Chapter Four
"Wave!" came the order from his father.
Unenthusiastically, Chris raised his hand a screwed an imaginary light bulb in the air.
The people roared its approval.
"Do you think you're up to shaking some hands?" Wills asked. Tom and Di and even little Billy (with his nanny) were already working the crowd.
Chris looked up at him." Does it matter?" he pointed out.
Wills sighed. "It's been three years son." he said softly.
"Three years in hell," the eleven year old returned, as he looked out at the mass of faces.
Before the language fazed him. But Chris used it so often Wills knew that to scold him would be futile. "It's your youngest brother's birthday, you should act happy."
"How can I be happy? It's the anniversary of mum's death," Chris reminded. With heavy feet he marched forward.
Wills watched relieved.
Chris looked at the first expectant hand. The face was smiling hopeful and someone he knew nothing about. He was about to shake it when warning bells rang in his head. If he shook this hand it would be as if he accepted his mom's death and was willing to move on. And he wasn't ready. "I can't," he said to the puzzlement of those who could hear him. He bolted away from the crowds and ran back into the palace.
Di and Tom looked back. They looked at their father on word on what to do.
"It's all right," Wills covered up. "Carry on."
And they continued shaking hands.
Wills took Billy from Paula. "Please see that he's all right. If he won't come back outside make sure when the time comes that he's ready for lunch."
Paula obeyed.
Wills looked back at the Palace. He wanted to comfort Chris himself but it seemed to him the more he tried the more his son resented him. He turned to the crowd. there were still duties to attend to. He brought Billy back to the crowd and the toddler eagerly shook their awaiting hands.

"Craig pull up on it!" Di shrieked.
"I'm trying!" Craig returned as he tried to control the kite darting in the sky.
"It's going to crash!" Tom said.
"It won't. It won't!" Craig promised as he tugged on the string.
Wills watched as Di and Tom ran across the grass with several other children, determined to let the colorful piece of plastic stay in its place in the sky.
"How's Chris," Harry asked sitting down next to him on the bench.
"He's the spoiled brat I raised him up to be," Wills replied. He played with the piece of lint on his pant's knee.
"Well, Helen's a hard person not to miss. And you know he loved her more than he loved you."
"He reminds me everyday." Wills sighed. "I wish he'd be more mature. Face up to it."
"He's not you Wills," Harry said. "He hasn't learned to cope like you did."
"He'll learn," Wills said. "Like you and I did."
"Yeah, like you and I," Harry echoed. He reminded, "But he's still just a boy."
"One day he's going to have to stop acting like a boy and start acting like a prince."
Harry said nothing. William demanded perfection in himself and made sure no one else fell sort of the expectation. Harry knew what it was like to be try to meet William's demands of being perfect. And he was just his brother. He could only imagine how hard it was for Chris. Being William's son.
Harry looked at his own children and his wife Vina, who were throwing bread crumbs at the ducks. Overcome with love for his own family, he walked over to her and kissed her.
Wills saw the display of affection his mouth lifting up one side hinting amusement. Helen, that was us... He looked back to his own children. Tom and Di were still trying to keep the kite from falling. Chris was still sulking at the Palace he knew. And Billy was-
Wills stood up. Where was Billy?!
He ran to the guard assigned to him. "Where's Billy?"
"He's right-" the guard turned around. He was confused. "He was just-"
William looked at the large crowded park in panic. "Oh my, he's been kidnapped," he assumed the worst. "Clear the park. Tell my father. He should be notified of this. And -and!" before a blood vessel exploded in his brain he saw his son.

