A/N: Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! It truly brightens my day to read all your thoughts!


New Normal

Chapter Seven

January 1, 2015

"I feel like I was missing something," said Charles as he unbuttoned his shirt. Mary watched him from the bed languidly. "At dinner. During the fight," he clarified as if it wasn't obvious what he was referring to.

Mary bit back a sigh. "I don't think it's escaped you that Papa's a little old fashioned," she said, stretching out on the bed. Mama was the one in charge of arranging which rooms people were staying in, which was the only reason Charles was in here with her now. "And believe it or not, he's actually come a long way. But... well, before Sybil died, they fought almost constantly and about almost everything. He fought with Tom, too, but of course it would upset Sybil, and so she'd join in."

Charles frowned before joining her on the bed, kicking his trousers to the floor. "He didn't like Tom?"

Mary shook her head. "Not really. It took everyone some time to warm up to him... even me," she admitted, ashamed of her younger self. Once the engagement ring had been slipped onto Sybil's finger, she had decided to let bygones be bygones and accepted Tom would be a part of their family, but before then she had been firmly on Papa's side, uncertain he would actually be able provide her with any semblance of happiness.

Charles studied her. "Even after they were married?"

"Tom and Sybil never got married," she told him. "They were engaged but... well, she passed before they could get that far."

"Oh." Charles sat up. Mary gave him a curious look and he quickly said, "You always said he was your brother-in-law— I thought..."

"Sorry," said Mary, sitting up as well. "I forget what you know and what you don't know... I always feel like it's simpler, calling him my brother-in-law instead of explaining that he was almost my brother-in-law."

Charles nodded. "Fair enough." He smiled. "But why— your father..."

Realizing she hadn't finished the story, she said, "After Sybil... well, after she... Mama blamed Papa. A doctor said something about stress and Mama essentially claimed Papa had been the one to kill her." Mary shook her head. "Papa had set her up with some sort of specialist who used to work for the royal family or something like that, too, which made it all the worse when the doctor ignored all the signs something was wrong. Mama eventually realized it wasn't his fault and that he was as sad as she was but I think he still blames himself, in a way. Or at least I think he wishes he wouldn't have argued with her so often."

He seemed pensive before laying back down. "I'm sorry," he said before leaning over and kissing her bare shoulder. Mary let her eyes close. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been for your family... no wonder he was so upset."

"At least there's a silver lining to all this," said Mary inching closer to him. "I doubt Sarah will be over anymore and now you won't have to listen to me complaining about her."

Charles laughed before leaning over and kissing her again. When they parted, he said, "I love you." Before she could say anything else, he quickly said, "You don't have to say anything if you aren't ready. I just wanted you to know."

Mary merely smiled back, leaning in to kiss him again. She was pleased 2015 was already starting out on a high note.


"Are you sure?"

"You haven't any car seats," said Mary as gently as possible, holding George in her arms. He was already bundled up in his coat, and Sybbie was standing in front of them, kicking the gravel. Their breath was visible in the air as she leaned over, kissing him again. "Tom's on his way. I'll be fine."

Charles smiled. "I'll stay until I can make sure you've a ride home," he decided. "Just to put my mind at ease."

"How chivalrous," Mary teased, though truthfully she thought it was rather sweet.

Before he could make any more cheeky comments, Tom's car pulled up in front of the house. "I'll see you soon," Mary promised him, leaning in for one last kiss as Tom hopped out of the car.

"Love you," Charles said again, so casually that Mary could scarcely believe it. He exchanged hellos and goodbyes with Tom as he and Mary loaded their respective children into their car seats, waving goodbye as he walked to his own car.

January 16, 2015

"I cannot believe you actually invited her!" hissed Mary when Sarah entered the room, a large square package in her hands with white wrapping paper and a large pink bow. Tom was trailing behind her, bent down low enough to hold both George and Sybbie's hands, dressed in a grey tee shirt with some sort of logo emblazoned on it and a pair of dark jeans.

"What was I supposed to do?" asked Edith, sitting down in the arm chair. At this stage in pregnancy, Edith was enormous— something Mary might have delighted in if she didn't know the feeling all too well. "She's Tom's girlfriend! I didn't want to—" She stooped talking the moment she realized the couple was headed towards them.

"Hi, Edith! Where do you want our gift?" asked Sarah, smiling as she approached Edith. She didn't even glance at Mary— their brief interactions had become more antagonistic than before, all semblance of politeness out the window after New Year's Eve. Whenever she stopped by the house, Mary was content to pretend she didn't exist.

