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“Have a little faith in your son-in-law, Ma,” said Marge. “He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you, honey?”

“Absolutely,” said Tex, though he didn’t look entirely convinced.

“I still think you should give that spa idea another chance,” said Ma.

“Oh, God,” said Tex, sinking his head in his hands.

“No spa, Ma,” said Marge. “We don’t need it.”

“I need it!”

“No, you don’t. You’ve got a perfectly fine job at the office.”

“Perfectly boring job, you mean,” the old lady grumbled. “Having to listen to people whining about their kidney stones or blather on about their bladder.”

“You’re doing something good for mankind. It’s a noble profession.”

“Says you.”

Marge sighed and decided not to get worked up. Bad vibes for Grace.“By the way, can you check next door when you have a moment, honey? I have a feeling Odelia is in over her head with those guests of hers.”

“Guests? What guests?” said Tex, watching on in fascination as Grace wrapped her tiny little digits around his index finger.

“Oh, Tex. The guests! The Boggles!”

“What Boggles? What are you talking about?”

“John and Janine Boggle are staying next door. He’s the Prime Minister of England and she’s his wife. Apparently Tessa Torrance called and asked if they could stay over for a couple of days.”

“The Prime Minister of England is staying next door?”

Marge bit back a groan of exasperation. She loved her husband dearly, but sometimes he seemed to live on a different planet than the rest of them.“Yes, he arrived this morning and is planning to stay for a while.”

“But he shouldn’t—he can’t—Odelia has to rest.”

“I know, which is why you better go and check on her. I already said I’d help with the cooking and the cleaning, and maybe you can also chip in.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know, Tex—anything!”

“Uh-huh,” he said, looking unconvinced. “Does he have health issues? Is that why he’s staying with our daughter?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He just got canned from his job as PM,” said Ma, who was gently tickling Grace’s belly and receiving a lot of exuberant giggles as a reward.

“He got fired from his job?” asked Marge. This was news.

“Sure. Defrauded someone or something or whatever. I don’t know. I just scanned the headlines. Politicians behaving badly doesn’t make for interesting reading.”

Tex, who’d been scrolling on his phone, said, “Looks like he accepted a trip to some tropical private island as a gift from a billionaire friend of his.”

“So? What’s wrong with that?” said Ma. “If I had a billionaire friend and he offered me a trip to his private island I’d be on a plane quick as a flash.”

“The Prime Minister of a nation can’t accept free trips, Ma,” said Marge. “It opens him up to all kinds of accusations of favoritism.”

“I don’t get it,” said Ma with a frown. “Who doesn’t like to be the favorite?”

“Okay, so what if this billionaire owns a chain of supermarkets, and wants to build a superstore in the heart of London, only he’s been having trouble getting permission, and now all of a sudden his plans are being fast-tracked. People will say that he bought the approval by bribing his good friend the PM.”

“Okay. Still don’t get it.”

“It’s called corruption, all right? Which is why politicians cannot accept gifts from anyone. And even if Boggle did nothing wrong, it still looks bad that he would be hobnobbing with billionaires on their private island.”

“I say live and let live, but that’s just me,” said Ma.

“If this guy is out of a job,” said Tex. “Does that mean he’s flying home soon? Or that he’ll stick around indefinitely?”

They all shared a look of concern.“Go over there now, Tex,” Marge insisted. “Your daughter needs you.”

“Yes, Tex,” said Ma with a slight grin. “For once in your life be a man and do something.” Once Tex was off, huffing a little and muttering something to himself, Marge gave her mother a look of disapproval, she added, “What? What did I say?”

Marge sighed and gently tapped her granddaughter’s nose. “This is the family you’ve chosen, honey. Are you sure you want to stick around?”

“We’re a good family,” muttered Ma. “The best.” Then she brightened. “So have you considered how much money a spa can—“

“No, Ma. No spa.”

“But—“

“No spa!”

“Oh, fine. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, will you?”

Just then, Grace gurgled something and pulled Ma’s nose.

“Who needs a spa when we’ve got you, mh?” said Marge.

“You’re right,” said Ma. “Who needs a spa anyway?”

Marge looked up sharply.“Did you just tell me I’m right?”

“I know,” said Ma. “I must be softening with old age.”

Or because she’d just become a great-grandmother.

“Not that I’m old, mind you. Older, yes, but still young.”

“Of course, Ma. Of course.”

CHAPTER 20

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