A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! This update is coming early, but I'll be busy most of tomorrow so I thought I'd update tonight instead.
Sorry the last chapter was so sad— hopefully this one will cheer you up!
New Normal
Chapter Nine
January 12, 2016
TOM: We've landed safely in Boston
MARY: Thank God for that! What did Sybbie think of the plane?
TOM: She liked it until we hit some turbulence. Poor thing was terrified.
MARY: Oh no! Hopefully she isn't traumatized forever— I already miss her terribly!
TOM: She misses you and George too
TOM: And so do I
January 2016
Mary doubted Crawley House had ever been so quiet. George had his rambunctious moments but for the most part was a reserved child. He didn't have to compete with anyone else to gain her attention now, simply crawling into the couch and tugging at her sleeve to say, "Mummy, look!" and present her with a drawing.
It wasn't all bad. Whenever George went on outings with Isobel to the zoo or spent a day with his beloved Donk and Grandmama, Mary was granted time alone to herself. It was nice to be able to walk around the house in only a baggy tee shirt and sing at the top of her lungs without worrying about disturbing another person. Mary indulged herself by taking leisurely bubble baths and watched movies that made her cry (which, not so coincidentally, happened to be movies that she disliked watching with others).
With so much space to herself, she had started inviting Thomas over after work for a couple glasses of wine. Normally, she might have extended the invitation to Anna, but she was busy furiously writing the third installment to her popular book series. She enjoyed his company and was somewhat surprised to learn just how good Thomas was with children. She only hoped that he would finally get over Jimmy soon so he could find himself a nice man.
As pleasant as her newfound freedom was, it didn't mean it was worth losing Tom and Sybbie. She would be at the grocery store (a task she had started doing with more regularity; Tom knew she hated it and tried to it as often as he could) and spot Sybbie's favorite snack on sale, only place it in the trolley before remembering she wouldn't be there. At the end of a long day, she would come home, wishing Tom was there for her to talk to.
They still spoke; they texted one another once a day, even if it was only silly stuff about an amusing stranger Tom saw in line at McDonald's or a meme Mary found that he might appreciate. Thanks to the time difference and their demanding work schedules, weekends were the only times they could really call long enough to hear one another's voices but weekends were also busy spent with the children... and it wasn't the same as sitting down with one's best friend.
He'll only be gone for a while, she told herself, but grew increasingly worried she was deluding herself. Tom was acclimating nicely to Boston; he had befriended some coworkers already and spent plenty of time with his cousin and his family. Sybbie was enjoying it as well; she liked going to daycare and playing with her cousins. It made her wonder if maybe Boston would be permanent.
February 19, 2016
Mary smiled, scrolling up and reading the article again. She had always tried to be attentive to Tom's work, being as supportive as possible, but she was genuinely in awe as she read Tom's article.
MARY: Very well done! I'm so proud of you!
TOM: Thanks! I spent a lot of time on this one.
MARY: I can tell. Truly, you've done an excellent job.
March 21, 2016
Mary woke up on her thirtieth birthday alone in her bedroom. She stared to the empty space beside her, feeling more lonely than ever. She had never expected to celebrate it without Matthew by her side, but it was a harsh reality she had come to face... though since his passing, she had thought at least Tom would be there. She rubbed her eyes, sitting upright in her bed to check her phone.
TOM: Happy 30th birthday! I am sorry I can't be there for it, but I hope it's a good one. If you call me around eleven, maybe we can FaceTime one another? If not, it's fine!
Mary smiled down at her phone before typing her reply.
Around eleven o'clock, Mary was curled under the covers in bed, the same place she had been only sixteen hours prior, only this time George was beside her, excited to be allowed to stay up so late.
When Tom's face appeared on the screen, Mary beamed. "Happy birthday!"
"Look at you!" exclaimed Mary, eyes wide. "Is that a beard?" Perhaps that was a generous way of putting it— it was little more than a mere scruff, but certainly more facial hair than he had sported in the past.
"Yeah," Tom admitted. "D'you think it suits me?"
