A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for the lovely reviews! The site was super glitchy last week so I am hoping we don't run into the same error again. If it does happen, though, you can find me and this story on AO3. My username is the same there as it is here.
New Normal
Chapter Eighteen
Tom wanted to drive her to the doctor's appointment but Mary insisted he stay home. "If you come, we'll need to bring the children, and then we'll have to tell them unless we want to lie."
Tom was rather put out. "Why can't we tell them now? They'll have to learn sooner or later."
"It's too soon! I don't even know how far along I am, but it can't be too far... and if I— if I lose the baby, I don't want them to be upset."
Tom hadn't seemed to consider that. Mary only had because her mind always jumped to the worst case scenarios and the possibility of losing their baby already terrified her. He eyed her stomach with concern. "Do you... do you think...?"
"I'm not sure. That's why I'm going to the doctor. To find out what is going on for sure and make sure he or she is healthy." Tom seemed morose... she so badly wanted to close the gap between them with a kiss but suspected such a gesture would be unwelcome. Their lips hadn't met in days, not since she had learned of her pregnancy, which had seemed to superimpose a sort of celibacy. She wasn't a fan of it, but she wasn't really sure if Tom was still interested in sex with her now. Everything had changed. "I'll tell you everything. I promise. And if I'm far enough along, we'll have an ultrasound!"
This seemed to cheer him up slightly. However, when the day of the appointment came, Tom was near neurotic. "Do you have your mask?"
"Yes."
"And your gloves?"
Mary grimaced just thinking about the bright yellow monstrosities Tom wore when he was cleaning the dishes. They didn't have any surgical gloves but Tom was adamant that she cover every inch of herself as a preventive measure. "Yes," Mary replied wearily.
"Hand sanitizer? Wet wipes?"
Mary had to use an enormous amount of self restraint to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "In the car."
Tom beamed. "Good. Please stay safe, all right?"
Her annoyance ebbed away in that single
moment. "I'll do everything in my power," she assured him. Now felt like the time for a kiss... even just on the cheek... but nothing happened. And nothing would happen. "I'll see you later," she said, smiling before leaving the house and hopping into the car.
It was an early morning appointment— planned specifically so the children would hopefully never realize Mary had been away. Mary bit back a groan of exasperation when she saw her father driving down the opposite side of the road, waving out the window at her. He was supposed to be staying home, dammit, he was most at risk! Mary gritted her teeth before realizing that now she would be subjected to questions about where she was going... At least she had plenty of time to think up a convincing lie.
Mary checked into Dr. Ryder's office over the phone before entering the building. A nurse lead her back to a room, asking her questions about her cycle and whatnot before Dr. Ryder came to see her.
"It's lovely to see you again, Mary. I understand you believe you're pregnant?"
"Yes," she said, smiling, though she knew he couldn't see it from behind her mask. "I've taken three tests, all of them positive."
"Well, we'll find out for sure today, won't we?" He said cheerfully.
Tests were done and it was determined that her suspicions and the tests at home were correct; Mary was pregnant. "You're about eight weeks along, which means we can do an ultrasound and you can hear the heartbeat," he informed her, much to her delight.
Mary recorded the heartbeat on her Voice Memos app for Tom's benefit, in awe. She wished he could be here to listen to it himself. "Hmm," said Dr. Ryder.
"What? Is something the matter?" Mary's hand instinctively went to her stomach, before hitting the button to stop recording. Already she was protective of this new life forming within her. Was something wrong? She thought about those worries she had expressed to Tom, wondering if she had somehow predicted it.
Dr. Ryder shook his head. "Let's get that ultrasound, shall we?"
While everything was being arranged, Dr. Ryder made small talk with her. "You haven't remarried, have you?" He had seen her since Matthew's death.
Mary shook her head. "Not yet."
"No judgement!" Dr. Ryder said, raising his hands up in the air. "But I take it there is a special man in your life."
Mary nodded, thinking of Tom. Regardless of her own personal fears about her own place in his life, she didn't doubt he would be
amazing father to their baby. "Yes. He is very special."
"And he's going to be there for you and the baby?"
"Yes, he is."
"That's just what I like to hear," said the doctor, maneuvering the transducer over her stomach. "Look up at the screen."
