"I looovvvveee cheese." Stan declared. Peggy smiled as she added the cheddar to the fondue pot and lit the candle underneath.
"Turn on the news." She called into the living room. She heard Stan get up and turn on the TV, then paddle back to the couch again. The airwaves were filled with more news of Vietnam and crime in the city, and Peggy always felt comforted by the fact that others were having a shittier time of it than her. She continued stirring as the cheese began to melt, and went to the fridge to get the can of Pilsner.
"Pegs – what are these?" Stan asked.
"What are what?" She strolled into the living room, where Stan was holding the pair of peacock-inspired earrings she had received a few days ago. He was looking at them, puzzled.
"You don't wear a lot of jewelry. Why did you pick these up?"
"They were a gift from Don when we went down to get our engagement ring." She replied nonchalantly. Stan turned his gaze from the earrings to her incredulously.
"He bought you an engagement ring and a pair of earrings from Tiffany's?" Peggy knew she was walking into something that she didn't want to, so she tried to veer off-course by shrugging.
"A girl's gotta get something from almost marrying Don." Stan wasn't amused.
"How much did these cost? How much did your fake engagement ring cost?" He demanded. Peggy shrugged again.
"I don't know. Why does it matter?"
"It matters, because some fake fiancee is buying you thousands of dollars worth of jewelry at the drop of a hat. It's insulting." He insisted.
"Fine, I'll return them." She turned to go back to the kitchen, and Stan got up and followed her, leaning against the wall and fixing her with a look of unbelievability.
"You don't return things to Tiffany's. I've got sisters, I know all about this shit. These couldn't have been less than $400. Why did he buy you extra jewelry? How much did the engagement ring cost?" Peggy sighed and opened the can of beer, pouring it into her fondue as she stirred.
"I don't know." She lied. "He just laid down some money, and-"
"Of course he did. I bet he just whipped out stacks of thousand dollar bills and you could hear the panties dropping from a mile around." Stan said bitterly.
"I don't care about the earrings, why should you? I said I'll return them, and give the money back to Don, and that is the last I want to hear about it." Peggy snapped, stirring viciously and avoiding looking at her boyfriend.
"Well, return the fucking engagement ring while you are at it. What, does it have 40 diamonds all piled on top of each other, along with a servant to hold up your wrist for the day?"
"Stan!" She whipped around, taking her spatula with her, and sending a spray of melted cheese across her kitchen. "It is a fucking pair of earrings. They're nice. They don't mean anything. And do you know what? Fuck you. I'm not returning them. I am going to keep them, and buy a peacock dress to match. So sit down, shut up, and wait for this goddamn fondue to be ready!" Stan opened his mouth to yell back, but then the phone rang. Irritated, Peggy crossed the kitchen and picked up the receiver.
"Olson residence." She snapped.
"Peggy, it's happening sooner than I thought it would."
"What is happening sooner?" She growled.
"It's Betty. She's in the hospital. She's not coming home again." Don sounded wounded and panicked, and she took a deep breath and tried to shove her irritation to the side.
"I'm sorry. Where is she?" She heard Don take a shuddering breath, and felt her anger melt away for a moment.
"She's out in Ossining. I need you to get ready as soon as possible. I'm going to pick you up, and we're going to drive out there right now."
"Don," she felt Stan's murderous glare, but ignored it. "I don't even have the ring yet. What are we going to do?"
"I am going to pick it up on my way over. It's been sized."
"OK." Don hung up, and Peggy sighed and hung her receiver back on the wall.
"What now?" Stan snapped.
"Betty's in the hospital, dying. We're rushing out to see her." She turned away from Stan and went into her bedroom.
"Jesus Christ Peggy. Is this going to be our life for the next 15 months? Running like puppies when Don says 'fetch'?"
"You don't have to do anything." She yelled irritably, picking out one of her best dresses from her closet..\ "Don needs to get Betty's approval, and if we don't go now, then he's never going to get it, and this will all be for nothing."
