Chapter Seventeen

As he drove through the mountains, Henry and I talked easily about life.

I confided in him about feelings that I had not shared with anyone about Mom, Meredith, and Dad. He listened, didn’t judge, and somehow understood. In return, he did the same and confided in me. Both of us had lived similar paths, but our responses differed. I wished I had learned to grieve more productively. My life would have been sweeter. I definitely would not have landed in this situation.

About four hours in, we hit Vegas. We decided not to play tourist too much and get back on the road, but not before we snapped some pictures of him and me in front of the strip, the Luxor, Excalibur, and the MGM Grand. He bought me some hot toffee almonds and a large slushy for the rest of the trip.

A few hours longer, the desert landscape morphed into canyons and rock formations like I had never seen before. The sandstone fashioned into odd shapes of orange, red, and purple hues. At some point, I drifted off. I wished I hadn’t. I’m pretty sure the landscape continued to be beautiful, but the long trip lulled me to sleep. I opened my eyes just as Henry pulled his vehicle in front of furniture store with an enormous red sign that read, The King’s Furniture and Upholstery.

“Did you have a nice nap?” he asked, shutting off the engine.

“Yeah.” I ducked down to see out the front window and chuckled. “Are you in need of a couch?”

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “This is it. Our house is behind the store. Come on.”

I opened the door and walked around to meet Henry on the sidewalk. He led me to a path on the side of the brick store.

“My dad is the King,” he explained. “And most people just call him that.”

“So that would make you a prince.” I laughed. “Well, I knew there was something to you always rescuing me.”

He reached for my hand and smiled. “Come on.”

At the back of the building revealed a beautiful, two-story brick house with double-paned glass windows and a French door. From this side, no one would assume it was attached to a storefront. Henry opened the door and let me pass by. Warm air and the smell of turkey hit us on entering. The foyer opened to a large living room—roomy with a stone fireplace. A big, white bear rug laid in the middle, and cowhide-covered chairs and matching couch rested in front, with a lack of a feminine touch apparent. Definitely a man’s cave.

Henry lifted my jacket from my shoulders and dropped it on a rack by the door, then took my hand again and steered me behind the fireplace to a kitchen. The walls were painted forest-green, and the countertops and cabinets were decorated in a mahogany wood.

An older and darker version of Henry, with dark-silver hair and a gray beard, glanced up from a bowl of cranberries and beamed. “Son!” He dropped the spoon, wiped his hand on a towel, and embraced him.

“Good to see you, Dad.”

They patted backs, then the King’s gaze met mine, and he smiled. “And who is this beautiful lady you have with you?”

“Dad, this is Cindy. She works with me and…”

His father approached with arms outstretched.

Awkwardly, I filled them for a warm bear hug.

He stepped back, grinning. “And?”

“And Dad…” Henry slid an arm around my waist and drew me to his hip. “We’re dating.”

My heart flipped with those words. After twenty plus years, someone finally said I was theirs. Butterflies danced inside. I could have kissed him but refrained due to the present company.

His dad clapped, and then hugged us both again. “That’s wonderful. Wonderful.” He shifted back and pointed at his son. “Seems like forever, I have been trying to get this guy to date. He’s just so stubborn. Got a mind of his own. You have to know, Cindy, my son won’t date just anyone. You must be special.”

I beamed. My cheeks heated. “Thanks, Mr.—”

“No, no mister. You can call me King. Everyone around here does.” He grinned big and bright. “Wow, a real live girl, here with my son. That’s the best news I’ve had all year.”

“Okay, Dad. We get it.” Henry laughed. “Sorry. My dad is always trying to marry me off.” His face reddened, probably realizing what he had just said.

“My Henry is a catch. He deserves to be happy.”

“Yes, I agree on both counts.” I winked.

Henry and I eyed each other. His wavery smile made me think he was a tad embarrassed, so I changed the subject. “How can I help with dinner?”

“Do you know how to shell peas?” King asked.

I laughed. “No, but I’d love to, if you show me.” He handed me a bowl filled with what looked like pointy green beans and a smaller empty bowl.

He demonstrated tearing the stem backwards and opening the slit, before freeing the small green balls into the bowl.

Seemed simple enough. “Why not just get frozen or canned peas?”

King shook his head. “Oh, my, no, my dear. Fresh is always better.”

And I believed him. I shelled, King cooked, and Henry made some special hot drink called watzil, or was it wassail? I wasn’t sure, but it smelled amazing—apple and grape juice, cloves, oranges, cinnamon—and I couldn’t wait to try it.