Jo was just walking by the park which was open to the public in the day's celebration, when she was tackled by a three-year-old.
The boy sat on her stomach pointed her face and said, "Lady!"
Jo laughed. She loved kids. She tried to rise up to her feet but the child wouldn't let her.
"Lady!" he said again. He bounced up and down. He giggled.
"Billy! There you are," the stern voice of a parent scolded. A man with a dignified stance came over. He tried to pry his son away from her but the child hugged on stubbornly. "I'm so sorry, about this, Miss," he looked at her apologetically.
Jo ruffled the kid's hair. "It's quite all right-" she smiled. She looked up at him. "Oh my!" she breathed. She was just talking to Prince William.
He was still a hunk. The wind blew his thick blonde hair. No sign of pre-mature baldness as of yet. He was trim. Those constant swimming outings and tennis matches probably had something to do with it. Since his wife died women found him all the more appealing having been factory tested and approved. And the fact that he was still faithful to her after all these years disqualified him from being included in the world's scumbag population.
"Billy, let go!" Wills ordered.
Billy shook his head emphatically from side-to-side. "No! No!! No! Lunch, Papa. Lunch."
Wills looked uncomfortable as he scratched his forehead. "Uh, he wants me to invite you to lunch."
"I'm not doing anything," Jo found herself saying.
"All right then. Buckingham Palace. 12:30? I'll leave your name at the gate." To Billy he said, "The nice lady's going to have lunch with us. Happy now?"
Billy nodded with a big smile.
Wills lifted him off Jo's legs and helped Jo to her feet. "I'm really sorry about this, Miss-"
"Jo Conroy," she told him. She tickled Billy on the nose. "And it was no problem really."
"I'll see you later, Jo Conroy," Wills called. He walked away carrying Billy.
The toddler started crying. "No. No!" He wiggled away from his father's embrace and ran to Jo. "Lady! Lady!" He squished his face on her leg.
Jo could feel baby drool seeping through her stalkings. She picked him up and bounced him on her arms. "You're really giving you're father a hard time today." She smiled at Wills.
Billy giggled.
"He's never acted like this before," Wills informed.
Jo took a tissue from her pocket and wiped the corners of Billy's mouth. "I'm flattered."
"I think you should come with us." Wills suggested.
"Considering this little guy won't let me out of his sight I see we have no choice." She scrunched her nose as Billy. "You want me to go home with you? Do you?"
"Yes!" Billy exclaimed.
And that settled it.

Chapter Five
Jo looked around the great Palace. The nanny had managed to separate Billy away from her only after promising countless of times that they were sure to eat lunch together. The last thing Wills had said to her was, "Make yourself at home." She hoped she wasn't mistaken by taking him at his word. She wandered around opening one of the rooms.
Jo went inside. She turned on the light switch. The room was exquisite. But then again, could she expect anything less from Buckingham? She looked at the canopy bed. She liked the yellow flower print on the sheets and the lace on the curtain. She fingered the rosewood poles. On one side of the bed was a pile of stuffed animals. She went over to the desk. They were little knickknacks on them. A mug to hold pencils in. Sheets of stationary, yellow with time. There was a fireplace an on the mantle were several statuettes. Jo's eyes focused on the painting hung on the wall. The woman was beautiful. Her eyes twinkled merrily and anyone who was looking at the painting could tell the painter would never had done the subject justice. The woman had a life that couldn't be traced down to a few colors on an artist's canvas. Jo gasped when she realized the portrait's significance. She glanced around the room again. It was Helen's room.
"You must've been really special," she whispered to the portrait. Jo thought of Wills. He wouldn't have just settled for any woman. "Very special," she added softly. She went over to the mantle and was about to touch one of the figurines.
"Don't touch that!" came a royal order.
Jo backed away and looked at a boy who bore a striking resemblance to the woman in the painting.
He glared at her. "It's my mum's." he growled.
"You're Chris."
It was a statement. Not a question and that puzzled the prince. With his father's past women it was a question: "You're Chris, aren't you?" or "Are you the Chris your father has been telling me about?" it was a ploy to lower his defenses, he knew. But he never fell for it. And they would always extend their hands to make some attempt to touch him. Another scheme he didn't fall for but this girl made no such gesture. That made her different. Not that he liked her. But she was different.
"She's very beautiful," Jo said.
Chris didn't need to look as he confirmed. "Yes she is."
A blur of energy pushed Chris aside as he ran into Jo's arms. "Lady!" Billy said. He had been changed into a formal suit and tie. He ran his fingers into her hair and messed it up.
A servant entered the room. "Lunch is ready."

