Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Well, I am distant. I’m thirtieth in line to the throne.”
“That’s not that distant.” Nate chuckled.
“So, you’ve, like, talked to the Queen of England?” Jan asked, hopping onto a stool at the island.
“Stop it.” Lily turned to me, true concern in her eyes. “I didn’t tell them in a gossipy way. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have told them at all.”
“Forgive my family for being rude.” Liv shot her youngest daughter a scolding look. “Subject change.”
“It’s fine. Really. I understand why people are curious about it. And yes.” I looked at January. “I have spent lots of time with Queen Anne. We get on well.”
“Surreal. That’s very surreal,” she said. I supposed to her it was.
“Subject change,” Lily repeated her mother’s words.
“I know a way to get to know your young man.” Nate pointed a knife at me, and I almost took a step back.
“He’s not my young man.” Lily gritted her teeth. “Sebastian is my friend.”
“Sorry. You’ve never brought a male friend home before. I’m struggling to readjust my perspective.” Nate lowered the knife but smirked, even though the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Usually, I hate the blokes my daughters bring home. Dad prerogative.”
“Absolutely.” I felt agreeing was the best thing to do since he was holding a weapon.
“Dad—”
“Sebastian gets it.”
I gave Lily another reassuring look.
“Anyway, as I was saying … let’s play Would You Rather.”
“Oh yes. Genius idea, Dad.” January held a fist out to her father, and he reached over to bump it with his own.
“Um, no.” Lily shook her head.
“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun,” Liv agreed.
Bemused, I queried, “What’s Would You Rather?”
“A game Nate and I started playing when we first dated and then it became a family game. Here, we’ll start.” She nudged her husband. “Would you rather read The Iliad for the rest of your life or not read at all?”
“The Iliad.”
“Really?” Jan asked. “The Iliad? It’s like five million pages long and barely understandable.”
“It’s better than not having anything to read. And if you concentrate, there are some interesting stories in that poem.”
“What poem?”
“The Iliad.”
“That’s a poem?”
Liv pointed a spatula at her youngest. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“What? What did I say? I’m not a history student. I’m a fashion student.” She gestured to her rainbow confection.
Until Lily told me her sister was doing a BA in fashion, I didn’t even know that was a course Edinburgh offered.
“Did you make that?” I asked.
“I make most of my clothes.”
“That’s really clever.”
She considered me, her chin lifted haughtily as she looked down her nose. Then, “Okay, a point in your favor. Well done.”
I tried not to laugh, but it was a struggle. Lily’s little sister was funny without even trying.
Soon we were gathered around the dining table and hopefully, I’d won some points helping Lily take the food, drinks, and cutlery over to it.
“You understand the premise of the game?” Liv asked.
“Sure.”
“Okay, this is for everyone,” January said as she held her burger to her mouth. “Would you rather eat nothing but kale for the rest of your life or eat what you want but have chronic diarrhea forever?”
“Really?” Liv glowered at her. “We’re eating and you start with that?”
“It was the food that inspired the question.”
Smothering my grin, I looked at Lily across the table and saw she was struggling not to laugh around her bite of burger.
“Chronic diarrhea,” Nate answered seriously.
“Agreed.” I nodded.
“Me too.” Jan took an aggressive bite of her burger.
Lily and her mother exchanged a look and then nodded in unison. “Me too.”
“Would you rather live in Stranger Things or The Last of Us?” Nate asked.
I frowned because I hadn’t seen The Last of Us.
“Stranger Things. Eleven and I would be BFFs,” January said with authority and seriousness.
“The Last of Us,” Liv said.
Her husband glanced at her. “Pedro Pascal?”
“Maybe.”
“Then I better choose The Last of Us, so you don’t run off with the bastard.”
“He’s probably going to die in season two,” January opined. “If that helps.”
“Lily-Billy?” Nate asked.
I almost choked on my burger. “Lily-Billy?”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t even think about calling me that.”
“But it’s so very tempting.”
“I will end you. I will drag you into The Last of Us with me and end you.”
Shoulders shaking with laughter, I replied, “I’ve never seen it.”
Nate gestured at us. “Lil, you need to fix that. Watch it with him. It’s a great show.”
I nodded because I’d use any excuse to spend time with my friend. “We should definitely do that.”
Lily smiled. “We’ll pencil that in to our already bursting schedule. Anyhoo, would you rather spend one month out of your entire life living your version of a perfect, blissful existence, knowing the rest of your life would be mediocre? Or live a mediocre life never knowing bliss?”
“Trust the psychotherapist to go deep.” Jan groaned in exaggeration.
“Well?”
“You know I’m picking a month of bliss.”