"Just over there on that table is alright," said Edith, smiling. They began chatting with one another, giving Mary the opportunity to turn to Tom.

"Deciding to raise Papa's blood pressure again, I see?" She knelt down, picking up George, pleased Tom had at least dressed him in the outfit she had picked out for him before running over to help Edith.

"I've never been to a baby shower before," insisted Tom, shrugging, "I don't know what I'm supposed to wear to one of these things."

Mary smiled, examining his casual attire with amusement, especially contrasted to every woman present, who was wearing a dress of some sort. "You could have asked me," she pointed out. "Or Sarah," she added, realizing that she was (regrettably) an option.

"I'll remember that for next time," said Tom, though Mary wondered how soon next time would be. She wasn't planning on having a baby any time soon... Maybe for Anna, but she was focused on work right now. The Anna Bates Investigates series had really taken off.

Mary felt something tug at the bottom of her dress. "Where's Donk?" asked Sybbie.

"Donk went to the vet's with Isis," explained Mary... and thank God he was. She loathed to think of his reaction upon realizing Sarah had invaded their home once more. "They're going to see if she'll be having more puppies. He'll be back once the party starts."

Sybbie pouted, clearly upset she wouldn't be able to monopolize her grandfather's attention. Poor Sybbie would have a hard time adjusting once Baby Marigold or Baby Chelsea (Edith still hadn't made up her mind what to call her) was in the picture. "Why don't you go see Granny Violet?" asked Mary, looking over at her grandmother, who was seated on the couch next to Isobel. "You too, Georgie. You can go say hi to Nana."

At the mention of his grandmother, George loudly exclaimed, "Nana!" and began wriggling in Mary's arms. She tried not to laugh as he practically ran across the room, almost tripping over the rug, racing Sybbie.

"Isn't it strange?" Tom mused, watching them. "It feels like only yesterday they were tiny babies... now they can walk and talk."

"And then they'll be heading off to school," Mary said with a sigh, staring after them as well. George was climbing up the couch as Sybbie jumped up and down in front of Granny. "It goes by too fast."

Neither of them noticed the curious look Sarah was giving them.


January 21, 2016

"Need any help?"

Tom looked up from the cutting board, a mischievous look in his eye. "Shouldn't you be out there fascinating your boyfriend?"

"You've been talking to Granny again," said Mary, rolling her eyes good naturedly, recalling her particular phrases. Tom merely grinned before returning to his task. "Seriously... is there anything I can do to help?"

"Why are you asking? You normally don't ask."

Mary blinked. He wasn't saying it an accusing manner, merely in a matter of fact way. "It's my date," she insisted. "I ought to do something."

"How about you sit down and enjoy it while I make dinner?"

Mary huffed. "It doesn't seem right... you doing all the work."

"If you went out to a restaurant, a chef would be doing all the work," pointed out Tom.

"But you aren't a chef. I know you and I want to help."

"And I know you, and I want to keep the house standing," quipped Tom, smirking before adding the vegetables to the pan.

Mary's cheeks burned. "How was I to know you aren't supposed to put silverware in the microwave?" She said, crossing her arms when Tom started laughing. "My parents only taught me which ones you are supposed to use for soup or for dessert, not which places you aren't supposed to put them!"

Tom let out another bark of laughter. "Well, for future reference, you aren't supposed to stick them into light sockets, either." Mary rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you never figured out the microwave thing at uni."

Mary shrugged. She'd never run into problems at uni... well, almost none. In the kitchen, that is. She had plenty of problems elsewhere.

"Mary?" She turned around, spotting Charles in the doorway. "Sorry— but where's your bathroom?"

"It's just over here," said Mary, leaving the kitchen to push past him and direct him there.


February 2, 2015

CHARLES: How are Edith and the baby?

MARY: Doing good! She still hadn't come up with what to call her yet— I think she'll be a Marigold, though.

CHARLES: I'm glad to hear it! I still think she should be Chelsea.

CHARLES: Isn't it a little weird that your sister's top two names are so similar to ours?

MARY: You've made that joke already.

MARY: I'll just be happy once she makes up her mind

CHARLES: Did it take you a long time to figure out George's name?

