Page 40 of Good at Being Alive
“Wendy actually has a title now, thanks to her husband,” Peter says. “And he’s still in line for the throne, yes?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but with all these grandchildren being born, I’d say the odds are not in his favor.”
I could mention that Queen Victoria was fifth in line, that George I was fiftieth. I don’t because Wendy seems smug enough without the information.
Questions are asked about the show, about Iceland, and our upcoming trip to Italy. Peter asks where we’re going to settle and I say, “The Maldives,” just as Theo says, “Probably Primrose Hill.”
“Already a lover’s spat and they’re only a month in,” mutters Bryce. “Theo scoops up all the prettiest ones but doesn’t know how to treat them.”
There are looks exchanged and someone quietly tells Bryce to shut the fuck up before Peter gamely attempts to make a joke about it. “I hope Theo warned you what you were in for with the lot of us.”
I respond with a nervous laugh. “Not really. I know you all grew up together, and that’s about it.”
“Oh, that’s rich,” says Bryce. “He told you wegrew uptogether?”
“Bryce, stop,” says Wendy before she turns to me. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous because Theo’s the only one of us who’s made millions. We did all grow up together. Theo and Kieran’s mother worked for our family for many years, and they lived on the grounds. That’s about as close as growing up with us as one can get.”
I blink at Theo in surprise. Everything about him reeks of privilege. I never envisioned him being from the other side of the tracks—the British version of it, anyway. But it explains some things, too—that hint of grittiness in him occasionally, like with Caden in Iceland. It wasn’t arefinedresponse at all but a “you’ve got two seconds to back off or I’ll make you regret it” sort of response.
I liked it more than I should have.
“Yes, yes,” Bryce says. “No one can argue that Theo and Kieran didn’t make the most of the opportunities they were given. They went to the best schools—”
“And did far better afterward than you,” Ross says.
Bryce grimaces. “I was getting to that. Anyway, they both made the most of the little they started off with, and no one can fault them for it. But you know what’s implied when someone says they grew up with you.”
Theo’s face is carefully blank. He doesn’t look especially bothered by anything that’s been said but more…accustomedto it. “Ignore him,” he tells me. “He’s had too much to drink, which is something one generally assumes anytime Bryce is in public.”
“Which is what has always made me so much more fun than you,” Bryce replies. “Fat lot of good it did me.”
Wendy swats his arm, leaning toward me. “There’s a class system in England that you really don’t have in the States. And Brycehashad a lot to drink.”
She’s defending Theo, but he behaves as if she hasn’t spoken. As if she’s invisible to him. Why?
“I’m simply objecting to the phrasing!” Bryce shouts. “You know I’m right. Or did you not want your sweet young wife to realize how humble your origins are?”
Theo’s hand flexes. “I have no issue with my origins, though you may think a bit highly of your own.”
Bryce rolls his eyes. “He’s spent too much time in the States, clearly. I was just having a bit of fun.”
“Interesting,” I reply. “In the States we call that being a bit of a prick, but you do you.”
Peter laughs. “That’s what we call it here too. I’m beginning to see why you married her, Theo.”
“It would be refreshing if we could spend two minutes tonightnotdiscussing how wonderful Theo is,” Bryce announces.
Ross jumps in, suggesting a game of billiards…and suddenly I find myself at the large table with only Wendy and Peter.
She raises her glass to me. “Well, we thought he couldn’t be reformed. You need to write a book on what magic you’ve used to make him commit.”
Peter frowns, as if she’s alluded to something she shouldn’t have.
I set my glass down. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, don’t you know?” she asks. “Our Theo dated absolutelyeveryoneuntil he met Fi, and afterthatdebacle, he got a thousand times worse. We thought he’d never let himself get tied down again.”
She wants me to be needled by this. She wants me to admit I don’t know who Fi is, so she can reveal some sketchy story about my husband I’m obviously unaware of: an ex he’s not over, an underage girl he got caught with. Something that will make me doubt him or the depth of our relationship. Best case, she wants me to know I wasn’t his first choice, and if so, the joke’s on her: I know that better than anyone alive. And I’m never anyone’s first choice, anyway.
