In – Laws

After the unresolved argument about the IRA and Detective Smyth, Sybil once again seriously considered applying for more nursing jobs. It was true that cooking and cleaning her and Tom's flat took her a bit longer than she'd expected, as well as all the errands she must perform. But certainly, she could find time for her dream of being a nurse in Ireland.

Sybil walked back to the flat, her arms full of groceries. As she did so, she noticed many others walking or biking. Some of the older people appeared worn, their faces desperately needing care. And younger ones still required nurses, too, when she thought of the little boy she'd nursed with Spanish Flu.

She longed to comfort the ill and injured by washing them and encouraging them again. She wished to bandage wounds and take temperatures. And if Tom refused to listen to Sybil about her concerns with the IRA, then she no longer had to listen to him about nursing, either.

After putting the groceries away, she paused, feeling a bit guilty. Although she was stubborn, spiteful behavior wasn't usually her style; it was far more Mary's approach than Sybil's. She remembered a few times her oldest sister hurt herself and everyone around her with her actions.

Then Sybil shook her head, her braid flapping about, as she no longer bothered with pinning it. This was different. She had to make a life for herself in Ireland if Tom wasn't going to support her.

Sybil left the flat again. There were a couple of other hospitals which she could still apply in Dublin. She was surprised by the loud noise the door made as she shut it. She must have been more cross than she first thought.

OOOOOOOOOO

Once again, the hospital refused to hire Sybil, even with her reference from Mrs. Branson. Sybil wasn't certain it was because of her accent or her married name. But it only caused her to become more cross.

It was ironic; for all Sybil's temper, she usually let her anger go easily. But this time it was Tom who attempted to smile at her, while she turned away. He complimented her on her dinners and the bread that she cooked for him, and she would snap at him. Sybil didn't like feeling this cross; it wasn't her. But she didn't know how to let it go if Tom wouldn't listen to her worries about Ireland and the IRA.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sitting in the pew next to Tom felt tense again, just as it had a couple of weeks ago, and once again Tom's Mam noticed, shaking her head and giving them disappointed looks.

But other than that, Sybil felt quite comfortable among Tom's relatives in the Catholic Church. The organ music was soothing, and little Jimmy was adorable as he babbled along with the strange Latin sounds. Sometimes Sybil wondered… But naturally, she would never do that. She would always be Anglican.

"Jimmy's birthday is in two weeks, and I hope you will all come," Sheena said, interrupting Sybils wandering thoughts. "You are getting to be such a big boy, aren't you?" she said to her son as she adjusted him back into her arms.

"I cannot believe he's going to be a whole year old!" Tom's mother said, leaning over to tickle her grandson's chin. Jimmy giggled in response. "I"ll bring oatmeal cookies to the party, naturally," she said to Sheena, reminding everyone what was apparently her signature party treat.

Sybil smiled, feeling lighter as she watched the happy moments. "We will definitely be there Sheena, right Tom?" She finally dared to smile at her husband.

"Definitely," Tom said, meeting her smile before turning to his sister. "I promised when we arrived in Ireland we'd be there for his birthday, and we will be." Excited chatter buzzed in Sybil's ear as the family continued to discuss young Jimmy's birthday and party. But she kept playing Tom's smile over and over in her head as they all exited St. Paul's.

Was he finally ready to listen to her? Truly listen? About what was important?

"I thought I knocked some sense into both of you by allowing Sybil to attend 'Peace Day' with Sheena and Nolan but I guess not," Mrs. Branson's voice said from behind.

She and Tom immediately turned to see Eileen Branson standing between them with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. All the other parishioners leaving the church, and the rest of Dublin faded as Sybil stared back at her mother – in – law. She reminded Sybil of one of the scary governesses when she and her sisters had been caught misbehaving. It made her feel small and guilty.

Reminding herself she'd done nothing wrong, Sybil sighed. "I hoped so, too," she said honestly, remembering how relieved she was when they'd resolved their argument about Peace Day… And then some. But this argument wasn't that easy.

"Mam, I appreciate you want to help, but Sybil and I are both adults," Tom said with a sigh.

Mrs. Branson shook her head, her hands still on her hips. "Well, neither of you are acting like it, Tommy. You're acting like you could barely stand to touch each other in church. The Lord wants peace in his House, you know."

"I know, Mam, and I'm trying but – " Tom said with a sigh.

But to Sybil's extreme surprise, Mrs. Branson cut off her son. "But nothing," said firmly. "You know I wasn't happy with your engagement. I didn't think you were right for each other. I had hoped you would change your mind at the last moment." She turned from Tom to Sybil and back to Tom as she spoke.