MARY: Matthew and I had picked it out beforehand. We didn't even have any ideas for a girl's name except that we planned on the middle name being Isobel

CHARLES: It's too bad she had to do this all on her own. Her ex is a dick

MARY: He is but I'm proud of her. She's a lot stronger than anyone gives her credit

"Do you want to hold her?" Edith asked.

Mary glanced up from her phone. Mama was holding the baby now, cooing at her granddaughter. "Sure," decided Mary, setting her phone down. She took her new niece into her arms, marveling at how small she was. There was already a reddish tint to her hair, like Edith's... "She's lovely," Mary told Edith honestly.

"Thanks," her sister said, looking visibly exhausted but pleased.


"Do you want more kids?"

Mary was startled by the question. She sat down her glass of wine. "What?"

Charles shrugged. "I suppose Edith's baby just got me thinking. About what it would be like."

"Don't you think it's a little too soon to be discussing that sort of thing?" asked Mary tightly, more than a little nervous. This wasn't supposed to be some big thing...

His smile faded. "You're probably right," Charles agreed, reaching for his glass and taking a sip.

Half an hour later, Mary stepping out of a cab in front of Aunt Rosamund's. She slipped up the stairs and into the "nursery", which was a spare bedroom with a twin bed and a crib.

When she entered the room, Mary felt like all the breath had left her lungs. Tom was sprawled out on the bed, fully dressed, Sybbie curled up at his side. They were both asleep. A picture book was lying on the floor next to him. George was in his crib, sleeping as well.

"Mama?" He mumbled when Mary reached in, brushing his blond hair aside.

"Go back to sleep, darling," whispered Mary, kissing her middle and index fingers before letting them sit on his cheek. George's eyes parted for a moment, revealing his brilliant blue irises, before closing again.

Mary turned around, still in awe of how precious the sight of Tom and Sybbie was. She took out her phone, taking a picture before sending it to his phone. The screen lit up next to Sybbie, where Mary noticed it wasn't plugged in to charge. Moving carefully so not to wake them, Mary plugged it in, next to still lit lamp, and left them alone.


February 13, 2015

"What?"

Mary couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe those words had left his mouth. She couldn't believe it was happening to her...

"I'm sorry," Charles said, looking down at the table. "But... I think it's for the best."

She felt like there was something stuck in her throat. "Why, particularly?"

Charles wore a strange look on his face. "Because... well, I'm more invested in us than you are."

"You know what you were getting into. You knew that I was still getting over my husband dying!" countered Mary. She was trying restrain her anger, but she felt powerless.

"I know," said Charles, sounding genuinely apologetic. "But... Well, I don't think I'm the man for you. Not in the long run. And if we wait much longer, I think I'll end up with a broken heart."

Mary didn't understand what he was saying... but she did realize she was being dumped. "Why here?" she asked, gesturing the lights hanging overtop their head. It was the same place they had made things official. "Why now?"

Charles winced. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I wasn't planning this. I just— I don't know. You can call it an epiphany, if you want."

Mary didn't want to call it anything... but she realized he was probably making the best decision for them both. The hurt she felt was more because of where they were and the fact he was the one ending things instead of her. The only person who had ever dumped her was Matthew... and he had redeemed himself in her good graces by getting back together with her. Somehow she doubted she would want to see Charles much after this evening.

"I just— I don't understand. Why have you suddenly changed your mind?" asked Mary.

Charles hesitated. He swirled his wine around in his glass. "You won't like the answer."

"I don't care if I like it or not. Tell me why."

He let out a deep sigh. "Mary... what is Tom to you?"

She was unprepared for that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... Who is he? To you? What role does he serve in your life?"

"You know that already. He's my best friend," said Mary instantly. "And he's my brother-in-law..." Her eyes narrowed. "You aren't seriously jealous of Tom, are you?"

"No," he answered, "no, I'm not. And don't worry— I'm not under some misguided impression something illicit has been going on... but I don't think you realize how close the two of you are. You're a huge part of one another's lives."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," replied Charles, honestly, even kindly, "but I think you need to examine your feelings for one another a little more closely."

Mary blinked. She couldn't believe what she was hearing... "This is ridiculous!" she sputtered, ready to storm out.

"Mary— Look, the fact is you are best friends. You live together. You are essentially raising children together... And you blew off a date with me to spend an evening home with him." Before Mary could remind him that it had been his birthday, Charles added, "When I went to your house for dinner, I felt like a third wheel on my own date!"

