Page 8 of Forgettable in Every Way

Feeling lighter, and like I’d passed a major test by resisting looking at Simon, I walked with a skip in my step toward the café that had been my favorite place to eat growing up. The scent of freshly-baked bread and sweets wafted through the air, helping to calm my nerves. Something about bread just soothed my soul, as did the thought of moving on. Not that I had held out any delusions of the two of us getting together. I knew that was never happening. But my heart and soul had never let him go. It was as if Simon had infiltrated my very being. It was time to exorcise him once and for all. Hopefully I didn’t need to hire a priest for that.

We walked into the little café that was as quaint as it was cozy. Its walls were painted a soft blue, the windows large and inviting, and the tables rustic and homey. Laughter and conversation mingled with the clinking of dishes and the sound of orders being called out. I would like to say that it felt like coming home, but while everyone took note of Calista, every eye seemed to pass over me as if I were invisible. I get it. Calista was big news around here, especially since a legal battle was brewing between Tristan and his parents. I was in no way jealous or begrudged her for the attention she received. She didn’t particularly care for it, other than that she loved to irk people for the sport of it. But just once, I wished someone would notice me.

As we stood in line behind several people waiting to order at the counter and looking over the chalkboard menu hanging above the cashier, the cutest British voice yelled out, “That’s her! That’s Princess Jewel.”

I stilled, telling myself that many people from the UK visited Aspen Lake in the summer, so I shouldn’t panic every time I heard the alluring accent. Besides, my superpower was being invisible, so even if Simon or any of his relations were near, I would probably go unnoticed. But I wondered who Princess Jewel was. I hadn’t noticed anyone dressed up in a costume, or any real princesses, for that matter.

“We have to talk to her!” The voice got closer and more excited.

“Hold up, mate.”

I knew that voice. I grabbed Calista, praying whoever Princess Jewel was, she wasn’t next to us.

Calista peeked around as the surrounding patrons parted. She knew full well who the voice belonged to. It was the voice that had triggered hot and heavy romantic interludes between her and Tristan. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

I didn’t have time to dwell on the weirdness of it. It was obvious whoever this princess was, she was near me. What were the odds? My heart felt like I was running on a psychotic treadmill with no stop mode, trapped in my worst nightmare. I desperately wished I could wake up and find myself somewhere else, like back home in LA, or better yet, Belize.

I kept waiting for this Princess Jewel to say something, but the rude woman wouldn’t respond to the boy I was sure was Simon’s son. The thought turned my stomach into knots. It embarrassed me to admit how many times I had fantasized about having Simon’s baby. Make that babies. The world needed more of his DNA.

“She looks just like her picture!” Simon’s son shouted.

Calista nudged me right before the cutest boy I had ever seen tugged on my white shorts. “Good day, Princess Jewel,” he said so properly, as if greeting the King of England.

I stared down at Simon’s son. Sandy-brown curls played above his ears, and his big, light-green eyes, reminiscent of his dad’s, blinked up at me with wonder. He was a little version of his father at his age. I knew from pictures Simon had shown me many years ago. Simon’s hair had darkened as he’d aged. Perhaps his son’s would too.

It took me a second to realize that this adorable little boy believed I was Princess Jewel. “Um, hello,” I could hardly say. My mouth had gone dry. “I’m so sorry, but I’m not the princess.” I was so confused why he would think such a thing.

“Yes you are. You look just like her.”

I turned to look at Calista to get her take, but I accidentally met Simon’s gaze and his crooked smile instead. How many times had I seen that smile just before he would break out into some show tune or tell an off-color joke to see if it made me blush? It didn’t help that he had the whole David Beckham vibe going for him, with the tight, stubbled jawline, and he wore his dress shorts and a body-hugging polo shirt like he was on his way to a modeling gig. My first instinct was to turn away, but his eyes held me hostage.

“Hello, Jules,” he emphasized my name.

I wasn’t impressed he’d remembered this time.

Once people realized there was much ado about nothing, the crowd filled back in. People were eager to order their food.

I heard a few people whispering, asking who I was. One woman thought for sure I looked familiar and thought my parents were Linda and Willis Bradford. I wasn’t sure who those people were, but my parents were Sandra and Paul Carmichael. One man mused that perhaps I really was a princess. I wanted to shout my name and tell everyone I’d lived in this town my entire life. But as always, I kept it to myself and swallowed down the hurt.

“My name is Jack,” Simon’s son informed me.

I tore my gaze away from Simon and knelt in front of Jack. “It’s nice to meet you.” My voice wobbled a bit. I wasn’t prepared to meet my dream that became someone else’s reality.

“I didn’t know you lived here. I thought you lived in New York where you met the Daft Prince. And you talk to animals, and you saved the big green lady in the water,” he talked so excitedly, I barely caught everything he had to say.

I smiled, not sure what to make of this at all. “Wow.”

“I want to talk to animals too.”

Calista caught my eye, looking as bewildered as I felt.

Simon took Jack’s hand. “We should let the princess order her food.”

I stood and, against my better judgment, came face-to-face with Simon. “Uh, who is Princess Jewel?”

Simon cleared his throat. “It’s from a book I read to Jack last night.”

“You’re silly,” Jack laughed. “You are Princess Jewel.”

---