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The fruity truth: My favorite English author is Jane Austen.
So, to borrow a passage from Sense and Sensibility: “You want nothing but patience–or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope.”
(pg. 144)
‘Your Highness’
January, 2020
Ellen knows she’s not the greatest mother the world has ever seen. She knows that (especially in the last few years) her children have often taken a backseat to her own ambition. She also knows that Alex has taken that better, more in stride, than June has. That he understands, and some days even actively encourages, her singular focus and determination to be the best damn first female President of the United States of America that she can be, to the point that some days all she has time for is a single good thing and a single bad thing in her children’s lives.
Still, she tries. God knows she tries, even if she doesn’t often succeed. It’s a precarious balance that she’s struck between work and home life, between running a country and running a household.
She is, therefore, present enough to recognize that something has happened between the Prince of Wales and her son.
When the English delegation arrived for the State Dinner the previous evening, the tension between the two of them was palpable. Ellen may not be in the running for any Mom of the Year awards, but she knows a forced, fake smile on her kid’s face when she sees one, clocks the nearly white-knuckled grip of their handshake, the hushed, gritted out ‘We need to talk,’ just soft enough that cameras won’t pick it up.
She’d seen Alex practically glaring daggers at the royal over dinner, even as she attempted to keep her focus on the new Prime Minister, trying her best to keep the peace in more ways than one. Once the musical entertainment had started up, however, she lost track of both of them.
(Considering the dessert table made it out in one piece, she’s relatively certain they couldn’t have gotten up to too much trouble.)
The next time she’d seen them - during the after-dinner cocktails - they still both looked remarkably tense. Perhaps even moreso, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.
But this morning, just over 12 hours later… it’s like they’re two entirely different people. She actually stops dead in her tracks when she first spots them, shocking the Secret Service agents flanking her.
“Is there a problem, ma’am?” one of her long-time guards asks.
She holds a hand up to silence him as she takes in the scene in front of her.
They’re standing together, leaning against one of the pillars of the North Portico, and they look - dare she even think it, lest she jinx it - kind of close. When she’d all but ordered Alex to befriend the boy after the wedding cake disaster, she never quite imagined seeing them like this. But there they stand. The youngest member of the immediate Royal Family appears to be getting some sort of update from one of his handlers, trying to listen to whatever he’s being told about his daily itinerary, while Alex stands shoulder to shoulder with him.
Someone reaches up to smooth the prince’s hair back from his face in preparation to snap some pictures of the two of them, and Alex mimes the motion on himself, nudging him with what appear to be good-natured eye rolls and teasing. When the sudden flash catches them off guard, the prince winces, tucking his face to the side, and Alex quickly brings a hand up in reflex to shield both their faces before turning to make sure he’s alright.
Somehow, overnight, they’ve gotten used to each other, to the point that there’s a certain level of casualness and comfort to their movements.
The Secret Service agent repeats his question, with a bit more urgency to his voice this time around. At long last, Ellen shakes her head, surprised to find how much she genuinely means it. “No, I think things are going to be just fine now.”
The question spurs her back into moving, though, and she quickly makes her way down the handful of steps until she joins the two of them. She’s reluctant to break into whatever bubble of peace they’ve achieved, but those camera people are technically there for her - to watch her see the English delegation off - so she knows she must eventually.
“I hope my son isn’t giving you too much grief, Your Highness,” she teases as she comes around the corner.
Alex interjects with a loud “Hey!” forced out over a laugh, and she reaches up to pat his cheek fondly.
“I love you, but I’m just trying to make sure there are no more international incidents.”
“There won’t be,” Alex insists, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “We’re being good, I promise.”
Ellen cocks her head to the side and pretends to give them both a long once-over. “See, I’d trust that coming from him,” she says, inclining her head towards the royal at her son’s side, “But I’ve known you for your entire life, sugar, and I’ll believe it when I see it.”
The Prince of Wales tries, unsuccessfully, to hide his laugh behind a cough, and it succeeds only in making Ellen grin further. Alex, for his part, brings a hand to his chest as if mortally wounded.
“We’re fine, Madam President. And thank you for taking the time to come see us off.”
She notices the quick change in subject, but as much as part of her wants to dig into exactly why neither of these boys seems to want to spend much time talking about their apparent new-found friendship, she’s only come down for a quick goodbye and photo op between a number of other scheduled meetings.
“Of course,” she tells him, her perfect press smile slotting into place as she reaches out to shake his hand, bringing her other hand to settle atop where they’re joined. “I hope your whirlwind trip here has treated you well. It was a pleasure having you guys, as always.”
She’s met with an equally polished smile, the carefree grin he’d just been hiding away behind a cough and a fist melting away in an instant as he seems to fall back into his polite princely persona. “The pleasure was all mine, I assure you.”