Third wheel? If he wanted to be a third wheel, he ought to sit down and enjoy a meal with Sarah where she would attempt to poison him.

"He has a girlfriend, in case you have forgotten!"

"How can I?" asked Charles, irritation seeping into his voice for the first time since this argument began. They were both oblivious to the nervous glances they were receiving from the other patrons. "You are constantly telling me about how much you hate the two of them together! It's one thing to dislike her, but it's almost an obsession, Mary!"

"The reason I don't like Sarah is because she is rude!" Mary insisted. "She's one of the most annoying people I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. I know Tom deserves better than that!"

Charles shook his head. "It's as if you can't even hear yourself." Mary scoffed. "This isn't all in my head, Mary. The two of you... the way you act around each other. I felt like you were a married couple and here I was, intruding into your blissful little lives."

"If you call losing the loves of our lives blissful, I suppose we are," said Mary sarcastically. Ordinarily, she knew speaking of Matthew in such bluntly honest terms was hardly appropriate conversation for a date, but this was hardly a date anymore, was it?

Charles, to his credit, didn't even flinch. He merely added, calmly, "And I saw you. At New Year's."

Mary frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When you hugged him. I saw you."

It wasn't stated as an accusation but Mary interpreted it as one nevertheless. "There's nothing indecent about hugging someone!" insisted Mary, shocked he would insinuate such a thing.

"I agree. There isn't. But you don't show that sort of affection to just anyone, Mary." Charles was solemn now, almost reading off a list as he said, "I've never seen you hug anyone else. Ever. Not at the party, not when Edith had her baby... Maybe George and Sybil, but that's it. You're affectionate with me but only when no one else is around. And that's fine," he added, "that's who you are. But I don't think you have realized how you might actually feel yet."

"Charles, what you are saying is absolute lunacy!" insisted Mary. "He almost married my sister! There's never been anything between us, nor will there ever be!"

Charles met her eyes. "I wish I could believe that, Mary. You have no idea how much." He tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled it away. "I wanted to be with you. For a long time. For as long as you would have me... but..."

"Well, maybe you could have had it," Mary spat venomously, reaching for her bag, "if you stopped inventing romances between me and my brother-in-law." She jumped to her feet, storming out of the restaurant. He could pay, she thought as she left the restaurant. She managed to snag a cab and directed it back to Aunt Rosamund's.

When she crashed onto her guest bed there, too exhausted to even cry. She couldn't believe it... her and Charles were over. Through. Done.

And she wasn't even sad. Not really. She had liked him... she had liked him a lot. Granted, she had never imagined any real sort of future with him, but she had never seen the end in her mind's eye.

As she deleted pictures from her phone and changed her relationship status on Facebook, a notification came through. It was from Tom...

TOM: Just put George to bed. Asked him if he wanted to say anything to Mummy. He said "Say 'I love her'."

Her heart melted.

MARY: I love him, too. Please tell him that Mummy is looking forward to seeing him as soon as she is done in London.

As she waited for him to respond, she wondered if she should tell him... but that would only seem to reinforce what Charles was saying about them. How they were such large part of one another's lives...

So instead of responding to Tom's How are things in London going? Say hi to Charles for me!, Mary responded to a number she hadn't contacted in a while. It took some scrolling, but she found it.

MARY: Hey


February 14, 2015

She couldn't believe she was doing this— She told Tom she was staying an extra night while she let Aunt Rosamund believe she was heading home.

Mary posed, examining herself in the mirror of her hotel room. Her new red dress was practically skin tight, her make up immaculately done. The dark circles under her eyes were concealed, which was a relief— even though he knew she had been up all night, considering he had been the one to keep her awake.

There was a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" Mary called out, checking herself yet again before striding to the door.

Tony grinned when he looked at her. "God, you're gorgeous," he breathed, letting his eyes wander all over her.

Mary smiled, stepping back and inviting him in. "You don't look too bad yourself," she said, impressed at the effort he had put into his appearance. He hadn't been lying when he had said he would wait for her... and now he was jumping through hoops to prove his willingness. "So... what's the plan?"

"I thought I would take you to my favorite restaurant, where we would have a lovely dinner," Tony began, stepping closer towards her. Mary smiled. "Then I'd take you to the cinema to watch Fifty Shades of Grey... maybe get some ideas for later..." he said, seductively as possible, "Then I'll bring you back here and then I wouldn't leave until the next morning."