"I don't know what to think," admitted Mary, finding the image disconcerting. He was sitting on a slate colored sofa, the wall behind him white. When she noticed the discourages look on his face, she quickly amended, "It's not bad, though."
He chuckled. "I'll take that."
It was then that George butted into the frame. "What happened to your face?" He yelped, causing both Mary and Tom to bust up laughing.
"What happened to your face?" countered Tom teasingly. "Isn't it a bit late for you to be up?"
"I thought he might want to say hello to you... and to Sybbie, too."
"Of course— Sybbie!" He called out.
Even though she was sure it wasn't what Tom had anticipated on, Mary was pleased to say hello to her niece, who already seemed to have grown since leaving them, adorable and sweet as ever. George was excitedly telling her everything at Downton and about Marigold's birthday party and visiting Mrs. Patmore in the kitchens. They talked for quite awhile until Mary realized it was almost 11:30, telling them it was time for George to go to bed. He put up a fuss, of course, but Tom helped coax him into handing Mary's phone back to her. "I'll talk to you later," she told Tom, exchanging goodbyes until she hung up. She sent him a quick text promising to call back once George was in bed.
"Why can't Sybbie live with us anymore?" George pouted when Mary tucked him into bed.
"Because Uncle Tom moved across the ocean." It always sounded poetic, when she said that, but Mary rather liked it. It sounded like something from a fairytale instead of the harsh reality of having her best friend living in a new country.
"But why couldn't he leave her with us?"
"Because he's her father... and they must stick together, just like you and I will always stick together."
"You won't ever leave me?"
Mary froze, glancing at her son. Poor George... he was struck by that same fear of hers: being left behind. Was it any wonder, when Matthew had left them so soon? "Never," she promised, leaning down to brush a kiss to his forehead. "I'll always be here for you, darling." Maybe it was dangerous to make such promises, when life was so fleeting and could be easily snatched away, but Mary vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to always be there for him.
He drifted to sleep shortly after that, absolutely exhausted. Mary called Tom back, who was now in front of a sunlit window. She could see another apartment complex located just behind him.
"Aren't you tired?" Tom asked when Mary laid down on her side, strategically maneuvering Matthew's pillows so that she could lean her phone against it instead of holding it upright.
"Not too tired to talk to you," she countered. "Why don't you give me a house tour?"
Tom obliged, showing her every room in his flat, laughing when Mary critiqued some of his design choices.
"Why would you hang that up?" She said between peals of laughter. He had just shown her a picture he had framed in the hallway of dogs playing poker. It was utterly ridiculous, in Mary's opinion,
"I don't know what's so objectionable about it," Tom said, huffing, though she could tell it was an act. He was smiling.
"You don't?" Mary arched her eyebrow.
"I thought it was nice," Tom said, a little embarrassed but laughing regardless. "I suppose I'll have to cancel the shipment of your gift now..."
"You didn't!"
"No, I didn't!" Tom grinned cheekily as Mary let out a relieve sigh, still laughing. "Do you want it to be a surprise or not?"
"You know I hate surprises."
"You're getting a card from Sybbie and a book from me," said Tom.
"A book? What sort of a book?"
"It's a novel. One I thought you'd like."
"I just told you I hate surprises," Mary said good naturedly. "You might as well tell me what it is."
"Trust me. I think you'll like it." He was smiling from ear to ear.
Considering how well he knew her, Mary figured he would probably be right. "Very well," she said with a sigh. "It had better be good," she warned him, without any real malice, fairly certain it would be.
It was almost one in the morning before they finally said goodnight to one another, Mary's eyes tired and her phone almost dead. "We should do this more often," said Tom, leaning back in his chair. "I miss talking with you."
"Me too," she said sleepily, eyes almost falling shut. "The house feels empty without you." She paused. "You know that there's always a place for you here if you want it, don't you?"
"I do. And thank you."
