Chapter 51

5:30 p.m. Friday

"I'm sure you didn't plan to spend your evening entertaining an old woman," Anne said pleasantly.

"I'm having fun learning about England," Joy said. "Your explanations about the differences in our culture make a lot more sense to me than our World Civilizations textbook."

"It's the difference between theory and reality," Evan said with a shrug. "In theory, the world should be a loving, caring place. The social fabric should be woven so there is no war or famine or disease. That's the ideologue's cry: Why can't we all just get along?"

"Because some people are jerks," Andy answered.

"Short answer: Yes," Evan agreed. "The long-form response it that people have differing ideals, beliefs and goals. At some point, those ideals, beliefs and goals are opposite to others' ideals, beliefs and goals. That creates conflict. I have very firm beliefs on some matters. For instance, I disagree wholeheartedly with society's decision to medicate the entire planet. That is the big thing in the U.K. now. Everyone is on anti-anxiety medication or anti-depression medication or anti-hyperactivity medication. Those are all normal biological responses to stimuli. It was natural for Mum and me to be depressed when my father died. Anxiety is nature's way of telling you that something needs to be worried about. The fact that you worry about how to pay the mortgage is how the mortgage gets paid. Mum will tell you that children have energy that they need to expend. It is counterproductive to expect small children to behave as miniature adults.

"Instead of letting our natural body chemistry deal with emotions, we dampen them. Now, certainly, there are extremes that require attention. If you are so depressed about something relatively minor, say denting the fender on your car, that you're thinking of harming yourself, by all means take all the pills you need. If you are so nervous about something that you can't get out of bed in the morning, seek treatment. If your child is sleeping only an hour a day and can't complete a sentence without drifting off to a new topic, have someone take a look. But we're moving closer and closer to a world filled with zombies that can't make it through the day without their fix. Some people need heroin; others need Prozac. We're no different than the people that populated Andy's old neighborhood."

Evan stopped abruptly. He had not filled his mother in on the details of Andy's life. Now he saw her gaze sharpen as she peered at him.

"Andy resided in a neighborhood filled with drug addicts?" Anne asked.

"Drug addicts, drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes," Andy answered with a shrug, missing Evan's grimace. "If it's bad and you can think of it, they were probably there."

"And when did you depart this environment?" Anne asked.

"Two days ago," Andy answered as it dawned on him that this was new information for his grandmother. "It wasn't that bad. I wasn't mixed up in any of that ... stuff."

"I would hope not!" Anne sputtered.

"It's the way life was," Andy told her plainly. "We struggled day to day to put food on the table and clothes on our backs for a long time. Mom finally admitted that we needed help so we got public assistance housing. By their nature, the apartments the government rents are filled with poor people and poor people are the ones that tend to make money however they can. We already had plans to leave in July anyway. Once I turn 18, Mom no longer had a qualifying child at home and there was no way she was willing to pay the full amount to live in a slum."

"Mother, every city has the neighborhoods where Andy lived," Evan cut in. His mother looked as though she was about to have a stroke. Ruth, Regan and Joy sat in uncomfortable silence. "London has them; Paris has them. They have them here, too. I would wager that the poor in London have it worse off than they do here. It's a matter of relativity. The wages Camille earned here would put her comfortably in the middle class in the U.K. The divide is so sharp in America that it landed her firmly on the lower side of the ledger here. You can plainly see that Andy is well cared for. He owns an automobile and several sets of clothing. I've been to Camille's former residence. Certainly, it isn't opulent but it is no worse that the apartment I lived in during college – and I would wager that there is less drug use in her neighborhood now than there was in mine then."

"Speaking of Mom, I'm going to see what's keeping her," Andy said, anxious to put distance between his formidable grandmother and himself. He figured Regan, Joy and Ruth could probably get her onto more comfortable topics by the time he returned.

Camille answered the phone on the second ring.

"You're on your own, Kid," she said with a laugh.

"Where are you?" Andy asked.

"I'm still at work," Camille told him. "I had things I needed to catch up on."

"That's crap," Andy said. "You're hiding."

"That, too," Camille admitted. "I figured I'd wait until Anne goes to sleep before I come back. It will let you get to know her without the awkwardness my presence will add."

"Quit being a coward," Andy said. "You knew someday you'd have to face her. It can be now and you can get it out of the way or it can be tomorrow and spill over to when everyone is here to watch it. It's like a Band-Aid, just tear it off and move on."