"I like the sound of that." He leaned down and their lips met. Mary pulled him even closer to her. His hands fell on her waist, traveling lower and lower... "Are you sure we should even bother with the dinner and the movie?" She was mostly asking to skip out on the film— Matthew had bought the book at the height of its popularity, wondering what the hype was about, reading passages aloud to her in the most ridiculous voices possible to make her laugh... She had no idea how she would manage to sit in a darkened cinema, watching it with a straight face sitting next to Tony without thinking of him, especially when tonight was all about forgetting.

"I'm a gentleman," insisted Tony, leaning in for another kiss. He tasted of mint— he had clearly wanted to make a good impression. "I'll wine you and dine you before taking you to bed... but I suppose we don't need the movie."


Several hours later, Mary was in that same hotel room, crawling around on the floor, throwing on her clothes. Tony was asleep, completely oblivious.

To say that her evening had not been fantastic... was a little harsh. Dinner had been nice. The restaurant he had taken her to was sublime, the food prepared to perfection...

But the experience in this hotel room was completely underwhelming.

As Mary straightened the spaghetti straps on her dress, she realized how lucky she had been with Matthew. He had ruined her for all other men, she realized, a fact he was likely celebrating in Heaven or wherever he was in the universe. Tony had tried... which was all she could really say.

She wondered what the proper protocol was for these sorts of things. Was she supposed to write a note? She didn't even know where to find a pen...

Finally, Mary decided to text him.

MARY: Sorry. I changed my mind.

Thinking it seemed to harsh, Mary cast a panicked look at his sleeping figure and added :( to soften the blow.

God, what she been thinking? Her and Charles had only broken up last night and the very next night she was sleeping with another man? She hoped they never ran into either one another again, loathing to think of the impression she would leave on them...

Mary only realized her night would be a whole lot worse once she stepped into the hallway and spotted a camera crew and an all too familiar woman, who began slowing to a halt. "Cut the cameras."


Mary didn't catch up to Mabel until she ducked into the women's bathroom near the lobby of the hotel. To her credit, Mabel wasn't carrying on and making a fuss like Edith might've and when she emerged from the stall, though she was blotting her eyes with a piece of tissue paper.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, to be honest," said Mary without thinking. "I suppose I came to make sure you were alright."

"Well, I'm not. Are you happy?" demanded Mabel, slowly becoming more and more composed. Nevertheless, Mary was stunned. This wasn't the woman she had seen so often on television and in the tabloids...

"Not particularly."

"Why wouldn't you be? You finally have him now."

"I don't have anyone now. I was leaving for a reason," said Mary, letting her irritation seep through her voice. It occurred to her just then that Mabel was speaking to her with a strange familiarity, as if she knew just who Mary was.

"I was trying to surprise him. Did you know that?" Mary didn't possibly see how she could have known that, but let Mabel continue on, "I figured that since you were with Charles—" Mary flinched, just now remembering their connection, "—that I could win him back." She dabbed at her eyes. "How will Charles feel when he learns his girlfriend was coming out of another man's hotel room?"

"Considering we broke up last night, I hardly how it's any of his business what I do with my life," Mary replied cooly. She was many things but she wasn't a cheater, regardless of what some people would think. Mabel looked stunned, especially when Mary continued, "You can have Tony. I'm sure when he wakes up tomorrow in an empty bed, he'll have a far less favorable opinion of me."

Mabel furrowed her eyebrows, still somewhat weepy but regarding Mary with a curious look. When she said nothing, Mary decided to ask some questions of her own. "How did you know Tony was here, anyway?"

"A friend of mine works here. He saw him check in." Mabel turned to the mirrors, examining her appearance. "Obviously he didn't know you were here as well."

Mary blinked, uncertain of how to respond. "Well... I am sorry. Truly. I am." It seemed, at least to her, she had played a significant role in Mabel's heartbreak more than she should have. The first time was hardly her fault but the second time was all her doing. Maybe that was why, in a rare display of kindness, Mary asked, "Is there anything I can do to make this right?"

Mabel turned to her, looking surprised. She examined Mary carefully before asking, "Would you care to be on television?"

Her gut reaction said No, but she had offered... "That depends... How am I to be portrayed?"

"It would hardly be in a flattering light," admitted Mabel, leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. "But we can always keep your identity anonymous... I can even blur out your face."

Mary nodded. "Very well." She suspected that a mysterious woman leaving Tony's hotel room would boost the ratings... and if the footage was already captured...