Mary turned her head. It was a silver toned mess— it had taken Dr. Ryder pointing George out for her to even see anything during her first ultrasound. "Look right here—" said Dr. Ryder, pointing one gloved finger at a grey blob, "and here," gesturing to a second.
Mary frowned. What was it?
"Just as I suspected." He grinned behind his mask. "Congratulations, Mary. You're having twins."
Twins. Mary sat out in the parking lot, unmoving and in shock. She had removed her mask and those horrible gloves ages ago. They were going to have twins.
Eyes wide, she stared down at her stomach. How had this happened? Twins. When she had thought about how it wasn't possible to make another baby, she didn't realize they already had another baby.
Mary learned her head against the steering wheel. What were they going to do? One baby brought plenty of chaos and changes, but two... Groaning, she checked her phone. She had three texts— from Papa, Anna, and Tom.
PAPA: Saw u just now. Where r u going?
MARY: You shouldn't be texting and driving. Or going out in the middle of a pandemic. You have preexisting health conditions.
She would worry about coming up with a lie later. He needed a ticking off.
ANNA: How did the appointment go? xx
MARY: Well. There is definitely a baby and we're healthy! xx
She could tell Anna the big news later— Dr. Ryder said twins didn't always show up in the first ultrasound. She could announce it later— after she had a chance to tell Tom first.
TOM: Everything okay?
MARY: Yes. I'll be home soon.
Twins. They were going to have twins. With a shaky breath, Mary started up the car.
Sybbie and George were awake once she arrived home. "Where were you?" Sybbie demanded almost as soon as she came through the front door. "We aren't allowed to go out!"
"I know, darling," said Mary. "I had to go to a doctor's appointment." Tom met her eye, seeming surprised by her honesty. Mary shrugged minutely, figuring that she might as well keep things as close to the truth as possible.
"Do you have COVID?" George practically screeched, backing away from her.
"No, my stomach was bothering me. That's all." Mary figured that her stomach would be bothering her soon enough... "I have some medicine now to stop it." Mary sat a bottle of prenatal vitamins on the counter, a purchase from the chemist's. "I'm alright. I promise." She planned on telling her father the same story— the last thing he would suspect was pregnancy.
Once the children had gone off to entertain themselves, Mary made eye contact with Tom before beckoning him towards the stairs. When they were in the safety of their bedroom, Mary blurted out, "Twins!"
Tom's eyes widened. "What?"
"We're having twins!" She reached for her purse, pulling out the copy of the ultrasound. "See!" She jabbed at what she assumed were the babies... though truthfully she wasn't sure.
Tom looked like he was going to faint. "Twins?"
"Twins!"
"I've got to sit down," said Tom, staggering over to the bed before flopping down on his back. Mary joined him but she remained upright.
"Are you alright?" She asked finally.
"Yeah," said Tom. "It's just... Twins."
"Twins."
They sounded like parrots, just repeating it over and over. All Mary could think was they were going to have to buy double of everything... and have double the trouble. Sybbie and George, even at their sweetest, could be a handful. What would they do with two that were like her and Tom?
"Well... at least we have practice with two babies at once," Tom pointed out, pushing himself to an upright position.
"You do. I just laid here."
"And you can do it again right after you've given birth," Tom assured.
Mary was still astonished that he was still imagining himself here. Obviously she hadn't expected Tom to abandon her, not completely... but she didn't expect him to be so enthusiastic about living with her, now that things would never be normal between them again... "No. I'll help this time. As long as..." She couldn't bear to finish the sentence. If something were to happen to Tom... well, then she really wouldn't make it back to the land of the living. Losing one man she loved was bad enough.
Tom turned to look at her. "Nothing will happen to you," he whispered. "You— you were fine with George."
Mary realized what she had said. "I was thinking about you," she said, without thinking about what she was saying. She cursed herself the moment the words came out of her mouth. She might as well have confessed her love right there and then!
Tom didn't seem to comprehend the gravity of her admission. His fearful expression softened, Adam's apple bobbing as he reached for her hand. "I'll be by your side the whole time... even in the months leading up to it. I'll stay home so I can drive you there... and then I won't leave."