This time, it’s Alex’s turn to bite back a laugh, and Ellen finds herself confused once more, feeling like she’s missing out on some secret joke.
"Anyway," she begins - slowly, drawing out the word as she furrows her brow at her son, trying to make all the pieces make sense - before turning back to the conversation at hand, "Our countries have always been each other's strongest allies, and I'm eager to develop that relationship even further, should we get the chance to do so in a second term. So I hope that means we'll be seeing a lot more of you around here in the future, Your Highness."
And even though he ducks his head to start replying to some sort of message on his phone, Ellen swears she hears Alex mumble something along the lines of "Me fucking too," as she turns to leave.
‘Prince Henry’
October, 2020
When Ellen, with the help of Zahra, informs her communications team of what she intends to do, they try to tell her that they can do it for her - that she need not personally get involved - but she shoots them down immediately. She can’t explain it fully, but this is something she just knows that she needs to do on her own; she needs to know that the offer comes across as genuine, as fully supportive in every way, and not seen as a technicality, like something she was told to do.
So the team instead sets to work helping Alex and June iron out the finalities of his speech - the when and how and where of it all - while she focuses on making sure that the other person who really needs and deserves to be present for it is able to do so.
Seated at the Resolute desk, she dials the secure line for Buckingham Palace, requesting to be connected to Prince Henry. She can tell the operator on the other end is shocked to hear the voice of the President of the United States, rather than some secretary, as they quickly transfer her call over to Kensington and, with a trembling voice, ask her to hold.
It takes a few minutes for the line to connect again - likely because someone had to hunt the prince down - and his confusion is clearly evident when he answers.
“Erm, hello? To… to what do I owe the pleasure, Madam President?” he asks, sounding confused as to why she’s calling, as if he’s skeptical as to why he’s even the one she wants to talk to.
She doesn’t bother with any sort of formal hello or introduction, choosing instead to put the boy out of his misery and get straight to the point. “I imagine Alex has told you about the speech he and June are working on, in which he’ll be confirming your relationship to the public?”
“He has,” he admits, slowly, still clearly trying to work out what she’s getting at. “We talked before he left about him asking June to write something for him, but at the time he wasn’t sure if it would be for something as big as a speech or more like a post on social media.”
“Yeah, Alex doesn’t do anything small or by halves. It was always going to be a speech once he got permission,” she says with a laugh.
“I’m beginning to understand that, yes.” Ellen can practically hear the smile in his voice, and it not only pulls a smile out of her as well, but also further confirms that she’s doing the right thing here.
She leans back a bit in her desk chair, letting herself settle in for this conversation. It feels long overdue, she has to admit to herself. This is her son’s boyfriend, his chosen partner, the person he’s about to declare to the world that he loves - entirely, irrevocably. And she and he have, as of yet, never had a one-on-one conversation together.
“I thought you might. I hope you’re prepared for all kinds of drama with that one,” she jokes.
There’s a slight pause before he speaks up again, like he’s trying to choose his words in a very deliberate and precise manner. “To be fair, I imagine being with me is much the same. Both of our families are so high profile, you know? It was never going to be uncomplicated. We’ve known that for a while now.”
Squeezing the cord of the phone tightly in her clenched hand, Ellen sighs. “You’re both just kids. I’m sorry either of you even has to think like that. Sorry that this happened to you.”
Another beat of silence. A breathless chuckle. And then, “You know, nobody’s told us that yet.”
Ellen lets the chair fling her into an upright position again. “Wait, what?” It’s not her most eloquent phrasing ever, but she hopes he’ll forgive her her shocked outburst. “Surely not. None of us - we haven’t…?”
“No,” he says, voice barely audible over the line, even in the deathly quiet of the Oval Office. All she can think is that he sounds so tired, so world-weary for his young age. She can’t even begin to imagine the amount of trauma that he and her son will have to unpack over this in the years to come, and the realization feels like someone’s taken a dagger to her very heart, because she knows she’s very likely guilty of making it worse. “Everyone instantly went into crisis control mode, on both sides. I can’t - that is, we can’t blame you, any of you. It’s understandable, of course. But it hurt as well, the fact that it was being viewed as this… scandal, something to fix, rather than an attack on the two of us.”
She almost has to set the phone down then, wishing she had some magical ability to freeze time, give her a second to process the sudden flood of guilt and pain. But there’s not. (Not that Ellen thinks she’d deserve it even if there was, at this point.) Instead, she brings her forehead to rest in her hand, elbow leaning on the desk before her.
“I’m afraid I’ve been quite a bad mom,” she admits softly. “I didn’t realize that so little attention had been given to either of your feelings. I tried - when Zahra first brought Alex to me early that morning, I tried. I asked if he was okay, told him I’d back his play, but I knew he wasn’t. That it was just a brave face. I should’ve tried harder to be there for him. I’m so sorry, to both of you. You both deserved so much more than being treated like pawns in a political game of chess.”
