her thoughts.
Coco ran upstairs, scooped up Emma, changed her diaper and returned downstairs just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Sarah said. “Might as well be Grand Central Station in here today with all these interruptions.”
Carrying Emma, Coco wandered toward the front room.
Sarah opened the door and looked surprised. “Eunice and Timmy, what brings you here?” she asked, drying her hands on the dish towel she carried.
“May we come in?” the woman outside asked.
“Of course,” Sarah said and stepped aside. “What can I do for you, Eunice?”
An older woman with bright red lipstick and unrealistically black hair and a middle-aged man stood inside the door. The woman carried a fruit basket and the man cleared his throat and pressed down his hair.
“We hear you have a princess living in your house and we wanted to welcome her to the neighborhood,” Eunice said.
Coco took a silent step backward so she wouldn’t be seen.
Sarah paused a half beat then sighed and reached for the basket. “That’s nice of you. I’ll be sure and tell Coco you dropped by.”
“Oh, we were hoping to meet the princess,” Eunice said.
“Well, she’s busy with the baby right now,” Sarah said.
Emma looked down at the dog and made a loud gurgling sound.
“Oh, is that them?”
Emma let out another loud gurgle.
“Coco,” Sarah called as if she realized it was no use trying to hide Coco any longer. “You have guests.”
Coco entered the room and smiled. “Hello,” she said.
“Coco, this is Eunice Chittum and her son, Timmy.”
“Tim,” the man corrected and cleared his throat.
“Tim,” Sarah repeated. “Well, the Chittums have brought you a fruit basket. I’ll take it into the kitchen for you.”
“Thank you very much,” Coco said. “What a nice gift. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, our pleasure,” Eunice gushed and dipped in a curtsey. “Your royalness.”
Frustration rippled through Coco. “Oh, no, please don’t do that. I’m just Coco Jordan. Really.”
“There’s no need to be so humble with us. We’re very honored to meet you. I especially wanted you to meet Timmy.”
“Tim,” the man corrected.
“He would be a perfect escort and you should know that he is eligible.”
“Mother,” Timmy said, rubbing at his hair self-consciously.
Coco covered her dismay by shifting Emma to her left hip and extending her hand. “It’s nice to meet both of you and so friendly of you to stop by. I wish I could invite you to stay longer, but I need to bathe the baby.”
“Oh, of course. We wouldn’t dream of imposing, but I do want to leave you with my phone number and Timmy’s,” the woman said with a bob of her head and handed Coco a floral card with several phone numbers on it. “That last one is Timmy’s cell and he always answers. Please call us for anything you might need. Anything at all.”
Coco nodded and murmured her thanks again as she closed the door behind them. As soon as they left, she walked to the kitchen where Sarah was cooking. “Just tell me this won’t last long,” she said over Emma’s babbling. Emma was turning into quite the chatty baby. Coco just wished she understood the baby’s language.
Sarah shot her a look of sympathy. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s just getting started, but maybe if we ask Benjamin to keep it to no visitors for a while, it’ll die down faster.”
“I hate to be unfriendly,” Coco said.
“It’s about survival,” Sarah said. “We have to survive the incoming.”
The phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” Coco said as Emma continued to babble.
“I’ll let you,” Sarah said and turned back to stirring her pot.
Coco scooted around the corner to grab the phone in the den and almost collided with Benjamin. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” she said.
Emma stared at Benjamin’s hat and immediately stopped babbling. “She really doesn’t like that hat,” Sarah muttered.
Rolling his eyes, Benjamin removed it. “I’ll get the phone,” he said, picking up the receiver.
Coco went after him. “You might not want to do—”
“Garner Ranch,” he said and listened. He wrinkled his brow and his face became more and more perturbed. “Wait a minute. Wait, wait a minute. You say you’re a DJ at a radio station, and you want to interview Princess Coco Jordan?”
Benjamin glanced at her. She cringed and shook her head.
“She doesn’t want to be interviewed,” he said and opened his mouth as if he were going to say goodbye. He listened a moment longer and his eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You want to have a reality competition for men who want to marry a princess? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in my life—” He broke off and shook his head. “You say you’ve already got fifty men signed up? I don’t care if you’ve got a million. It’s not gonna happen. Ever. Got it? Goodbye.”
He hung up the phone and turned to her. “We’re gonna need a different strategy.”
* * *
That night after she put Emma to bed, Coco returned to her bedroom, pulled on a sweatshirt and crept downstairs and out the back door. Her mind whirling a mile a minute, she circled the house. She started out at a fast jog. What was her blood brother like? Were any of those royals worth knowing? Would any of them consider her worth knowing?
Coco had always dreamed of having brothers and sisters, but her parents had told her she was their everything. In retrospect, she’d felt more than a little pressure from that. She’d always wanted to be the best student, the best artist, the best singer, the best fisher, the best athlete, but in truth, she’d been mostly average.
Oh, she’d been a good speller and her grades had spiked into Dean’s List territory every now and then, but along the way, she’d learned that she couldn’t be Miss Perfect. And she’d felt a little guilty about it, especially when she’d overheard her parents arguing about money and learned that her parents had spent their life savings to adopt her.
After a time, she’d seen that her requests for a sibling had pained her mother and father, so she’d stopped voicing them. But she’d never stopped wanting a brother or sister or both. And now, she technically had
