9th ♕

"Clean as you go policy, kids!" old man shouted.

I felt an easy grin steadied on my lips. "Chill, Abram."

"George!" Old man couldn't help but show his excitement when he saw me. This might be the usual thing that would happen when a familiar face returned after a month of disappearance. "What are you doing here?"

"I need a break sometimes," I told him, hesitantly nodding to Donna, a volunteer, who was looking at me in a strange way ever since I stepped in the shelter.

"I love you!" she shrieked all of a sudden. "I love you! Oh, my gosh. You're here! You're..."

Okay, so she loved me all of a sudden. She'd been here for almost a year now, and never did it come to my knowing that she saw me more than a formation of molecules. So sweet. That was very nice of her to say. She surprisingly loved me, quite affectionately, let me say.

Donna was near fainting from what I saw. She was fanning her face—it was summer, so it might be a given—with her free hand. The other one was holding a mop, that was soon after slammed back to its place.

"Can I take a picture with you?" Donna began fumbling for her phone. "My friends didn't believe me when I told them that we were working together in the shelter."

"Um, sure," I stammered, posing with her as she took a picture of us.

So maybe the last four weeks had been filled with everyone taking my picture or a picture with me at every possible instance. Whenever my face was available to lean on to or catch a glimpse of, people usually click their cameras around me.

Despite the daily makeovers that Lenora and her team were doing to me, there were still—very often, I must admit—instances when Art would stalk the internet and show me laughable poses and awkward smiles that I'd been doing around town.

Well, just because he had perfected the smile a long time ago, it didn't mean he could laugh at me whenever. But I forgave him, anyway. He was still the prince I was being molded to be a princess for. What choice did I have? He was highly involved in the job description.

"Thank you!" Donna said after our little photo op, hugging me tight.

"It's okay. Um, can I..." I tried telling her, not sure if it was right to push her a little bit away from me just so I could breathe.

"George!" Pete came around the chaotic scene. Tapping Donna's shoulder just in time, he added, "Donna, the hug is getting long. She finds it hard to breathe."

"Sorry!" Donna got startled that she instinctively pushed me away.

I ended up tripping to Pete, who firmly held me on the shoulders to stop me from dancing around the room in a very random and inspiring way. Bridgette and I hadn't got to that portion of our training yet.

"Thanks, Pete. So nice of you to be around when I'm falling," I said, straightening the skirt Lenora told me—with all due strict briefing that I shouldn't, never ever, no matter what the situation was—to refrain removing from myself. The sand-colored plaited skirt was paired up with a black tee. The new get-up for me was finished by a nude colored flat shoes and white hair band.

This time, I wasn't complaining to myself all day. At least I wasn't wearing high heels.

"Georgey! How long has it been?" Pete turned me around and wrapped me in his arms, his fresh cologne filling my lungs. "I've missed you!"

"A month? Not that long to hold me like I have a terminal illness. I've missed you too, but this is awkward. We can miss each other without really hugging or anything," I told him, moving away, but he only tightened his arms, like he was doing it on purpose. Pete, the only person I expected to treat me differently, was acting just like everyone else.

"I missed you," he continued chanting.

"Have you ever thought that maybe because you're like this that you were never able to land a date with Darcy?" I started saying to him after everyone already gave up on hugging me next, because Pete appeared like he wasn't near letting go.

"Ha!" He suddenly jolted, holding me on my shoulders again and moving me away from him, so that we were looking at each other this time. "Darcy and I have gone on a date, Georgey."

"What? No," I vehemently denied. "You little sneaky guy, why didn't you tell me?"

"I called you. You answered as if you were practicing your princess lines with me," he accused me, finally letting me go.

I tried moving my arms. They still seemed to be there, much to my relief. "Did I do that?"

"Yes! I called you right after she agreed to have coffee with me!" he said, a winning smile tracing his lips.

"Coffee?" I speculated. "Did she ask you to help her with something while having coffee?"

"No." Pete started to sound defensive.

"Yes," I concluded.

"No. It's just about a little summer class that she's taking and I already passed last semester," he told me.

"So yes."

"Coffee is good," he said, convinced.

"Maybe Darcy is just waiting for you to ask her out for a real date," I said to him. "I'm going to Dog. Talk to me again when you two are an item."

"Any news?" He caught up with me as I walked along.