“We were cut off from each other,” he notes after she finishes her impromptu speech, sounding a bit more frustrated than he has up until that point. “One of the worst days of either of our lives, and we couldn’t even check on how the other was doing. That was probably the worst part.”
Ellen takes a slow, deep breath in, does her best to swallow down the defense that wants to bubble up in her throat. “And I can’t go back and undo that. I’m sorry that that’s how it ultimately went down. For whatever it’s worth, we did try to contact your side multiple times, but our calls were rejected,” she notes, as delicately as she can. “Not to entirely shift the blame, though. I know we messed up too, and unfortunately, it took my son having a full-blown panic attack for us to realize just how badly we had.”
“It can’t be undone, no,” he agrees. Then, carefully, he adds, “But you can support him now. Letting him make a speech - take some semblance of control of the narrative back for himself - is a good first step.”
There’s so much in that sentence that he isn’t saying, so much that he’s holding back. Ellen’s pretty sure she’s got an idea of what it is, but she finds herself unsure of how to ask in the least confrontational, least accusatory way.
What she eventually settles on, after what surely feels like an awkwardly long-lingering silence, is, “How are you holding up? How is… everything there?”
She doesn’t need this to be a video call to see the shift in his demeanor; she can hear him all but shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “Better than things were in the immediate aftermath, but still not great. Mum is doing what she can for me, but my brother and grandmother aren’t letting me do much of anything outside of scheduled events and appearances, on top of essentially sending me on an apology tour in the next month or so."
Despite the intensely personal nature the call has taken, Ellen swears that she truly has been trying to maintain some air of professionalism. That resolve cracks almost instantly at his words.
"To apologize for what? Being the victim of a cyber attack?”
“Disparaging my family’s name, apparently. According to the Queen.”
She fights the urge to roll her eyes and grumbles out, “They did that to themselves in treating you poorly. Clearly they haven't learned from the experience either." Belatedly, Ellen realizes that she really shouldn't be saying anything negative about his family, given that they're the strongest allies of the United States. But as a mother first, not a president, she's so frustrated for him. "So you're essentially being confined there?"
"Pretty much. I sort of brought it upon myself, I suppose. In their eyes, at least."
"... And you said you're only allowed to attend official events?"
"Yes, that’s correct," he replies, voice measured and cautious. Ellen guesses he knows what she might be about to ask, but it sounds like he’s trying desperately not to get his hopes up.
At long last, she relaxes back into her desk chair, a smile finally tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well then, Prince Henry, I'd like to formally and personally invite you to be present at my son's speech."
Unsurprisingly, he accepts almost instantaneously. Within the next couple of days, her team gets together with his to iron out the details, though it’s more of a technicality at that point. Ask forgiveness, not permission, she supposes.
When his chartered flight lands at Joint Base Andrews on the morning of October 2nd, she makes sure that Marine One is there and waiting for him, despite numerous protests that the craft is meant solely to carry her as the president.
It’s the least she can do.
‘Henry’
November, 2020
Ellen is ashamed to admit it, but it takes her a solid twenty-seven minutes after her reelection becomes official to realize her kid is missing in action, and it isn’t even her who realizes it in the end. Someone comes up to her team, asking to get a picture of all of them together now that the confetti has stopped falling, and while she manages to easily flag down June and Nora to join her, Leo, and Oscar, Alex is nowhere to be found.
Before she can even say anything to him, the Secret Service agent at her side taps his earpiece long enough to murmur out a quiet, “Who has eyes on Barracuda?”
She has to give her team credit: They do a very good job of keeping their current crisis on the down low, even as they all spring into action. Amy quickly ends her personal call with her wife and meets up with Cash just long enough for them to make a plan for how to section off the venue to check it over as quickly as possible, then split up to swiftly put their plan into action. A couple of the agents who normally watch over her and Leo also leave to join them, but only after ensuring that neither she nor her husband go anywhere or separate from the guards who remain assigned to them.
Less than five minutes later, Cash’s voice crackles out over the radio hooked on the belt of the guard to her left, a clear note of forced calm in his words. “We’ve checked the entire space. They’re not here.”
“‘They?’” she repeats, even though she knows what he surely must mean.
“Prince Henry is also nowhere to be found,” Cash confirms, and her heart drops into the pit of her stomach.
There’s no keeping this quiet now. She’s just about to issue the order to place the venue on lockdown when someone comes jogging up to their group. Security swoops in to block her off, but she pushes back through them once she finally places a name to the face.
