More than a Divorce Statistic

My parents and my in-laws were very impressed when I explained about the press conference. My kids couldn't have cared less because they were waiting for their cake and ice cream.

The following day, I have to admit that I was scared to death. I had never done anything remotely like this. Plus, I was never fond of public speaking.

At nine fifty-five, Mr. Batterman led me into the main ballroom. I was stunned by the transformation. American flags and the British Union Jacks covered the back wall. Red, white, and blue garland was strung all around the room. The hotel band was set up to the right of a podium with an American flag and a British flag crossed in front in front of them.

As we walked toward the podium, I noticed that hundreds of people packed in with television cameras set up across the room's rear. My legs felt like jelly as I walked up the center aisle. All of a sudden, the people began to rise and started to clap. By the time I reached the front, the sound was deafening. My family had trailed behind me and were shown to seats near the front. My children's eyes were wide, and they stared around the room in total amazement. Both my mother and mother-in-law had tears running down their cheeks. When they were finally seated, my kids were bouncing on their chairs, firing one question after another at their grandparents.

When we got up on to the hastily erected platform, the band started playing the Star-Spangled Banner, followed immediately by God Save the King. Then Mr. Bannerman stepped up to the microphone and thanked everyone for coming. Then he gave a short introduction.

I had written out a short speech, but I immediately put it aside. I decided that I'd just wing it and let everyone know that I was grateful and humble for the outpouring, but that I felt so unworthy of it all.

Then the questions began. They wanted to know everything that had happened. One of the first questions was how I knew where the Prince was to rescue him. I admitted; I didn't even know he was the Prince until later in the hospital. I then explained how I had gotten so hopelessly lost and was just hoping that some kind person could point me in the right direction. This brought a laugh from the hard-bitten journalists.

They especially wanted details about the gunfight. I explained a little bit about it, but I spent most of my time thanking the SAS, who had truly rescued us. As I pointed out, if they hadn't arrived, I would have been dead and perhaps the Prince also.

After Mr. Batterman thanked everyone for coming, the reporters still yelled questions as I was walking out. I tried to answer the ones I could hear. Thankfully, I was quickly out of the ballroom and back in my room.

My kids were all over me, talking about all the people that had come to see me. The grandparents were in seventh heaven with all this excitement. For sure, when I planned this trip, none of us expected anything like this.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Sarah was standing there smiling at me. I gave her a hug and thanked her for coming.

She laughed. "As they say in America, wild horses couldn't have kept me away. Michael, you were fantastic. I was sitting in one of the back rows, and I've never heard the press speak so glowingly about anyone. They're usually a pretty jaded bunch, looking for the next scandal. But they loved how you kept trying to deflect the credit to everyone else. They especially loved it when you spoke of your deep respect and admiration for the Prince and how courageous he had been. Like I said, you were fantastic."

The following day, we were all invited to Buckingham Palace, even Sarah, which surprised me. It was during this visit that I learned something very unique about Sarah. First, she was a close friend of the Queen. They had gone to school together. The second thing I learned was that her real name was Lady Sarah Smythe. Her father was the Duke of something. I zoned out when Sarah began explaining her family history. It was too complicated.

Finally, the next day, we set off on our tour. To ensure our safety, the government had assigned a car with two security agents. The protection wasn't offered; it was required if we were to take our tour. I thought it was all a waste of these security men's time. But Sarah was happy to have the protection, so I didn't make a fuss.

Our first stop was in Manchester. I had always been a big soccer fan. I even played on the high school team and on an intramural team in college. Manchester United had always been my favorite professional team. I was hoping that maybe we could get a quick glimpse of the field before we toured the city. The Manchester Club did much better than that. When they found out I wanted to get a peek at the field, they organized a small reception at the stadium. There I was led out onto the field with my family and Sarah. I even got to meet a few of the players. I was overwhelmed with how nice everyone was to us.

