Hello! Sorry for the delay. Work has been horrendous over the past few weeks. My days have been long and I've not had a great deal of free time to actually get anything written. I made a goal to get it completed this weekend, and I'm glad that I came through in the end. I hope you're all keeping well :) I hope you enjoy it! It's quite a long one.

Tom climbed out of the car and straightened himself out, pulling his jacket downwards to flatten any creases that had amassed during his drive down. The weather was very pleasant, and it had been the first time in a few months that he had ventured outside without his heavy overcoat. There was a tepid warmth in the breeze that brought about the reminiscence of summer, peeping out from behind the cold barrier of winter that was keeping it momentarily at bay. People spent a bit more time outside now, going for walks through the hills, around the village and they seemed much chirpier. It was nice, because sometimes as it had in Ireland, the winter months seemed to drag on longer than any other season. Summer itself was like a camera flash, you see it, sometimes feel it, but in the blink of an eye, it's gone. Tom didn't complain though, really, because when it got too hot he would much rather be in the shade, his pale Irish complexion making the sunlight difficult. When it did get hot he often found going for a drive, the wind flowing over his hot body, cooled him down when he needed it most. In times like that he would often volunteer to go out and run errands. Today was one of those days, without that summer heat, where he had volunteered to pop down to the village to pick something up. As he was down there he was going to go and check in on Mary, having not been able to get down to see her since she was taken there. Well, he had suggested almost straight away that he would like to see her but Cora and Robert had said to wait for a while until she was a bit better. Tom knew himself just how painful it was, so thought it would have been nice to have someone that was able to follow her train of thought a little closer, to know that she wasn't alone.

There wasn't much of a queue in the post office, so it didn't take long for him to get the items that he had to collect. If he had thought about his order of things, it would probably have been better to go get them after his visit so he could go straight home with them, rather than carrying them around. It didn't matter greatly though, so he tucked them under his arm and made his way towards the hospital, stopping to say hello to a few of the villagers as he did. It had taken a while, but people greeted him and respected him more now, but it was still taking a little getting used to.

When he entered the hospital, the parcels boring into his underarm, he was pointed in the right direction by a middle-aged nurse who offered to help with the load. Tom could manage well enough so he climbed the stairs and made his way along the corridor. Tom never did like how hospitals smelled, the thick acidic odour of antiseptic always seemed to burn his nose. No matter how often he entered one, there was always an eerie feeling in the air that made him feel a bit on edge. Hospitals bought with them life and death, and it was that notion, he assumed, that made them uncomfortable to be in.

When he walked into the room, he tried with all of his might to remain as upbeat as he could. It was difficult to force, but he plastered a wide smile over his face to try and give some sort of illusion that the world was somewhere good to be. Of course, he knew he didn't really need to, because Mary wasn't stupid, and would likely see right through it. It was important to try and be some sort of positive influence, and so this seemed to be the first way to start it. When he caught sight of her he was pleasantly surprised to find her sat by the window, the sun covering her as it shone through the window. In her hand was a book, that she had clearly been reading for a relatively decent amount of time because she was well over halfway through the hardback. It had dawned on him that he had almost anticipated her to be in bed, a morose expression on her face and in a state of wallow. That was how she had been the last time he had seen her, the spirit that had driven her for so long had dwindled into nothing. The depression had been strong, the guilt raging around her with force, and all her energy sapped by the grief. This state was good.

"Mary!" he called out, placing the parcels onto the table near the doorway. "I was just in the village and thought I would come and see how you were doing."

Mary had been reading solidly for at least three hours, the book had drawn her right into its pages. The story was riveting, and had taken her by complete surprise. Initially the story was nothing special, but it had taken the time away from her when she got involved with it. Then, suddenly, she had found herself completely invested in the characters and where the story was going. It had been nice to absorb herself in something outside of her little world. Even going outside of the hospital was still a part of her own little story, so this was something completely apart from that. Closing the book, she got to her feet and smiled. It was lovely to see her friend and brother-in-law. "Oh, Tom, how lovely!"

Tom gripped a nearby chair in his hands and carried it with him, placing it directly in front of her. "I'm sorry I've not been down to see you yet. I've been busy with your Father, and they thought it best that we give you some time before flooding you with our presence." Tom smirked, before taking his jacket off and folding it into his lap. "I thought it would have been nice for you to have a friendly face days ago, but I respected their wishes. It was a lovely day out and I had to pop in to pick some parcels up," he said, motioning to the pile on the table. "I thought today would be a good day to say hello. We could go for a walk in the garden if you'd like? Get you out for a bit? You must be bored of being inside the same four walls."

