Page 61 of Royally Arranged

HAWTHORNE

Torino was under assault by, according to the locals, the worst heat wave in decades. Everyone walked around in a dizzy haze with their hair tied up off their necks, sweat clinging to their bodies.

I wasn’t bothered by it. Yes, it was fucking hot as hell, but it lacked the smothering humidity that was torturing everyone in Rhode Island at the moment. Being on the coast here alleviated the weather with the occasional cool ocean breeze.

“You’re sure you’re not miserable in that?” Nova asked me.

Lifting my arms, I stretched in the long sleeves of my thin Henley shirt. “Sounds like you’re trying to get me naked.”

She tried to hide her smile and failed spectacularly. “I’m only saying that I grew up in New England, too, and I’m dying in this weather.” Nova was in a flowing cotton dress the same color as a swan’s feather. Sweat made it cling to her curves.

Sliding my hand into hers, I leaned close. “Sorry you’re not enjoying it. Meanwhile,I’menjoying the results it’s having on everything you wear. More sun, more skin, more ... well, you.”

Nova turned pink. I’d gotten very good at making her blush. She clung to my hand, the two of us strolling down the street with the ocean to our right. The water was flat today. It was easy to imagine you could hop over the stone wall and walk toward the horizon line.

“Isn’t that your dad?” she asked, stopping on the sidewalk. I followed her eyes and spotted the scene in the street. A crowd had gathered, my father standing beside Glen, facing off with some men I didn’t know.

The strangers were dressed in khakis and polo shirts. Each of them looked progressively older than the man beside him, like I was seeing a peek into their future and who they would become. The oldest had thinning hair but a full gray beard. The youngest was probably my age; with a smooth face below his curly blond hair, he was on the heavier side of husky, his chin merging with his neck.

Maverick was saying ... or yelling ... something at the men. Glen was watching with his massive arms wound tight over his guard uniform. At their feet, lying in the street, were some pieces of heavy equipment. “Come on,” Nova said, pulling at me. “We should go see what’s going on.”

I resisted for a single second. It had been two weeks since I’d first opened my father’s diary. I had yet to speak a word to him about it. What would I even say?Your friend shared your most personal thoughts with me as a wedding gift! It was way better than the gravy boat Kain got us! Also, funny thing, but I guess you hated your dad, too?

I really had no clue how to begin talking to him. For all I knew, he wouldn’t want to discuss his childhood or his parental relationships. I certainly didn’t jump at the chance to do it. So I’d zipped my lips and gone about acting like things were the same. That nothing in me was tormented by the idea that my father mightactuallyhave been anything like me.

“Ridiculous,” Maverick said. “This food bank needs its pipes fixed so it can open again and help people! It’s been closed down, waiting for months for clean water!”

Food bank?Remembering the diary entry, I focused with more interest.

“Now, now,” the oldest man replied. “These things take time.”

“That’s what I’m saying.More than enoughtime has passed. I looked through the files, and I can’t find any reason why your company hasn’t fixed this yet.”

“Sounds like a red tape problem,” the old man said, shrugging. “We just do the jobs when we get to the jobs. If we didn’t do this one yet, I guarantee you it’s because someone didn’t sign all their paperwork.”

“You know this has nothing to do with paperwork,” Glen said, cutting in.

“You trying to imply something?” asked the youngest of the bunch.

“I don’t need to imply, Kinsey. I’ll say it flat out.” The head of the guards flexed his arms, corded muscle showing through his long sleeves. “Your palms have been greased so hard by whatever politician wants to shut this food bank down, that you couldn’t hold on to your own dignity if you tried.”

Kinsey leaned forward, chest puffing up. “No one calls the Larson family liars.” He turned, kicking one of the shovels that was leaning against the building behind them. It clattered into the street loudly. If people hadn’t been watching before, they were now.

Observing it all with a strange serenity was the man in the middle. He looked at the shovel, then back to my father. “You understand what’s going on here.” He reached up to smooth his thick hair. “What you got is a problem that no one is going to help you solve. You best quit wasting everyone’s time. This place isn’t getting its plumbing fixed. That’s the end of it.”

“Shameful,” Maverick said, scowling. “You came out here with your tools, and you’re seriously refusing to do your job?”

The oldest took a step closer to my father, considering him as the two men behind him looked on expectantly. “We happened to have another job in the area.”

“Bullshit. You’re taunting us, displaying your ability to perform the job, then openly choosing not to!”

Snorting, the old man scanned my father’s face. “Things have changed in Torino. This isn’t the place that you abandoned when things got too tough for you. Not all of us could run, we’ve made the best of what we could with what’s left over.”

My father squeezed his hands so hard that they started to shake. Wordlessly, he snatched a pickax from the pile of tools in the back of a truck parked beside them. The red paint on the side saidLARSONPLUMBING.

Ripping it high over his head, he flexed his upper body. The men, all of them, jumped back in surprise. Nova clutched my sleeve, just as shocked. I realized I’d been holding my breath as I watched the scene.

Grunting wildly, Maverick slammed the pickax into the street. “What the hell are you doing?” the youngest man, Kinsey, asked as he started forward. He retreated when my father began frantically chopping at the concrete.

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