Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (animal farm read .TXT) 📗

“Well, I—” I trail off, unsure of how to start, but the time crunch doesn’t allow me to overthink it. “I’m going to be on the news this afternoon. I wanted you to know, beforehand, so you wouldn't be surprised.” I pause, but they stay quiet. “I’m actually here now with my new husband, Patrick. He’s—he’s really amazing, and I think you guys are going to love him.” I pause again, looking over at Patrick, who gives me an encouraging nod.

“But here’s the thing, and I don’t know what Teddy may have already told you, but, well, he’s Patrick Royce. The prime minister’s son.” My dad blows out a breath, but otherwise stays silent. I close my eyes. “I needed you to hear that from me. Before you see me in a news interview. He’s not who I expected to get matched with, but he's a really great person. And I hope you guys will give him a chance, and love him too, in time. That’s all—” I stop, the lump in my throat preventing further rambling.

“Baby, if he makes you happy, he could be from Mars for all we care. You sound happy, sugar. Are you? Does he make you happy?”

“Yeah, Daddy, he does.” My voice is small, and Patrick squeezes my hand again in support.

“Then that’s all that matters. It’s going to be fine, baby.” His voice is so reassuring, I feel a tear leak from the corner of my eyes.

“I wish I could have told you in person, but I'm afraid this is the best I can do. I would give anything to hug you both right now. Hopefully soon.” I try not to let them hear the sadness rolling through me, and soak in their voices like a desert soaks up rain.

“Oh, sweetie, we miss you more than anything! But you’ll be home soon, and things can start getting back to normal. Just like Teddy and Faith!” my mom says with happiness.

“How are Teddy and Faith? Are they doing okay?” I ask, glad for the temporary change of focus.

“Oh, they’re great! Faith is absolutely lovely. She’s been a little sick, but don’t you worry—I’m taking good care of her. We couldn’t have asked for a sweeter daughter-in-law.” My mom’s gushing tone tells me all I need to know. No way is Faith leaving for New Texas when her three years is up. She’s one of us now. That happy thought bolsters me.

“Can I speak with them for a moment?” Patrick asks quietly from my side.

“Sure! Hey, Mom and Dad? Patrick wants to say hello.” I push the button to put the phone on speaker.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor?” he says, his voice a hint lower than usual.

“Hello, son,” Dad says.

“I’m sorry that we aren’t able to meet in person, but I wanted to let you both know that I love your daughter dearly, and I intend to do everything in my power to make her happy. I know our situation is a bit different than many, but, I love her—with all of my heart. I thought you should know that.”

It’s silent for a beat, and then I hear my mom sniffle. “Thank you for speaking with us, Patrick. It’s good to hear that you two have made a real match.”

The office door behind us opens a crack. “Time’s up,” Jared says, but he doesn’t open the door the rest of the way.

The rock in the pit of my stomach returns. “We have to go. I love you both so, so much. Watch the news later! Tell everyone we said hello!”

“Bye, honey!” They both say their farewells, and I end the call with a pang of regret.

Jared walks back in. “I assume everything is in order now?”

I nod, and swipe furiously at a tear that’s rolling down my cheek.

“Yes, thank you,” Patrick says, courteous when I’m unable to speak.

“Very good. I believe your captive audience awaits.” he gestures to the door with a grimace. We stand, and Patrick puts his arm around my waist, and gives me a minute to scrub the last trace of tears from my cheeks before pulling open the door.

Here goes nothing.

Eye Candy

Hair and makeup for TV are quite a process. The two men who did it, Giles and Chris, were like a tornado of constant motion and swirling instruments. They circled me non-stop for nearly an hour, chastising me the first half for not giving them enough time to “perfect their canvas,” which apparently, is me. Brooke showed up too, the royal Grecian dress in tow. By the time they were done with me, I felt like an ancient sacrifice, ready to be tossed into the volcano to appease the fertility gods.

“Honey, you have got to stop frowning like that. We have done our part to make you into an ethereal goddess of the modern ages, but if you keep scowling you’re going to age before your time and look ugly on a postage stamp. Is that what you want?” Giles pauses for a split second. “No, I didn’t think so. Now, don’t waste my glamour on frown lines. Smile, and lift your chin. You’re about to become a princess among mere mortals; you need to act the part.” He puts two fingers under my chin, and lifts it until I notice the handheld mirror he’s offering me.

I take it, afraid to see if I look like a clown, as long as they’ve been painting and plucking me. I drink in my reflection with a quiet gasp. Not a clown. They’ve instead polished me so that I now shine like a jewel. I’m still me, of course—brunette, freckles, blue eyes. The summer glow of ranch work has started to fade from my skin, but they’ve got it radiating a cool vitality.

“Wow,” is all I manage.

“Wow, she says. That’s it? We’ve turned you into a princess masterpiece worthy of an epic ballad, and all we get is wow?” Chris snorts. “We’ve got our work cut out with this