“Liam? This really isn’t a good time,” she says, silently thinking to herself that that might be the understatement of the century. She’s technically less than an hour into her second term, and already she’s facing a second potential international disaster, this time in the form of a lost member of the Royal Family.
He braces his hands on his knees, taking a couple of deep breaths, before speaking up. Ellen’s just getting ready to try once again to dismiss him quietly when he utters the five words that she really needs to hear right about then.
“I know where they are.”
—
Twenty minutes later, Zahra and Shaan are walking her son and his boyfriend up to her, both of them looking appropriately chastised already - though that isn’t going to stop Ellen from giving them plenty of hell herself for the panic they both put everyone through.
“I hope you enjoyed that tiny bit of freedom, because it’s the last you’ll probably see for a while,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Cash and Amy are going to be stuck to you like glue from now on.”
“I just wanted to show Henry the old house, Mom.”
“Without telling anyone,” Ellen begins, ticking off a list on her fingers. “Or taking security. Or answering your damn phone-”
“It was on silent, because we’d just been giving speeches, where we couldn’t exactly have our phones going off,” Alex interjects, raising his voice to be heard over her. “And we did tell people. We told Liam and Spencer, since we borrowed their bikes.”
“Speaking of, you’re lucky I recognized Liam after all these years and that he noticed something was up when we were all looking for you.” Ellen drags a hand down her tired face in exasperation. Something about going from the incredible high of Texas going blue for her to thinking her child is missing has drained her completely. “You’re not exactly making a great case for yourself here, kid. Can you just… try to explain to me where your head was at? You’re smarter than this, I know you are.”
“We were riding the high of the Texas results and your reelection and H’s news about the, uhh…” He tosses a quick glance over his shoulder to his boyfriend, and she watches as the hints of a flush crawl up her son’s cheeks in the split second their eyes meet, before he can pull his gaze away and back to her. “It’s not important right now. I just… forgot,” he says, finishing a bit lamely and shrugging, like he can’t really explain.
“You… forgot,” Ellen repeats, slowly and monotonously, trying to make the word make sense. The glance between the two boys doesn’t pass unnoticed by her, and she looks between the two of them like she might miraculously pull some sort of answer or explanation out of the thin air. “After almost five years of being a public figure, you forgot? You couldn’t even tell your sister you were running off?”
Alex opens and closes his mouth in the start of an explanation multiple times, but nothing manages to come out. He just keeps glancing back and forth between his boyfriend and her, like she’ll somehow manage to just telepathically understand what’s going on between them.
(After she missed the fact that they were together for months, Ellen isn’t sure why Alex supposes she’ll pick up on something this specific. The two of them have always been close, scarily similar in many ways, but she’s not psychic.)
Ellen sighs, and even to her own ears, it sounds disappointed.
She doesn’t know whether he decides to take pity on her son or whether he feels that he owes her some sort of explanation after Alex’s half-uttered sentence about him, but before either she or Alex can say anything else, Prince Henry steps up from behind him. “I believe that, in this particular instance, the blame might fall partially on me, ma’am,” he admits, wrapping an arm around her son’s waist to pull him in close to his own side.
“As heartwarming as the show of camaraderie is,” she starts, and it’s true that it does pull a slight smile out of her to see how clearly loved Alex is, “I’m not going to blame you for my son not following basic security protocols, Your Highness.”
He ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a breathless chuckle. “I might have given him some news earlier in the middle of all the celebrating that ended up being quite the distraction, though.”
Alex leans back into his arms, back flush against his chest now, and tips his head up from its place on his shoulder to look up at him with such tenderness and love that she feels intrusive. The splotches of color dotting her son’s cheeks seem to have become contagious, both of them blushing more than she thinks she’s seen from either of them in ages (not that she has much to compare to for the prince, however).
All this unspoken communication - the gentle, affectionate touches that feel both so tender and so new somehow - take her back to the start of the year, when she’d first noticed something had changed. How she laughs to look back now and think that it had been friendship budding between them; how she wonders how she missed all the signs. But this… this feels like that. Like something big, potentially life-changing has happened.
She wants to guess. She wants to know.
But something stops her from asking, sensing that this needs to be something that Alex tells her on his own. So many things recently have been stolen from him - from both of these young men - before they had the chance to share them on their own terms.
Ellen won’t do that to either of them again.
She also knows her own son well enough to know when he’s fit to burst with information that he really wants to share, so she waits, giving him a patient smile and a single raised eyebrow. And sure enough, after about thirty seconds-
“Henry bought a house in New York,” he blurts out, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a burst of energy that manages to feel both nervous and ecstatic in equal measures. “And I got into NYU Law. So…”
It takes her brain a moment to parse out his words - for them to register as more than a blur of syllables - but her heart does something funny when they finally do. She’s incredibly excited for, proud of, both of them, but she can’t help but feel the first pangs of the empty nest already. Because she knows, of course she knows, that if Alex moves out, so will June.