"I seem to remember you crying every time I would rip a bandage off of you," Camille pointed out.

"But I wasn't crying the next day," Andy countered. "She's here and she's pleasant. I ... I sort of like her."

"She's a very nice woman," Camille admitted. "She treated me so kindly when I was there. It's part of the reason I don't want to face her right now. I know she's disappointed in me."

"And you figure a few hours alone with me will lessen that disappointment?" Andy wondered.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Camille responded. "But I figured you would prefer to enjoy a pleasant supper instead of one filled with awkward silences."

"It'll be fine," Andy assured her. "I knew it would be ... strange ... so I invited some of my friends over. But I'm finding she is not shy about airing grievances in front of an audience."

"What has she said about me?" Camille wondered.

"About you?" Andy asked. "She's said not a single unkind word about you. But she's been giving Evan a rough time. Half the time I'm not sure if she's picking on him or if she's serious. I really would prefer that we got this out of the way. I'd like to spend some time with my friends this evening and I'm not going to be able to make an escape until you show up."

"Fine," Camille said with a heavy sigh. "I'll be there in half an hour. I'll take my medicine like a good girl and you can run off and leave me to the wolves."

"Ninjas," Andy corrected. "We've decided that she's a Ninja."

The conversation had turned lighter by the time Andy reentered the room. He gave Regan a grateful look and she winked at him.

"Do you live in a castle?" Joy wondered. She was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, paying rapt attention to every word spoken. Regan wasn't certain she'd ever seen her friend so interested in anything.

"It's a manor house," Evan explained with a touch of embarrassment. "Honestly, it's an atrocity."

"It sounds exciting!" Joy exclaimed.

"Until you have to foot the bill for the upkeep," Evan told her. "In truth, I'd prefer we move to a simple flat and let the Historical Commission deal with keeping it to 'traditional standards.' But Mum won't hear of it."

"Why Evan, do I have this right?" Ruth asked in a voice that Regan recognized as playful but she doubted anyone else did. "You're a 39 year old man living with your mother? Do you sit in the basement and play video games all day?"

"I... ," Evan stammered.

Anne burst out in laughter and soon Joy and Regan joined in, but their laughter seemed forced. Ruth maintained an innocent expression.

"Actually, Evan allows his dear old Mum to live with him," Anne said when she regained her composure. "I'm much too elderly and frail to tend to myself, after all."

"A likely story," Ruth said. "Sorry, Evan, it was just too good for me to pass up. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's good for him to held up by his short hairs once in a while," Anne declared.

"Don't forget that it only by my forbearance that you live such a courtly existence," Evan said, smiling at his mother.

"The rights of inheritance are a bit different for peerage," Anne explained. "I was unable to inherit the property or any of the trappings of the earldom when my Andrew died. The rights of inheritance belong solely to the firstborn male of the family. Thus, when his father died, Evan inherited the title, the lodgings, the property and any other item deemed to be a possession of the Earl of Smithfield. I was able to keep the items purchased specifically for me but that was all. It will be the same if Evan ever finds a wife. By right of succession, Andy will be first in line to inherit everything that Evan now holds."

Evan saw Andy about to speak but cut in before his son could utter a syllable.

"The one thing Andy cannot inherit is my ability to seek a seat in the House of Lords," Evan said mostly to fill the time he needed to get his brain working. "That law went into effect in 1999. Should Andy elect to forego his inheritance, the title and property will go to my cousin – the son of my father's younger brother. However, it is highly likely that he will pass as well. He lives in New York and I do not believe he will return to England to live in a 'drafty old relic to the past.' That is how he referred to it a few years ago when I broached the possibility of succeeding me. I have no reason to think he's relented."

"What happens if no one wants it?" Andy asked.

"The title and property will be vacated and revert to the crown," Evan explained. "It has happened in the past with other titles – not because no one wanted it but because there was no male heir to inherit. It is possible that it might be revived but I don't believe it likely. The last earldom handed out was in 1697."

"It truly would be a shame for the legacy of the Duffields to disappear," Anne said with genuine sadness.

"How did you meet Evan's father?" Regan asked, hoping to move the conversation away from topics that made Andy uncomfortable.

Anne smiled warmly at the memory.