Mary turned away, not wanting him to see her tears. God, she wasn't even that far along and she kept crying at the drop of a hat. Unable to say anything, she squeezed his hand. Thank you.
"At least we have two cribs already," Mary said once she composed herself. "And I saved most of George's clothes..."
"I have all of Sybbie's," confirmed Tom. He grinned suddenly before saying, "But something tells me we'll be buying new clothes anyway."
"Of course we will," said Mary, arching an eyebrow. "We can't have them looking shabby, can we?" Tom laughed just before she added, "And depending on the sexes, we may need more..."
"It's 2020, Mary. I don't think it would kill us to dress our baby boys in their sister's clothes," Tom said flatly, but Mary knew he was teasing her.
"Fair point... but who says we're having baby boys? Perhaps we'll have baby girls?" Suddenly, Mary could picture them... two little girls with brown hair, identical and in matching dresses— except Mary would never dress her children in matching outfits, not after all those photo shoots Mama has arranged with her and Edith in identical outfits. The girls vanished.
"Well, we won't know. Not for a while yet... right?"
"Right," answered Mary. "It's still too soon."
He paused. "Do you want to find out? When it's time?"
"I suppose so. It doesn't really matter, not in the grand scheme of things, but it's always fun to find out," said Mary, watching his face carefully. "Do you?"
Tom shrugged. "I don't know... probably." He paused. "We didn't find out. Sybil and I. She didn't want to know. She didn't want our baby imposed by societal expectations so it was all gender neutral."
He spoke as if Mary wasn't aware, but she couldn't help but smile as if she was hearing it for the first time. "Classic Sybil. Always ahead of the rest of us." Mary paused. "Whatever we do, we aren't having a gender reveal. The last thing we need to do is set fire to Downton."
"God, no." They both laughed, Mary's head tipping to the side and her forehead resting on his shoulder. Their hands were still linked together.
The nausea that had been irritating her steadily increased until it was full blown morning sickness. The first time it happened, she found herself horribly embarrassed as she hunched over the toilet on her knees as Tom rushed in after her. "No," she said in between heaves, the chill from the tile cool against her bare knees. "Get out. I don't want you to see me like this."
But Tom didn't leave. He crouched down behind her, grabbing her hair and holding it while rubbing her back. It made Mary want to cry, both because of how mortifying all this was and because how thoughtful he was being... but mostly the former. In fact, there were some tears in her eyes when she finally slumped over, but she figured that was because of her gag reflex. Tom let her hair go and squeezed her right shoulder before helping her to her feet. Eyes closed and trying to steady her breathing, Mary listened to the sound of running water until Tom padded back over to her with a glass full.
"Thanks," she said finally, gladly rinsing her mouth out. She spat it into the toilet before flushing it, rising to her feet. Tom was still behind her, watching her nervously.
"Are you alright?"
"It's just morning sickness. I'll be fine." She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant before walking over to the sink, grabbing her toothbrush and toothpaste. It had happened when she was pregnant with George, of course, and all she had needed to do was adjust her diet accordingly. She was going to be fine. Tom's eyes seemed to linger on her... well, her and her stomach, as if he could look in and see the babies. It made for a less than comfortable experience and as soon as she was done, she said, "I need to get dressed," and rose to her feet.
George and Sybbie were playing outside as Mary inspected the outside of the house, frowning and trying to determine the best possible place to add on. It was looking more and more likely that businesses would reopen soon and a contractor could be hired to add onto the house. Money wasn't an issue, thankfully, it was simply of where the best location would be.
"I don't know how we're going to add three bedrooms onto this house," she complained once Tom joined her, asking her what she was doing. "The children still need enough room to play outside... unless we added to the second story..."
"Three bedrooms? Is there another baby you haven't told me about?" Tom asked. Even though he was joking, she could hear the slight fear in his voice.
"I doubt the twins will want to share forever," she elaborated. "You and I haven't personally experienced fraternal bliss—" Tom made a face, likely thinking of his occasionally prickly relationship with his brother Kieran, "—and if George and Sybbie can grow tired of one another, then... well." She eyed her stomach. "Knowing our luck, they'll be trying to leave early so they can get away from one another. Nine months in my uterus is a long time to share."