"So Don won't buy you any more ridiculously priced gemstones, I've got it." Peggy turned and marched back into the kitchen, and stood a few feet in front of Stan, her hands on her hips.
"If I was looking for a man to buy me 'ridiculously priced gemstones', I wouldn't be dating you." She turned back into her bedroom, leaving Stan with furrowed eyebrows and down turned lips.
The drive to Ossining was filled with Don's nervous tension and angst, and Peggy wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to comfort him, but felt that it would be rebuffed at this point, so she simply sat in the passenger's seat, tracing the band on her engagement ring. Don was smoking anxiously, his cigarette not leaving his lips for longer than it took him to exhale, and soon he was stubbing his filter in the ashtray. He instinctively search for his pack in his jacket pocket, but his hands betrayed him and couldn't seem to find the opening.
"Here." Peggy calmly reached in and took out his cigarette case and lighter. She put a cigarette to her lips and lit it, taking a puff before passing it into Don's right hand.
"Thanks." He muttered absent-mindedly, and took a long drag. "Now, I told her we've been seeing each other since I got back. Make up some bullshit about how you saw a change in me, or you were always secretly in love with me, or something. Make it convincing. Be affectionate. Not too affectionate – she's dying." He stopped his mumbling short and swallowed hard, his eyes staring intently at the road without really seeing it.
"Don, it's going to be OK." She said softly. "We're going to make this work."
"You're going to have to move in as soon as possible." He continued, and Peggy wasn't sure if he had heard her. "I've barely moved in, which is OK. Fill the place with womanly touches, like soap in the bathroom, endless amounts of toilet paper, and potpourri, and artwork of children frolicking in fields. I'm going to have to move Gene and Bobby in soon as well. Sally is away at boarding school most of the time, so I can worry about her things later." He took another drag, and Peggy was a little concerned that he might pass out if he didn't breath. He finally came up for air, and the rest of the trip was a silent drive towards the hospital.
Don took a deep breath as he stood at the entrance of the ward. He had raced through the countryside, determined to get here as fast as possible, and now that the moment arrived, he wished that he was still in his car, driving into the night until he was too tired to think. He felt Peggy at his side, waiting for him to lead the way, and he suddenly felt stupid and selfish. It seemed to him that he was a salmon trying to run upstream, and the time in he had spent in California was all for naught. He had experienced a sense there of being at one with life, instead of being a forgotten relic who watched it go by. Now he just felt empty and alone again, and wondered how he had once again dragged so many people into his train-wreck of a life. He suddenly felt Peggy slip her small hand into his, and he looked down at her kind face grimly.
"Are you ready?" She asked.
"No." He replied. But for a moment, he felt connected, and it gave him the strength to take a step forward, Peggy's soft palm in his right hand, his hat in his left, and cross the threshold into the future. He forced himself to take long, relaxed strides, and he looked around coolly, trying to find the room number that Henry had mentioned on the phone. He finally found it, and his heart lept into his throat. He slowly opened the door, and saw Betty lying on the hospital bed, eyes closed. He guided Peggy to her bedside, and they stood there together, gazing at her for moment. She looked like the antithesis of her former self. She was gaunt, grey and lifeless already, and her thin arms were connected to so many machines that it sickened him.
"Bets?" Don said cautiously. Betty stirred, and she turned her head to open her pale blue eyes.
"Hey." She replied softly, unsmiling. Don almost asked how she was, but second guessed it as gauche and unnecessary. He pulled Peggy a bit closer, moving his arm around her waist and she leaned into him, warm and soft.
"Bets, this is Peggy, my new fiancee."
"Hello Mrs. Francis." She said softly, smiling sadly. "You look lovely." Betty snorted.
"So you're a liar." Peggy shook her head.
"No, you've always just been a beautiful woman, no matter what the circumstances." Betty stared at her for a while, critically eyeing her.