But that’s not what needs to be focused on right now. Right now, she pulls her kid in for the tightest hug she can without hurting him and squeezes out a muffled, “Congratulations, baby,” into the shoulder of his suit jacket.
Alex stiffens in her arms, momentarily shocked, then winds his arms around her just as tightly. After a long beat, he asks, “You’re not disappointed that I’m not staying here to work with you?”
Ellen pulls back, holding him at arm’s length by his shoulders, and shakes her head. “No. Will I miss having you and your sharp mind around? Of course I will. Your help was invaluable on the reelection campaign. But law… it suits you.”
She has more she wants to say, more reassurances she wants to give to him, but Alex throws himself back into her arms once again. From over his shoulder, she makes eye contact with Prince Henry, who is standing back and watching them with obvious and clear fondness written all over his face.
Once he notices her looking at him, he shoves his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up by his ears in an awkward stance as he keeps his distance, letting them have their moment together. “Speaking of your campaign,” he eventually begins, voice soft and hesitant to interrupt, “I’m sure the rest of my family would also want me to pass on their sincerest congratulations on your win, Madam President.”
Alex groans and pulls out of her arms, turning to stand between the two of them instead. “Alright, no, nuh uh, nope. We’re not doing this. You two have got to get over all the protocol and professionalism and get comfortable around each other, because Henry isn’t going anywhere. We’re moving in together, for fuck’s sake! You can’t address him by his title forever, and you,” he says, circling around on the other boy and jabbing a finger in his chest, “Have got to stop standing on formality and calling her ‘ma’am’ like you have to do when officially addressing your grandmother. Stop being the Prince of Wales and the President of the United States and act like my boyfriend and my mom, damn.”
“We do have to work together for four more years now, you know,” Ellen says, amused. “We’re going to have to keep some semblance of formality with each other.”
Alex throws his hands up in faux frustration. “Not when we’re just around family!”
Henry grins, reaching out to grab him from behind and slot his chin over his shoulder. “Family, are we? Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, love.”
With a roll of his eyes, Alex slaps at Henry’s arms wrapped around his waist, but Ellen can’t help but notice that deep blush blossom once more. “You know what I mean, asshole.”
She watches them banter back and forth with an indulgent smile. She knows that they do need to have a serious conversation at some point about the two of them running off without any security and all the dangers that could present, but… maybe, just for tonight, it’s okay for her to set all the expectations and protocols aside and focus on being a proud mom, happy for her son reaching yet another major milestone in his relationship.
Once they’ve settled down, Ellen reaches out to tug Henry in by his shoulder and says, “So, New York, hm? I assume it’s not just Alex bringing you over here.”
“Not quite, though he was definitely what pushed me into seriously figuring out a way to make it work,” he admits, lips tugging upwards in a clearly lovesick smile. “But my friend Percy and I are going to be opening up shelter for queer youth in Brooklyn - the first of many, hopefully. I’d love to show you the plans and tell you all about it some night that’s perhaps a bit less hectic. I imagine we’ve taken up quite enough of your time as is.”
“Nonsense,” Ellen says, grabbing a folding chair from behind her and settling in, gesturing for both of them to take seats as well. “You’re practically family, and honestly, I’d love to do whatever we can to support this project as well. So, start at the beginning, Henry. I want to know, I promise.”
It takes a bit more encouragement, but eventually he gives in and begins to lay out the details of his foundation, talking animatedly about the fundraisers they’ve planned and the incredible location they’d managed to scout, pulling out his phone to show her pictures of the place.
When Alex catches her eye from over his shoulder during one of Henry’s particularly enthusiastic ramblings and mouths a silent ‘Thank you,’ she makes a mental note reminding herself to tell him later that he was right.
This one’s definitely not going anywhere.
1: ‘sugar’
December, 2021
“This fucking sucks,” Alex says, flopping down onto the couch. “I can’t believe her.”
Henry brings a hand up to rest atop his head, raking his fingers slowly through Alex’s curls. “It’s alright, love. We knew this might happen.”
“It’s not alright! Tonight was supposed to be special.”
Head cocked in confusion, June prods his leg with her socked toes from the other end of the couch. “It’s just dinner. She misses it all the time, always has. We’ll just have to do it another time.”
“I don’t want to do it another time,” he says. He knows he sounds like a petulant child, but he’s also unsure of how to put into words just how much he’d been looking forward to tonight. How much it meant to him. What it was supposed to represent.
“Your mother is a busy woman,” Henry reminds him softly, pulling Alex’s legs until they’re settled across his own lap, as if he could somehow cuddle the disappointment and pain straight off his boyfriend’s face. “I’m sure whatever came up was something important.”