"My dad's back." I gave him the look.

"What?"

"Yeah. Big news, right? I even have to sneak out my clothes and hide them in my bag when I leave. Good thing your mom knows what I'm up to, so she takes care of my other things. The princess-related stuff," I said.

"Must be hard. How long will he be staying?" he asked me, deeply concerned.

"Not sure. He seemed to be warming up in our house. Good thing he's always busy with his guitar, so he rarely watches the TV. You know, composing songs. Oh, wait, Mom already messed up with the plug, so it's not like Dad has money to buy a new TV. So for now, everything is well."

"Have you ever thought of what you will do if he finds out?"

"Not yet. But better if he's the one to know. You know my dad, he's not really much of a talker. I just can't imagine it if my real mom is the one who will hear the news. I'm still amazed how she haven't heard of it yet. It must be the twins," I said warily.

I had this crazy way of thinking when my parents came into mind, particularly Mom no. 1. I knew her, and I couldn't deny her tendency to use people to her benefit. She was an opportunist to simply put it.

'Forties is not a bad age to launch off a career,' I could almost hear her voice inside my head.

Then she would mess this only means of living that I had recently found. She'd likely do that. It was so natural for her to take on any kind of break crossing her way. Just imagine everyone finding out that she was my real mother. It was bad enough that she wasn't around. But if she did come around now, it could be even worse.

Some things were beyond my control. I couldn't choose who would be my parents. I only wanted a simple life. A simple family. I was wrong for lying during the interview. I could have been honest with everyone from the start, but my scars were far too ugly to show.

Maybe I was just like Mom no. 1, or even Dad. I might have taken that those traits from them with what I was doing right now. Selfish and an opportunist, for all I knew, genes and all.

Hideous.

"Wait! I remembered! George, you're still in our team for the meet in this upcoming Triavia Summer Sports Festival, right?" Pete caught up with me as we were walking to the kennel.

"Hey, Dog!" I went to Dog right when I saw him.

Dog wagged his tail madly, getting hyped. I really missed this fellow. I grabbed the paper bag where I'd placed some of Hero's treat that I nicely asked from Art. He was more than happy to give me some, and said that he'd buy more when he'd go back to the pet shop.

Talk about being a beggar.

But one should never say no to any blessing coming her way. My paycheck, according to Bridgette, would be given to me next, next Monday. I still had two weeks before I'd hold it in my hands. Beggar or not, I hardly cared if I could help around with our monthly bills at home.

"George, yes or no?" Pete asked me as I was tickling Dog's belly. He wasn't in the kennel, but was permitted to go around the backyard. Dog was very tamed and often lazy to even be a threat to any.

"Yeah," I answered.

"It's not illegal?"

"For?"

"You to be in that competition," Pete finished.

"I don't think so. I signed a contract before, and there were no rules about not participating in a sports event," I told him. "I'll ask Bridgette later."

"Bridgette?"

"My, believe it or not, secretary," I broke the news to him.

He wasn't able to answer for a while.

"Sweet, huh?"

"You bigtime. What kind of person needs a secretary?" Pete shook his head lightly.

"Many, apparently. I'm one of them now. If I don't have a secretary, I swear I will forget half of what I'm supposed to do in one day," I replied, getting up. Dog sat beside my left leg, leaning close.

"Do you do that many things in 24 hours?"

"You won't believe how hectic a day could be if you don't see her planner."

"Then how can you be here today?" Pete brought up the million-dollar question.

"Good guess. I'm in the middle of some... I forgot the name. Something to do with a golf club, I think, a horse, and a ball," I said, thinking over the term that they'd used. "I'm just taking a break. They're having tea right now. I excused myself thirty minutes ago. Bridgette told me to get back before an hour, or they will notice."

"Tea?"

"Tea," I confirmed. "You see that big guy over there, that's Jack, my bodyguard. I'm teaching him how to sneak out every now and then. It's just so stressful having all these things coming to you at once."

"You hate tea," Pete pointed out.

"I know. I don't really drink them," I said, laughing. When I looked at Jack, he was talking on his radio earpiece. "I wonder what he's up to."

"Ask him," Pete said, also looking at Jack, who was now securing the area.

"Did..." I stopped, thinking. "Could it be that the reporters had followed me here? But that's impossible."

Pete concluded, "You're really living up to the terms of being royal."