Sybil felt herself grimace at the woman's words. No matter how cross she was at Tom right now, she still didn't appreciate his mother dismissing their marriage again. "We are right for each other," she said firmly.

Mrs. Branson's expression didn't change as she continued speaking. "But now that you are married, I don't want it to fail, and neither does the Lord. But for that to happen, you need to put effort into your marriage. I know you are both capable of that; Tommy you're you have always been my smartest and the most eager to work of all my children, and Sybil you've impressed me with your desire to learn how to keep house."

Sybil stopped, letting the compliment wash over her from this woman. It made her feel tall and warm. And she knew her Tom was a hard worker, too. Every time she visited the garage at Downton, he was fixing one of the motors or polishing the cars. Today, he put so much effort into all the articles he wrote, she could see it in every piece he allowed her to read.

"We will," they both said at the same time.

"And our marriage won't fail, Mam," Tom said firmly. "I wish you would start believing in us."

Mrs. Branson sighed. "Do you know after my little Jimmy died, your Da and I didn't speak to each other for almost a year?" she asked, her voice biting with the pain of her words.

"No, Mam, I didn't know that" Tom said, much softer this time. "I guess I can't remember those days very clearly."

Sybil struggled to think how she would handle the loss of a sweet baby boy, just like her nephew, and her husband's support and comfort at the same time. She imagined the pain would be like drowning in an ocean with no hope of being rescued. She looked at her mother – in – law with new respect, that she was able to live through such an experience.

"I didn't think you would, Tommy," Mrs. Branson said softly, a bit tearfully. "You were so young when… it happened. And your Da and I tried to shield you and the rest of the children from the worst of it. At the time, we thought it was for the best. But now…" She blinked and sighed. "Jim and I loved each other when we married. So much. And we were both from good Irish Catholic families. But we still came so close to losing everything in our marriage because of something we couldn't control."

There was a pause, and the three of them walked in silence. Sybil reflected over the words, trying to decide what Mrs. Branson was saying.

Disrupting Sybil's thoughts, Mrs. Branson suddenly said, "I wished my Jim hadn't died so young, but I cannot imagine how much worse it would have been if our relationship was tense and cold when he died. By they time he went to heaven, we were talking again. Listening to each other again. Enjoying each other's company. Kissing…" She appeared to be losing herself in memories, as her voice became wistful and her firm, clear eyes stared into a distance only she could see.

"Oh, Mam," Tom sighed. He stopped walking suddenly to give his mother a hug. Right on the street. Sometimes Sybil was still surprised by their displays of affection in such a public place.

She returned his embrace, but then her firm eyes focused on Sybil and Tom again. "The two of you come from very different worlds. If you intend to make your marriage work, you will need to work on it even more than Jim and I did. With listening to each other. Making compromises. Trying to understand each other even when you don't wish to do so. Make decisions that are best for both of you as a couple and as a family, rather than ones that are best for you as individuals. Read the Bible if you need more advice, but I hope you will fix whatever is the problem between you two."

Sybil felt small and guilty again, as Mrs. Branson reminded her once again of a stern governess who'd caught her misbehaving.

"That's enough, Mam," Tom said firmly, sounding cross toward his mother again, despite their recent tender moment. "Sybil and I will be fine."

Mrs. Branson just sighed and gave both of them another stern look.

"I'm sorry about Mam," Tom said as they finally entered their own flat. "I thought by now she'd believe in our marriage, but I suppose it's too much to ask." He slammed the door behind them.

Despite his obvious anger, Sybil smiled at him, appreciating him standing up for her and becoming cross on her behalf. She also appreciated his apology, although it wasn't the one, she still longed to hear. "Well, I believe in us, Tom," Sybil said softly staring into his eyes. "Because I love you."

Tom's hazel eyes lit up as she said that important phrase, and his body seemed to relax for the first time in days. "That's so good to hear," he said.

Sybil sighed, wondering if she should have tried harder to listen to Tom in the past few days. Mrs. Branson's words were hard and frustrating, especially as it seemed she still didn't believe in Sybil and Tom's love. But the words 'I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if everything was still tense and cold when he died,' wandered through Sybil's head. It reminded her of something Sybil had already learned recently. No one knew how long they had to live. It was, after all, one of the reasons why she and Tom had wed so quickly.

How would Sybil feel if something happened to either of them while things were tense and cold?