"Are you happy there?" Mary wasn't sure if she wanted him to say yes or no. Selfishly, she wanted him to be longing for Downton, miserable in his flat and wishing he was with them, which would of course prompt him to change his mind about leaving them. But as someone who loved Tom and wanted him to be happy, that was also the last thing she wanted for him. He had carved out a new life for himself, just as he had wanted... it was only a question of whether or not this is what he needed, what he was truly looking for.
"Yeah. I am."
Mary smiled back, pleased at her almost palpable relief. So she wasn't a completely horrible person after all... "I'm glad."
May 9, 2016
Mama and Papa had gone up to London to visit Aunt Rosamund for a day or two, so George was staying with Isobel for the day. It was a break from routine, but something that had occasionally come up over the years. Isobel, while retired, still remained active in the community, but always looked forward for a chance to spend time with her grandson and even Sybbie. Mary supposed she shouldn't have been surprised when, upon reaching Isobel's, she asked, "Do you think Tom would mind if I sent little Sybil a birthday gift?"
Mary started at the question. "Of course not! In fact, I'm sure they would both be quite happy."
Isobel smiled at Mary. "I'm sorry he's gone," she said, but with a strangely optimistic tone in her voice. "I always liked Tom. It was nice to have a member of the family who wasn't afraid to speak their mind... and of course little Sybil was such a dear thing." Mary felt a lump forming in her throat as Isobel asked, "Do you hear from him often?"
"I do. It's a little hard, with the difference in time zones, but we manage to stay in touch."
"And how is he liking it?"
"I think he's enjoying himself there." As loath as she was to admit it, Boston wasn't looking so temporary. Mary hated dwelling on it but tried to make herself feel better by reminding herself that he was happy.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that!" said Isobel, beaming. "It must be rather exciting— I've always wanted to go to America."
"Don't catch Granny heading you say that," Mary said with a smile. Isobel and Granny has a strange bond; there were times it seemed almost antagonistic, but they also genuinely seemed to appreciate one another's company.
Isobel let out a chuckle but said, "I'll have to remember to bring it up when she comes over for tea this afternoon."
Mary bit back a laugh, realizing full well where Matthew had inherited his argumentative streak. It was almost surprising that Isobel had pursued nursing when she easily could have made a good lawyer. "I have to dash, but it was lovely talking to you," said Mary, smiling at her mother-in-law and saying her farewells.
It wasn't until she had passed the music studio where Jimmy worked that Mary let herself think about how Sybbie's fourth birthday was mere days away. It would be strange... and much too quiet.
June 2, 2016
TOM: How was your date with Jason?
MARY: His name was Justin. And it was horrible.
TOM: I'm sorry :( Do you want to talk about it?
MARY: Not really. He was ok but not my type. I just spent the whole time wishing I was with Matthew instead
TOM: I know what you mean
MARY: You mean with Sarah?
TOM: No. I actually went on a date a few weeks ago with some girl one of my friends set me up with. I didn't realize it was a date until later though
MARY: Oh no! How didn't you realize?
TOM: Emily just told me she thought we would hit it off. I thought she only meant as a friend
MARY: Thats sounds mortifying
TOM: It really was. I feel bad for the poor girl
MARY: What was she like?
TOM: She worked at an accounting firm and she actually had a daughter, too. She was nice but I wasn't a very good date
MARY: That's understandable.
MARY: I'm done dating for a while. Actually, I think I'm fine being a spinster forever
TOM: What's the male version of a spinster? I could be one of those.
MARY: You're the journalist, you're the one who knows obscure words
TOM: Yes but I also didn't go to a fancy school like you
MARY: Google says you're a bachelor
TOM: Well that's disappointing. It's boring compared to spinster
Mary rolled her eyes but smiled, laying back down on her pillow. It was late, approaching midnight, but she didn't care. Her night had been less than satisfactory... but at least there was a bright spot to it all.
November 8, 2016
"So I take it you'll be staying in America for a while, then?" asked Mary, trying to conceal her disappointment. The results of the election were in and it sounded as if America would be in for an eventful four years... and because Tom hadn't been talking to her about moving back any time soon in the past couple of weeks.
"Looks like it," Tom said on the other end. "This administration will be an interesting one for sure. I'll be moving to D.C. during December, probably."