In a moment, I saw someone walking inside the backyard. We were just standing there and a bunch of black-suited bodyguards came in the scene. As per my preference, Jack wore civilian clothes when on the job. But being royal bodyguards, the five more of Jack's kind, who entered the scene, were all fully-geared.

It could only mean one thing.

"George!" Art called out. He was wearing a uniform of the sport they were playing this morning. A bit of mud stuck on his white pants, but he was still Art. A prince. Somehow, their kind never had to appear untidy.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, looking for any sign of other people tagging behind. "Are you alone? Well, except for the usual fellows who come as your entourage?"

"I'm here to pick you up, what else?" Art said to me. He noticed Pete, who was standing beside me. "And hello. I'm Arthur. You must be her friend."

"Pete." Pete extended his hand to shake his hand.

"Ah, Pete. George talks a lot about you," Art said, smiling.

"I guess I don't have to introduce you two anymore." I checked around for any sign of reporters hiding in the trees or bungee jumping from a building just to take a picture.

You could easily think on crazy level nowadays.

The two of them started talking, and Art completely forgot that he was here to fetch me. I took the opportunity to play with Dog some more, making him bring back things and giving him a treat as a reward. Continuing their profound conversation, Art and Pete even sat on the bottom of the rusty bleachers that was stacked in this huge backyard for no reason.

I heard my name being mentioned a couple of times. Apparently, I was the huge topic in their unexpected conversation. They looked incredibly amused, laughing along. Well, it did appear like I couldn't help but be that hilarious.

It was Jack who approached me. "Princess, we should go now."

"Is it already three o'clock?" I asked Jack.

"Ten minutes before," Jack answered.

Apparently, Jack and I were talking now. This had first started when he scolded me for running away after the talk show interview. He said that his job was on the line, and that I shouldn't do it again. He had also hinted that if I would ever think of sneaking out, I should tell him, and he would follow without a word, or tell anyone else, except during certain instances—based on his judgment—when he should.

"Let's go, then," I said to Jack.

"You should have seen her face when she told me that Rod asked her to prom," Pete said.

"Who's Rod?" Art asked inquisitively.

"Not anyone important. I hate to break it to you two, but we need to go, Art. Your mother might scold us again if not," I said.

"What time is it?" Art asked me.

"Almost three," I told him.

"It might not be a good idea to be late," Art agreed.

"Pete, we'll talk about the things you openly disclosed a moment ago. You're so in trouble, buddy. I might even have a chat with Darcy, who knows? But do us all a favor and avoid talking to the paparazzi like that, okay?" I said to Pete.

"Of course not. It just came to my knowing that I could, for the first time, tell stories about you to someone. He's your prince, either way. He should know things," Pete said, smiling innocently. Things. Of course. I knew what he meant. Pete once told me that keeping secrets like this would come back to haunt me one of these days. I just hoped it would come around after a paycheck or two.

"Bye, Pete." I waved my hand.

When I looked at Art, while we were riding the limo back to where the game was being held, for the first time, I considered telling him the truth. He would understand. He was that kind of person.

But after that, what then?

I couldn't seem to decide from there. The mess I'd created seemed to be getting bigger each day. I was no one. There wasn't much they could take away from me, unlike him. I could put my life and dignity on the line, to a certain extent, but it would be way too much to drag down another person while at it.

"We're going to be late," Art said under his breath, looking outside at the bumper to bumper traffic.

"It was fine thirty minutes ago," I said.

"Will we make it?" Art asked Jack, who came and rode with us in the limo.

Jack looked at his watch. "I'm afraid not."

"I see." Art exhaled, disappointment in his voice. "I'll just call Bridge and tell her to let my mother know that we got stuck in traffic."

"Sorry," I told him quietly.

"Hmm?" He looked surprised. "For what?"

"About this," I said.

"Ahh... no, don't worry about it. We wouldn't be missing much. Will and Elaine will be there, and they have some big news to announce. There's nothing to worry about. They won't even realize that we weren't there," Art assured me.

"What announcement?"

"They're having a baby," Art said with a smile.

"That's great!" I exclaimed, unable to hide my enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I'm sure everyone will love to hear the news. It's been years, after all," Art replied.

"What about..." I paused, unsure if I should mention it.

"What about what?"

"Your birthday celebration?"