While we worked, we talked. I adored the King. I saw where Henry obtained his kind heart. King helped everyone in his community. People respected him. He had not remarried. Apparently, there were many prospects, but he loved his wife too much to even consider it. His mention of that pierced my heart. I wondered why my father had not been that way. It would have saved me a lot of heartache and maybe my attitude. “I struggle all the time with my dad remarrying. I don’t understand how he could so quickly. Whenever I think about it, I get so angry.”

King wiped his hands on a rag, and then touched my shoulder. “Everyone is different, my dear. Some people like me don’t mind being alone. Others can’t stand it. It’s just too depressing. I loved a beautiful woman once, and that was enough for me. But you have to understand, that’s not everyone’s journey. We have to be careful putting our stuff onto other people. We are all different. Maybe your dad needs a companion. Likely, he felt lonely without one. Some people are just like that.” He patted my arm. “If he found love twice, that’s even better. Many are lucky to find it once. Twice is a miracle from God.”

I reflected on his words as I released the last of the peas into the bowl. King could be right. My extreme extroverted Dad loved being around people. He always needed company. I couldn’t think of too many times when he wasn’t surrounded by others. And yes, I had put my expectations on him. Perhaps that wasn’t fair.

But then, the redhead Meredith flashed in my mind. I still could not reconcile him picking her, but why she selected him had always bothered me the most. People used my father—desperate people, hurt people, but mostly, poor people. Meredith, a waitress, had nothing when he met her. Of course, she wanted him for his money. But then, I thought about her lifestyle. It had not changed. She still wore bohemian clothes off the rack, not designer ones. Her jewelry looked handmade, not expensive. She continued to drive her beat-up sedan, rather than drive the fancy new sports car Dad bought her last Christmas. She did say she’d drive an electric car if he bought her one, but that was just because she was a hippy trying to save the planet.

I walked to the sink to wash off my hands, still thinking it through. I looked down on Meredith, because I needed to, but I had never processed any of it. If she truly was after Dad’s money, why did she continue to live like she did?

Henry came behind me and handed me a hand towel. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“I’m just thinking about what your dad said. It’s impactful.”

“How so?”

“Talk about it later, okay?”

“Okay.” He glanced at his dad. “I’m going to run to the car and get our bags. I’ll be back shortly. Dad, don’t start drilling her or telling her awkward baby stories while I’m gone.”

His dad laughed. “You can trust me, son.”

“I better.” Henry kissed me on the cheek, then left.

“Here you go.” I retrieved the bowl of peas and handed them to the King. “Need anything else?”

“Thank you, no. You can just sit and watch now. I’m close to being done.”

“So, how did you get the name King?” I slid onto a stool at the counter. “Chicken or the egg?”

The man laughed a hardy laugh. “Definitely the chicken. When we moved here, my wife made a joke that a town like Castle Rock needed a king. So, when she passed away, I changed the name of my store to The King’s Furniture in her honor. She would have loved it.”

“And everyone just started calling you King?”

“Almost immediately. Started in our local newspaper and just grew from there. I knew it would make her smile, so I encouraged it.” He pointed at the salt.

I slid it across the counter. “I like that I’m dating the son of royalty. It makes my man a prince.”

King hooted deep from the gut.

I could not help but like this guy.

“And you, my girl, are his princess. I can tell by the way he looks at you.”

That sent a shiver down my spine. No one had ever “liked” me…well not since Andy Scott.

Henry discarded our bags into some rooms in back, then helped carry containers and trays to the long mahogany farmer’s table.

King carved the turkey and slid two slices onto my plate.

We passed around the mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and stuffing. Just when I didn’t think I could fit more on my plate, King arrived with more. I scooped some sweet potatoes smothered in charred marshmallows on a small opening, then made room for peas, strawberry gelatin salad, and finished off with a flaky butter roll. After eating servant food for weeks, this piled-high heaven made me want to sing. I intended to eat every bite, even if it made me sick.

While we dined, we talked and laughed.

Henry spoke at ease in his father’s presence. His dad shared story after story. Having lost his wife so early, they had obviously created a strong bond between father and son.

I recognized that well. I only wished I had longer with Dad. It could have solidified our relationship into this. What I witnessed today made me realize that the introduction of Meredith only caused division. My old feelings threatened to surface again. Even if she married him for the right reasons, it still hurt. Renewed rage for the redheaded hippy returned. I needed to be good right now, but I didn’t want to. I craved revenge. Luckily, we were fifteen hours away. I could cool off before I saw her again.

Finished, we cleared the table, and King brought out some pumpkin pie.

I smothered mine in whipped cream.

King laughed. “Wow, you like the good stuff, I see.”

“I like a little bit of pie to go with my whipped cream, yeah.” I winked.

“Coffee?” he asked, walking to the pot on his stove.