Washington D.C... Mary wondered how Sybbie felt about another big move. When she asked, Tom replied, "I've promised her this time that we'll drive— no more airplanes. She's excited about it, since I won't be gone nearly as much."
"Well, I hope it goes well," said Mary truthfully, just as she realized he probably wouldn't be coming home for Christmas. The thought saddened her, thinking of a Christmas tree with only half as many gifts residing underneath it. "When will you be moving?"
"I haven't planned that far ahead yet," he said, almost with a chuckle. "I did start looking at apartments online, though... but it's quite expensive."
"If you need me to loan you anything, don't hesitate to ask," she said, knowing he wouldn't accept any of her money but needing to offer regardless... even though she would much prefer to buy him a one-way plane ticket to England instead.
"Thanks... but I'll manage just fine."
They talked for a few more minutes, only hanging up once Tom's lunch break was through. With a sigh, Mary walked out into the kitchen, digging through the freezer until she found two microwaveable meals for her and George. As his warmed up, she reached for her phone, googling the price of tickets from London to Boston.
November 22, 2016
George slept most of the flight, which made the journey less stressful for Mary. She mainly chewed her gum and watched a film, only dozing off only briefly.
The airport was packed once they landed, and Mary was relieved to spot the woman she only knew from pictures on Facebook in the crowd of people, standing next to her young daughter. "It's so nice to meet you!" Amy Branson said, somehow more petite in person, greeting Mary and George with a smile. "Tom's told us so much about you!"
Her and George were shoved into her Prius, driving through the city. George was bemused by the fact that the cars were all "driving on the wrong side of the road"— though truthfully Mary felt strange riding on what should have been the driver's side.
The building Tom lived in had at least twenty stories, by Mary's estimation, and was made of brick. Amy handed Mary the spare key, reminded her of the room number, and drove off so she could pick up her other daughter from school. Mary thanked her once again for the ride and her involvement in this scheme, and lead George into the building.
The lift smelled of sweaty socks, which was unpleasant, but thankfully the ride to the twelfth floor wasn't a long one. It only stopped once, to let in an older gentleman with a cane and a toy poodle, before bringing her and George to Tom's floor.
"1209, 1209," muttered Mary to herself, as her and George followed the signs to their best ability. The suitcase she had brought along was beginning to feel heavy... if only she hadn't agreed to bring everyone's gifts along—
"Mummy, there it is!" George pointed to a door that was marked 1209. Mary beelined towards it, unlocking it with haste, before entering Tom's flat.
George frantically ran to find the bathroom, almost immediately, insisting that he had to go. Mary simply began removing her coat and scarf, letting herself soak in the place. He had done more decorating since he had given her his home tour... Mary observed a dead plant on the window sill, overlooking the busy street. There was a framed picture of himself and Sybbie on one wall, playing in what Mary assumed was Liam and Amy's backyard. They were drenched from head to toe, water shooting out from a sprinkler towards them, but they were both laughing.
The guest bedroom, where Mary knew she would be sleeping, was sparsely decorated. Tom clearly used it more as an office, with his desk on the wall overlooking the busy street. Apart from his desk and chair, was merely a futon, one that could be folded out into a bed. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it would be fine enough... if worst came to worst, she could check herself and George into a nearby hotel...
There was a small part of her that wondered if Tom would object to her appearance in his home. After all, it was his space and she was clearly invading it... There were little to no touches of her in this place, simply of himself and Sybbie. There were touches of Sybil as well. There was a picture of her and Tom on his desk, dressed up for a New Year's party at Downton. Sybil's poetry books were all on a bookshelf in the living room, right next to Tom's novels and history books, but several shelves above Sybbie's picture books. Mary smiled when she noted his own paperback copy of the novel he had given her for her birthday. Mary picked up The Goldfinch, it's weight reminding her of why she still hadn't finished it yet. She began flipping through the pages, amused when she noticed Tom's spindly writing in the margins and underlined under certain passages.