"That's not up until tomorrow. Maybe they'll come up with something. It doesn't matter," he dismissed the thought.

"Are you that happy to be an uncle?" I teased him. In truth, I hadn't heard about his birthday celebration from Bridgette. If there was really a big one, with him turning nineteen and finally having a princess-in-training, Bridgette or even Lenora would have told me. For tomorrow, I wasn't informed about any prestigious ball gowns. I was only expected to attend a dinner with his family.

"What else? I was looking forward to having a nephew or niece ever since," Art replied, relaxing on his seat.

"Will it be okay if we don't go back?" I asked after a while.

"Either way will be fine, Princess," Art replied. "Are you going to disappear again?"

"Not really. I was on my break a moment ago. It doesn't count as a disappearance. I told Bridgette how long I would be there," I said.

"Okay." Art held his hands up. "Point taken."

"Sorry about that," I muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed. Why did I have to explain myself thoroughly? I was on a legal break time until we got stuck in traffic.

Art laughed.

I turned to him again. "What I was saying is, could we go somewhere? There's a nice place I can take you. We can have an early celebration of your birthday."

"A celebration?" Art clearly didn't expect to hear that.

"Yeah, sort of. Since it's summer already, we can take a swim until sunset. I know a nice place that only a few go to. There's probably no one out there."

"There's a place like that?" Art asked me, looking pleased.

"Yeah. It's just a river. The water is clean. I know a shortcut to it. Pete and I often go there during summer. It's nothing big. Just something," I said.

"Are you doing this to make me feel better?"

"Not really. It's nothing, Art. Do I have to repeat it over again?"

"All right. Let's go. I just love it when you call me by my name," he conceded.

"Will that be okay, Jack?" I asked Jack, who was sitting on the front seat.

"Just as long as it's safe there, Princess," he answered me.

"I know, let's go camping," Art suddenly proposed.

"I disagree. We couldn't be sure that the place—" Jack was saying.

"Oh, come on. It's my birthday anyway, Jack. We have all sorts of things in the limo. We can easily set up a camping spot. There's around six of you. It's wouldn't be dangerous," Art cut him off. Camping? The only thing I had proposed was a dip in the water. Pete always took me swimming on my birthday, so I thought it would be good.

Oh, the things that I knew about humanity.

"We have camping equipments in this limo? Where?" I looked around.

"It's somewhere there. For emergency purposes," Art answered me, but he was looking at Jack for approval. My personal bodyguard must hold some position or highly favorable opinion with things. I wouldn't know. We hadn't been to that level where we told each other our deepest secrets.

"I'll inform Your Majesty's secretary later tonight," Jack finally said.

"Yes!" Art said, gushing with bliss.

"Okay. Camping. Wow," I muttered, looking at the traffic outside.

"Permission granted according to Ms. Sandra," Jack informed us after a while, closing his phone.

"Great! How about you, George?" Art asked me.

How about me? That was the question. I honestly answered, "I'm not sure my mom will let me. I'll call later."

Art was quiet for a minute. "I hope she will."

"Well, it's your birthday. I think she might take note about that. I'll try not to forget," I promised him. Turning to the driver, I said, "So if we are heading to the river, you can take the road to your left. It's a little way from here."

An hour, in reality. Which was why it was mostly secluded.

It was almost sunset when we got there. But since the weather was warm, even at this hour, we still went for a swim. Art's entourage, though, didn't dip in. I was able to make Jack put his feet in the water for a bit, before he got back to business after hearing my request.

"After feeling okay?" I asked Art, as we both stopped from swimming and were sitting on the side of the river, looking at the sunset.

"I'm not even sad," he told me.

"That's not true. I can feel you, sort of. Wicked, huh? But I do know how to be set aside," I said, softly, realizing it was too late to hold back.

"You do?" Art turned to the sunset, his back on me, and was looking at the blaze of red in the sky.

"Yeah. A couple of times." I was looking at him, my eyes tracing his back. Then I noticed something on his back, on the right side. He had a tattoo?

I felt, like, I had discovered another penicillin. Were they even allowed to have tattoos, the princes? I'd never heard of this before. And even if my TV and radio exposure before were few, I would have known. It was like something they would write in our history books. Was it recent?

