Allies: Home Front

Chapter 5

"I don't understand what this has to do with us," P snapped as she, Jan, and the kids were toted off to the White House.

"A riot that size because of something the White House is demanding is dangerous, even if it is overseas." Mr. George glanced in the rearview mirror at P. "I really am sorry. I know this meant a lot to you."

P just nodded and gazed out the window of the speeding car. All Mr. George had been able to inform the First Lady of was that there was a massive riot outside of Buckingham Palace, caused by the U.S.'s demand that Great Britain meet the amount of aid being sent to the recuperating middle eastern countries.

The line of cars pulled into the White House driveway and dropped the occupants off. Mr. George and a few other agents were given the job to escort P, Jan, and the kids inside without anyone noticing, including the tourists and staff that worked on the first floor.

P slid out of her black heels and tossed her black veil over her head when they made it to the residence. A small memorial service for Michael was to be held around noon, so P saw no point in changing out of her mourning clothes. "Is Bobby here?" P asked an aide.

"Yes, Mrs. Conoroy, the president just arrived via helicopter."

"Thank you."

An array of small sandwiches, crackers, cheeses, and meats had been set out in the west sitting hall, and the kids all dug in. Jan was looking defeated on the couch, in deep thought. P sat next to her sister in law and held her hand, hoping it would comfort her in some way.

The sound of a door opening was followed by tired footsteps, only meaning one thing. "Daddy!" Ben screamed, running to greet Bobby.

P smiled softly at her husband, her mind flashing to the article describing Noel Nichols at Steve's party, in her Palm Beach home. "Hi, Bob. What's going on?"

"Oh, just a riot. The guard will have it under control in no time." Bobby patted Mannon on the head, ruffled Ben's hair, and kissed Jan on the cheek before going to greet his nieces and nephews who were scattered on the floor because of a lack of sitting space.

"Hey, P," Bobby said as if remembering something important.

"What?"

"The princess went into labor on the helicopter taking her out of Buckingham palace."

"Oh my god," Jan exclaimed. "She's hardly 8 months along!"

P knew that Poppy was a bit farther along than the rest of the world thought, due to the fact that the babies were conceived a few weeks before her marriage.

"I hope she's alright, she's probably so scared," P muttered to herself. Poppy had called P the night before to tell her that Fritz had filed for divorce. The news would be kept secret for a while, until after the babies were born. But that was sooner than expected.

"Liza?" P called. Her chief of staff came from around the corner, her eyes questioning.

"Can you send the biggest arrangement possible to the princess's hospital room? Anything white."

Liza nodded. "Of course."

P wrung her hands out of nervousness for her friend. "I hope she's okay, it must all be so stressful."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Jan comforted. "Wouldn't that be strange if her babies had the same birthday as Michael?"

"If she can keep them in for two more days they'll have the same birthday as me," Bobby added absentmindedly. Though Bobby had been three years older than Michael, the brothers had birthdays only two days apart.