After I calm down, Torin guides me to the kitchen where he has prepared another feast. There are candles and flowers from my neighbor's garden on the table.
One more robbery for Mr. Thomas to worry about.
"Happy birthday," Torin says.
I smile my thank you.
He pulls the chair out for me like my mother always said a gentleman should do, and like my dad used to do for my mom. He places a plate of steaming spaghetti and meatballs in front of me. I raise my eyebrows just a little.
"Sorry, I am not much of a thief. I took what I liked. I hid these for a surprise. Six big cans of spaghetti and meatballs. It will be here all week, I am afraid."
"It's ok, I love it."
"Good, because it is your day. I want to make sure it is special."
He pours me some wine, but only an inch.
I raise my eyebrows again and ask, "Are you sure? Remember what happened last night. I am still not the legal drinking age."
"Moderation is the key. And of course, it is the end of the world. Everyone who wants one should be entitled to a drink, no matter their age. After all, considering what we have been through, we deserve it." He raises his glass and toasts. "If it must be the end of the world, at least we are together."
"Why Tori, are you parrying with me?"
"Yes, my lady, I am."
"I keep telling you that I am no lady."
"Indeed. And that is what I find so fascinating about you."
"Well, I will try not to burp in your face tonight."
"Most considerate, my lady." He offers me a plate of wilted lettuce salad. "I should like to know more about you, Eliot. Tell me about your parents."
I tell him about my parents, Joseph and Jane, and their breakup. I tell him how they met in college and my mom was now with one of their old college professors, though she insists it is business only. I tell him about my father and how he went from reputable businessman to half crazy with fear of what he thought was going to be the end of us all. How he wanted me to be ready.
"So, that is why you know so much. Why you can pick a lock, fire a gun, remain calm in a crisis?"
"It is why I know some things, but I am not calm. I am a chicken. I'm not brave like my dad."
"I disagree. You are the bravest girl I know."
Either it is the wine or my complete dislike of compliments, but I blush. I completely change the subject. "What happened to your friends? Where are they now? Did you get separated? What happened to your twin, the real Jack Taylor? Your bodyguard?"
Torin pauses before he speaks. "Jack Taylor is not only my bodyguard, he is family. He is a cousin, a distant cousin. That is why we look so much alike."
I tell him about Carli. "I have a cousin too. Her name is Carli, and she just turned twenty three a month ago. She goes to High Point University. She's from New York City. Her parents were there on the day of the EMP. The news says New York is gone, all gone." I let that sink in. "I hope she's ok. She is naive and has zero survival skills, but Carli is so cool. Not like me. We are not anything alike. She is pretty and prissy and boy crazy."
"So, you are close?"
"Yes, when I get to see her. She is great. I hope she is ok. She is so delicate and feminine and gorgeous, so gorgeous."
"So, not at all like you?"
I cut my eyes at him. Annoyed again. "Are you and Jack close?"
"We were. We grew up together. We were in the navy together. We trained together. We were the best of friends. I loved him, like a brother." He puts his fork down and stops eating.
"I'm sorry. What happened to him? What happened to the other people protecting you? Steven said you had an entourage."
"They are all dead."
"I'm sorry. What happened?"
"Killed by the bad guys. I don't know who they were. They ambushed us in the hotel, shortly after the lights went out. Security put me in the bathroom. Jack wasn't there when it started, but he was there when it was all over. I heard shouting and many shots were fired. Jack told me to run. When I didn't hear anymore shooting, I went out the window as they were breaking down the door. I fell off the roof and landed in a river. It was the only thing that saved me. Since that night I have headed south, hoping to get to a port. Find a way out of the country. I have been hiding away from others because I didn't know who I could trust."
I touch his hand. "Torin, you have got people here in this town that you can trust."
"Thank you, sweet Eliot, but I will not be anyone's pawn. And I will not let anyone else be in danger on my behalf. I will be leaving shortly. On my own."
I don't know what to say. Leaving? Without me? I look at him, and he says, "But I am not leaving today because it is your birthday, and we are celebrating." He pours me another inch of wine.
"When? Are you leaving tomorrow?"
"Probably not tomorrow because we will be busy."
"Busy?"
"Yes, there's to be a rescue."
"Rescue?"
"Yes, I have found your Steven and his nana and several others. They are captured by our enemy. We are going to their rescue. Eat hearty my lovely lady for tomorrow we storm the castle."
I smile. Prince Torin is completely irresistible even when I know he is playing the part of some pretend prince. I'm still worried about Steven and Nana, but not so worried that I want to break the spell I am under. "So," I say. "Since it is my birthday, and I am now quite the lady." I hold my pinky up as I raise my glass to take a drink of courage. "Will I be getting that kiss? A real kiss this time? A kiss from the prince?"
"My lady, are you intoxicated again?"
I shake my head no.
"Then there is no moral dilemma here then?"
I shake my head no.
"No depravity? No act of moral turpitude?"
I shake my head no again.
" A gentleman must do what his lady requests, especially on her birthday."
I nod and smile what I think is my most beguiling come hither smile. Torin leans in to kiss me. He pauses to look at me before he places his hand on my chin and tilts my head up. As our lips touch, my mouth opens just a little, and I close my eyes because that is what you are supposed to do when you kiss your prince. He kisses me again and once more until I can't tell where each kiss begins, and then he abruptly pulls away.
No good? Am I not any good?
He answers my silent question with, "Young, you are very young. My mother warned me about robbing a cradle."
And right before I get mad at him again, he continues.
"A lesson learned from my father - if you really like her, always leave her wanting more."
