<Tina HBB “TruRomantic”
HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie”>
Mia, r u back? How was it?
Yes, I’m back. I guess you heard the news?
You mean you didn’t announce it?
Of course I didn’t announce it.
Oh, Mia, I’m so sorry! I did kind of wonder, because the details about the ring were wrong. I was like, “Did Michael get a different ring at the last minute”? And it’s more your style to let your closest friends know about things before announcing them to the press.
You think?
Wait, are you being sarcastic?
Yes, sorry. I’m just upset right now.
I’m sorry! But congratulations, anyway! Were you surprised?
Of course I was surprised! It was amazing. Best trip—best birthday—best time of my life! Until now. Thanks for helping Michael to plan it, anyway.
And you like the ring?
I LOVE the ring. I love love love it. I’m just so sorry you had to hear the news from the press. FYI, I’ve decided not to go on the Internet anymore, especially after all this. You know this morning I saw a majestic stingray leap from the water for the sheer joy of it and now I realize I am wasting too much of the short time I’ve been given here on this planet worrying about my online social media image.
Oh. That’s cool about the stingray, but what’s wrong with your social media image? I think you do a fine job with it.
You mean Dominique does, but thanks for saying so. The whole point, though, is why do we even have to have a social media image? Stingrays don’t, and they live totally fulfilled lives.
Stingrays don’t have higher-functioning cerebral cortexes, so they don’t have the ability to worry about things like their online presence.
Oh. Good point.
Also they leap out of the water in order to catch food or avoid predators or to get rid of parasites that are bothering them. I don’t think they experience intense emotions like joy.
I’m not going to say it’s pointless to argue with Tina about more esoteric things these days (especially given what happened with Boris), but she has developed a tendency since starting medical school to insist there’s a scientific explanation for almost everything.
OK, Tina.
That’s when I got another message. It was from a member of the Moscovitz family, but not the one I was hoping to hear from.
<Lilly Moscovitz “Virago”
HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie”>
I suppose I should say “mazel tov” but really? Then again, the best friend is always the last to know.
I’m sorry! We were going to tell you in person, Lilly, but “someone” blabbed to the press. One guess as to who the someone was.
Really? You told Clarisse before you told your BFF?
Of course not. I think she must have weasled it out of the help.
Why doesn’t the CIA hire your grandmother to interrogate terror suspects? She does a much better job than they do of getting classified information.
Sadly, Lilly’s right.
Actually, now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t Mo Mo, but the chef, Gretel, who Grandmère managed to con out of all the intel about Michael’s proposal to me. I knew there was something sweetly gullible about her. Her hair was flat-ironed. Who bothers to flat-iron their hair in the tropics?
Someone who’s anxious to leave there, that’s who, and so willing to accept bribes from my grandmother.
I should have known. Paradise, my butt.
And to think, I fantasized about moving there forever.
CHAPTER 22
3:45 p.m., Monday, May 4
Still in the HELV, still on the WSH
Rate the Royals Rating: 1
Finally got through to Michael. He wasn’t picking up because he was on the phone with his parents. They heard it on 1010 WINS, New York’s twenty-four-hour news radio station.
I told him I was so, so sorry.
“It’s all right,” he said. “They actually didn’t believe it until I told them it was true. They thought it was only a rumor, like the time the Post announced you were carrying Prince Harry’s royal twins.”
Great.
“Are they mad?”
He hesitated. “. . . No, of course not.”
“Michael, I can tell you’re lying. You have the same tone of voice that you get when I ask you if I look terrible in khaki shorts.”
“No one looks good in khaki shorts. And they’re not mad that we’re getting married, just upset that you aren’t converting to Judaism. They’re very concerned about how I’m going to be able to keep kosher in the palace.”
“Michael! Stop it. It’s not funny.”
“Also, that when I become Prince Michael of Genovia, my children are going to be Renaldos and not Moscovitzes.”
I stopped laughing. “Wait . . . they really did say that last thing, didn’t they?”
“Well, I’m their only son, so you can understand their concern. I think they’re torn between the idea of losing a son and the idea of gaining a prince. I told them not to worry, that in the unlikely event Lilly ever gets married, she won’t take her husband’s name, so her kids will be Moscovitzes. Weirdly, this didn’t seem to placate them.”
“Of course it didn’t,” I said. “Lilly swore off men her junior year in college.” I knew better than to mention the thing about Lars, especially with Lars sitting right there in the car. I thought it would be good for him to hear the thing about her having sworn off men, though. Lars’s ego is inflated enough. “She says she’s never getting married. How could you forget?”