In the last few days, it had been Tom who tried to smile at her, and she would turn away. He also complimented her, and she snapped at him in return. She had been cross, but that wasn't an excuse to treat her husband in that manner. "I'm sorry that I haven't shown it in the last few days, Tom. I know you are trying your best."

Sybil just wished she could believe Tom's best was enough in Ireland. An awkward silence hung between them, as they both seemed to wonder what to say next.

"I suppose I shouldn't have expected you to understand about Detective Smyth," Tom finally said, voicing the main issue that was unresolved between them. "You're so warm – hearted, Sybil, and you never want anyone hurt." He took both of her hands in his and looked deep in her eyes, making her feel warm everywhere. "That's one reason I love you, and" he took a deep breathe, as if this next part were very difficult for him to say. "I'm sorry for not appreciating that."

Hearing the words she'd longed to hear for the last few days, Sybil wrapped her arms around him tightly and kissed him deeply. Tom responded, causing an explosion between their mouths. Then there were several little explosions caused by other kisses around her face and neck.

"I do hope everything works for Irish Independence, Tom," she said as they finally withdrew, their foreheads still pressed together, breathing in unison. "And for us living here, too. I just…I'm concerned, that's all."

Tom nodded without saying anything.

It was time to put this subject behind them. "So, what should we do for the new Jimmy's birthday?" Sybil said, far more cheerfully as she pulled out some soda bread for luncheon. "We were just reminded this morning how important it is to celebrate the fact that he's with us." She truly hoped Sheena's son would get everything Tom's little brother had not.

Tom smiled as he picked up a couple of pieces of bread as well. "Well, Mam's making oatmeal cookies, of course. And I know Sheena has made him a couple of new outfits, so I don't know…"

"Do you know if he has any blocks to play?" Sybil asked as she sat down at their table. "I know the type of toys we had at Downton wouldn't be possible, nor were they ever necessary, but certainly a boy would enjoy some wooden blocks."

"Perhaps," Tom said, sitting down at the table as well.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sybil and Tom entered Sheena's flat a week later, holding hands. They also carried a small brown bag with wooden blocks.

"Hello, Tommy!" everyone said in the crowded flat. She could see Sheena, Nolan, and Tom's Mam nearby. In the distance Sybil also caught sight of Uncle Conner, and probably some of Tom's cousin's who'd lost a sibling in the Easter Rising. Sybil's heartbeat faster as she braced herself for their snubs, as understandable as they were.

"Hello, Sybil," Sheena said, greeting her personally with a bright smile and a hug. Sybil returned it eagerly, happy that Tom's younger sister had always been so friendly to her.

"And happy birthday!" she said to the little boy, beaming from his highchair. Biscuit covered his face and hands. After pausing a moment, she bent and kissed his forehead. The boy giggled in response.

"You can both have an oatmeal biscuit," Tom's Mam, said pulling out two biscuits from a container on the table in the center of the room.

Sybil's heart leaped at what she hoped was an honest gesture from the older woman. "Thank you very much, she said with a warm smile. She took the biscuit gladly.

"Thanks, Mam," Tom said as well, taking a biscuit.

Kieran came in a few moments later, carrying a jug of liquor and calling out "Happy Birthday, Jimmy!" as he entered.

"Hey, Kieran!" everyone said. Tom walked over to slap his brother on the back, which Kieran returned.

"Good to see you, too, Tommy," Kieran said. "Would you like some beer? I brought some for everyone." He held up the jug, almost smirking a bit.

"Sounds great," Tom said with a nod.

"Bring it here next," Uncle Conner shouted from across the room.

"I'll take some, too, Kieran," said Nolan, to Sybil's extreme surprise, as he was normally so quiet.

Soon everyone in the flat asked for a mug of beer, even the women. Before she knew it, Sybil found herself asking for some herself. It smelled strange and tasted bitter, especially compared to the wine she was used to at Downton. But it wasn't that bad, especially the more she tried it.

And it certainly made the birthday party lively.

This party wasn't anything like the fancy dinner parties at Downton. Or even the family – focused birthday celebrations they'd held in the drawing room or the library. But everyone in the flat seemed to enjoy it.

Especially the birthday boy, who had just finished his oatmeal cookie, and was giving everyone else a big, messy, toothy grin.

"I remember this time last year," Sheena said with a laugh, after several gulps of beer. "I thought Jimmy would never come out! I pushed and pushed and…well he was a stubborn one, that's for sure." She shook her head at her son.

Jimmy looked at his mother and giggled, reaching out his hands for another biscuit. His grandmother immediately handed him another one, which he promptly smashed all over the table. "He just knows what he wants, Sheena," Mam said. "There is nothing wrong with that."