Like me? He really likes me. I feel young. Really young. Young and stupid and innocent. I feel like an eighteen year old girl and not the woman I want to be tonight.
He says, "I hope that kiss pleased my lady because I am afraid that other than your second night of spaghetti, I have nothing to offer as a gift for your special day."
"No worries," I say coming out of my kiss stupor. He is so damn confident and cocky that I either want to kiss him or smack him. I point to my boxes from my dad that are the last five years of gifts.
I pick up the box nearest me and shake it. It is heavy. I open it and find exactly what any girl would want - Camo blankets, a matching canteen, hiking boots and a heavy duty rain poncho.
I hold the boots up to my feet. Too small. The prince looks confused.
"What year did these come?"
I look at the date on the mailing label and do the math. "Twelve. I was twelve that year."
I pull a gas mask out of the bottom of the box. Torin looks at me with his eyebrow raised. "Explain," he says.
I tell him about my father. How it all began as kind of a game and by the time me and mom left, his obsession escalated to something that made us nervous and anxious. "He became fixated. My mom thought it was because he was an unofficial leader of a group of survivalists who followed his every word. He had a internet following in the thousands until he went off the grid about a year ago."
"Off the grid? You haven't seen your father in a year?"
"Probably, almost two years. I am not even sure my mother knows exactly where he is, though we think he is in the Sylva area out west from here. His dad grew up there, and there is family land. He could hide up there pretty easily and not be found."
"How are you and Lindy going to find him? I thought you were headed there."
"My dad even planned for that. He gave me a secret way of notifying him the last time I saw him. He said not to tell anyone, even my mother."
"So, he didn't trust her either?"
I think about this. "No, I guess not."
"He must be really afraid."
"Afraid? My dad is not afraid. He is the bravest, most capable person I know in a crisis. He knows how to handle any weapon, and he is ready to shoot anytime there is a reason."
"I didn't say he wasn't brave. I said he is afraid. He is afraid of losing you. He wanted you to be ready, to be prepared." He points to the box I just opened. "Camping gear, water purifiers, knives, a first aid kit, and more boots. Where did he get all those prescription drugs, the antibiotics?"
"He had a lot of resources. He was a volunteer fireman at one time. Worked in a doctor's office. Taught me how to field dress a wound." I laugh at the memory." Once, he had me operate on a puppy we had that stepped on some broken glass. Pulled out the glass, sutured the wounds."
"Impressive. Getting you ready for all possibilities."
"Yes, he wanted me ready for sure." I open the third box. It is full of Military Ready to Eat Meals (MRE). "Praise the Lord, what do we have here?"
"Looks like breakfast and supper and even some biscuits for our afternoon tea," Torin is exaggerating but not by much.
This box and the next two are full of matches and dried milk and more medical supplies and MRE's of every known variety. There is beef stew, chili, tacos, tortellini, macaroni and cheese, hash browns and bacon, tacos, tuna, and sausage. So many choices. We decide to eat a small pack of biscuits/cookies each.
"This is great," I say, "These are lightweight and a lot easier to carry than canned food. We can take them when we leave. They'll be good for our trips. You know, when Steven and I leave," I can barely get the next part out, "and when you leave."
"Yes," says the prince, "easy to transport."
I don't want to talk about leaving anymore, so I change the subject. "Where did you see Steven and Nana?"
"By the library downtown. They did not look like they were in immediate danger. They were eating a meal, walking about in the courtyard. Adults, a few children. There were some young people guarding them, but I believe with enough help we can easily overpower the guards. They looked young and inexperienced. No real leadership. We can best them." He reaches into the bottom of the box for another cookie pack and comes out with a card. "Oh look, this box has a birthday card from your dad." He hands it to me.
I open it and instead of the usual birthday wishes there is only one message. Scrawled in my dad's handwriting is :
Trust no one.
"That is not a particularly celebratory statement."
"Well, you gotta know my dad. He is full of these sayings. Trust in yourself, avoid the government, shoot to kill, carry two weapons, one hidden."
"Good advice, sure but, hmm, trust no one? That is a pretty specific statement. Does he mean don't trust your own mother?"
"I am sure he wasn't talking about her. They fought some before we left, but it was mostly my mom fussing with him. I think he still loves her."
"Yes, but does he trust her?"
"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" I ask because I am feeling defensive now. "The reality is that if my mother were alive, she would be sitting right here. It is her only child's birthday. She wouldn't miss it." My voice trails off, "She never missed celebrating my birthday. Not one."
"So you don't believe what your neighbor said?"
"No."
"Me either, but I just cannot comprehend who is supplying your obese neighbor and who still has access to Doritos."
"And ice cream," I add.
"It is mystifying. I am perplexed."
"Indeed," I say because the prince's manner of speaking, whether pretend or genuine, is rubbing off on me.
"Let's partake of another of those biscuits."
"Cookies, they are called cookies," and then I ask because I am curious. "Why did you say never when I told you to quit talking to me in your English accent?"
"When I was in disguise?" he asks. "When I was pretending to be American?"
"Yes."
"Because I have been someone else all my life with other people. A prince to the people, an idol to my adoring fans, a proper gentleman for my mother, a soldier for my father. I want to be myself with you."
"So, I know you don't talk normally like a prince from a fairy tale book. Am I getting the real prince? Everyone, else gets the gentleman, and I get this?"
He is amused I can tell. "Yes, my lady, you get me and," he bows before me," you get the fairy tale prince. You are the lucky one. You get me. You get all of me, Prince Charming and Prince Torin. At your service, my lady."
I don't have a comeback because what do you say to that.