Mary placed the book onto the nearby window ledge and sat back down. "Oh, it's quite OK. I'm happy to stay inside today if I'm honest. I did go out into the garden yesterday but I'm feeling a little lethargic having been awake on and off all night. I fear my rhythm is quite adrift to its normal routine. Anyway, Tom, I'm very glad to see you! You would have been more than welcome to come down sooner, if you had wished to. I know my parents meant well, but I am more than capable of making my mind," she sniffed, feeling a little put out by her parent's decisions. "I know they meant well, and I suppose in a way they have every right to considering my actions. I had wondered why it had only been a select few that had been down. I would have liked to have a say at least." Mary paused and shook her head. "I have to say it has been nice to be away from home but I have always got time for you, Tom."

Tom could feel the warmth from the sun as it shone through the glass and onto him, understanding why Mary had placed herself by the window. Mary had always been kind to him, and out of everyone, it always seemed like she was the one that fought in his corner the most since Sybil passed. Tom knew that he would never fit in completely because there was so much inside of him that fought against the very life that he was now living. The love of his life had saved him from so much, but now he faced this alien terrain without her. The spirit within him naturally gravitated to his previous life, and this made him feel like he would never accept his current life as his own because he was not born into it.

Tom had always found that Mary had a similar way of thinking to him, and she took stock in the things that he had to say. He wasn't just an ex-chauffeur to her. If there was ever a time where things were being said that required intervention, she would stand up for him when things turned a little sour. Tom had a lot of time for his sister-in-law. Sybil had always spoken highly of her, as she did of so many, and she used to tell him to ignore the barrier that Mary hid behind. Inside her, she was very loving and protective, and he had seen that now and witnessed it for himself. It made him sad that Sybil wasn't present, because he knew that she would have worked wonders with Mary in this current situation. Sybil was kind, intuitive, balanced and pure; qualities so few people possessed any more. If she had had to move into Mary's room until she was better, there would not have been a single shred of hesitation. Without Sybil, Carson had been the next best thing, and he had tried that avenue. From what he had gathered, their interaction had been quite abrupt and brutal; Mary throwing her weight into the mix. Everyone knew that Carson only wanted what was best for her like a Father did, and so he had taken it quite badly when the conversation had gone so harsh. There had been a sadness in his eyes for many days afterwards, and Tom had felt guilty that he had put him through that.

Tom fiddled with the lapel on his jacket, watching as Mary took a glance to the window before bringing herself back to the room. When their eyes met she smiled, distance still sitting in her gaze. The pain was still visible for everyone to see, and he knew more than any that it would never truly go away. The twinkle in her eyes, that he had grown to know as the fire that kept her moving forward, was almost absent now. It was not gone though, not completely. Tom knew what it felt like to lose the love of his life, to feel the excruciating agony of having her ripped from his world like a page from a book. Sybil was the part of him that he would never get back. There seemed to be a bit more about Mary now. In comparison to when he had last seen her, she seemed better, not by huge lengths but it was a start.

"How are you doing? Really?" Tom queried, knowing it was a silly question. There was no point beating around the bush though.

Mary sighed and turned her attention to the bracelet on her wrist, twisting at it gently between her fingers. Since she had been kindly gifted the bracelet, she had found herself touching it more often than not. It was like a physical reminder of the love and generosity that Matthew had possessed. "I feel like I've been asked that question a lot," she grimaced. "I don't ever feel like the answer is ever enough when I give it. It's not something that's easily explained."

Tom nodded his head in agreement, feeling a pang of guilt and regret. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it then that's fine. We can talk about whatever you want!"

"Oh, come now, Tom. Don't be silly. I know you're just being kind. It's fine. You're just worried as a friend should be, and I appreciate that. Truly." Mary fidgeted slightly in her seat before releasing the bracelet from her grasp and returning her gaze to Tom. If there was anyone who really did understand her, it would be him. "I feel like I have a bit more...direction? I'm not free of it, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's still there trying to drag me down, holding onto me like a vice and preventing me from coming up for air. I hate feeling this way, but what I hate more than anything, Tom, is that I never want to be free of him. I never want to forget him. If I must be without him, and as painful as it feels, I never want him to go from in here." Mary lifted her hand and pressed it against her chest. "I hate feeling this way, Tom. I hate it more than anything."