Sybil smiled at Tom, who had also always known what he wanted. "No, there was nothing wrong with that," she said to the rest of the group.

She could have sworn everyone smiled at her in response. Just for a moment.

Sybil didn't see any of the presents Jimmy received that day. Perhaps some of the guests didn't even bring presents. But everyone there loved the little boy and told stories about him with their beer and biscuits.

"I remember when Sybil and I first saw little Jimmy," Tom said, taking another gulp of beer. "I couldn't believe my baby sister already had a baby who was almost a year old… and now he is a year old. He's growing so fast."

"Too fast, I think sometimes," Nolan said with a nod to his son.

Briefly, Sybil wondered how soon she would become pregnant. Would her baby have Tom's eyes, or her hair? A handsome boy or a cute little girl? Could she be a proper mother, especially in Ireland?

She took another drink, trying to gulp it like the rest of the party was doing, to banish the bad thoughts. What was important was that they celebrated her nephew's first birthday.

Just as importantly, no one made any insults towards Sybil today. She felt warm, and not just because she was in a crowded flat in the middle of August, drinking room temperature beer. Perhaps her in – laws were finally beginning to accept her and Tom as a unit. A real married couple.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

A few nights later, Sybil finished washing the dishes, the warm water still feeling making her sweat a little against her neck. Sighing with relief, she picked up a piece of paper and a pen, as she finally had a chance to respond to Mary's letter.

"Tom," she said, calling his name from the next room. "Will you help me write a letter to my sister?"

His face appeared in the kitchen, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "Why would you need my help? She's your sister. You are the one who wishes to receive letters."

Sybil nodded. "Quite, but you are a better writer than I am, Tom. Besides, if we expect our families to see us as a couple, we need to prove we are unit. I think that means responding to Mary's letter together. You read it along with me, after all."

Tom smiled widely, his hazel eyes shining with pride. "You've thought a lot about this."

"I have," she said, stepping closer to him, admiring the look in his eyes and the curve of his jaw.

"I suppose I'll could help write the letter, then," Tom said with a nod. Suddenly, he pulled Sybil's face toward him, not caring that she was still a bit sweaty, and kissed her. "Mo ghra," he whispered as he finally withdrew, leaving her a dazed for a moment.

"Oh, Tom," she said, breathing deeply. "Well," she pointed to the pen and paper still on the table. "We should write that letter."

Tom nodded and sat in the same seat he used for breakfast and dinner.

Dear Mary,

Sybil does amazingly well with all the household chores, even after only a few months of living here. But I always knew she would, as I knew how quickly she adapted to nursing and what a hard worker she was at the hospital. She's stronger than most people realize.

Meanwhile, Tom has published a few articles for the newspaper. I'm particularly proud of the one focused on Eamon Valera, but he also has been writing a great series about the railroad in Ireland. He earns a nice salary at the Irish Times.

It is nice to hear Mama and Papa's birthday celebrations went fine. I truly wish them both well, and I hope they know that.

A few days ago, we both attended Tom's sister's, Sheena's son, Jimmy's first birthday, and everyone had a wonderful time. I was impressed by how well everyone treated Sybil.

We both agree that Bates arrest is unfair, and our thoughts are with him and Anna as well. Taking Anna to York an extra day was very sweet of you. Hopefully Papa will be able to bail Bates out soon, but if he does continue to be unjustly locked up, it would be a great idea to take Anna to York again when you are able.

Please write again when you are able. We are both eager to hear from you and news of Downton.

Sincerely,

Sybil and Tom.

It wasn't perfect, by any means. The letter didn't flow together, like Tom's articles did, but it was obvious that they'd written it cooperation. "I think Mary will hear both of our voices in it," Tom said with a nod, glancing between Sybil and the letter between them.

Sybil nodded, understanding what he meant. The beginning was definitely written by Tom, while the middle was obviously written by her. She sealed the envelope carefully. "Hopefully I can mail this out tomorrow."

Tom's family seemed to have accepted them as a couple. Hopefully Sybil's would as well eventually. This letter would help.

Tom nodded, his hand moving up her arm, reminding Sybil of the steamy kiss they'd shared earlier. "Yes, but tonight, I'd rather focus on going to the bedroom," His voice was low and throaty, sending more and more delightful shivers through her body.

Her hand reached over to touch his thick, dark hair which flopped all over head. "Me too," she said, pulling his face closer to hers.

They exchanged several kisses, both big and small as they made their way to the bedroom.