"But why three?" Tom began counting on his fingers. "One for Sybbie, one for George, one each for the babies when they're big enough... and we've already got two rooms."
"I thought you might want to return to your old room once we can add on," said Mary, growing uncomfortable. She hadn't even considered the possibility that Tom was fine with their current sleeping arrangement, especially when he had been so reluctant a few months ago. It was thin ice they were treading but Mary knew she had to ask: "Do you want to stay in my room?"
Tom blinked, lips curving downward. Mary felt disheartened already— of course he'd say no, she chastised herself, feeling like a fool to even believe there was the slightest possibility Tom would want to continue sharing a room and a bed with her. Nothing had happened in days. "Do you want me to?"
"I asked first." Mary knew she sounded like a petulant child but she refused to answer his question— because of course the answer was yes.
"It's your room, Mary. I don't want to intrude," Tom said, perfectly diplomatic and annoyingly level. "It'll be convenient for when we need to take care of the babies in the night at the start, but we can easily use George's room for a nursery instead as a place in the middle once they are old enough."
Why couldn't he just give her a straight answer? Mary's hands clenched, jaw tightening before she dismissively said, "I don't give a damn where you sleep, Tom."
She regretted it the moment the words left her lips. Tom looked as if she had slapped him. Still, she found herself remaining silent, even though her mind screamed at her to apologize. Mary turned away, schooling her face into one of indifference. "Let me know when you have an answer," was all she said before walking away, leaving him outside while she went back in the house.
She was the first to go to bed that night, trying to remain confident in herself and her stance. Why should she feel guilty about Tom's indecision? He was the one who needed to make the choice— not her. She wasn't going to make him stay in her bed with her, not if he didn't want to. He went on and on about convenience and whatnot... but she wasn't going to make the decision for him.
Still, she couldn't help but think about the expression on his face. She hated knowing she had upset him. Mary flopped back with a sigh. Why was she like this?
She laid in bed, propped against the pillows when Tom entered the room, looking at his phone... and not at her. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She said nothing, pretending to peer down at her own phone but watching as he shuffled into the bathroom. When the door closed shut, Mary shifted in the bed.
She heard the shower turn on. Mary sighed, kicking at the sheets. Prolonging this was driving her insane. She didn't like having this rift between them... but she didn't know how to express herself without messing things up.
Though... perhaps there was a way to ease things.
It was hidden in the back of her drawers, the tags still on them. Mary had purchased the matching black lace thong and bra for her honeymoon with Henry, but obviously this had never panned out. She changed into them quickly, wishing she had a mirror to check how she looked.
It was a bit of a gamble. They hadn't made love in over a week— which seemed like forever, considering that before learning of the pregnancy they had scarcely gone a day without. A part of her wondered if it was really wise, doing this, but dammit, Mary wanted to fix this between them get things back to the way they had been.
Tom emerged from the bathroom some fifteen minutes later, only to freeze in place. He was silent, eyes roving over Mary, who was sprawled across the bed. She felt both gratified and nervous as the silence stretched on, fairly confident he was appreciating her efforts. "What's this?" He managed finally, voice low.
"Do you like it?" asked Mary, smooth and collected, inwardly desperately hoping the answer was yes.
"Like it?" Tom let out a shaky laugh. He took a couple steps towards her, causing her heart to start beating faster in anticipation. "I love it."
Love. That one word undid her. The veneer of self assuredness slipped away. Coy smile gone, Mary spoke honestly when she murmured, "Why don't you show me?"
Tom wasted no time doing just that. Soon his fingers were caressing her through the fabric as his lips concentrated on her neck. Mary gasped and moved her hips, desperate for friction. It wasn't until he had pulled her underwear down that Mary finally felt her breath coming in short pants, close to ecstasy. She cried out, powerless to stop herself, but Tom muffled the sound by moving his lips to cover hers, kissing her deeply.
Once the aftershocks had stopped and Mary returned to reality, she realized Tom was still fully clothed. Her hands moved down his body to pull his shirt over his head and dip her hand into his sweatpants, seeking him out easily. It was his turn now to moan as Mary stroked him slowly.
"Mary... Mary, stop," Tom said after a long while in a strained voice. Mary ceases her ministrations as Tom tried to steady his breath. He kissed her again, lips trailing down her neck again. When he reached her breasts, he slid his hand behind her to undo the clasp of her bra.
