Royal Holiday (The Wedding Date, #4)(67)

But when she dropped the catalogs on her coffee table, a postcard with a castle on the front skidded across the table. She snatched it up.

V—Congratulations! I know this must have been a very hard decision on your part, and I’m thrilled for you. I’ve never met a person so full of joy and warmth as you are. It makes me happy to know you’ll keep stoking the fires of that joy. I’m so glad I could play even a tiny part in this decision. I hope you’re drinking champagne right now. I wish I was drinking it with you.

M

P.S. Watch the post for something else to help you celebrate.



A glow spread across her whole body. He’d never met a person so full of joy and warmth? He was thrilled for her? She grinned. Yes, thank you, he should be thrilled for her! Everyone should be thrilled for her! She was tired of others trying to make her feel guilty! For once in her life, she’d decided to prioritize herself and her happiness; not her family’s or her ex-husband’s or her daughter’s or her job’s, but her own.

She looked for just the right postcard from her stack and sat down to write him back.

M—Thank you! I’m so glad you’re thrilled for me. It really helps. People keep acting like I made this decision on a whim, but I think this was one of those decisions it took my whole life to realize. Shamefully, I don’t even have any champagne in my house, but I should remedy that ASAP.

V



Her eyes landed on his postscript. What in the world could that mean? “Watch the post” could mean anything: A pile of postcards? A letter? A present? She smiled. She could hardly wait to find out.

She didn’t have to wait long. Two days later, she walked up to her front porch just as a deliveryman left a note on the door.

“Is that for me?” she asked him.

“It is if you’re Vivian Forest,” he said. “Sign here.”

She signed, then grabbed the package and opened her front door. She told herself not to get too excited—it could just be something she’d ordered online and forgotten about. But when she glanced at the postmark and saw it was from London, she let all pretense fall away and used her keys to slit open the package in a hurry.

The note was the first thing to fall out of the box.

Vivian—Congratulations again on your decision; I’m so happy for you, and glad I could play a small role in it. I’m sorry I couldn’t break into the V&A and get you the real one; maybe next time. On a serious note: you are a treasure, and I hope this helps you celebrate yourself. I love the joy you find in the world.

Malcolm



What could he have sent her? She took a bubble-wrapped object out of the box, and pulled off the layers of bubble wrap. Then she gasped.

It was the tiara. Obviously not the real one, but a delightful little replica of that tiny sapphire and diamond tiara.

She put it on top of her head, looked in the mirror, and laughed out loud. She loved it so much. She felt very silly, though—wasn’t she a little too old to be dressing up like a princess? She grinned at herself in the mirror again and shook that off. Who cared how old she was?

She pulled out her phone and immediately took a selfie. She scrolled through her phone to Malcolm’s name, then hesitated. They hadn’t texted each other since she’d gotten back—all of their contact since she’d waved good-bye on January 1 had been strictly via postcard. Should she open that back up now?

She looked back at the selfie. She looked really good in that tiara. It would be a shame not to share it.

And with one click, there it went, whizzing across the continents to him.

A half second after she sent it, she realized it was the middle of the night in London. Oh well, hopefully her fabulous picture either wouldn’t wake him up or would give him sweet dreams if it did!

Just then, there was a knock at her door.

“Hey, Mom, it’s me!”

Oh, that’s right, Maddie was bringing her a dress for her great-nephew’s christening. She paused on the way to the door. Should she take the tiara off before Maddie came in? Hell no—no one would share her enjoyment about this as much as her daughter would. She ran to the door and opened it.

Maddie took one look at her and a grin spread across her face.

“Where did the tiara come from?”

She turned in a circle to model the tiara.

“You’re going to get all . . . you about this, but Malcolm sent it to me. We saw the original at a museum when I was in London. I sent him a note when I decided not to apply for the job; he sent this to me so I could celebrate.”

Maddie’s face was triumphant.

“Mmmmmmm.” She pursed her lips and her eyes danced. “Malllllcolm sent it to you, hmmmmmm?”

Vivian laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t Mmmmmmm me, I’m the queen of Mmmmmmm. There’s nothing to Mmmmmmm about here.”

Maddie shook her finger at Vivian.

“I don’t think that’s true! Vivian and Malcolm sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S . . .”

They were both laughing too hard for Maddie to keep singing. Finally, Vivian caught her breath.

“Stop it. We’re just friends, okay?”

Maddie dropped the garment bag she was carrying onto the couch and sat down.

“No, seriously, Mom. This all seems awfully romantic to me. You send each other notes? He sent you a tiara?” Maddie looked at the flowers in the vase on her counter. “Did he get you those flowers, too?”