood next to Persis in plain view of the cameras when Ken took it upon himself to formally announce his brother's engagement. The entire time, I made sure to smile so much my face hurt, because I knew that one second of not-smiling would give them the picture to illustrate those jealousy headlines with. (Naturally, they simply took the pictures of me smiling and looked for signs of that smile being fake, but some things just can't be helped.)
What was a sweet moment during that engagement announcement was when Teddy, in the interview part, made an off-hand comment about being grateful for the support of his brother and sisters. The reporters immediately honed in on that plural and while they probably would have liked a secret illegitimate sister better, it was very touching when Teddy, blushing slightly, gestured towards Persis and me, indicating that he was speaking about the two of us. I myself have come to think of him and Persis as siblings, too, so I understand the sentiment, but it was very sweet of him to say it outright like that.
I guess it also means that in Amy, I'm set to gain a yet another sister in an indirect sort of way, and not for nothing have I vowed to help make her transition as smoothly as it could possibly be under the circumstances.
"Teddy! Amy!" I greet them both as Ken and I enter one of the drawing rooms, where they sit a little stiffly on a sofa. Both immediately jump to their feet upon hearing us.
"Sorry for being late," Ken apologises. "We were delayed."
"I think we're early actually," Teddy replies. "Mrs Franklin took good care of us though." He gestures at the two glasses of what suspiciously looks like sherry standing in front of them. (I don't think sherry is originally from here, but the English have certainly made it their own. Like with Pimm's, I don't think the rest of the world quite gets the appeal.)
Ken gives Teddy a brief hug in greeting and shakes Amy's hand while accepting good wishes from them. Me, I make a point to hug them both, before gesturing for them to sit down again. Once we're all seated, Mrs Franklin appears by the door as if summoned.
"Would you like a drink, Sir? Miss?" she asks diligently. "Some sherry, perhaps?"
See? I knew it was sherry! Mrs Franklin is a darling, but her ideas of what is fashionable are very 1980s, to say the least.
"Just some cognac for me, Mrs Franklin," Ken answers and I can feel him shudder slightly at the thought of drinking sherry, especially the sweet sort his housekeeper (our housekeeper?) prefers.
"Hmm…" I hum in thought as I ponder the question. "A Bellini, please."
"Certainly." Mrs Franklin nods, but I can see her tutting inwardly at our open show of rebellion. I'm betting a Bellini is much too foreign and new-fangled for her liking.
Once she has safely retreated back towards the kitchen, Ken points at the two glasses of sherry. "You don't have to drink that, you know," he informs his brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law.
"Oh, no, it's fine," Amy rushes to assure. "It's… very interesting. I've heard it's also very English."
"Doesn't mean that you're under any obligation to drink it," Ken points out as he leans back on the sofa and puts an arm around the backrest behind me.
"Let her drink it if she wants to, Kenneth," I chide him. When I turn to Amy, I make sure to give my voice a kinder tone. "We just want you to know that you can ask for any drink you like. We're among family here, so no-one has to eat or drink anything they don't like."
Teddy nods along to my words. "She's right, Ames. I like sherry, but you don't have to. If you want to, we can ask Mrs Franklin to bring you something else."
"Well…" Amy blushes a little. "I guess a mojito might be nice."
"A good choice," Teddy encourages her, before reaching over and bravely chugging her glass of sherry to make it look like she drank it. (I only hope Amy won't now fear that Mrs Franklin will think her a drunk, but she looks much too nervous to make that connection.)
"I'm not sure Mrs Franklin knows what a mojito is, but I'm expecting it to feature somewhere in her extensive collection of recipe books," Ken deadpans.
It's only when Teddy and I laugh that Amy dares a tentative smile as well. She appears to be especially nervous tonight, but I can't fault her. She's come to be more relaxed around Persis and me in the past three weeks (though she still seems to be a little scared of Ken), but Owen and Leslie only returned from Scotland yesterday, so it will be her first time meeting them tonight. I can only imagine how nervous I would have been to meet them if they hadn't both sprung their presence on me unannounced! (Come to think of it, I probably had it a lot easier for it.)
I guess in light of that, some reassurances won't go amiss, right?
Just when I rise to my feet, Mrs Franklin enters with a cognac for Ken and my Bellini and places both drinks on the table in front of us.
Ken nods at her. "Thank you, Mrs Franklin. Would you be so kind as to get a mojito for Miss Summerfield?"
"A… mojito," repeats Mrs Franklin, a slight note of scepticism in her voice. "Certainly, Sir."
She bustles out of the room and just as with the last time, no-one speaks until her footsteps can no longer be heard. (I think we're all of us a little afraid of Mrs Franklin's disapproval.) When it's all quiet outside, I turn to look at Amy, "I meant to go check on dinner. Do you want to come with me?"
She quickly raises her head, her eyes wide, but then takes a deep breath and composes herself. "Yes, of course."
I didn't really expect her to decline. The men, I'm fairly sure, know that I have no intention of checking on dinner and wouldn't need Amy's help for it anyway, but they're sensible to realise that I have a plan. Teddy just gives Amy an encouraging smile as she stands up, while Ken waves us off lazily over his glass of cognac.
Once Amy and I have left the room, I direct her to one of the smaller rooms off the corridor that is very prettily decorated but the use of which I've not yet figured out. George, lying curled up on a cushy armchair inside the room, blinks at us briefly, then yawns and settles back down to sleep.