Our next stop was Liverpool, and thankfully, it was a quiet visit. Since our schedule had not been made public, and the Royal Family had asked the press to respect our privacy, we blended in and had a marvelous time.

From Liverpool, we continued north, stopping wherever Sarah thought we might enjoy. I guess because she was a teacher, Sarah was a wealth of information. It made it so much more fun to have someone who understood the history and significance of each place we stopped.

We arrived in Glasgow and then on to Edinburgh, which we decided to make our home base. From there were could take day trips wherever we pleased. Again, we were able to move about freely. The initial frenzy had died down, and I was becoming yesterday's news. I was very happy about that. I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would willingly agree to be a celebrity.

During this tour, I found out that not only was Sarah a great guide but that I was totally enchanted with her. My parents and even my in-laws quickly became very fond of Sarah. And the kids were crazy about her. We had started out as casual friends, and now we were close friends. Then one evening, while Sarah and I were out for a stroll, I discovered that my feelings for her were much deeper. We had stopped to look up at the Edinburgh Castle when, on impulse, I leaned in and gave Sarah a soft kiss on the lips. She looked at me for a moment, surprised, and then she wrapped her arms around me, kissing me passionately.

We went back to her room, but I didn't know what to do next. Fortunately, Sarah had ideas of her own. She quickly began to undress me, and with that clue, I began to undress her. Naked, we both slid into her bed.

As we lay there looking at each other, she said, "Please don't hurt me."

"I'll be very gentle," I assured her.

"No, that's not what I mean," she said with fear in her eyes. "I know you like me, Michael. But I've fallen desperately in love with you. I'll still sleep with you, but if this isn't going to be serious, please tell me. It will hurt, but it would crush me if you led me on."

"Sarah, when Kerry died, I thought I would never be able to love another woman," I said gently. "You've shown me that I was wrong. I can't promise a happily ever after ending, but I do love you, and I feel so comfortable and at peace with you around."

That was all Sarah wanted to hear. She turned into a wild woman after that. It seemed that she couldn't get enough of me. At first, our lovemaking was wild passion but then became slow and tender. At two am, I slipped out of bed and back into my room. I didn't want the grandparents to know what Sarah and I had been doing. However, I was kidding myself because they were filled with smiles and smirks for both Sarah and myself at breakfast the next day.

All too quickly, the tour was over, and we were back in London. I arranged with my mother to watch the two kids, giving Sarah and me a chance to spend our last night together. The day we left was filled with hugs and kisses and tears. I think Sarah was terrified that once I got back home, I would forget about her. Fat chance.

Over the following months, I face timed with her each day and sometimes several times a day. The kids loved it when Sarah called because she always had some funny and fantastic tale to tell them. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, so I flew back to London and asked Sarah to be my wife. She, of course, said yes. Then we went around to talk to her father, who I learned was the Duke of Sterling. Sarah's mother had died some years ago.

The Duke of Sterling, or Percy as he asked his friends and family call him, lived on the ancestral estate. The House was enormous, and the grounds substantial. Sarah explained that the farming done on the estate paid most of the expenses, but not all. Therefore, the Duke had opened the family house to tours. The money from these tours made up the difference and paid the Duke more than sufficient funds to live.

"So, you wish to marry my little Sarah?" the Duke asked with a smile.

"Yes, sir, very much," I responded.

"You do know that her brother Edward will inherit the title and the estates?" he asked as if that would be anything I would be concerned with. "Not only that, but her title will die with her. It cannot be passed down to any children she has."

"Sir, let me assure you that I could care less whether Sarah has a title or not," I answered with a smile. "I love her and want to make her happy. I know that she would be very happy if you would give us your blessing. However, with your blessing or not, I intend to marry Sarah if she is willing to have me."

The Duke chuckled. "Perfect answer. I give my blessing with all my love."