Curious, I looked at it closely. To our bodyguards, I might appear as a pervert. The tattoo could be easily hidden by the shorts he was wearing, so I had to look closer. It was small, located on the right portion of his lower back. It seemed like a name.

"What are you doing, George?" I heard him ask me, which made me jump and fall in the water. I could die from mortification, if it wasn't my last will to live. I didn't notice that he was texting and saw my reflection on his phone. I stayed in the water as long as I could take it, debating how I should react.

"I just wanted to see the, um..." I cleared my throat after I resurfaced from the water. Art was looking right at me. "The design of your tattoo. Just curious."

"Oh, my tattoo?"

"I saw a part of it a moment ago." And I wasn't a pervert, okay?

"It was the name of my little brother," Art said after a moment, looking at the sunset and then at me. "Did you hear about that news?"

With a solemn voice, I asked, "The one who died?"

"Yes, him," Art said, sounding distant. "Will and I have this tattoo, so that we'll always remember him. Will have one on the left side and mine's on the right. We did it in secret, and not even our mother knew. She's against us having tattoos. Don't tell anyone, okay? The ones you are calling my entourage have been doing a great job for years."

"That's nice." I felt warmth spreading in my chest, as I sat beside him again, dipping my feet in the water. "I won't. I promise."

"Okay, so was that everything you were curious about a moment ago?" Art asked with a teasing voice.

"Hey, stop those thoughts. I was just looking at the tattoo," I said defensively, punching his arm.

"Okay. Okay. I understand." Art lightly rubbed his arm. "Are you sure?"

"Of course!"

"All right." He started humming a song..

"I'll make some fire," I said out of nowhere, feeling discomfort creeping in my skin.

"Look who's the first one who got cold," Art teased me once more.

I was already holding a small pebble that I considered throwing at him, but I felt his entourage looking at me with sharp eyes. Just a little more, and I really believed I would be thrown out of this search for attempted murder instead of falsification of documents.

"Just a pebble. I was going to throw it to the water," I told them, instantly dropping the stone to the river. "Make a wish, everyone."

"Easy, guys. She'll never harm me. That's for sure," Art told them, when he realized what was going on. He found it entertaining, thus the loud laugh again.

"I'm making fire now." I was the one who held my hands up this time. "Not harming the prince."

For some reason, I smiled as I was putting some branches in the flame. I already changed my tank top and shorts—my seemingly favorite get-up in summer and the one I kept in my bag so that I could change my clothes before going home—I was wearing, and hanged them near the fire. I had nothing else to wear except for another dress, plain and white, that Lenora's assistant, Famy, always packed in my things.

Summer look, of course.

Sitting cross-legged, I looked at my cell phone. I should tell Mom where I was. It was already seven in the evening. Jack was cooking dinner, in fact. This guy really came in handy.

"Mom," I said, when she answered her phone.

"Lenora called. She said she didn't see you or Art in the live broadcast of the big news that everyone's getting excited about," she said.

"Are you in the bathroom?" I moved somewhere private. Jack looked at me, and I pointed out that I was safe. That he didn't have to worry. And that I was excited to taste what he would cook.

"Yeah, there's nowhere else to go. Your dad is eating dinner," she told me. "Are you in the restaurant as well?"

"No. Actually, Art and I went camping. I'll be home tomorrow morning," I muttered, hoping she wouldn't be mad.

"Just you two? Are you on a secret getaway with the prince?" Mom no. 2 demanded.

"No! We're just camping, and we have bodyguards with us, Mom. We're not really alone," I said, keeping my voice low.

"Oh." I heard her sigh in relief. "Okay then. Is this part of your... I don't know, schedule?"

"It's not. I'm just doing this for his birthday tomorrow. You already heard about the news, so you know what's it like in the royal residence right now. His birthday seemed to be set aside," I told her, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

"Poor kid. If your dad isn't here, we could celebrate his birthday," Mom no. 2 answered.

"Yeah. So see you tomorrow? And are there no signs of Dad or Mom knowing anything?" I asked her in a whisper.

"Nothing of the sort yet," she reassured me. I heard a knock on the door. She quickly added, "Don't do anything stupid. Have fun with Art. I'll handle your dad."

"Is that George? Where is she at this time?" It was my dad's voice. I wanted to drop the call, but I knew it would make him angrier. I felt my heartbeat getting quicker as I waited for what was about to happen. After a minute, I finally heard my dad on the phone, "George?"