"This is not the kitchen," Amy observes when I close the door behind us.
"I know better than to check on Mrs Franklin's dinner," I tell her bluntly and shrug. "For one, there's no need to. For another, she has very clear ideas of what's her role and what's mine. Mine isn't to sneak around in the kitchen and get in her way."
Amy smiles cautiously. "So, you wanted to speak to me?" I think it's meant as a statement but comes out as more of a question.
"I did," I confirm, before murmuring, half to myself, "and after that, I really need to get changed into something more suitable for dinner." After all, jeans and a sweater might cut it for a youth centre and an animal shelter, but they're hardly fitting attire for the birthday dinner of one's royal boyfriend.
Raising my head to look at Amy again, I explain, "I just realised that you're meeting Owen and Leslie for the first time today and that must feel like a super scary thing. I figured some tips might be welcome."
She breathes a sigh of relief, her entire body relaxing as she does. "Oh my God, yes! I keep bugging Teddy to tell me more about them but he just says that they'll love me and that's so not helpful at all! I mean, I don't expect them to hate me, but they're the King and the Queen and they're his parents! It would be much easier if I knew something more about them than what I can read on Wikipedia!"
The interesting – and somewhat encouraging – thing about Amy is that once her tongue isn't tied in knots from nervousness anymore, she talks rather a lot, as I've found. (Her frequent use of italics and exclamation marks isn't foreign to me either.) I take it to be a good sign that she does now.
"In that case, come sit here with me and I shall tell you all the things Wikipedia has no idea about," I invite her and nod at a low settee by the window.
Amy follows me readily and looks at me with eager eyes as I mentally prepare what I mean to tell her. "You'll see that Owen is one of the kindest people you will ever meet. He has this trick of setting people at ease right away, but he's also genuinely nice. You can trust that feeling," I explain. "His stroke was hard on him and while his mind is mostly back to what it was, his body hasn't fully recovered. Leslie says it's not very noticeable, but he does slip up sometimes and he hates that, so if he drops his fork during dinner or something, just pretend it didn't happen."
"Ignore any fork-dropping happening." Amy nods earnestly. "Got it."
"Now, as for Leslie…" I hesitate for a moment, ordering my thoughts. "She's very nice, too, but naturally more reserved than Owen. I mean, I didn't get to meet her until Ken and I had been dating for well over three years! If she takes a while to openly warm to you, that's not because she dislikes you, but because that's just who she is. She… hasn't had the easiest of lives."
It's a tricky balance I'm trying to keep here. Leslie's story is pivotal to understanding her as a person, but it's so not mine to tell!
Luckily, Amy nods again. "She lost her brother and mother early in life, didn't she? It says so on Wikipedia."
Ah, bless the internet!
"She did," I agree, silently relieved. "Just give her time to get to know you and it should be fine."
Amy takes a deep breath. "Yes, I will. Thank you."
"Anytime." I smile, feeling my heart going out to her. She's handling all this so valiantly, but at the same time, she's only at the beginning of what will be an utterly life-changing experience for her and she's doing it all at warp speed, too.
"Thanks," she repeats, mirroring my smile and looking a little less scared now.
"I mean it, you know," I stress, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Anytime, really. The family is lovely, but they don't always understand what it feels like to enter this world from the outside. You and I know that and I just… I guess what I'm saying is that we have to stick together, so if you do ever find yourself in need of some support, I'm here for you, okay?"
I just hope it can be enough to help her navigate the utter madness that certainly lies ahead.
The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Riders on the Storm' (written by John Densmore, Robby Krieger, Ray Manzarek and Jim Morrison, released by The Doors in 1971).
To DogMonday:
I suppose this chapter answered the question of where Lottie was last time ;). I'm trying to write a responsible adoption that isn't rushed in any way, especially because Lottie is a traumatised dog. She won't come home with Ken and Rilla until the people at the dog shelter give their permission, to make sure that Lottie's needs come first and foremost in this entire process - as they should!
Leslie and Owen are obviously back now, too. I imagine they probably considered coming back sooner, but them rushing back right after Teddy's engagement announcement might have set tongues wagging, so they decided to let a little time pass. Originally, their plans probably included staying in Scotland until after Christmas, so they definitely are coming back eraly to see Amy though. Overall, they're quite quick to meet her, too. I mean, they went long enough without meeting Rilla, so three weeks for Amy is actually a very short time.
They Daydream Believer in the last chapter is Teddy, of course, and the Homecoming Queen is Amy. Originally, the previous chapter was actually meant to include her and maybe give a glimpse of the press conference, but then it ran away from me and I decided to push Amy to this chapter instead, mostly to keep the length manageable. That's why the title didn't fit perfectly anymore but I always knew I would use it for Teddy's engagement, so I stuck with it anyway.
As for an engagement of Ken and Rilla... the truth is, Teddy beat them to it and in doing so, he ensured there can't be an engagement until he and Amy are married. If Ken and Rilla were to announce any marriage plans now, it would completely overshadow Teddy and Amy, which would be kind of cruel. So, Teddy, despite being the one to tell Ken to get his act together, paradoxically made just that impossible for the time being. In fairness, I don't think he considered that, but now it's a reality they all have to deal with.
