Page 138 of Even After This
“You are still the handsome prince. You just have a different costume,” I say, walking around the edge of the car. I peek back and add, “It’s more organic to the original roots of the play.”
“Meredith,” Harlan says, stone-faced with a playful warning tone.
“It was her idea to do the play to announce to everyone that we’re engaged.” I shrug as if to say what can we do? “I think we have to go with it.”
Grinning, I get into the car and buckle my seat belt. Harlan does the same, then looks to me, then to Alex, then back to me.
Shaking his head, he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the space. “I don’t think you two should shop alone anymore. You seem to get into a lot of trouble. And I don’t even know what you guys have planned yet.”
I glance back to Alex, we lock eyes, and we both laugh.
Harlan once told me he loved the sound of my laughter. But I like Alex’s better.
With my stomach in knots and our audience in place, it seems we’re ready for our Twelve Bluebells Ranch production of “The Three Billy Goats Gruff.”
Prissy and Harlan’s family sit on the front row of folding chairs that face the back porch of the ranch house. The second row holds my parents, Molly, and her family. Sally insisted she and her kids sit in the back row because Toby and Layla like to work the crowd.
The good news is that our stage debut coincided with Easter weekend, so my family can be in the audience. The bad news is that I’m missing Claire, who stayed home to be with her parents, but she has known I’m engaged since the day Harlan put a ring on my finger because that’s what happens with best friends.
I smile at Claire over FaceTime. “He’s going to kill me,” I say through a giggle.
“Please tell me that whatever he’s wearing, you’re going to post this on social media so the world can see,” she says from her parents’ backyard swing.
“Not on your life. He wants no part of publicity.”
Her face softens. “I kind of love that for you. You don’t have the pressure of the spotlight.”
No one wants my story plastered for the public. But it’s more. He told me he wants to focus on our life here and let his mentoring take root. He’ll still be connected to the industry, so I still need to work on being around famous people. But for the most part, for us, we’ll just be a normal family here at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
“Are you wearing your cowboy boots?” she asks.
I move the camera down to show the Texas flags on my boots. “Only because a small pink fairy named Alex told me I could.”
“Maybe she’ll be a costume designer someday.”
“Just wait until you see Harlan. Okay, I’m handing you off to Penelope, who is going to keep FaceTime going during the show. Love you.”
The chiffon layers of my long, pink princess gown flow against my legs as I step to Penelope and hand her my phone.
She nods, gives Claire a quick hello, and says to me, “Showtime. Everyone is in their place.”
“Even Harlan?”
Penelope can’t keep a straight face. It’s subtle, but her lips twitch with a small smile. “He refused to go on stage and told me to call his agent.”
I cover my hand with my mouth and laugh. “What did you do?”
“I sicced Alex on him. It worked. He’s in place.”
Penelope. Beautiful, kind, and the most brilliant, efficient, and productive person I know.
I step to take my place at the side of the porch, knowing Harlan is behind the door to the house so he can make a grand entrance at the end of the play.
Harlan cracks the door open. I can’t see much, but he is for sure glaring at me. “I cannot believe you did this to me.”
I purse my lips, trying not to laugh. “It was Alex’s idea. She’s the writer and director of this production.”
“I feel sure you could have told her that this particular getup wasn’t available.”
