"My name is Anthony."
"Hi Anthony," the room replied.
"I am six months and nine days sober."
A round of applause. For many that was a point of pride. For Anthony it was a drop in the bucket of days he had lived drunk.
"This sharing stuff is, is hard for me. I'm out of practice. I don't miss the drinking," he began. Public speaking was difficult for him under the best circumstances. This was a trial. Especially when he looked up to see the sea of skepticism and doubt in his comrades' faces. "I miss the not feeling sometimes. I miss the clink of the ice and knowing that this one thing is, is in my control. I'm a grown man, I can drink as much as I like and get piss drunk, and tune out the world, and no one can stop it. Only, it wasn't control. It was weakness."
Heads bobbed in approval and understanding. Then he said, "My rock bottom was my wedding night. Or my would-be wedding night. I hadn't been fully sober in weeks, and my love was smart enough for both of us. She bolted. Don't blame her really. She's, well she's…"
Here Anthony struggled. How could he convey to these strangers the depth and breadth of Edith's goodness and wonder?
"She's the best thing in my life," he explained, rubbing his thumb into the creases between his eyebrows. "She had been trying, I think, to fit into my life to keep me happy or accommodated. Only no one could keep me happy because I didn't even know what that meant.
"Anyway, she, um, she ran away the day of the wedding. White gown and all. And I went back to our home. My ex-wife was there. Maude had always been a friend, nothing more. I didn't know what love was until Edith. But Edith was gone, and there was scotch, and there was Maude. And I made the greatest mistake of my life. I don't even remember it, if I'm honest. Only that it happened.
"I hated myself for a long time for it. But like many of us, I think that hitting bottom was necessary. I can climb back out of that pit sober and clearer and kinder, and now I can hope to deserve my Edith."
There was a smattering of affirmations and approvals before Anthony continued.
"I'm not from around here," he interjected, earning a laugh or two from the other AA members at the meeting in that upstate New York church basement. "I came because she's here, my Edith, and I came to introduce myself to her, the new me. To try to deserve her too. I'm closer to fifty than I care to admit, but I'm still a, a work in progress," he finished, huffing and wincing at the lameness of his speech. Everyone clapped, and Anthony dropped heavily to his seat near the back. Fuckthis was hard.
After the meeting he exchanged pleasantries with a few members he had seen a few times. The program said it was important, building a support network, and it was a monumental effort for Anthony. But, as the adage goes, if you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten. He needed to make the effort, couldn't hole up and sort this out alone.
Drained, he returned to the little AirBnB he was renting, had a yogurt (which was nowhere near as satisfying as a nightcap), and went to bed. At 2am, he awoke to someone very gently breaking in. He stepped into the living room just in time for the front door to swing wide open.
"It's just me," came his Edith's voice as she fumbled in the dark with the lockbox key. Anthony had given the code to her, just in case, and apparently she finally had use for the information.
"What's wrong, is it the baby?" Anthony asked, flipping on the living room light and ushering Edith in. The cold went right through his cotton pajama pants and tee. "Jesus it's freezing out there. What are you wearing?" He took in her thin leggings, slippers, no socks and no scarf, and pale face, and his heart dropped to his stomach. "What's happened?"
Edith's eyes were huge, her hands fumbling with both her car keys and his house key. "I," she tried, lips trembling. "It's not the baby. We're fine."
Anthony exhaled deeply and pulled her into a fierce hug, tenuous boundaries be damned. "Tea," he finally said.
They sat on opposite ends of the sofa, Edith holding her mug with both hands to warm them, while Anthony waited patiently. Whatever brought her here was significant enough to forego sleep, something his Edith had never been apt to do.
"I'm sorry I woke you," she finally said.
"I'm not."
"You don't have to be so nice," she said. "I'm always so stroppy with you. You don't have to pretend."
"I'm not pretending," he said, waiting until he caught her eye so she would know he meant it. "I really am overjoyed you're here, whatever time."
"I hate getting woken up," she laughed.
"Yes. I know."
"Remember the time you tripped in the dark? You were trying so hard to come in quietly after a night on call, and you made it all the way to the bed before tripping on your own shoes, and I woke up to a shattered lamp and a shout and blood spouting from your face." They were both chuckling at the memory of Edith's confusion and Anthony's split chin.
"I remember. Though I don't know that it was spoutingnecessarily."
"Such chaos because you were so afraid of making me even the slightest bit unhappy," Edith summarized. Then her laughed died down into a sad smile.
"I'm not afraid anymore," Anthony promised.
Edith only nodded and sipped her tea.
"Are you staying for a while? Would you like to take your coat off? Are you warm enough?" Anthony asked, pulling a blanket from the back of the sofa and offering it to her.
"I'm fine," she waved at him. "I just.." She set her tea down on the coffee table, turned back to Anthony, and took a deep breath. "I just love you. So, somuch. And I was terrified I ruined us. I've been so busy punishing you for what you did, and reminding you of it, and it was mostly to avoid feeling the reality of what Idid, and I'm so, so sorry, Anthony. For leaving you at the church all alone and for pretending. I was just pretending the whole time that we were okay, and we weren't and then I leftyou, and I blamed you, and I'm sorry."
She had said it in such a rush, Anthony took a moment to make sure he'd heard her correctly. "You love me?" he confirmed.