"In truth, one of the reasons I've never truly been accepted by the other peers is because I'm as common as they come," Anne recounted. "My father worked in a bookstore until World War II. During the war, he rose to command a squadron of tanks. He was knighted for gallantry for his actions during a battle in Tobruk – that's in Africa – in 1940 and at the Battle of the Bulge in 1944. He was barely 25 years old when it was conferred. He married the daughter of a minor noble. I have an older brother who is five years my senior. As the daughter of a knight, I was ... I suppose the word is eligible ... to be wed into the peerage. If we're honest, it was an archaic system until very recently. There is so much inbreeding that I'm surprised that the line has survived at all.

"A knighthood is not hereditary. My brother didn't inherit the title when my father passed away. He is simply Mr. Gordon Allen, a retired solicitor in Leeds. My marriage is the last link to the peerage. I suppose I was considered pretty for the time. It was the 1960s and the world was changing rapidly. I was courted by a couple of viscounts – they are slightly lower in the peerage than an earl. My Andrew used his father's lesser title – Baron Stratford. That title passed to Evan and, of course, now belongs to Andy."

Andy gulped noticeably but no one commented about it.

"My Andrew, in his youth, was dashing and daring," Anne continued. "I was very much taken by him and we wed in 1969. He assumed the title of earl just after Evan's birth. Sadly, he was unsuited for the role. He became obsessed with maintaining the 'family image.' He put a great deal of pressure on Evan and, as you probably know, Evan rebelled."

"How?" Regan asked.

"He left England for California where his stated goal was to become a surfer and a sculptor," Anne said, biting her lower lip.

"That's cool," Ruth said, looking at Evan in a new light.

"But, as with his father, he was ill-suited to either of those pursuits," Anne added with a laugh. "He is one of the least coordinated people I've ever met – and perhaps the least artistic."

"Yes," Evan said drily, "it appears my time spent here was a bust."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Anne said, glancing at Andy. "I wouldn't say that at all."

8 p.m. Friday

"I thought we'd never get out of there," Andy grumbled as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.

"I have never been more embarrassed," Chris said, shaking his head sadly. He had arrived shortly after dinner. When he entered, he shook hands with Evan and gave Anne a small kiss on the cheek as though they were old school friends. It wasn't until the conversation picked up that he realized he had just met two members of Britain's royal class. He had sat quietly until Andy rescued him by suggesting it was time for the group to meet Paul and Elizabeth, who had stayed at the Pena household to get Lupe settled in.

"It was better than seeing Regan curtsey," Andy joked. "Now if her skirt were shorter..."

"They are perfectly lovely people!" Regan said.

"They're my dad and grandmother!" Andy corrected. "They just want you to act like yourselves around them."

"Will you expect people to start calling you Baron Stratford?" Joy asked. It took Andy a moment to understand that she was serious.

"No!" he said. "I'm the same guy you picked on Saturday night! You knew about Evan by then."

"But the countess is so refined," Joy said. "Even beneath her jokes, you can see she is a lady."

"She runs a freakin' daycare center and her father worked in a bookstore," Andy protested. "Did you listen to all of her stories or just the ones you wanted to?"

"We listened, Andy," Regan said, holding his hand tightly. "To you, they're long-lost family. To us, it's a bit more. In a way, your grandmother was right. We do get much of our news from the gossip sites. We see Princess Eugenia or Duchess Kate and it all seems surreal. To know that your family has ties to them is a lot to wrap our minds around."

Andy shook his head as they entered the parking garage. He had heard of Kate Middleton, of course, but he had only a vague idea of who Princess Eugenia might be.

"We'll have to split up," Regan said. "Do you want to drive my car? Ruth and Joy can ride with Chris, if that's OK."

"Why would I drive your car?" Andy wondered. "I mean, I don't mind riding with you but you can drive."

"I... ," Regan began. "It always seemed like driving was a guy thing. I assumed you'd want to drive us to the dance tomorrow night."

"I can," Andy said with a shrug. "I'm not hung up on that whole 'guy' thing. I'll even stop for directions if I'm lost."

"Pussy," Chris said, elbowing Andy. Part of his silence at the suite was because of his perceived gaffe but another part stemmed from how straitlaced Joy and Ruth were behaving. Their behavior was still far more sedate that he was used to. "I'm not stopping for directions. If we're lost, deal with it."

"We're only going a mile," Andy said with a laugh. "And it's a straight shot. I think you can handle it."