"Henry went to pick up Sally." She said finally. "They and the boys should be here in half an hour." Don nodded.
"How are they treating you?" He asked. Betty shrugged.
"A lot of 'You poor thing' and 'You're so young'." Her lips twisted into a half smile. "It's nice that someone out there thinks I'm still young. Some the nurses let me out for a smoke, some of them forbid it. I'm spending my last hours being bossed around by a bunch of 18 year olds and old maids." She shook her head. "I guess it's OK. I ran out of cigarettes and Henry won't buy me anymore." Peggy roke away from Don and rummaged in her purse.
"Here." She offered her package of Virginia Slims. "I don't know if it's what you usually smoke, but it's what I have on me. Do you have a lighter?" Betty shook her head, and Peggy set both items on her bed. Betty picked them up and examined them for a moment, and then put them in her bedside drawer.
"Don, could you leave us for a moment?" She asked pointedly. A jolt of fear ran through him, but he simply nodded.
"I'll get a coffee." He excused himself, and Peggy was left with the former Mrs. Draper. She had expected to be more intimidated in Betty's presence, but she felt oddly serene. It felt like an honour to be at her bedside in her dying hours, to get to finally have a moment with someone she had known about for a decade, but never truly met.
"You've changed." Betty said softly, but with a hint of approval.
"It would be a little depressing if I hadn't." Peggy replied. Betty nodded.
"Don changes people."
"Well, you have to change if you need to put up with him." Peggy said, and Betty laughed but then dissolved into a fit of bone-rattling coughs. Peggy rushed over to her bedside table and poured a glass of water, and the blonde woman accepted it, taking sputtering sips.
"Thank you." She looked at Peggy piercingly again, and the brunette wondered if that was where Don had learned his soul-searing gaze. "Why are you marrying him?" She asked. Peggy's eyebrows shot up. "I'm dying, I get to ask any inappropriate question I want."
"No, no." Peggy shook her head. "Even if you weren't here, it would be a fair question. I guess, like you said, Don changes people. I used to be a quiet little secretary, and now I'm a copywriter with a big mouth, and that has a lot to do with him. He pushed me and pushed me until I learned to push back. He's challenging, often difficult to get along with, moody, self-absorbed, self-destructive... I don't need to tell you all of this, you know better than I do." Betty smiled kindly and nodded, and Peggy hoped that she was saying the right words. "But he is also incredibly kind and intelligent, and I think that you have to take the good with the bad. His bad parts push me to become a better person, to learn when to stand up for myself. And to be honest, those are a lot of the bad things about me, and I can learn from him what not to do. His good qualities are things I'd like to have more of, both in myself and in my life. And since he's come back from California, they seem to pop out a lot more, and I thought 'Maybe this is the right time.'" Betty reached for the cigarettes and lighter that Peggy had given her.
"What will you do when he cheats on you?" She asked pointedly. She pointed to the door to her room. "Close and lock that. I want to get one in before Henry comes back." Peggy did as she asked and returned to her bedside, hoping that Betty would forget her previous question she she lit her cigarette. She did not.
"Well?"
"Well," Peggy cleared her throat. "No one goes into a marriage with contingency plans. But I guess if that happened, I'd divorce him, take the alimony money to Italy and meet some beautiful Italian man." Betty laughed again.
"I speak Italian, you know."
"No, I didn't." Peggy was genuinely interested. "Where did you learn it? It is such a musical language." Betty smiled sadly.
"I modeled in Italy and picked it up."
"Say something." Peggy requested. "Something romantic." Betty smiled in amusement.
"Sommergimi di carezze fino a farmi affogare." Betty then took a long drag. "Smother me with caresses until I suffocate."
"That's... morbid."
"A boyfriend I used to have there said it to me all the time." The dying woman looked at Peggy again. "I was going to tell you that you don't know him at all, the real Don. But it looks like maybe you do." Peggy wasn't sure what to say, so she kept the silence until Betty spoke again.