Tom could feel his hands tense against each other as he thought about the way he had felt when Sybil had passed. There had been so much time spent agonising over how terrified he was about moving forward and away from her. It all resonated with him so strongly that he didn't quite know how to displace the small ball of sadness that had appeared within him. When Sybil had died he had been completely consumed by the grief. It was in his mind and it was in his heart. Every single breath and heartbeat was filled with the loss for her, and for a long period of time, he never thought he would be able to climb out of the hole he lay in. It had been a daily battle that he had fought pretty much on his own. "I'd like to tell you that it gets better and it gets easier. In some respects it does. You can bring yourself above the mist long enough to take a breath, and then slowly it becomes two breaths. There is no time limit on this, Mary, so please don't berate yourself for not feeling better so soon. Grief is like a shadow. If you look at the world around you, you'll see them everywhere. Some days the shadows are darker, and others they aren't. You will never forget him. You will never not love him. Matthew is there in you, and he always will be."

Mary stared at him with sympathetic eyes, hearing the words with a newfound appreciation. If she had heard all of this before Matthew had died, she would not have understood as strongly as she did now. Tom had been through all of this when their darling Sybil had been taken. Tom's whole world had been plucked from him in the blink of an eye. Mary felt incredibly disappointed in herself and by her actions when Tom had been going through this. What she knew was that she had not been there for him, and by how she felt, she had no idea how he had coped at all on his own. "I'm so sorry, Tom," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "This must bring back that horrible time in your life."

Tom smiled. "It's fine, Mary. I just want you to know that I understand what it is that you're going through. The crippling pain and sadness that feeds your waking moments like a poison. I tried to push it away but it's like trying to move a fifty-tonne boulder with your bare hands. Sybil was my world, and I would give anything to have her back here with us now. I know people thought that she was too good for me, and God knows they're probably right, but we were happy. I loved her with everything. You knew your sister and you know she had the purest heart and the warmest ways about her. Sybil gave her everything in all that she did." Tom could feel his heart burn with pride at the thought of his wife and just how amazing she was. "Sybil gave me the will to move on. Not only was she beautiful and kind, she also refused to give up on anything that she loved or cared for. God, she was stubborn," he grinned, knowing that her love for him was one of the most stubborn acts of them all. "I could not give up because Sybil would not have given up."

Mary thought back to her sister and her wonderful ways. A light chuckle escaped her lips. "Yes, she was stubborn. I still remember Papa's rage when it all kicked off with you."

Tom felt quite pleased with himself for getting Mary to chuckle, even though it was only slight. The fondness in her eyes evaporated quickly, and he knew that she had gone back to thinking of Matthew. "You are strong, Mary. You have that Crawley core of iron in there. It's the same core that has kept the Dowager steadfast in her ways for all of these years. It's the same core that now has me as your brother-in-law! What I think will help, and don't place this against me or see me as interfering, is George. Little Sybbie was my saviour. When I looked at her I could see Sybil looking back at me, and I knew I had to protect her and keep her safe. I couldn't leave that to anyone else. I had to do it. That child holds the same radiating energy as her Mother, and I need to do everything in my power to give her everything Sybil ever wanted. I knew I wasn't keeping myself alive for me. I was doing it for Sybbie and Sybil. I have days, more than I care to admit, where I struggle to shake it. So I go and see little Sybbie and she soothes my heart and grounds me."

Mary's eyes welled up as she felt the words sting at her already beaten heart. "How wonderfully poignant, Tom. It seems that you and Carson have both tried to point me onto similar paths."

"Well, Carson only wants what's best for you. It's what we all want."

Mary sighed sadly. "I know, Tom. I know. I am now more aware of how hard it must have been for you like it is for me at the moment." Mary could see the sadness bouncing back at her, it was a look she hadn't been able to pinpoint before now. There were so many similarities between them both, so many parallels that she hadn't taken much notice of before. This lead her to thinking about the ultimate question, the one that would see if their parallels had lead to the same path without her noticing before. "Tom?"

Tom nodded.

"Did you..." Mary exhaled, trying to think about how to phrase the question. "Did you ever want it to end? To really end?"