There was no trace of Mary at all here, no space that seemed to be set aside for her phantom presence in his life. There were still bits of him left behind at Crawley House— the one sock that had wedged it way under couch and hadn't been unearthed until he left, those obnoxious yellow gloves he insisted on wearing to wash dishes, and the old newspapers she had saved with his articles. But here— well, there was nothing. No pictures, no clothes, no anything. It made her feel more lonely than ever.
The doubts began multiplying as she shifted on the couch again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "I'm hungry," complained George, tugging on her sleeve as if he weren't standing in her line of vision. "Can't I have a snack?"
"Darling, you need to wait," insisted Mary. What if Tom or Sybbie was mad he had devoured their food? Speaking of food... should she try to make something? Or at least order some take out? It seemed awful, bombarding Tom out of nowhere to make food for two extra people, especially with his birthday tomorrow... But Mary realized with a pang that she didn't know which places Tom liked here. It was essentially like starting from scratch...
Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. She ought to have at least asked him before booking the flight...
There was the sound of jangling keys. Mary rose to her feet instinctively, hands in front of her as the door swung open. Tom was glancing down, contending with a plastic bag and Sybbie, who had spotted them. Letting out a squeal, Sybbie ran to George immediately, almost tackling him to the ground with the ferocity of her hug.
Tom, meanwhile, seemed stunned. "Mary?" He was still standing in the open doorway, mouth hanging open.
"Surprise!" She said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, still worried that perhaps he might not see this as a welcome surprise.
Before she could say anything else, Tom crosses the room, enveloping her into a tight hug. A startled laugh led Mary at his constricting grasp, but she hugged him back.
"What're you doing here?"
"Surprising you for your birthday," said Mary once he finally let go. She let her eyes soak him in, trying to catalogue every change that she hadn't noticed over FaceTime. Oddly enough, he didn't seem different at all; just the same Tom, looking extremely happy. "I only hope it's a pleasant one."
"Are you kidding? Of course it is! You know I've missed you!"
It was as if he had never left. The conversation flowed easily, Tom carrying George around on his shoulders and complaining about how much he had grown. Sybbie enthusiastically showed off her room to them both. Mary helped Tom with dinner (or rather, she stood around and talked with him about everything at home as he prepared the meal).
Sybbie agreed to share her room with George, prompting Tom to blow up an air mattress for him. "Do you want to watch her tomorrow?" asked Tom after they had settled the children down. He poured them glasses of whiskey, apologizing preemptively for the lack of wine.
"Of course. She can show the city off to me."
Tom chuckled. "I'm afraid she hasn't had many chances for exploring. I took her to the zoo one weekend, and we went to a museum once, but I've been busy with work. We mostly go over to Amy and Liam's."
"And it sounds as if you're about to be even busier," Mary said, thinking of his upcoming move. Already she had noticed there were boxes slowly being packed. She hesitated for a moment before asking, "But you are happy, aren't you?"
He nodded... but Mary wasn't sure if she quite believed him. "I like feeling like I'm doing something important," he said, taking a sip of whiskey. "That I'm bettering the world, at least in my own small way."
"I'd hardly call it small," said Mary softly, surprised by how dismayed she was to hear him put his career down. "Weren't you telling me just the other day that the future president was calling 'very rude' on Twitter? I'd say you're making some waves."
Tom chuckled. "He called me 'very mean man'. And I suppose I am making an impact, but... I miss Downton far more than I ever realized I would." Mary didn't realize she had begun holding her breath. "I miss that bench I would go to when I was feeling down, I miss Mrs. Patmore's cooking... and most of all, I miss the people." When he said that, he met her eyes. Her heart clenched. "I've even started dreaming about it. Is that silly?"
"Not at all."
He cracked a small smile before sipping his whiskey again. "I'm glad you're here, though." He leaned back on his couch. "I really have missed you... more than anyone else."
Though she couldn't help but be pleased by that admission, it was also a touch too emotional for her contend with. "What about George?" She teased.
"You and George are tied. Obviously." He gave her a strangely dopey smile. It occurred to Mary that perhaps the whiskey was working faster in loosening his tongue. She would have to remember that... "But please... don't tell anyone else?"