"Do you want to hear me say my ABC's?" Billy asked her as Jo carried him down the hallway.
"I would love to," Jo told him.
"ABCDEFG..."
"He's trying to impress you," Di laughed.
"He is!" Jo exclaimed.
"...QRSTUV oval-you..."
"He can't say double-u," Tom explained.
"I know my ABC's. Now you sing with me," Billy finished.
Jo clapped her hands. "Very good."
"Want to hear it again?"
Wills smiled to himself as Billy went on another round of ABC's. Jo was making a hit with Tom and Di. Chris was sulking again. And Wills wondered why but decided not to waste his energy to find out.
When they entered the dining room and they each took their respective places.
Jo took the seat which seemed to be reserved for her.
When the servants left Chris told his father. "She can't sit there."
Wills glanced at Jo. "Why ever not?"
"It's mum's chair."
"Christopher!" Wills exclaimed.
"It is!" Chris insisted.
Di and Tom exchanged uncomfortable looks.
"It's okay," Jo smiled. "There are several other chairs." She took the chair next to Billy. She reached for a spoon to partake of the tomato soup which looked perfectly delicious. And she was starving.
"You can't use that spoon."
Jo looked at Chris.
"That's mum's silverware." Chris told her.
"Christopher," Wills warned.
Experimentally, Jo reached for a crystal goblet.
"That's mum's glass."
Jo let her hand drop.
Wills got out of his chair and pulled Chris by the ear. "That does it."
"You're hurting me, father." Chris informed as he was dragged into the other room.
"What were you doing in there!" Wills pointed to the door.
They were alone. Before it was the three of them. The disgraced father and the emotional son both with hot tempers having a showdown with each other. And the mother. The reasonable one who explained both sides coolly so they could understand each other. But she was gone. And it seemed like nothing could be understood anymore.
Tears were filling Chris's eyes but he held them back. "She's touching mum's things!"
"Chris your mother is dead!" once Wills said the words he regretted it.
Chris grew pale. "Don't you think I know that?" his voice was a whisper.
"No, I don't think you know that," Wills said quietly.
"I do. I'm reminded every Mother's Day. I'm reminded every Christmas. I'm reminded every time I hear a teacher at school advise someone else "ask your mother". I'm reminded every time I look at Billy knowing he's a live and she's dead!"
"What is it that you want me to do? I can't bring her back. As much as I want to." Wills reached for his son.
Chris stepped away.
"Am I suppose to pine away for her ghost till I'm dead too? I'm human, son. I need love too. Heaven knows there hasn't been a lot of that in this house since she left."
What was he talking about? Chris was confused. Papa had love. The love of a kingdom. The love of Di, Tom and Billy. And... Though he might not show it. He loved Papa too. Papa was talking about adult love. Chris realized. The kind that made mum's face light up when she saw him enter a room. The kind that made them kiss in public and not care whose watching. The thought of Papa looking at another woman the way he used to look at Mum... Chris looked at the door. He thought of the stranger in there. "I don't like her, Papa."
"I do." Wills replied. He paused. "Or I think I can. Can you at least give me a chance to like her?"
Chris shrugged.
And Wills decided it was better than nothing.

When they re-entered the dining room Tom, Di, Billy and Jo were sitting on the carpet, having what seemed like a picnic.
"We've decided that since I wasn't allowed to touch anything that we order out pizza," She tried to control Billy who was running in and out of the legs of the dining room chairs and squealing in glee. "Tom and Di showed me how."
Di beamed proudly at her acknowledgment. "Here, Papa," she said handing him a pepperoni slice. She handed one to Chris too.
Chris stared at the slice. Mum, always had take out pizza on Friday he was tempted to say, but the scene with his father in the other room caused him to hold back the words.
"Chris," Jo called his attention. "I hear you like tennis."
Chris shrugged non-commitally. "I play."
"You know, my best friend's daughter is about your age. She's nine. How about you and her play sometime?"
"It's a splendid idea. How about tomorrow at nine in the morning."
Jo laughed. "Whoa. That's so sudden. But I think Annie would be delighted."
"But-"
"You're going," Wills silenced his protest.
It was an order. If it had been a request or a suggestion Chris would've found a way out of it. But not a direct order. He remembered his mum's last word's. "You do as your father tells you to." His Papa hadn't learned the trick yet. Or if he had he wasn't abusing it. "Yes, Papa."

Chapter Six
"Wills Win-"
"Jo Con-"
They both smiled as they bumped into each other at the front desk.
"Hi. Where's Annie?"
"She's already at the court. She doesn't like standing around when she could practice her arm."
"Same with Chris."
"I think they'll get along together quite nicely."
They heard yelling from the courts.

"...Crazy Yank!" Chris yelled.
"Arrogant Brit!" Annie shot back.
Jo and Wills pulled them apart.
"What happened?" Jo asked.
"Ask the Mr. Ah'm the Prionce and Yoou're Naht!," Annie mocked his accent.
Wills looked down on his son. "Chris..."
"She didn't believe me when I told her I had my own tennis court." Chris yelled.
Wills ran his fingers through his hair. "This shouldn't have happened."
"Apology accepted," Jo said.
"Who said anything about an apology?" Wills asked. "I just said that-"
"Surely, you can't mean that it's our fault."
"No, I'm just saying it's not ours..."
Annie and Chris exchanged a look. Adults, they rolled their eyes.
"How immature," Chris observed.
"Totally," Annie agreed.
"C'mon. Let's go play tennis."
Annie nodded.