To anyone else that might be listening nearby, they would potentially be confused by the question. Tom knew exactly what she meant. Tom knew exactly what she meant, and he couldn't lie to her. There had been many moments where he had wished with all his might for the pain to stop. There had been other moments, the darker ones, when he had contemplated a way to actually make it stop. "I did. I thought about it more than I care to admit. I drank a lot. I isolated myself and pushed myself further away from the people that could help me. You all reminded me of her, because although you may not know it, you have similarities. That, and she did love you all. Moving away from you was one of the hardest things she could possibly have ever done, and she did that for me. This world is not for me, Mary, and I will never really connect with this life. When Sybil was taken I felt even more alienated from you all because she was not there to back me up and guide me through this aristocratic circus show. I felt like this life meant being in a constant parade and hiding behind a façade of dinners and tea parties. I was breaking on the inside, but we were all still sitting down for dinner in the evening. It didn't make sense to me. The long and short of it was, yes, I did want it to end. I thought about ways, I let the poison overtake my thoughts and was going to drink myself into a stupor and finish it."

"But you didn't, Tom, and thankfully you're still here to navigate through the obstacles in our path." Mary felt a lot closer to Tom now because it was as if the loss was a similarity between them that she hadn't realised properly before now. "What made it better for you?"

"People made it better, Mary. You must accept the help that people want to offer you because if we can't rely on ourselves to do it, it's other people that can help us out. You will walk through your life and be in a constant state of reminder of what it was that was taken from you. You will see it in the smallest and most insignificant things. It'll baffle you and upset you that you can relate the smallest of unconnected things to him. It'll be in the air around you, the carpet under your feet or the direction of the wind. What's important is that you remember that we are here to help you. I know you know that too, Mary. I also know that when you're head is in a certain place it's impossible to see through the fog and to reach out to the people who want to help you. I want you to know that I will give you whatever support you need. You are Sybil's sister, and you are also my friend."

Mary could feel herself getting emotional as she traversed through the various thoughts and feelings circulating within her body. There was an ounce of happiness at the fact that Tom had reached out to her like he had, but there was also the sadness associated with the thoughts that got them there. They had lost Sybil and Matthew to this cruel and unforgiving world. "Thank you, Tom." Mary paused and swallowed hard, thinking back to the time when Sybil had been taken and how she hadn't noticed that he had been in dire need of some friendship and support. "I have been frightfully stupid, I fear, and I know now more than ever that I have been a terrible friend to you. All those months I could see that you were in pain, but I didn't reach out to offer the support as you have done to me. I understand it now. I understand it painfully, the horror and sadness that you went through. I'm naturally selfish, Tom, and it's a habit I don't think I'll ever truly shake. I know I should have done more for you. I can't believe I let you go through this agony alone. I'm horrified. Will you forgive me?"

"Please, Mary, don't think about that. There is nothing at all to forgive. I did an excellent job of keeping myself out of everyone's way. You weren't to know, how could you? You were all dealing with grief at the exact same time, and it's amazing as to what forms that it can take. I think they call it, tunnel vision. I just want you to know that I can sympathise and help you if you ask for it. I didn't speak to many people, because it was hard, but I wasn't completely alone. Mrs Hughes did a lot of things in the background that you're probably not aware of. It was obvious I wasn't eating much, so every night when you were all in bed she would make sure that food was sent up for me. Easy things to eat. At first, I didn't bother, because I wasn't hungry, but her persistence paid off. She was good to me."

"That's good to hear. It appears friendship doesn't stop like you would expect when there is a change of social class. I suppose it's like me and Carson. We are friends and yet he serves the household." Mary's brain had started ticking through some ideas in her head. It was obvious that there was much more to Mrs Hughes than her role, and it was silly of her to assume otherwise. There was certainly something more to the woman. Perhaps Tom knew if Carson's relationship with her was something other than people that run a home. "I'm hearing more about Mrs Hughes as the days go by."

"Mrs Hughes is a good woman, Mary, once you get to know her. Not only is she kind, but she's fair and understands a lot because of her life. You just have to get through the thick outer layer, a bit like yourself." Tom smirked. There weren't many people who had helped him as much as she had, and he appreciated the friendship that they had.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied wryly, adjusting herself in her seat. "I suppose I've never interacted with her a great deal over the years. I always thought she didn't like me. I don't think you're the only one that thinks so positively of her though."