"What a shame," teased Mary, smirking. "And here I thought I'd have a chance to gloat to Edith..."
It struck Mary as strange when she finally settled into the futon in the guest bedroom, how comfortable she was. Maybe it was the jet-lag, but Mary had expected to be all out of sorts upon finding herself in Tom's new home... but with him and Sybbie here, it merely felt like an extension of home.
January 17, 2017
MAMA: Phyllis is engaged!
MAMA: 💒👰 ❤️
MARY: Be sure to extend my congratulations. To whom?
MAMA: Mr Molesley... The teacher 👨 🏫 NOT Granny's gardener! That's his father!
Mary blinked. She knew Molesley— He was a history teacher at the local school and always volunteered to be an additional tour guide during the summer holidays when the tourists were in full swing. She just hadn't realized that he knew Phyllis... she would have to ask Thomas about it in more detail.
MARY: Do they want to marry at Downton or do they have another venue in mind?
She figured this was the reason Mama was telling her about her assistant's engagement. Mary knew Phyllis, of course, and thought she was a nice woman, but she didn't really know her very well.
MAMA: I don't know her. Will have to ask her.
MARY: Well, be sure to let me know as soon as possible so we could book them. Reservations for weddings are filling up quickly this year.
MAMA: OK 👍
February 2, 2017
"Oh my God, I just love it!" squealed Rose, running to hug Mary. "You look stunning!"
"It's not too drastic?" asked Mary, pleased by the expressions of astonishment everyone in her family was wearing. Rose was the only one responding with any enthusiasm, whereas everyone else seemed to be in various stages of shock. George, of course, had been present for the hair cut, and his reaction had still been entertaining.
"Oh, no, of course not!" Rose studied her. "You look like one of those flappers from the twenties! I absolutely adore it!"
Mama's "You look very nice, dear," didn't quite ring true and Granny's remark about how she looked unrecognizable was hardly a compliment, but Mary was pleased. She liked creating a stir, doing the unexpected. As long as she remained unpredictable, she could never be boring.
However, Edith's reaction was unexpected. "Do you really think that is appropriate?" She hissed, obviously disgruntled as she began cutting the cake.
"What are you talking about?"
Edith scoffed. "Honestly, only you would debut a new hairstyle on a two year old's birthday!" Before Mary could let out a laugh, Edith fixed her with a furious glare, "You ruined enough of my birthdays. Can't Marigold have one that isn't spoiled by her selfish, attention-seeking aunt?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "I needed a hair cut, Edith. How does my hair spoil things for your daughter?" Maybe it wasn't the best idea, antagonizing Edith as she wielded a knife, but she couldn't resist adding, "I doubt Marigold even realizes it's her birthday, and there's no way she'll remember it." When Edith continued to say nothing, Mary spitefully added, "If anyone is liable to ruin her day, it's you. I know I wouldn't want a Mummy who was no fun."
The look in Edith's eyes was almost murderous. "Shut your mouth!" Her exclamation drew the attention of all attendees, including poor Jack, who looked stunned. Though he had been with Rose for quite some time, he hadn't exactly witnessed any of the famous Crawley sister fights. "You don't know how hard it is, being both a mother and father to a child—"
"I don't know?" demanded Mary, now truly angry. Edith might be the host of the Agony Olympics, but Mary was fairly confident she could win gold in this category. "In case you've forgotten, my husband is dead! I'd say I know plenty about raising a child on my own!"
"Up until now, you've always had Tom to deal with all the difficult parts! You've barely had to lift a finger!" Mary saw someone advancing towards them, which came somewhat as a relief.
There were a million awful words on the tip of Mary's tongue but all it took was a reminder that Tom would be displeased if he learned Mary had completely split apart the family to persuade her to hold back. Instead, she demanded to know, "How does my new hair have anything to do with any of this?"
"Edith!" Mama hissed before her sister could respond, now at their side and looking extremely uncomfortable and upset. "May I remind you that Rose has brought Jack along?"
