Page 7 of All Hale the Queen

She stops me when she goes up on her tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to my cheeks. “Hush. It’s the least I can do.”

As I walk down the sidewalk, my shoes squishing out water with every step, I can’t help but whistle a little Irish tune my grandfather used to sing. I turn to look back at the house and see Ophelia standing on the porch. Though I’ve been looking at her for hours now, I still find it a little difficult to catch my breath. Her shirt is draped off one shoulder, and she has her wavy hair tucked behind her ears. Absolutely exquisite.

I wave her inside and wait until she does before getting into the car.

“Goddamn,” I say aloud, dragging a hand down my face. “I might need to take one of those mastabbaticals.”

Chapter 3

Ophelia

PLUCK

“Ow.”

PLUCK

“Ow.”

PLUCK

“Dammit, I think I’m bleeding,” I say to the mirror, checking my reflection for blood.

“Are you talking to me?” Claudia calls from my closet.

“I’m talking to my chin.”

She pops her head into my bathroom, a scowl marring her pretty face. “Have you gone completely loo-loo, Ophelia?”

I hold up the tweezers. “Look at this hair I just plucked from my chin. It’s got a root on it the size of an onion bulb.”

She walks toward me, squinting her hazel eyes at my tweezers. “Wow. That’s impressive. I think you’re entering your lumberjack era.”

Rubbing my fingertips across my chin, I feel for any more offending hairs. “Very funny. I can’t wait till you hit perimenopause and start growing a grill brush from your face.”

Her mocha-skinned face scrunches. “A grill brush?”

I set down my tweezers and face the magnifying mirror again, inspecting myself. “You know those brushes with the metal bristles you use to clean off a barbecue grill? That’s the approximate texture of the hairs that have suddenly decided to sprout from my chin. They’re super wiry, and they grow like weeds. I just plucked last week, and they’re already back.”

Claudia sniffs indignantly. “I’ve decided to skip all that menopause shit. Hot flashes, mood changes, weight gain…” She slashes a hand through the air, making a whistling sound through her teeth. “Nope, I rebuke all of that.”

I smirk at her reflection as she picks up my hand lotion and sniffs. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, Claudia. You can’t just say you rebuke something and expect it not to happen.”

She shrugs and squirts a small dollop onto her hands, rubbing it in. “It’s my only hope. There’s no way the universe could be so cruel as to give me a toddler and menopause at the same time.”

“Where is Jayden this afternoon, by the way?” I ask. Claudia has been raising her three-year old grandson for the past year.

She sighs and sinks onto the ivory brocade bench seat against one wall of my bathroom. “Ronnie is in town for a visit, so I told him he needs to spend time with his son. I mean, is that really something that he needs to be told?”

I sit beside her. “How many times has Ronnie seen him since he moved?”

“This is only the second time. He calls once a week to talk to Jay, if we’re lucky.” She shakes her head, and her soft, black curls flounce around her ears. “I’m just not sure where we went wrong with that boy. His father was a good man, always helped around the house and spent time with Ronnie. So where is my son getting the idea thatthisis what fatherhood looks like?”

My lips turn down at the corners. “Do you think maybe he hasn’t dealt with losing his wife after the baby was born?”

Claudia inhales and exhales a long breath. “Hell if I know. He refuses to talk about it. I’ve suggested therapy, but he says music is his therapy.”

“But moving all the way to Nashville to pursue a music career and leaving his son to be raised by his grandmother? I’m sorry, but that’s just selfish, Claudia.”