"And you could promise to stay away from Tony," added Mabel.

"I don't think that will be a problem," Mary replied. Not only did she have no desire to be with him but she suspected he wouldn't want to cross pathed with her again.

Mabel smiled with little enthusiasm. "Excellent."


"Hello?"

"Tom? It's me," said Mary, standing at the platform. This was the last train back— she was astonished they ran this late, but pleased she wouldn't have to spend another night in the city.

"Mary? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either. She wasn't in danger, which is what he was really asking. "I'm heading home now. I won't be home until about midnight. I'm sorry to ask this, but will you come pick me up?"

"Of course I will."

"You're a darling," she said with a relieved sigh. "I'll see you soon."

"See you."


February 15, 2015

"Where are the kids?" Mary asked, noticing the empty backseat.

"Sarah's with them at the house," responded Tom. Mary grimaced, glad Tom was focused on starting up the car instead of on her. "I couldn't think of who else to call this late."

"Sorry," apologized Mary, knowing none of this would have happened if it weren't for her. She should have just come home today... or tomorrow, she supposed, glancing at the clock. "That was nice of her," she managed begrudgingly.

"It was."

"She wasn't over already?" asked Mary, ignoring her own relief at the thought of Sarah staying the night... not only because her doing so would imply her and Tom really were serious, but also because the chances of Mary's bed being covered in broken glass significantly increased.

Tom shook his head. "We had dinner and watched a movie before she went home."

"That's cute," said Mary, thinking how her and Tom had done the same thing countless nights and that hardly constituted as a date... which made her think about Charles again.

As if he could read her mind, Tom asked, "Did you and Charles do anything nice? I noticed the new dress."

Mary flushed, feeling absolutely ridiculous. "Well... he took me to the restaurant where we had our first date..."

"How romantic."

"And then he dumped me."

Tom hit the brakes with more force than necessary. "Sorry," he muttered, more because of the driving before turning to her and saying, "I'm sorry, Mary."

"Don't be," she said. "I don't think we were well suited, not for the long run."

"Still... it must hurt."

"It did." Mary wasn't sure if she should mention exactly why Charles felt these steps were necessary. Should she burden him with that? Mary thought about it before figuring she might as well.

"Did he say why?" Tom asked, only reinforcing her question as to whether or not he could read her mind.

"He did, actually. But the reason he gave is an absolutely absurd one." She paused for affect, adjusting in her seat ever so slightly. "He says it's because of you."

"Me?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Isn't that ridiculous?"

"Did he think you and I were— that we're together or what?"

"No," Mary said, leaning back and crossing her legs, arms crossed over her chest. "From what I gathered, he seemed to think there was a secret, hidden passion that neither of us were acknowledging." She arched one eyebrow, turning to see his face.

Much to her relief, Tom laughed. "Where did he come up with that?"

"Because he saw me hug you once and he claims he felt like a third wheel when he came over that one time," said Mary, rolling her eyes, feeling much more at ease now.

Much to her dismay, Tom looked guilty. "I didn't want him to feel that way."

"It's not your fault he felt threatened," Mary stated resolutely. She wouldn't allow Tom to blame himself for Charles's petty jealousy.

"I know that... but maybe I overstepped—"

"You did no such thing." Her eyes flickered to the window, where they passed by darkened houses and lit street lamps. They were close to home now, passing the post office. "Please, Tom. I mean it."

He let out a heavy sigh. Mary thought this was the end of it before Tom said, "How could he think such a thing? Sybil—"

"I know." Mary didn't need him to say it. She glanced back over to him, resting her hand over the one he had placed on the center console. "You're my best friend." She hesitated. "I wonder if he would have said the same thing if you weren't a man. He probably wouldn't have."

"No— you're probably right." He pulled into the drive and Mary saw the living room lights were on. She ignored her irritation at the reminder Sarah was in her house.

Tom, ever the gentleman, carried her luggage into the house for her. "You're back," Sarah said, sounding relieved. She greeted them at the door, pulling Tom in for a kiss. Mary grimaced at the sight, pointedly looking away.

"Thank you for staying here," Tom said to her, still holding Mary's luggage. It was if she didn't even exist, intruding on their own little world. That thought reminded her of Charles once again and she balked. Without even waiting or saying a word, she slipped out of the kitchen. She could still hear their conversation as she climbed the steps, retreating to her empty bedroom.