"What do you mean?" Tom queried, finding the last part a little unusual that the conversation had focused on Mrs Hughes of all people. "I don't know that Mrs Hughes doesn't like you if that's any consolation. I think that perhaps she doesn't understand you."

Mary nodded. Their conversation had been so serious before, it seemed trivial and off-key to try and talk about the interactions of Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson off of the back of it. The idea intrigued her so much though. If there was something in this world that could make Carson happy, for all that he has done for her, then she wanted to know. "Forgive me for going off on a tangent, Tom, but I've been wondering about this for a few days. I certainly think there is more to Mrs Hughes than I first thought."

"Well, this sounds rather cryptic if I'm honest." Tom scrunched his eyebrows together as he tried to figure out what it was that Mary was getting at. It was true that they didn't talk often, and rarely came into contact with each other, so it made no sense as to why she would be the topic of conversation.

"I'm sorry." Mary paused and wondered if she should ask. After all, Tom used to interact with them all in a different way than Mary ever could. Although he transcended between the role of chauffeur to brother-in-law, he still had knowledge in what it was that could be between her darling Carson and Mrs Hughes. "Can you help me find logic in my thoughts, Tom? And keep this to yourself?"

"Of course! I came here to tell you that you can always talk to me."

"It's not about me, Tom," she confirmed, turning her head to the window as she tried to place her thoughts into a logical order. "When you worked downstairs- and forgive me for bringing it up- did you ever notice if Carson and Mrs Hughes were closer than your average pair that work together?"

"Well, they are good friends," he hesitated as he sized up her words in more detail. "They have worked together for many years and I'd say they were very good friends."

Mary nodded. "I understand that. I don't mean as friends though, Tom," she paused and raised her eyebrows to try and force the point into his mind. "Oh, I don't think I could have this conversation with anyone else without sounding silly. I might be able to with Anna, but I don't know if she would want to be open about it. It's just..."

Tom leant forward in his chair and put his hands between his knees. "The anticipation is getting to me, Mary. What is it you're trying to say."

Mar cleared her throat and looked over Tom's shoulder to make sure that there wasn't anyone floating around outside the corridor. The people that worked in the hospital all knew Carson, and they all held him in high regard, so she didn't want to create gossip. The family knew how quickly gossip made its way around the village if it was ever released or created. "When Carson was waking up," she said through hushed tones. "He called out Mrs Hughes' first name. It took me a minute to even realise it was her. I'm not used to hearing it. Anyway," she paused, her eyes growing wider. "He called out Elsie."

Tom looked puzzled. This didn't seem like something that required the hushed tones. "They're good friends and spend an awful lot of time together. They're like the closest thing that each of them has to family, I suppose."

"You do know that Mrs Hughes has been coming down to be by his bedside almost every single evening. I know friends can be close, but she has been working all day and spending her evenings here with hardly any rest. I think that seems like they're very *close*." Mary began to get frustrated about the fact that he wasn't getting her point. It had her wondering whether she was looking too far into it herself, but then she dismissed the idea because she knew what she had seen.

Tom laughed. "Friends care for each other. She probably doesn't want him being alone."

Mary let out a sigh, folding her arms across her waist. This was painstaking. At this rate, she was just going to have to come out and say it, which was what she didn't want to do. "When Carson was unconscious, I had an encounter with Mrs Hughes. I know she is angry with me, and I fully accept that. I left her to spend time with him, but I have to say that I felt a little curious about something. So, I held back and peered back into the room. I admit it, I spied on her. Anyway, she bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. I was very shocked!" Mary waited for a reaction out of Tom, who just continued to stare at her, his expression unfaltering. "I think they care for each other more than we think." Mary waited again, and Tom blinked as he titled his head to the side. "Like you did for Sybil."

Tom's eyes grew wide and he leant back into his chair, the penny dropping to the floor. "Really? You mean they *care* for each other? You really think so?"

"Tom, I've been trying to tell you that for the past few minutes. They have to! Carson called out for her. Mrs Hughes has been essentially burning the candle at both ends to make sure that he wasn't alone, and the kiss on the cheek! I was hoping you might agree with the logic, or help me see some sort of sense in what I'm thinking. You spent time with them downstairs, so assumed you might have some sort of insight into my thinking."