"Yeah, Dad?" I tried to sound casual.

"Where are you? Your mom told me that you were camping with your boyfriend?" he said, a little angry. "Is that true?"

I was about to ask who was my boyfriend, when I remembered that Art and I were somewhat like that. "With his friends!" I thought of the entourage. Then of Jack. "And my friends, too!"

True, right?

Us and all the excuses we made.

"You two are not alone? Is it the big guy before I left... your boyfriend? What's his name again? Ron. Randy? Nick? Karl? Robin?" Dad started enumerating names, wild guesses. I couldn't even recognize one, except for the very last.

"No, he's not someone you know," I hurriedly replied. Or maybe he did know him, well, as the prince. "I'll let you meet him soon."

"Is he good to you?"

"A lot!" I found myself saying.

"But you're not supposed to be there without telling us first before leaving this morning. I barely see you at home, George. What are you up to? This doesn't sound any good to me. You come home now or I'll make sure you get grounded," Dad told me.

"Dad the reception's getting bad. I... I can't hear... you... properly." Before I realized what I was doing, I ended the call and removed the battery from my cell phone to make sure my dad wouldn't call back.

That would make him really angry.

I went back near the fire, where Jack was finishing up our dinner. Breathing in and out, I calmed myself. I still couldn't believe that I did that. But it had happened. There was no way I could turn back time and change things.

"Was that your mom?" Art took a seat beside me, moving his hands closer to the fire.

"I... no... yes... actually—"

"Hey you guys, come here. Eat something," Art called out the bodyguards around us.

They repositioned themselves closer, and Jack started serving three of them the food, after he gave Art and me our shares. The other two remained on guard while some ate. I held the bowl of chocolate porridge firmly, warming my hands. The winds started to blow, but rather than chilling the place, it only cooled down the summer heat.

"Hey, George, look. It's a full moon," Art said all of a sudden, pointing to the sky.

"Don't turn into a wolf, okay? I'm not into them," I reminded him, grinning.

"Funny if I would. That would surely surprise you. What were you saying a moment ago?" Art asked me.

"Nothing," I said, sitting up straight. "It was my mom I was talking with. She said it was okay for me to go camping tonight. For your birthday, that's all."

"Good thing she agreed," Art said, smiling widely in contentment. "What about your dad?"

"What about my dad?" I asked him back, almost instantly. My hands were trembling. So guilty out here. Lowering down my voice, I added, "What about him?"

"Nothing much? You told me that he came back. What did he say?" His eyes widened a bit, but he found something to laugh about after. "Why are you so nervous?"

"No, I'm not. Was I?" I asked, downplaying it. "My dad... didn't care much."

"Really?"

"No. Actually, he kind of said that he would ground me tomorrow," I started telling him slowly.

"Grounded?" Art repeated. "What should we do?"

"My mom already said yes. It will be okay. I'll think of a way," I told him.

"Doesn't he know? You with me? I mean, with this going on around the kingdom?"

"Yeah, maybe. Okay, what I mean is, you're still a boy. I'm with a boy. That's how he sees it." I thought about it, if whether I should tell him or not. Prince or not, whether he knew who he was or not, my dad would still be angry at me when I'd get home tomorrow. Maybe Art and I should just make some royal elopement. That would be easier.

And exciting.

I couldn't even move to the royal residence, because my dad was still around. The Queen was already expecting me. I had already exhausted all the excuses. That they should give me some time. That I hadn't been apart from my mom for that long. I had requested for two weeks. I was nearing the limit. And now my dad suddenly wanted to ground me?

"I'll take you home tomorrow and talk to him," Art said out of nowhere.

"No!" I found myself abruptly standing up. "I mean, maybe someday. It might end pretty badly if you would be the one he'd see tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" he asked me, doubting my jittery actions.

"Yeah, it will be fine," I said, trying to reassure him with a smile.

"We can go home now if you want," Art suggested.

"It's okay. I'll get scolded anyway. I'm happy to be here with you. My mom will take care of him. You'll see. Everything will be okay tomorrow." I nudged him with my elbow.

"Positive?"

"Sure thing."

"But you are aware, though, that I'll still meet your dad one day," Art said, catching my eyes.

"Someday," I answered absent-mindedly.

But probably not tonight.