"...Annie wouldn't hurt a fly."
"Chris, wouldn't get angry unless provoked. And further more-"
Jo stopped him.
"What?" Wills asked.
They both looked at the court where a fuzzy green ball was being passed back and forth so many times it would make anyone dizzy to watch.
"You call that a serve!" Annie yelled.
"You call that a return?" Chris retorted.
Wills and Jo laughed.

"...All right. Make sure they're ready when the time comes to pick them up," Wills said into the phone before he hung up.
They sat under a table with a huge umbrella at the snack bar a few yards from the courts..
Jo looked at him self-consciously. She has butterflies in her stomach. "Uh, don't you have a meeting or something to do to? I mean, you're a prince. Surely, you have a busy schedule."
He smiled. " My schedule's free till tonight when my family and I have to make an appearance at the opera. I'm free to do what ever I want. And I want to be with you."
"Oh," Jo said. She looked at the folder she was carrying and began rifling through the papers just to have something to do.
"May I?" Wills asked as he extended his hand for the folder. He looked at the drawing's Jo handed him. "What are these."
"My sketches," Jo explained shyly. "I'm a designer. I'm thinking of relocating to England so I'm using this week to look for a lease space. If that pushes through then Annie's going to go to school here. She's been begging her mom forever. I'll be her guardian."
"Wow. These are good," Wills complimented when he handed the folder back. He leaned over and just enjoyed watching her.
"Actually your wife inspired me."
"Helen?"
Jo smiled. "Her wedding gown was fantastic. I saw it on TV and thought that that's what I wanted to do for a living. Design the perfect gown for women to wear on the most special day of their life."
Wills watched her face light up as she described her passion. He wished he had that again. The enthusiasm and idealism. He knew he had them once too before- before Helen died.
"Must be tough being a single parent."
Wills sighed. "It is."
Silence.
A waiter stopped by. "Can I get you anything, Your Highness? Miss? Tea or coffee perhaps?"
"Tea for me," Jo accepted. "With two lumps of sugar and a splash lemon."
Wills declined.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" Jo asked curiously.
His voice was hoarse. "That's how Helen liked her tea."
"I'm sorry-"
"No, I am I shouldn't have-"
They both smiled awkwardly.
Jo touched his hand. "I wish I could've met her." She expressed.
"I wish you could've too. You seem like the kind of person who's company she'd enjoy."
A moment of comforting silence.
Then Annie's shriek pierced through the air.

Chapter Seven
"Mum?" Chris asked as he woke up through all the fuzz.
Annie looked at him from where she stood at the end of his bed. "If you think I'm your mum that ball must've cracked your head harder than I thought."
Chris looked at her arm in a sling.
Annie glared at him. "Don't say anything."
Jo came into the room holding Billy. Di and Tom not far behind.
"What happened?" Di asked.
"Your brother served me a Windsor Special. I returned it. His back was turned and the ball hit him on the head. Hard."
"You actually returned a Windsor special?" Di asked.
Annie looked sheepish. "I, uh, sprained a muscle while reaching for it."
"But you returned it." Di wanted to know.
"Yeah," Annie affirmed. "I did."
"You go girl." To Chris, "I'm so sick of you bragging about that serve!"
Wills came into the room. He looked at Chris. "Good you're awake. Listen, I have a meeting. Your brothers and sister have to get ready for the opera. You still have to stay for a day. Purely routine. There's nothing wrong with your brain."
"Are you sure?" Tom smiled.
"I can't believe the fits time I get to go to the opera my arm'll be in a sling," Annie complained.
Chris was shocked? Papa had invited Jo and Annie to the opera? He remembered the times when he was young how his mum would drag him to the Music Hall in a suit. He found his voice. "Fine. I'll stay." Duty above everything else.
"We'll come by to visit tomorrow." Jo promised.
"Oh, is there something you want to tell Annie, Chris." Wills hinted.
Chris rolled his eyes. He knew what his father wanted him to say 'it was a pleasure meeting you'. Chris looked at Annie. "I want a rematch."

Daddy: Chapters 7-10