My humble contribution for STEAMM. A modern AU in which Martha isn't their grandmother.
x-X-x
"You're certain about this?" Anthony asked, looking at his wife over the top of the brochure again. Edith pulled her attention from the passing scenery and smiled.
"I think it will help." She nodded. "Plus, the train's almost there, too late to turn back now."
"Do you really believe it will help?"
"Yes, Anthony. We need to take care of these… these issues before they get bigger than us."
He hesitantly agreed, she was right, she was always right. Despite his insisting she was right about their marriage. Anthony was thankful everyday that she didn't let him walk away, that after five years of marriage they were still quite happy. Although there was a tension as of late, a hesitance, a tendency to handle each other with kid gloves. Ever since…
"We're here, dearest." She smiled.
That smile was why he agreed to take a week to go air out their problems with a group of strangers. He wanted to see that smile more often, like when they first married. If this was what they needed to do, then it was what they would do.
x-X-x
"I still think this is a ridiculous notion." Mary sighed, looking out the window as Matthew drove them through the countryside.
"It's a week of our lives and I think it will be a week well spent."
"We don't have problems."
It was Matthew's turn to sigh. They were certainly having problems. First they had problems conceiving, then with the injections, then adoption. Now it seemed a fight broke out every time the topic was broached. They tried talking to a therapist in the city, but cell phones, appointments, and assistants always seemed to interrupt. Secluded in the country, the rest of the world locked away, it would be a real chance to sort things through. As the very least Matthew was hoping that a decision might finally be made on the subject.
"Here we are." Matthew announced, shifting the car into park in front of the small inn.
"Rather quaint, isn't it."
x-X-x
The only sound in the sitting room was the sound of fingers moving across the keypads of their smart phones. Sybil was enthralled by a new speech on her Blackberry, while Tom tapped out a scathing reply to his latest critics on his iPhone. The pair seemed to work nonstop lately; Sybil was running for Parliament while Tom ran the most popular political blog in the country. They were quickly becoming a political power couple in London.
"Did you see the last forward I sent?" Tom chuckled.
"Hmm? Oh, yes." She laughed, neither looking up from their phones.
Once more they lapsed into silence. This had become commonplace in their marriage. When they first married Sybil was seventeen and Tom was twenty-one, back then everything was passionate and spontaneous. That was ten years ago, before they became responsible adults that had to worry about events and schedules and their daughter Vi. Without realizing it their world changed completely, slowly but surely their romantic dinners morphed into leftovers from different lunch and dinner meetings and a nanny to look after their daughter. The day Vi asked if the nanny was her real mum was the day the Bransons realized something had to change.
"You packed a few sweaters, didn't you?" Came a familiar voice from the front door.
"Yes, Anthony. And if all else fails I'll steal one of yours."
"Edith?" Sybil finally put her phone down, surprised to see her sister and brother-in-law at the door.
"Sybil!"
"What are you doing here?"
"Same as you I suppose."
"Matthew, I can carry my own suitcase. You don't have to dote-" Mary fell silent as they realized who else was in the entrance way of the inn. "What on earth are you all doing here?"
"Did mama send all three of us the same article?" Sybil asked, answered by a chorus of realization.
Before anything more could be said a pair of pocket doors slid open revealing a tall woman in her 60s. She was fit with bright red hair and a welcoming smile.
"Marvelous! You're all here." Her accent was American and her tone jovial. "I'm Doctor Martha Levinson, of the Newport Levinsons."
"What precisely are you a doctor of?" Mary interrupted.
"My degrees are on the wall of my office, if you're so inclined." She moved to the side, gesturing to the room behind her.
"That's not necessary." Edith smiled, putting a hand on her sister's arm.
"Have we already become acquainted?" Martha questioned.
"We're sisters." Sybil explained.
"And the men who married them." Anthony offered.
"Really? Well, this is certainly different. But I look forward to the group sessions." The doctor chuckled. "Mrs. Hughes will show you to your rooms, then we'll meet down here in a few minutes and get started."
"I hope you've got a first aid box on hand." Tom murmured as he passed the doctor.
"With marital groups? Always."