Page 17 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
Mum stood up with a smile. “Of course you can, sweetie.”
“I’ll get my boots!” Danny sped off through the room, and his excited footsteps thundered against the old wooden flooring that we’d painstakingly restored last year.
Mum let out a long sigh and looked at me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I stood up with a shrug, not meeting her gaze. “I thought Zara was supposed to be home last night.”
“She was.” She folded her arms across her chest. “One of her colleagues is apparently unwell, and her boss asked if she’d stay to complete their project and do the presentation this Friday night.”
“She hasn’t seen him in person for two months! You’d think she was out of the country, not a few hours away in London.”
“I know, but what am I supposed to do? It’s not as if Danny doesn’t have a parent here, after all.”
I rubbed my hand down my face. She was right—he had Beth, but it wasn’t the same. “She’s so busy with the shop. She’s got Hazel and Julian’s wedding to deal with plus all her Christmas orders. Can she really afford the time to cut her hours short? She’s always open in the evenings at this time of year.”
Mum held her hands out. “She’s going in early. It’s her compromise. She said this morning she’d rather be here on an evening, and I don’t mind doing the school run at all. I don’t know how she’s getting it all done, but she’s furious at your sister.”
“She can join the club. She can’t hide from her responsibilities just because she can’t get over losing Dad.”
She swallowed, looking down. “We all deal with our grief in different ways, Thomas. You know that.”
“I do know that. It’s been over a year, Mum.” I rested my hands on her shoulders. “Andyouhaven’t been allowed to grieve because she’s burying herself in her work, leaving you and I to pick up the slack while Beth works. There’s no excuse for it when she can work from home.”
“Thomas—”
“No. When she’s home, we need to talk to her. She doesn’t need to take off for a month or more at a time and keepextending her time there and letting Danny down. He’s six years old. It’s not fair on him, Mum, and it’s not fair on Beth. She shouldn’t have had to shut the shop yesterday to get him from school when he hurt himself. Zara should have been here to do that.” I checked the time on my watch. “He and I will take Beth some lunch before we go to the tree farm. He’ll like that.”
Mum sighed and patted my cheek. “Maybe you’re right. Your father would wring your sister’s neck if he were here.”
“There we are, then. Without him, I’m going to have to do it. I’ll be with Danny all day and when we’re done, I’m telling her she needs to get herself home or else.”
“Or else what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe being here is too much for her, but I just don’t know, Mum. Maybe it’s this place. Maybe they’d be better off moving out temporarily.”
“You’d kick out your sister and Danny?”
“Of course I wouldn’t. Don’t be so silly. This is as much their home as it is ours, but if being here with the memories is too much for Zara and is stopping her from being a parent, then it might be for the best.” I stepped away from her. “Something must change. For Danny’s sake.”
“I’m ready!” Danny zoomed back into the room with his dinosaur wellington boots on… and his coat inside out.
We laughed at him.
“I think not, Danny!” Mum said, walking over to him and ushering him through the door. “Your coat is inside out, and you’re not wearing nearly enough clothes for those cold temperatures. It’s snowing out there!”
“Uncle Tommy said it isn’t settling!”
“Not yet it’s not, but that doesn’t mean it’s not so cold that your fingers won’t fall off!”
“My fingers? Oh, no! I want to keep my fingers! I can’t play with my dinosaurs if I have no fingers!”
I coughed into the crook of my elbow to disguise my laugh and followed them out to get myself ready. By the time I was ready to leave, Danny was already waiting by the front door and was bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Are you ready?” I asked. “We have just enough time to go and see Mumma with some lunch if you want.”
His face lit up. “Yes! She likes sandwiches. Can we get her a sandwich?”
“Of course.” I opened the door. “Careful, it might be a little slippery, and we don’t need another trip to the hospital, do we?”