“This dinner was important!” Alex snaps, then immediately ducks his head, letting out a heavy huff of an exhale. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take this out on you. I know you’re right, I just… I wanted tonight to go perfectly.”
Nora, who up until now had been silently observing them all from across the sitting room, draped the wrong way across an oversized armchair, tosses a small chocolate snowman at him from a bowl on the table. She gives him a nod of approval when, even through his haze of frustration, Alex manages to catch it mid-air. “You and Ellen are way too similar, you know.”
Mid-bite, Alex balks, nearly choking on the candy. “Nora, what the hell?” Henry claps him on the back a couple of times as he coughs, handing him a nearby water bottle to take a drink. “First of all, we are not. And second of all, what does that have to do with her bailing on tonight?”
She raises an eyebrow at him, giving him a long, silent, appraising stare, like she’s trying to figure out if those were serious questions or not. Then, “Yes you are. And everything, Alejandro. You’re upset because she got too caught up in some aspect of work and is late to or going to miss a specially planned dinner.” Pausing, she turns her attention to Henry. “How many times have you had to drag Alex kicking and screaming from work to eat or go to bed?”
Darting his eyes over to Alex, Henry concedes, “Fairly regularly. At least one night a week.”
“I am in law school. In case y’all haven’t heard, it’s fucking hard, okay? Elle Woods was a liar.”
“I will not take this Reese Witherspoon slander,” June says with mock seriousness, reaching over to grab some chocolate for herself. “She is a goddess and must be respected as such, little brother.”
“My point is,” Nora says loudly overtop them, interrupting their bickering, “That you also are a chronic overachiever who doesn’t know his own limits and immerses himself in work until the outside world as a whole ceases to exist. Where do you think you learned it from? Your mom didn’t just waltz into position as the first female president, after all.”
Alex scowls, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “Fine, maybe we’re a little similar.”
“You also both use the same pet name for your partner,” she continues immediately, not letting up for a second for that first revelation to sink in.
“Wait, what? No. No, we don’t. Absolutely not.”
A devious smile tugs at Nora’s lips, like it brings her the utmost pleasure to poke and prod at Alex, to tease him relentlessly. “You’ve never noticed that she calls Leo ‘baby’?”
Alex can feel his own face fall, his eyes widen, as he scrubs back through his memories, thinking over all the late night pizza dinners, the movie nights, the ‘one good thing, one bad thing’ sessions. The more he thinks about it, the more times he can recall. How has he never noticed?
“I think you broke him, honey,” June laughs, standing to move from her spot on the couch to instead curl up in the overstuffed chair with Nora.
With a loud groan, Alex plops his forehead down onto Henry’s shoulder. “I can never call you that ever again, oh my god.”
Henry purses his lips, hiding his face in Alex’s curls as he tries not to laugh. “Darling, I think it’s sweet. Your mum and Leo have a very loving relationship that we’d be lucky to emulate over our lives.”
“No, stop it,” he mumbles, voice muffled by the thick wool of Henry’s Christmas sweater. “I’m never living this down. Nora’s ruined it. It’s weird now.”
Nora and June high five, enjoying the chaos they’ve sown.
“You’ve many of her good qualities too, you know,” Henry says - quieter this time, more for Alex than the room at large, obviously trying to change the subject to something less embarrassing to bring him some relief.
It doesn’t pull Alex away from where he’s clinging tightly to his side - not entirely, at least. But Alex does pick his head up just enough that he can peek up at him through his lashes. “... Go on.”
Before he does, Henry leans over to press a lingering kiss to the middle of Alex’s forehead, the only tiny sliver of skin he can see. “You’re both two of the most genuine, giving people I’ve ever met, for one,” he says. “I’m constantly in awe of all the work she does for her country, trying to make it better for everyone, even the people who don’t agree with her personal beliefs. And you have that same compassion and work ethic built into you, Mr. ‘I want to be a lawyer to do the most good I can to help others’.”
“Aww man, you made it sappy,” Nora says with a sigh, leaning back into June’s embrace. “And we were having such fun too.”
Without prying himself off Henry’s shoulder to look, Alex flips her off, which serves only to make Nora chuckle again.
The room falls quiet after that, the crackling of the old fireplace replacing the tittering of laughter that had previously filled it. With a soft level of vulnerability he rarely openly shows, Alex says, “I know I complain, but thanks for trying to lighten the mood, guys.”
June pushes up out of Nora’s embrace and moves to sit at her brother’s side instead, throwing an arm over his shoulder to tuck him in close. “Wanna talk about why tonight was supposed to be such a big deal, baby bro?”
“Don’t call me that,” Alex intones back, almost entirely on instinct, the words barely even needing to register. Then, he drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Look, it’s going to sound stupid when I say it out loud.”
