I racked my brain trying to think of a good story and laughed when, for some reason, I thought of my horrible first—and last—date with Rip.
“So there was once this servant girl who was in love with the prince,” I started, and I laughed when Ben groaned. “Hey, we’ll tell a bloody story next!”
“OK!” he said quickly, and he went quiet again.
“Anyway…” I cleared my throat. “She was really loud where the prince was quiet, she was messy, he was clean, she almost always had some sort of stain on her shirt.” I could feel Rip stiffen beside me, but I didn’t dare look his way. “But one day the handsome prince decided to take her on a picnic. She was so nervous that she spilled pop on herself and on him, and when he leaned in to help her, she thought he was going to give her true love’s kiss!”
Viera sighed. “They were going to make a baby!”
I nearly choked but recovered quickly. “Well, I’m not sure about that,” I said before continuing. “He didn’t kiss her. He was just trying to clean up the pop, so she got super embarrassed and ran away…” Why the hell would I tell this story again?
Viera sighed. “Did he chase her?”
“No,” Rip finished. “But he should have. That’s what a good prince does… right, Viera?”
Really? Was that what he really thought? I turned my head to find Rip staring right at me, his eyes flashing as he slid his hand across the bed and squeezed mine. “You always chase the girl, even if she drives you crazy. A true gentleman always apologizes. He doesn’t make girls cry.”
“I don’t make girls cry,” Ben piped up.
I couldn’t speak as Rip held my hand tight.
I didn’t trust my voice.
And a stupid tear slid down my cheek.
Rip saw it.
He released my hand quickly and spoke. “He didn’t go after her, but if he had, he would have said, ‘Let’s go on a picnic again, and I’m sorry I made you sad.’ Princes sometimes don’t have the best manners, and what Aunt Colby didn’t share is that this prince lost his parents just like you guys.”
I tried not to flinch when he mentioned a story I already knew—his story, their story, the one that set Monica and Rip on a path so vastly different from everyone else’s.
One that Monica told me the day we became best friends.
It was easier not thinking about it, because it made Monica sad and it made Rip go into protective mode. The fact that he was even talking about it shocked me.
He continued with his story, and I tried to keep the tears in. He was opening up, and it broke me to hear his voice say these words, tell this story. “He was sad and angry, and he took it out on the servant girl because she was kind. Sometimes when we feel things on the inside that we don’t understand, we get angry on the outside.”
“Like you got angry today at jujitsu?” Ben asked innocently.
I covered my mouth so the kids wouldn’t see my smile.
“Yes.” He shot me a smirk. “Like today at jujitsu.”
“Cool.” Ben yawned. “That was gangster, Uncle Rip.”
I mouthed, “What the heck?” to Rip.
“Yup.” Rip nodded. “Straight gangster, yo…”
My eyes flew open wide and a laugh slipped out. “Never say that again.”
“Uncle Rip’s so ollllld.” Ben joined in my laughter, and then Viera was laughing, and we were a group of giggling adults and kids.
It felt nice.
I wanted to exist in that moment forever.
But too soon it was gone.