Page 9 of The Princess Home for Christmas

He leaned back and closed his eyes. Sometimes the burdens in his life seemed heavier than he thought possible. At least he had a chance with Dahlia. For so many years he had been fascinated with her. But even so, he wouldn’t still now be interested if he hadn’t stumbled upon a shot of her helping out in the tent city. Her brothers couldn’t possibly know the extent to which she was helping refugees. That she had created a haven of sorts of her own and that she accepted as many refugees as she could. He wondered at the legality of the whole operation, in fact he was pretty sure she went under the international radar and just helped people without any authorities knowing at all.

When he realized that about her, he fell back in love and had never been able to shake his fascination. She was, of course, stunning. People often stared at her, men and women alike, just because she was one of those rare people who you just want to look at. But plenty of men also stared at her for other reasons and Thomas wanted to sink his fist in their eye. She carried herself so confidently, avoided praise. She did things just for the sake of doing good.

What would she think if she knew Theresa? He leaned forward and carried his head in his hands. She was a nightmare waiting to happen.

His phone dinged. Theresa. He groaned.

Uncle Tommy, this is Joe. Somethings wrong with Mommy. She won’t wake up.

“Turn around. Back to Theresa’s.”

His driver immediately made the correction, and Thomas texted. “Joe, what’s the matter? Where is she?”

“On the kitchen floor. Come back.”

“I’m coming.”

Thomas called the emergency number and told them the address. His driver picked up speed.

They arrived by way of the front door this time. Joe held it open and Thomas ran into the apartment, calling to Joe, now behind him, “Gather the girls. Put them in my car down there. Do you see it? The black one.”

Joe nodded and ran off.

Thomas stepped into the kitchen and then grimaced, frozen in shock for a moment. He was sick that Joe had to see such a thing. His mother lay on the floor, obviously she had drunk way too much, hair stuck in a pile of her own vomit, vodka dripping from an overturned bottle, its contents soaking into Theresa’s clothing.

Her pulse felt faint. Thomas couldn’t tell how much she had drunk. He checked his watch as if that would bring the ambulance sooner. At last the sirens sounded far away and then closer and when Thomas thought he would pass out from waiting for them, they shouted their arrival from the open door.

Men rushed in and Thomas explained what he knew. Then he left, giving the man his card. “Have the doctors call me when they know anything.”

He rushed to the car, and found it difficult to swallow the immediate lump in his throat. Three pairs of wide eyes, scared, peered at him when he opened the door.

“Hey kids.”

They didn’t make a sound until Joe finally asked, “Is she all right?”

Thomas felt his own face pinch. “I don’t know. But she’s going to the only people who can help her now.” He knew the children would be taken from her. She would be committed to a facility to help her detox and sober up. And who knew what the long term plans for the children would be. At least for now, they were safe. And would be in a good home. If only Theresa would reveal the father.

His phone dinged again. Fearful of what worse news it could bring, he tilted his phone to see it with half an eye. Dahlia.

Been thinking about you. Can’t get you out of my mind actually.

Of all the moments for Dahlia to reach out. Thomas frowned.

“Who’s that?” Joe’s eyes widened, obviously thinking the worst.

“Just a friend. They won’t know anything about your mother for a long time. In fact, I’ll go back to check on her as soon as I get you three settled. Do you want to meet the nicest grandma in the entire world?”

The youngest, a sweet girl, smiled. “I do.”

“Excellent, because she is more than excited to meet you, and the house always has cookies. We are going there now.”

The three looked quite a bit more cheerful with that news, though Thomas wished he could erase the pain in Joe’s eyes, the worry he had to bear, the burden of being the son to such a woman.

He had to answer Dahlia. Oh? Talk to me.

They pulled up to the gate outside his house. He had updated all security and hired a new team to take care of his mother when she visited.

He had texted ahead that the kitchen be prepared.

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