From his other side, Henry brings a hand to rest on his knee, giving it a squeeze for reassurance. “If it’s bothering you this much, it isn’t ‘stupid’.”
Alex refuses to pick his head up as he mumbles out a barely there, “I wanted to give you some kind of a fun, normal Christmas.”
He feels Henry stiffen next to him for the briefest of moments, then he gently pries Alex’s hands off his face, grabbing both of his hands up tightly in his own instead. “What do you mean, love? Talk to me.”
With a heavy sigh, Alex lets himself slump back against the couch, lets his head loll along the back ridge until he finally meets his boyfriend’s gaze. “It’s just… I know that Christmas in the past has always been staged down to the minute for you. Full of photoshoots at the palace and press appearances and forced smiles. And I know that this year won’t be any different on the actual day,” he adds quickly, sensing Henry about to point it out. “I know we have to fly over there in a couple of days for the actual holiday to do all of that scheduled stuff with your family, but I wanted this weekend for us. No cameras, no media people all up in our faces. Just us.”
“Like how it was before Mom was president,” June says, a knowing, soft tone to her voice.
Sitting up a bit straighter, Alex nods in agreement. “Exactly. Like we’re a normal family. Hence the big dinner, even though it’s just a regular weekend.”
Before any of them can comment any further, Henry wraps Alex up in a hug. “You are… the most ridiculously sweet man, you know that?”
“Now now, don’t say that, you’ll give him a big head,” Nora teases, though she too gets up from her chair to instead stand behind the rest of them on the couch, draping her arms over Henry and Alex’s hug, beckoning to June to join them as well.
Chin tucked over her brother’s shoulder, June says, “I’m sure she’d be here if she could be. Did she know what you were planning?”
Alex doesn’t answer, a little too choked up by everyone pulling him in for a group hug, but he does nod again.
“Then I’m sure she’ll be here as soon as she can.” And even though Alex knows that June’s just trying to reassure him, make him feel better, some part of him still knows that she’s right too. Logically, he knows that his mom wouldn’t miss this without a good reason.
It still stings, though.
Before any of them can pull away, a quiet knock sounds from the door as Leo pokes his head in. “Hey, kiddos. Alex, June, your dad arrived a few minutes ago, as a head’s up. He’s running up to one of the spare rooms to drop his bags off, but then he said he’d come find everyone.” With a slight wince, he continues, “And the kitchen staff said to let you know that they really suggest we eat soon. They’re keeping everything as warm as possible, but there’s only so much they can do. I told them I’d come see what you guys said and then report back.”
All eyes swivel to Alex, and with a sigh, he extricates himself from the human-shaped pile on the couch. “Tell them to go ahead and set the table,” he says softly, rubbing his hands up and down his own arms. “I don’t want all their work to go to waste. Mom’ll show up when she shows up.”
Leo gives him a sad smile in return. “Sorry, buddy. She should arrive soon. Last I heard she was a little caught up with her final appointment for the day, but it wasn’t something she could miss.”
“Hopefully it’s nothing too serious,” Henry says as he stands to join Alex at his side.
“It’s… important, but not serious. That’s all I can say, I think. Anyway, shall we head in then?”
—
Once they’ve all washed up and gotten back together again - having picked up Oscar Diaz along the way as well - Leo leads them to the State dining room, and Alex stops dead in his tracks as soon as they cross the threshold.
“We’re using the State room? Not the Family room?”
From beside him, Henry chimes in with, “What’s the difference?”
“The Family dining room is the mid-size dining room of the White House. There’s a small, cozy one upstairs - the President’s dining room - that we use most of the time if we have the chance to sit down together as a family, but the table there only seats a handful of people,” Leo explains, quietly ushering them all in to sit down as he does so. “The State dining room is the largest. You’ll recognize it from State Dinners, Henry.”
Even as Leo is leading him, hand on his shoulder, to his seat, Alex can feel his brain moving a million miles an hour trying to make sense of the overly-large set and dressed table before him. “I know I said I wanted to make the dinner special, but this seems a little above and beyond. We won’t even use half these seats!”
“Yes, well, you know me and my table settings,” Leo acknowledges with a wry sort of grin. “It’s so easy to get carried away.”
“Everything looks great, Leo,” Nora chimes in, taking her place between June and Pez. “These centerpieces might be your best yet!”
He preens a bit under the praise, as he sets his napkin across his lap with a flourish. “Thank you, Nora dear. All of the dove sculptures are made entirely of recycled metalworks, all the feathers individually carved out. I’m glad the effort didn’t go unnoticed.”
“You made all of these?” Henry asks, sliding his finger along the delicate vanes, watching in awe as they flare and splay apart in a way that manages to both look and feel realistic, despite being made entirely of metal. “They’re gorgeous.”
