Annie got close. “Show him the picture. Talk to him for once. Explain how this is for you and how you deal with it.”
Isabella sighed and nodded but added, “And I need to go. They’re going to be all over the village –”
Annie grabbed Isabella’s hand. “No, you don’t need to go. You need to stay. You’re experienced with this. They aren’t.”
Isabella stared at her friend. “If I go, the photographers will lose interest.”
Annie snorted and shook the photo in front of Isabella’s face. “Hardly. Prentice is hot. Look at him. Incredibly photogenic. And Jason is a good-looking lad. You’ve all obviously been run through the mill and you still look amazing together. And it looks like you’re definitely together. They’re going to eat this up. They always do when it’s about you. Bella, they’re going to descend on them like flies on doo-doo.”
Isabella looked to the photo.
Prentice did look great, even though his face was tired and his mouth was tight, he’d never looked so handsome.
And Jason was a good-looking lad, with his father’s eyes and his mother’s hair. Pre-teens the world over were going to be in throes of ecstasy.
Isabella closed her eyes.
Then she muttered, “Damn it.”
“Talk to him,” Annie encouraged.
Isabella opened her eyes. She had no choice.
“I’ll talk to him.”
Annie squeezed her hand.
Isabella took the magazine, shoved it in her nightstand and then they went back to the party.
It was a smash hit, especially the kitty and the cake.
Everyone was nice to her, more than nice, even so far as being warm and friendly, like she was welcome.
Like she belonged.
It was a nice day and Isabella had to admit that Annie and Debs were right. A party after a tragedy that ended in a miracle rather than further despair was just the thing.
Isabella did her best to keep Sally from tiring herself out too much, the exuberant kitty from causing Sally further injury and she consistently cleared away party debris so clean up later wouldn’t be overwhelming.
The only weird thing that happened was when she was standing, talking to Debs and Fergus, Prentice brought her a plate piled high with food.
Without a word, he handed it to her and walked away.
Fergus, Debs and Isabella stared at the plate. Isabella with surprise, Debs and Fergus with knowing looks.
Not hungry, Isabella nibbled from the plate then put it aside.
Not long after, she was gathering discarded plates for the bin when fingers curled firmly around her upper arm.
She looked at the strong hand at her arm and then at Prentice who the hand belonged to when he pulled the rubbish out of her hands, dragged her to the bin, dumped it in then dragged her to the counter. He prepared another plate for her, setting it on the counter and piling the food on it while he kept her imprisoned next to him, his hand still on her arm.
When he was done, he turned to her, plate in hand, and demanded, “Eat.”
“But –” she began, so shocked she didn’t know what to say.
He interrupted her. “Eat.”
“I had some. It was lovely but I’m full. I couldn’t eat more,” she explained.