CHAPTER 71

11:45 a.m., Friday, May 8

Third-Floor Apartment

Consulate General of Genovia

Deputy Prime Minister Dupris just called to congratulate me on becoming the new reigning monarch. I congratulated her back on becoming the new prime minister.

Of course, none of this is going to be formally announced until next week, which is good, since by then hopefully we’ll have Olivia’s guardianship sorted out. Dad is on the phone with the lawyers now. Apparently, some sort of headway is being made.

Before hanging up with the deputy prime minister, I asked what Cousin Ivan had said about donating three of his company’s cruise ships to house the Qalifi refugees.

She said, “He was perfectly agreeable to the idea!” to which I replied, “Great.”

She said she thought we were going to make an amazing pair. I said I agreed.

I hope she couldn’t tell that the whole time I was talking, I had my head resting on the bathroom floor.

CHAPTER 72

1:52 p.m., Friday, May 8

HELV to Cranbrook, New Jersey

The lawyers have worked out an agreement with Bill Jenkins (and, allegedly, Olivia’s aunt and uncle).

The details are confidential—I could find out if I asked, but I haven’t asked. I’m assuming it’s either a sizable deposit into Rick O’Toole’s bank account, or a promise not to have him arrested for child-support fraud.

In any case, I’m on my way back to Cranbrook—this time with Dad—to pick up Olivia.

Hopefully. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that nothing’s going to go wrong. Things have been going a little too well today for me to get my hopes up—aside from the part where I found out Michael and I may have to live with my grandmother, and the morning sickness, or whatever it is.

I’m feeling a little better. Ginger ale helps.

Grandmère’s always insisting that the secret to aging gracefully is remaining well hydrated, but I sometimes wonder if this isn’t actually the secret to life itself.

Dad is obviously following this advice. Either that, or it’s simple, old-fashioned loooove. All his color is back to normal, and I can see a faint hint of shadow on his upper lip (he didn’t shave there this morning. He’s already looking better). He’s chattering away a mile a minute about Mom, and how great she is, and how great he feels now that she’s letting him back into her life, and what a great mother she’s going to be to Olivia (although we both felt it would be better if Mom—and Grandmère—stayed home for this trip. Their personalities are a bit strong).

And now that I’ve gotten over the initial shock of it—kind of like the initial shock of having twins—I think I’m going to be awesome at ruling. Madame Dupris, Olivia, and the twins and I might actually make something of that tiny little principality on the sea. If Lilly passes the bar, I might see what I can do about getting her hired as attorney general. And Tina, if she ever finishes medical school, to be surgeon general.

(Although we really ought to hire locals. But there aren’t that many Genovians who are interested in pursuing careers in the legal or medical professions, due to the distractions provided by the crystal beaches and many casinos.)

Truthfully, I’m not even that worried about Grandmère. She has other palaces that she inherited from the Grimaldi side of the family, just a stone’s throw from the rue de la Princesse Clarisse in Genovia. Once the twins come, I have a feeling she’s going to want to move into one of them, especially if she’s going to be entertaining romantic guests, like Monsieur de la Rive.

So I’m letting Dad prattle away, telling me how right I was all along about throwing away the map, and how if he’d only “gone for it” sooner, he could have saved himself a lot of heartache.

I’m even restraining myself from pointing out that if he’d “gone for it sooner” with Mom, he’d never have met Elizabeth Harrison, and then Olivia wouldn’t have been born. I’m fairly certain he’ll work this one out for himself, eventually.

Oooh, Tina’s texting:

<Tina “TruRomantic”

HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie”>

Hi, how’s it going? Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to say I loved the piece you did with Brian F.! Your hair looked really good! Also, you’re still going with cream for the bridesmaids, right? Because I saw this dress online that’s really pretty, maybe S. could look at it? Or would suggestions make him upset? I know how designers can be. At least on TV and of course in Danielle Steel novels.

Thanks! Go ahead and send me the dress. I’ll forward to S. He’s going to have a lot of design challenges on this project anyway for other reasons.

Really? Why? Don’t tell me your grandmother is making you change everything you wanted to do again . . . Mia, it’s not fair, it’s YOUR wedding! You should be able to have a nacho bar at the reception if you want to! It’s a bit unorthodox but it’s not like it’s never been done.

It’s not the nacho bar. 1 m p3gnant.

Tina, I think there’s something wrong with your phone, the last 3 texts you sent me didn’t have any writing in them.

No, I accidentally hit send before I could write anything, I’m so excited! Oh, Mia!!!!!

But are you sure? Because you know you thought you had dengue fever last month.

No, a blood test and ultrasound confirmed it. But now that you mention it, I think I know now why I thought I had dengue last month.

WHAT DID MICHAEL SAY?????