"T-This is awkward," Kenna mumbles, placing the tray of drinks onto the coffee table and wiping her hands on the back of her thighs. "I'm just going to leave you all to it..."
She looks at Mary, silently asking for her to come with her but Mary shakes her head, gesturing to Francis and Bash who are being studied intently by their father and his wife.
"This is nice," Catherine says politely as she watches Jean snuggle into Mary's side even more. "And what do you do?"
Bash keeps silent, his eyes meeting Francis's apologetic ones. After a while, he sighs heavily and raises his brows. He should have seen this coming, he couldn't avoid them forever.
"Jean," Francis says softly. "Why don't you go and join Kenna upstairs?"
"I want to stay with Maman," Jean says, tightening his grip on Mary.
"Jean... We need to have a little talk," Mary starts softly. "Just the adults, sweetie but I promise I'll come up and check on you."
Jean frowns. "Are you leaving me again?"
"No!" Mary says, cupping his cheek. "I'm going to stay right here."
"Then I'm staying," Jean says firmly.
"You can," Mary tells him, making him smile. "But not right now. Again, us adults need a quick chat about something important and then I'll come up to see you."
Francis nods when Jean turns to him for confirmation. "See you in a bit, bud."
Finally, the boy leaves the room and Mary sighs in relief, her hand being squeezed by Francis's hand in relief and gratefulness of her convincing his stubborn son.
"I'd like to refer to an earlier statement," Henry begins. "This is awkward."
And it was. Truly.
...
"Why does my grandson call you his mother?" Catherine asks after they've taken refuge in the kitchen, deciding that the men could handle the situation without their input.
Mary wrings the cup out, placing it on the dish tray. "His real mother abandoned him. I opened him up, I fixed his relationship with Francis and I... I love him."
Her eyes widen in surprise and she blushes, moving onto the next dish as Catherine raises her brows in shock. Then she feels Catherine's hand on her shoulder and her head turns to meet her blue eyes.
"You're so grown up, now," Catherine says in slight wonder. "Little Mary Stuart. You ruled our house when you stayed. The girls would try and catch up with you and Francis would just stare lovingly. You were little, what did you guys know about love?"
"I'm glad I found him again," Mary says, turning her attention back to the dishes. "After all I've been through, it's refreshing."
Catherine furrows her brows and crosses her arms. "What have you been through?"
Mary stills. "Nothing," she mumbles, turning the tap off and grabbing a kitchen towel. "Just bad relationships."
"I thought your mother would be on that, sourcing out the best for her daughter," Catherine replies, confused.
"My mother," Mary starts, wiping a dish dry. "Does not get to pick and choose for me. I make my own decisions and if I need her, she's there."
"Does she not care for your future?"
Mary turns to Catherine. "Do you not care about Francis's?"
"Well-"
"Happiness, Catherine. It doesn't happen for everyone so when we have that, shouldn't we hold onto it with every fibre of our being?" Mary asks gently. "I know you and Henry were arranged but times have changed from your generation. Our generation is allowed to make mistakes, learn from them and do better. You can't micromanage everything down to who will parent our shared kids."
Catherine swallows hard, sighing. "I just want the best."
"For who? Francis or you and Henry?" Mary asks, mentally cursing.
"Francis, of course!"
"And not the oil links you would have got from Olivia's family?"
Catherine turns to Mary in surprise before waving her hand dismissively. "It doesn't even matter anymore. He's in love with you."
"I love him too," Mary tells her. "I will do anything to make him happy. And Jean. I don't want our relationship to be a damn benefit to you, Henry or my mother."
"And does she? Know about your relationship?"
Mary shrugs. "We're seeing her at Christmas."
"No, then," Catherine states.
Mary lets out a heavy sigh and starts putting the dried dishes away. "My mother's happy for me. She wants the best for me and if I think Francis is the best for me, she will accept that with no arguments. That's why I can tell her anything because she's not like you who dictates and doesn't seek confirmation before making a decision on someone else's life."
"Right," Catherine whispers before her eyes avert into the direction of where Bash, Francis and Henry are now outside talking.
"I'm sorry-"
"No, you always did speak your mind. Such a fireball, you were when you were five," Catherine says, slightly impressed. "Good luck, Mary. Sometimes mothers are scared to let their sons go. But I know he's in good hands. Take good care of him and Jean."
Mary smiles, nodding. "I will. I promise you."
"Then that's okay with me," Catherine replies, leaving her side.
...
"You should, uh, come over for Christmas," Henry says as he, Catherine and Francis get ready to leave.
Bash shakes his head. "My fiancée's family have invited me to Scotland for the first time so..."
"Right, of course," Henry says, briefly looking at Kenna's way. "New Year, then?"
"We'll see," Bash mumbles, feeling Kenna's arm around his waist. "Thanks for stopping by..."
Francis smiles wryly, mouthing a quick, "Sorry," before he gives him a brief hug and steps back, turning to Jean. "Are you sure you want to stay?"
Jean nods. "Kenna found my pyjamas! I knew I forgot to pack them."
Francis scoffs, shaking his head in amusement. "You totally purposefully did that, didn't you?"
Jean smiles, turning to Mary. "I don't know what he means."
Francis narrows his eyes, looking at Mary too. "You and I both know he understands more than he lets on. The cheek."
"Goodnight, Papa, Pepe and Meme," Jean says, hugging them tightly before returning to Mary's side, her arm going over his shoulders.
"Goodnight, chou-chou," Catherine says before pulling Francis out. "Now, we will get the lawyers on the phone and stop this putain from taking Jean-Philippe from us..."
Henry nods once, waves once and leaves, Kenna finally closing the front door and sighing in relief against it.
"I'm never doing that again," she says.
Mary laughs, running her fingers through Jean's hair, her eyes meeting Bash's. "So, how was that?"
"It's a start," Bash says, shrugging. "Excuse me."
He heads upstairs and Kenna's hand brushes past Mary's as she follows after Bash. Mary looks down at Jean and cups his cheeks.
"You're so cheeky, you know that?"
Jean frowns a little. "Why did you go?"
"I wanted you to spend some time with your real mum, get to know her," Mary replies. "That doesn't mean I'd ever leave you though."
"I don't like her," Jean says, his voice breaking. "I thought I would. I wanted to, I promise. But she doesn't feel like..."
Mary nods. "I understand," she says softly. "It will take a while but you'll hopefully get along. Two mums aren't so bad."
"I guess," Jean mutters. "Can I sleep in your bed? With a story?"
"Sure," Mary says, pressing a kiss on the top of his head. "Come on, sweetie. Bedtime."
More sweet Mary/Jean moments and Catherine starts to accept Mary. Next chapter, we'll see Mary, Francis and Jean back at home.