Edith nodded before rushing into his arms. The relief of finally getting to hold her in earnest was immense. So much so, that Anthony found the words unnecessary. There was a lot of nonsense murmured in the next minutes. Apologies and forgiveness in both directions, both big and small—but it didn't matter. They weren't two people really, but two halves of one entity, and there was no telling where his blame started and hers began. It just didn't matter.
"What are we going to do?" Edith asked. When she looked into Anthony's eyes, for the first time since Maude returned, Anthony saw hisEdith—open and sincere and guileless. Really saw her.
"We move on," Anthony said simply. And then he kissed her.
After several sipping, sweet kisses, Edith pulled back. "I mean, what are we going to do? Now? Where will we live, what do you want? Do you still want to get married?"
"Do you?" Anthony asked, looking down at her fiery brown eyes, his arm draped over her shoulder.
"I don't know," she confessed, biting her lip. Anthony smiled, overjoyed at the familiarity of such a simple mannerism.
"Well then, what do you say to getting some sleep and seeing how you feel in the morning?"
She agreed. They got into bed and he put a tentative hand on her arm, seeking permission. She maneuvered herself back against him as best as she could. Her belly really was quite large. For the first time since he landed in America he was allowed to splay his hand over her, over his child. Edith fell into a deep sleep almost immediately, but he lay awake. The sky through the window was shifting from navy to cerulean when Anthony felt his child roll against his palm. Only then, in the early hours of dawn, did Anthony finally cry for everything he nearly lost.
"I have a plan," Anthony said the next morning. She was sitting at the little table in the eat-in kitchen while Anthony made toast and coffee. Edith cocked an eyebrow in anticipation. "You and I together, we were never the problem. It was our fear, our insecurities, our lack of communication."
"You havebeen in therapy," Edith teased.
"Indeed. Anyway, I believe we really have begun to overcome those obstacles for the most part. Naturally, being us, we did it in the hardest, most grueling way possible."
"I don't think we exactly have everything figured out," Edith said, tensing slightly. Anthony paused for a moment to stroke her cheek.
"Of course not, no, no. But I think we found the biggest pitfalls. It's like we're going through the fire swamp. There are three terrors. The fire spurt, we can avoid that. The lightening sand, you were clever enough to discover it."
Edith was fighting a smile and rolling her eyes. "Yeah? And what of the ROUSes?"
"I don't believe they exist," Anthony smiled, leaning in to kiss her.
"You're an idiot."
"I know," he granted. "But you see what I'm getting at, yes? We've been through the ringer, we learn from it, we won't make the same mistakes again."
"We'll make new ones."
"I can brave it if you can, love."
"Yes, alright," Edith agreed. "So what's your plan?"
"Oh. I sell that house, I leave my job, find one here. You continue your work with children's books if you like, or teach, or whatever you choose, and we live very happily ever after."
"That simple, huh?"
"That simple," Anthony confirmed.
"You don't have to bend over backwards and ignore things to keep me happy you know," she said. "You can't be afraid of making me unhappy."
"I know my girl," he sighed, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I will be honest about my thoughts, my needs. I promise."
"You've made that promise before," Edith said.
"I have, but I know how to follow through with it this time. And I'm not saying life will be easy or perfect or without its trials. But I promise I'll never disappear again," Anthony said. He looked into Edith's eyes, desperately hoping she could feel the intensity of his sincerity.
"Alright," she said after a long time. "Alright, Anthony."
They bought a little house by the sea in a small town in North Carolina, with gray cedar shake siding and blue shutters and gauzy white curtains that floated away from the windows when they were open. Anthony set up a private practice of family medicine eventually, the work slow enough that he didn't have to work every day of the week if he didn't feel like it. It took a while for his license and work visa to transfer, which gave him plenty of time at home with Edith and their baby girl.
Martha Rose was born in January. By June they were wed. It was a small ceremony, just Rosamund and Grandma Martha, Uncle Harold and his girlfriend Lisa and her son, Adam, the boy that confirmed for Edith that no man in the world would suit her but Anthony. It was at Edith and Anthony's house, wind blowing in from the sea and fluttering Edith's soft cotton dress. After they were married by a local judge, the little crew had clams and oysters and crab on the beach, and a bonfire. Martha did a toast, congratulating herself on sorting these two out. Anthony sipped ginger ale in one hand and held baby Rosie, as they'd come to call her, in the other. Eventually Edith put Rosie to bed, and the others sat around the fire in low beach chairs, talking and laughing. The sand was still warm from the day's sun even as it sank beneath the trees to the west. Edith came back outside, slipping her bare arms into a light cardigan and passing the baby monitor from one hand to the other to finish the task. Her hair, once in a tidy knot, was windswept and strands were falling loose around her face. Anthony sighed and took a deep breath.
"This is the wedding you should have had from the start," Ros said softly. Anthony looked over, having been caught watching his wife.
"Indeed," he agreed. "We got it right this time though."
"You did. And it was lovely," Ros said as Edith came to sit in the sand at Anthony's feet, joining her grandmother and uncle in their conversation.
It was lovely, Anthony thought, running his hands through Edith's hair.
Lovely. Good. Right. But not perfect, because nothing real ever is.
A/N: That's it! Sorry it took six years (!). I had a baby and got my heartbroken and didn't write for literally four years. Now my Andith love seems like a lifetime ago. Took me a while to tap back into it. Hope it didn't fizzle to much for you guys, I just wanted the Edith and Anthony in this story to be more human than the others I've written. Probably because my romantic self grew up and is a little more weathered and jaded now too.
All my best.
Eleanor C.