After long last, Tom removed the last of his clothing before sliding into her and Mary was wrapping her legs around his hips. All she could think was Why did we ever stop doing this? Why had they deprived themselves for so long? It seemed mad, in retrospect, to have ever stopped in the first place.
Tom clearly had missed it as much as she had, if his enthusiasm was anything to go by. Even as their hips rocked together, he kissed every inch of her skin available to him. His voice was ragged in her each when he said, "Touch yourself."
Mary didn't need to be told twice. She was already close again. She reached down between them and her breath came in short pants. It didn't take long until they both hit their peak, eyes locked before Tom kissed her again.
When it was over, Mary let her eyes fall shut as Tom practically collapsed on top of her, his head on her collarbone. "I'm sorry," he said against her skin, causing her eyes to open wide again. He had never spoken to her after— not ever. "I'll move in a minute. It just— it took a lot out of me this time."
"Don't apologize," she said without thinking— then, when her brain had caught up, she said, "I quite understand."
She felt him smile and he laughed, his breath warm against her. Mary hesitated, wondering if she would be crossing some line before reminding her that they had crossed that bridge long ago, and then let her hand snake up his back before running her fingers through his hair. Tom relaxed under her touch, letting out what sounded like a contented sigh.
It felt so familiar, Mary mused, as if they had done this a million times before, yet it still thrilled her. Basking in the warmth, she felt more complete than she had in years... as if she was where she was meant to be.
"I think we should tell the children. About the babies," she found herself saying.
Tom lifted his head up, supporting himself with his arms. "Do you mean it?" He sounded so excited, like a child on Christmas morning. When Mary nodded, he lit up. "Can we tell them tomorrow?"
"Of course," she said. He could have asked her anything in that moment and would have agreed. "It's about time they knew." She doubted it would be much longer before they could hide it— there would need to be plenty of changes that took place before they arrived and they would catch on sooner or later.
"Tomorrow morning, then," said Tom, rolling off of her. She mourned the loss of him but said nothing, rolling on her side so she could at least still look at them. Tom met her eyes before reaching out and drawing her closer to him. Mary closed her eyes, embracing the moment.
The following morning, Mary woke up, face pressed against Tom's chest, and frantic. She rolled over, reaching for her phone, Googling how to tell your kids youre pregnant.
Tom awoke a short time later, finding her engrossed in a blog post, breaking down the best ways to tell children of certain ages. "Morning," he said, voice pleasantly low.
Mary turned her head, meeting his eye. "Good morning." Then, meeting his eye, she decided to lean over, brushing her lips against his. He didn't pull away... but he didn't exactly respond with any real passion, either. Embarrassed, Mary extricated from him.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing," lied Mary, shifting herself. Then, figuring she needed to say something, she said, "I'm just a little worried about telling Sybbie and George today, that's all. I wanted to distract myself." It wasn't exactly a lie... but obviously it wasn't the truth, either. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted their kiss to lead to more...
"You're phone isn't enough?" If she wasn't mistaken, he sounded somewhat pleased... and a little bit smug.
"I'm looking up tips on how to pull it off, actually. So no, it's not really a distraction." She scrolled down, not really reading the words.
He paused. Then, "What are you worried about?" There was no accusation, no irritation, simply curiosity. "You don't think they'll react badly, do you?"
Mary glanced up, turning off her screen off. "A little," she acknowledged. "It's only ever been the four of us." Except for when it was the five of us, she amended, thinking of Matthew's all too brief roles in their respective infancies. "It will be a big adjustment for them." Tom nodded. "And... and I'm sure they'll have questions as well. As to... as to how they are getting another sibling."
"Oh." Tom blinked. "I hadn't even thought of that." He now looked a little green... probably horrified at the idea of giving his daughter The Talk.
"I don't think we need to delve in too deep," said Mary hastily. She blamed Papa's influence on her upbringing and society in general for her seeming inability to speak lengthily on these topics. "But I want to be prepared."
"Yes. Of course." Tom leaned back now, a somewhat haunted look in his eyes. It was a touch melodramatic but Mary quite understood his predicament. She wasn't about to gloat at him for being such an optimist and not seeing the problems that could arise; it was one of the things she liked most about him. Nevertheless, George and Sybbie needed to know sooner or later and now was as good a time as any.