"I most concerned about Sally. She's going to graduate in two years, and she is going to be unstoppable." Hrt face was filled with a wistful pride as she flicked the cigarette ashes into her bedside drawer. "I want to make sure that she doesn't wind up like I did. There are so many more options for her now than there were for me growing up. I want her to do whatever she wants to do, and I want people there to support her." She took another drag. "I suppose I wanted to meet you to make sure that you weren't another one of Don's bimbos or easy girls, looking for a rich husband to support her. I can tell that you are different from his usual tastes." Betty shook her head. "He needs to be needed, and to be honest, I'm not sure why he picked you, because I don't think that you really need someone else."
"I think that we all need people. I just tend to get a little too wrapped up in work, and I forget that sometimes." Peggy admitted.
"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad. You might be good for him in his old retirement age."
Don was pacing around, holding his coffee without drinking it, a cigarette in his other hand. He was anxious. He wanted to know what they were walking about. He was sure that she would do fine, but everything seemed so unmanageable. They seemed to be taking a long time. Was Peggy going to come out and get him? Or did she expect him to burst in the door and save her from Betty's questioning? He was about to go and check on them when he saw Henry and Sally marching in, boxes under their arms, with Gene and Bobby trailing behind.
"Welcome back." Don greeted. Sally glared at him as she eyed his cigarette.
"Really Dad?" Don stared back as he put his cigarette out in his coffee, and walked with the family towards Betty's room. Henry went to open the door, but frowned as he found it locked.
"Hello?" He pounded his fist, and a moment later Peggy was at the door, looking apologetic.
"Sorry, Betty just wanted some privacy. You know how it is, with nurses running in and out all the time."
"Who are you?" Sally frowned. Peggy looked a little taken aback, and glanced at Don.
"I'm Peggy, Don's fiancee. You must be Sally." The girl's frown deepened into an angry glare aimed at Don. Henry didn't seem to notice any of the exchange. He rushed to Betty, who, while still looking sickly and pale, was genuinely smiling, and Don saw the beautiful woman he had married in 1955.
"We were just talking about my time in Italy." She said. Henry paused, and sniffed the air.
"Were you smoking in here?" He demanded.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Francis." Peggy jumped in. "It's just me. Being trapped in a car with Don for two hours doesn't leave anyone smelling daisy fresh." Henry frowned, and seemed to see her for the first time.
"And who are you?"
"She's Dad's new fiancee." Sally said with disgust.
"Right." He replied, unconcerned. Sally's eyes furrowed again.
"Am I the only one who didn't know about this?" She demanded.
"Sally, now is not the time." Betty said sharply. Sally pursed her lips, and shot Peggy a glare, but kept quiet.
"I brought you some things from home." Henry said, and put his box on a chair. He pulled out a few toiletries, and a small blanket that Don recognized as one that Betty's mother had knit her. It had always been too gaudy for Betty's taste, but she had kept it around for moments where she seemed to be homesick or insecure. Don suddenly felt pangs of sadness in his chest, and felt like he was intruding on a life that was taken from him and where he wasn't wanted. As Henry fussed over his wife, Don made another exit.
Henry found Don in front of the coke machine, another cup of coffee in his hand that he wasn't drinking. He nodded at the taller man, unsmiling.
"Betty sent me out for a coke." He said, and began plopping his coins into the slot. Don pursed his lips and nodded.
"Look," the grey haired man said as the bottle rolled into the bottom of the machine. "William has refused to take the kids. To be honest, I'm not sure whether I hate the idea of you or him raising the kids more, but here we are."
"That is a glowing endorsement." Don said dryly.
"Don't fuck this up, Don." He said. "The only reason that I'm not taking the kids is because you are retired and can give them more time than I will be able to. Don't ignore them like you have for the last 16 years." Henry bent down to grab the coke, and walked away without a second glance.