“They are,” Oscar agrees, clapping the other man on his shoulder as he walks past him to his own designated spot. “You have quite the gift, my friend.”
“Enough, enough,” Leo says with a chuckle, waving off their praise with a flick of his hand. “Let’s not let this food sit any longer than it already has.” His eyes dart down to his watch so quickly that Alex isn’t sure if any of the rest of them notice, but he clocks the movement, and it only serves to make him furrow his brow further. “Oscar, would you like to lead us in a blessing of sorts?”
“Absolutely. Years of growing up with strict Catholic parents prepared me for this moment,” he jokes. Then, much more solemnly, he folds his hands and bows his head. “Bendícenos Señor, y estos tus dones, que estamos a punto de recibir, de tu generosidad, por Cristo, Nuestro Señor. Amén.”
The gathered group echoes the final sentiment, then begins to unravel their rolls of silverware, light clanking sounds filling the air just enough that the knock on the door almost isn’t heard. But Leo springs up out of his chair and practically bounces over to the double doors, pulling them open with a smile.
And there stands Ellen Claremont… along with the vast majority of Henry’s immediate family.
Alex’s fork falls out of his hand, landing on his plate with a singular jarring clang that echoes throughout the hall like the chiming of a bell.
“Mom?” is all he manages to force out, breathless in his shock. He’s sure his jaw is practically scraping the floor, but he can’t seem to remember how to stop staring.
Beside him, Henry stands, his chair sliding back with a scrape against the carpet, one hand clenched tightly on Alex’s shoulder as if he needs to borrow his strength to push to his feet.
Ellen leans in to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek as she passes by, then makes her way over to where Alex is still sitting, his gaze darting back and forth between her and the small crowd waiting in the doorway. Some part of his mind registers June - looking equally as shocked and surprised - pulling her phone out to record whatever is happening.
Alex is grateful, because he’s not sure that any of this is actually registering right now.
“What the hell?” Alex asks as his mom pulls him up by his hands, clenching them tightly in hers. “What did you - what is - how? ”
Henry’s hand clenches tighter on his shoulder, likely holding himself back from running to - at the very least - greet his mother and sister.
“First of all, let me apologize for being late.” Alex scoffs, that hardly seeming to be the most important thing going on currently, but his mom holds up a hand in a plea for him to quiet down again. “It shouldn’t have happened, no matter the reason, and I am sorry that I didn’t just tell you what was going on. But unfortunately there were some issues due to a couple of storms over the Atlantic that ended up causing unforeseen flight delays. We kept hoping they’d send word that they’d finally arrived, that we wouldn’t have to cancel this, so I kept waiting,” Ellen admits, chuckling a bit - a nervous, quiet thing that Alex knows means she’s trying not to let on just how truly guilty she feels. “The weather did not want to cooperate with our surprise.”
Any lingering frustration or anger he may have been feeling went out the window the second Leo opened the State dining room doors.
“You… you flew Henry’s family out here for this?” he asks, still trying to wrap his brain around what’s going on.
His mom gives his now-trembling hands a squeeze and nods, a gentle, more relaxed smile spreading across her features as she slowly comes to realize that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t upset with her after all. “You said you wanted a full family Christmas. So I called Catherine,” she pauses just long enough to gesture to Henry’s mother, beckoning her over until she joins their little circle, “And we got to work.”
Catherine reaches out then to tuck a strand of her son’s hair behind his ear, resting her hand on his cheek afterwards rather than pulling back. “Surprise, love.”
“Happy Christmas, H!” Bea calls out to them loudly, already wrapped up in a tight hug with Nora and June, all three of them swaying back and forth on the spot with the force of it.
A myriad of expressions seem to fly across his boyfriend’s face before he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, to shield some of the sheer shock that he seems to have finally settled into. “You didn’t have to do this, Ellen,” he whispers, wide, wet eyes dancing back and forth between his own mother and Alex’s.
“No, we didn’t have to,” Ellen concedes, dropping one of Alex’s hands clasped in hers to settle it instead on Henry’s shoulder. “But we wanted to. I know you haven’t had the chance to head back to London to visit your family in a while now, so your mom and I worked together to bring them to you. When we say the ‘full family,’ we mean you and yours now too, sugar.”
Alex glances around the room - at Philip arm-in-arm with a four-month pregnant Martha, both caught up in conversation with his dad; at June and Nora, all grins and laughter and more hugs than he can count as they reunite with Bea at long last; at Pez admiring and questioning Leo about his tablescape handiworks; and at the newly crowned Queen of the United Kingdom here, plotting with, and apparently on a first name basis with his mom - and swears he can feel his heart swell.
It’s been a long, rough journey to get here - full of scandals and heartbreak and therapy and hard work - but he wouldn’t change their weird little unconventional family for anything.