“Always.” I lifted my mug.

He crossed back to fill it.

“Do you have milk and sugar?”

He nodded and supplied me with both.

“Son, coffee?”

Henry shook his head, all but one bite of his pie gone. “I’m good.”

King returned the pot to the stove.

With each bite of the pie, I calmed down a bit more. Sugar usually pacified the wild beast in me.

After dinner, Henry and I decided to take a walk.

I needed it desperately. Hand-in-hand, we strolled down the lazy town in front of the various storefronts, each closed for the holidays. The cobblestone streets and quaint buildings reminded me of a movie set in the 1950s. It was way more peaceful than the craziness of Los Angeles I endured day-to-day.

Henry guided us behind the main street to a small hiking trail. The smell of pine trees filtered through the air. No traffic, smog, or people to distract us—just silence and nature. The only sound came from the scraping of our shoes, the tapping of woodpeckers, and the cooing of doves. A slight breeze swept through the street. I pulled my jacket closer and tucked my hands in my pockets. “It’s so beautiful here,” I said, cutting the silence.

“Yeah, it was a great place to live.”

“Do you ever miss it?” I asked.

He reached out his hand.

I slipped mine from my pocket into his.

“Yeah, a lot. LA can be a bit much.”

“You think?” I giggled. “I mean…traffic, wall-to-wall people, fires, drought, high prices, smog, and backstabbing, dog-eat-dog aspiring artists. What’s not to love about my hometown?”

“Most likely, if I wasn’t trying to make it in the entertainment industry, I don’t think I’d stay. How about you? Ever thought about leaving and going somewhere else?”

“No, up until this crazy fairy godmother debacle, I never thought about doing anything different than to live the life I was living.” I glanced around at the rows of pine trees and the scampering squirrels. “But I could get used to this. Move to the Castle and live with my prince.”

He stopped and pulled me into his chest.

His icy hand tilted my chin, and his mouth found mine. Our cold lips warmed. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he hugged me tighter. The kiss felt passionate, but sweet. We drew back and shared smiles.

“I happen to like you a lot.” His gaze studied mine. “You know that, right?”

“The feeling is mutual.” I pecked his lips with mine again. “You’re stuck with me now.”

His smile waned a bit.

Likely, he probably wondered if that was true. He now believed me, that I could disappear from his life on New Year’s Eve, well in its current state. He had shared with me on the drive; he feared a future like that. “Yeah, me, too,” I said, reading his thoughts.

He kissed my nose. “So, explain before and during dinner. You said you had something to tell me later, and then you seemed upset when we were eating. What’s up?”

Amazing that he could detect my frustration during dinner. He read me so easily. I had tried hard to hide it and not explode. But I guess years of wearing my heart on my sleeve had not done me any favors. “I’ll start with dinner. It’s hard to watch you and your dad.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You are both so close. He didn’t remarry like my dad did, and so you both had just each other for a long period of time. I wanted that relationship with my dad so bad. I never got it to that extent. I guess, it just hurts a little to see what I could have had, but I’m fine.”

“To let someone new into your life is hard. But Meredith seems like she’s a nice person. Maybe you could—”

Blood shot hot through my veins. I yanked back. “Now you’re taking her side.”

He held up his hands. “Whoa. I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m just trying to find you a silver lining, that’s all. Something that doesn’t involve you spiking her shampoo or plastic wrapping her toilet.”

Despite how I felt, I laughed. I probably shouldn’t have shared my prank ideas on the ride up here. “I can’t guarantee those things won’t happen.”

A smirk pinched at the corner of his mouth. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

I reached for his hand and fastened it with mine. “You make me happy. She doesn’t.”

“We don’t have to talk about her then, if it makes you upset,” he added, “But you said you’d tell me something later?”

So much for not talking about her. “I always assumed Meredith wanted to marry my dad for his money, but I started thinking about how she lives, you know, ugly clothes, cheap jewelry, and rundown car. None of that says ‘marriage for money.’ So, I guess I concluded that might not be true.”

“Well, that’s good, right?”

I was not in the mood to give her a pass. “So how about we enjoy our holiday and not talk about this anymore.”

“Okay, deal.” He slid a hand at my waist.

I rested my head on his shoulder and breathed deeply.

We remained there for a moment, both staring out at the snowy trees.

“Ready to go back for seconds? I think Dad also has pecan pie.”

“I love pie, but it’s the whipped cream that makes the dessert.”

“I don’t know, I think you could have used little more with your last serving.”

“How about you just give me the tub and a spoon and leave me be?”

He kissed my nose. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Yes, the way I liked it. Whatever I say. I laughed as we made our way back to the house for more pie and, of course, whipped cream.