The wedding was modest. Yet it was still larger than I would have liked. There were roughly a hundred people in attendance, including the King and Queen. Peter was also there with a lovely young lady. He was a teenager now, and before too long, would be expected to marry and produce an heir. My father was my best man, and both of my children were part of the wedding.

Sarah and I honeymooned in Bermuda and then flew back to Great Britain. We decided that to live in England during the school year and in America during the summer holiday. Grant and Louisa were enrolled in Ludgrove. I came to understand, it was a school that many royal families sent their children to. Sarah also adopted Grant and Louisa.

When we were living in Great Britain, the Queen asked Sarah and me to handle a few royal duties from time to time. These included visiting the sick in hospitals, visiting various schools, or opening new factories. Every time we would fill in, Sarah and I were greeted warmly. However, I have to admit that I was reluctant at first, but Sarah always made the outings fun for me. And she would reward me each time, later that night, in the bedroom.

Whether we're in Britain or the United States, Peter keeps in touch with us. When he made an official trip to the United States, he wanted to stay with us, but his security detail refused to consider that because of security concerns. From a scared young boy, Peter had become a very confident, dynamic, and charismatic young man. I couldn't be prouder of him if he was my own son.

Two years after we married, Sarah gave birth to a little boy. She insisted on naming him Michael Jr. A year later, we had a little girl, and we named her Charlotte. Eighteen months after that, another little boy arrived. We named him Thomas after my father. After all the pain and horror, my new life was so different but so loving. I felt truly blessed.

Now we're approaching our fifth wedding anniversary, and we've decided to celebrate it with a night out for dinner and a show. I've bought Sarah a gold necklace with three heart-shaped gold charms with each of our children's names and birthdates inscribed on the front. I hope she likes it.

Sarah:

I am trying to finish Michael's journal for him. On the night of our fifth anniversary, we went out to dinner. It was there that Michael gave me the gold necklace that I now wear every day. I was so happy and filled with love for my husband. I wasn't thinking about the play that we were going to see; I was only thinking about what we would be doing later.

As we exited the restaurant, I heard someone screaming at me. When I looked over, I saw my former husband, who was drunk and holding a gun. He screamed, "If I can't have you, no one can."

Just as he fired his gun, Michael pushed me away. So, instead of the bullet striking me, it hit Michael in the middle of his chest. All I remember after that was screaming for someone to please help us.

Michael lingered for three days in the hospital. I was by his side that whole time. On the evening of the third day, when he opened his eyes. I was so happy that Michael had come back to me. But he had simply marshaled the last of his reserves to tell me one last time that he loved me. He died shortly after that.

It's been two months since I last wrote in Michael's journal. I thought I could do it, but I wasn't strong enough then. I'm afraid that I will have to have his journal typed because my tears have smeared much of the ink and wrinkled most of the pages.

I'm still struggling with the loss of Michael. Our children are hurting too, so I have to be strong for them. My ex-husband was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life in prison.

The news of Michael's death hit both the people in Great Britain and the United States very hard. Flags were lowered to half-staff. Since Michael was a veteran, he was buried with full military honors in his hometown. To my great surprise, the King and Queen attended the funeral. Peter was there as well. He tried ever so hard to be brave, but he broke down when they lowered the casket into the ground. In a rare display of emotion from the Royal Family, the Queen hugged her son as he cried.

Now I'm left to pick up the pieces of my life. It's been very hard, but Michael did leave me with one gift that, I hope, will help see me through. At dinner that night, I told my husband that I was pregnant again. I had a little girl, and I named her Mary after my mother. She has Michael's eyes and his smile.

I have to stop now because it's time to feed Mary. All I can do now is push on as best I can for my children, especially because I know that it is what Michael wants me to do. God give me the strength. I still love and miss him so much.

If you're looking for a really good Christmas book, I suggest you check out A Christmas Tale Completed -- The Redemption of Jacob Marley. It tells the complete story of Ebenezer Scrooge and his partner, Jacob Marley. You can find it on Amazon.