"So?" Edith asked rather nastily. She glared at Mary before saying, "If he wants to be a part of this family, he might as well see what he is getting into."
Mary said nothing, merely rolling her eyes and walking away. She wished Tom were here— not just because she missed him and because she could use his wise words just about now, but because it would have been a marvelous opportunity to demonstrate how Edith was just as liable to start a row as herself.
March 18, 2017
THOMAS: Call me
Those two words sent fear in Mary's heart. She dismissed herself from the couch, where George was watching a cartoon, and stepped into the bathroom. She dialed him immediately.
"What's wrong?" She asked upon him picking up.
"Nothing." She let out a sigh of relief. "For once in my life, I have some good news."
"Oh?" She sat on the toilet lid, now placated.
"Jimmy was just over... and he asked me on a date."
Mary's eyes almost popped it of her head. "Jimmy?" As in Thomas's Jimmy? As in aggressively heterosexual Jimmy Kent? Though, Mary supposed, if he was asking Thomas out a date, it meant he wasn't so aggressively heterosexual after all.
"He's realized he has feelings for me." Thomas sounded like he was in the clouds.
All her fears melted away, Mary smiled. "That's absolutely wonderful! I'm so glad for you!" She had her apprehensions, of course— She still remembered how bad it had been before, how hurt Thomas had been. Still... This boded well.
"Thanks."
"When's the date?"
"Next Tuesday."
Her birthday. Mary's smile faded. She had planned on inviting him and possibly Anna over for some cake and wine to celebrate her thirty-first. She wasn't about to tell him to cancel his plans. "Well, I hope you have fun," she said, crossing her legs and doing her best to not let her disappointment sting. "You had better tell me everything."
"I will. Don't worry."
At least there was that small consolation.
March 29, 2017
ROSE: I have to tell you something
ROSE: Jack just proposed. We're engaged!
MARY: Are you serious?
MARY: Thats wonderful! I'm so happy for you!
ROSE: Thank youuuuu 💖💖 I've never been so happy in my life!
ROSE: It won't be a big wedding, we'll probably just go down to the courthouse and then maybe have a small reception somewhere... but we're going to do it right after I've graduated
MARY: That soon?
ROSE: Why wait?
MARY: As long as you know what you're doing
ROSE: I've never been so sure of anything in my life
ROSE: You can't tell anyone but Jack's mother is sick. His dad can't really look after her by himself, so he's going to move back to Chicago soon. I was already planning on moving back with him but the only difference is we'll be married now
MARY: Really? But what will you do in America?
ROSE: It's America, not the wildness. I'll find something in Chicago. And like I said, I was going to move there, anyway. I really really love him
ROSE: I just already know that I want to be with him forever. He's the one for me. Does that sound crazy?
MARY: Not at all.
ROSE: Also... I don't think I'm going to invite Mummy to the wedding. Is that awful of me?
MARY: Of course not. If anyone tries to make a fuss, I'll support you
ROSE: It's just that she's so mean to me... and I don't want her to say anything awful to Jack. You know how she is and I don't want to deal with that on my wedding day
MARY: I don't blame you at all, Rose. And no one else should either. You're an adult and you're entitled to make the best decisions for yourself
ROSE: Thank you so much Mary. I really can't thank you enough
April 1, 2017
For obvious reasons, Mary thought it was a joke when Mama texted her to let her know Edith was bringing a date to dinner. Her response of "Lol, good one Mama" had not been appreciated.
"What's he like?" Tom asked later once Mary had returned home, leaning against the arm of his couch.
"He's very nice," said Mary, legs curling under her body as she lowered herself to her bed. Truthfully, she was tired of wearing this damn dress, but there was no way she was changing now. She half regretted telling Tom so soon, especially since he was dying to know the details about Edith's mystery boyfriend. "His name's Bertie Pelham and he's a real estate agent in London."
Everyone had adored Bertie; Granny had fawned over how gentlemanly he was, Papa was impressed by the small fortune he had accumulated, and Mama was pleased her daughter was so happy. Mary was just relieved her sister had finally found someone who was roughly her own age and unmarried for once.