Tom looked up at the ceiling as he tried to piece his thoughts together. Could they? Really? "It's never been mentioned-"

"Well, why would it? Considering their positions within the house would you expect them to be so open about it? Would it be proper? If I'm honest, I want more than anything for Carson to just be happy. I'm not sure what Papa would think. I just wondered if it was something that you had noticed. It'll be the little things that people would likely not notice unless you were really looking for them."

"Truth be told, I don't recall anything. They obviously talk a lot, spend their evenings talking each night but nothing I've ever noticed. What a bizarre thought. Not something I thought I would be thinking about after my visit. I thought perhaps we would just talk about what's going on at the Abbey or about how you were doing." Tom shook his head in bewilderment.

"It surprised me, Tom, to think such thoughts," Mary smirked ever so slightly. "I assume everything is going on as usual at home? Or has Edith grown horns and wings and floated off to a distant land?"

Tom chuckled. "No. She has been frightfully preoccupied recently with something. I take it she hasn't been one of your select visitors?"

"If I were at death's door, I think she would only come up here if Mama made her," Mary insisted. "You know we aren't close, Tom."

Tom shook his head. "I don't think you give your sister much credit, Mary. There's a goodness in her somewhere."

Mary shook her head. "Credit is earned, Tom. I know my sister. Sybil was the kind one. I'm the stubborn head-strong Crawley sister. Edith is just Edith," she scoffed.

The pair of them sat in momentary silence. Tom was now going through his mind to think about whether Mary was onto something in regard to Carson and Mrs Hughes. If he thought about it there was the odd little notion he had witnessed between them, but he had thought that it was just because they were friends. Maybe Mary was right? What if they were closer than they had all anticipated? Time would tell, no doubt, especially now Mary had it in her mind that she needed to find out. Tom didn't think that it was for her own benefit because she had mentioned that she had just wanted Carson to be happy.

Time was getting on, and it had left him feeling positive that they had been able to talk as they had done. When he thought about what he assumed was going to happen, Mary in a depressed state and wallowing, the opposite seemed to be the case. She was struggling, of course she was, but she was lucid and he had gotten more out of her than he had witnessed in a long while. It was a good place to be in. It also dawned on him that potentially this conversation had lifted her a little, especially to know that she wasn't alone in her grief and that he had experienced it for himself. Whether she took it on board enough to come to him if she needed it was the biggest question, but he thought that she might.

"Well, I better make a move. I'll keep my ears to the ground about what we spoke about." Tom stood and slid his arm into his jacket. "We will all be very happy when you come home again, Mary. Very happy. Just remember what I said. This is going to be hard, and I'm not going to lie to you, it'll be hard for a while. You'll get there though, we'll make sure of it. You are not alone."

Mary knew that he meant every single word. It was good to have someone on her side that understood, to the letter, what it was she was going through. "I'm going to do this, Tom. I'm going to do this for Matthew and for George. I really appreciate the time you took to come and see me." Mary got up to her feet and walked over to her bed, sticking her hand under the pillow and pulling out her pile of letters. It had occurred to her the night before that, in terms of her parents, it might be easier to express her feelings by giving them the letters. When they next visited she was going to hand them over, because she knew that they wanted to talk to her about what had happened. The look in her Mama's eyes was enough to know that there were many unanswered questions. The letters would mean that there would be an explanation without the probable fight that went with it. Tom being here was the perfect thing, because he could hand them over without her being there. Was it cowardly? Slightly. Did she think that it was the best way considering her Papa's temper sometimes? Yes. "Could you do me a favour, Tom?"

Tom did his jacket up. "Of course."

"I wrote these before all this happened. Could you give them to my parents?" Mary walked over and handed him the two letters. "There is one for you too, but, I feel that we have an understanding enough between us and I don't need to give it to you. You understand this grief, and the decision I made more than anyone I know now. It basically said that I appreciate you as a brother-in-law and friend, and that Sybil followed her heart to something great." Mary paused and placed her hand gently on his arm. "I'm very glad we are friends, Tom. I really appreciate you coming here and trying to help me. I really do."

Tom smiled and tucked the letters into his pocket. "We are a force to be reckoned with Mary. I don't know how I would stand up against the world if I didn't have your help." Nodding, he placed his hand on top of hers and smiled. "You get better. I'm only a phone call away."

Mary smiled and watched as Tom walked to the table and lifted the boxes under his arm. "Thank you, Tom."