The children had liked Bertie, too; he had taken the time to get to know them and play with them, even. Instead of suspecting that he was trying to butter Mama and Papa up, Mary found herself genuinely believing that Bertie wanted to make a good impression on George and Marigold.
"Are they well matched?"
"I think so," said Mary, deciding not to remark that she felt he could do better than Edith. Ever since Tom had left, Edith had been trying her nerves, from Marigold's birthday party to derisive comments here and there about Mary's parenting abilities. "At any rate, they seem happy together."
"I can't believe I didn't know she was seeing somebody," breathed Tom. "How long had it been going on?"
"They met around Christmas in London," explained Mary. She leaned against the headboard before saying, "Don't feel badly about it. I didn't know until today."
"Still," said Tom, gnawing on his bottom lip. "I would have thought she would have mentioned something."
Mary suddenly felt a pang in her heart. Poor Tom... he must feel so isolated. Her resentment towards Edith only festered at the thought of her excluding Tom. "Does she talk to you often?" Mary asked, tone more severe than she had intended it to be.
Tom shrugged. "Here and there. We mainly talk about the news, it seems like." He sounded more than a little sad about it. "She asks about Sybbie, too. I try to send pictures."
Now Mary was all but fuming. Still, she wouldn't let it show. "She still probably talks to you more than she talks to me," she said lightly, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position.
Tom chuckled, but the mirth wasn't there. They chatted a little longer, Tom only hanging up when he realized the time at home. "It's only a Sunday," insisted Mary, settling down on her pillow. "I can sleep in."
"We can talk more in the morning. Get some rest," Tom said firmly, but with great affection. They exchanged farewells and Mary let out a sigh, eyes falling shut. Time to take off this dress...
But before that, she had something she needed to do.
She opened up her texts from Edith, the last one from a month ago when she reminded Mary about Marigold's birthday party.
MARY: Just because Tom doesn't live near us anymore doesn't mean he doesn't care. He's really hurt that he had to find about your new boyfriend secondhand, so you really should talk to him.
With no qualms about her wording or her tone, Mary hit the send button and sat up, hands already moving unzip her dress.
April 19, 2017
Mary lifted the fork to her mouth, watching her family. Rose looked radiant, still in her wedding dress and the family tiara still perched on her head. George and Marigold were chasing one another through the room, Mama and Papa were chatting with Shrimpie, and Jack's parents were huddled over near Granny and Isobel.
The cake was good, Mary would admit, raising another bite to her lips. She normally partial to chocolate cake, but this was scrumptious. Mrs. Patmore had really outdone herself this time.
Someone tapped Mary on the shoulder. She hoped it wasn't Edith...
"Oh my God!" She nearly dropped the plate to the ground, uncaring that her voice had attracted so much attention. She sat her cake down, pulling him in for a hug and kissed his cheek. "What are you doing here?"
"I hope you aren't disappointed," Tom teased.
"Of course I'm not!" Mary was still astonished and perplexed to see him here, looking so well...
Sybbie was hugging her knees, looking far too grown up. "And what about you? I thought I told you to stop growing!"
"I like your hair!" Sybbie blurred out, seemingly out of nowhere. "It's pretty!"
"It does look nice," admitted Tom, and Mary grinned. "It looks even better in person."
Soon the whole family had gathered around Tom and Sybbie— Rose and Jack, thank God, didn't seem to mind their reception being overshadowed. Introductions were made for Bertie and Tom, hugs were exchanged, and Mary's cheeks had begun to hurt from all the smiling, still in shock that he was here...
"How long are you planning on staying?" Papa asked him, clapping a hand on Tom's back.
"Forever, if you'll have me," Tom said, now making eye contact with Mary. "You don't mind me moving back in, do you?"
"Of course not!" Words couldn't begin to express the joy she felt.
"What about your job? In Washington?" asked Edith, sounding amazed.
Tom shook his head. "It wasn't the right fit for me... and I realized this place really is my home... and you're my family."
Mary's smile only grew.