Still, Mary couldn't resist smiling. "Now you look like you could use a distraction." She'd meant for it to sound teasing, playful at most, but it came out more coquettish than intended.
She didn't have any time to switch to another tone before Tom glanced over, a new look in his eyes. "Suppose I do."
"Then I'm happy to oblige," she uttered before leaning forward to kiss him. This time he kissed her back.
As predicted, George and Sybbie were full of questions. "Will we have to share a room with them?" Sybbie asked, sounding afraid that she might lose her new sanctuary.
"No," said Mary, relieved by how easy it was to explain this to them. "When the addition is built into the house, we'll make sure there is enough rooms for everyone."
"When will they get here?" was George's question.
"Probably sometime in January," Mary replied. Her due date was on the twentieth of that month but Dr. Ryder had already told her how twins liked coming early. She hoped it wouldn't be too soon— not because she didn't want to meet them, but because with everything going on, she wasn't certain how safe the world would be for a baby. Even though things were looking better now, it wasn't impossible that a second wave could come and they would have to return to an even more restrictive life style.
George let out a groan. Mary was horrified, ready to launch into a speech with a message like I'll still love you once the babies are here, but then George whined, "Next year? But I want to meet them now!"
"They aren't ready yet, George," Tom stepped in, and Mary was grateful that he did. "They need to do a lot of growing first. They're just tiny."
George let out a grumble but said nothing more. Sybbie, however, now wondered, "Why are you having babies now?"
Mary steeled herself up, already horrified. Tom looked similarly stunned but managed to say, "You aren't looking forward to having new siblings?"
"I am, but why right now?"
"Well... why not?" Tom said, voice bordering on squeaky. Mary might have laughed if she didn't pity him so. "We're all at home... we'll be able to spend plenty of time with them. Babies need a lot of looking after."
Worried Sybbie might start asking more questions, Mary jumped in with, "Would you two like to see the pictures I have of them?" Without waiting for an answer, she rose to her feet. "I'll go get them."
Thankfully, seeing the babies caused Sybbie to be more excited rather than pessimistic. "That's so weird," she said, though she sounded more in awe than judgemental. "How did they get pictures?"
Mary explained as best as she could, enlightening the children. Halfway through, Mary noticed a curious look on Tom's face.
Gradually, Mary found herself spending more and more time in the bathroom. It had evolved from morning sickness into morning, afternoon, and early evening sickness. Certain smells would set her off, usually food, which always made her feel terrible when she fled the table after Tom presented her with dinner, especially since he almost always followed after to make sure she was okay. "Your food's fine," Mary assured him, voice shaky as she flushed the toilets. "It's just— the babies—"
"So we'll have two picky eaters?" Tom said, smiling down at her stomach.
"I'm sure once they leave the womb, they'll be less selective," she said before rinsing her mouth out.
However, when four days had passed and Mary was making several trips a day to the bathroom, Tom waited until she was over before saying, "Something's wrong here."
"Don't be melodramatic. It's perfectly normal," Mary said, against her own intuition. She couldn't bear the thought of something being wrong.
He shook his head. "Not like this. Can I have your phone? I want to call your doctor."
"I'm fine," insisted Mary, but after a pathetic little argument, Mary caved. "It's on my nightstand," she told him. "You know the passcode already. His name is Dr. Ryder."
Of course, the doctor wasn't able to respond just yet so they were left to twiddle their thumbs— Mary did a load of laundry and Tom, resigned to the fact it would be a while, sat down and did some work. It wasn't until mid afternoon that Dr. Ryder called back... but by that time Mary had already thrown up again. Even she was willing to admit that something might be wrong, especially when the world didn't quite seem there and her whole body was tired. Tom practically forced her into the bed, ordering her to rest until they had news, and Mary had resignedly accepted her fate.
"I understand Tom's concerned about the frequency of your morning sickness?" said the doctor, who was on speakerphone so Tom could hear.
"Yes," said Mary, rolling her eyes. "I'm on bedrest until you set me free."
"And he is the babies' father, correct?"
"That's right," said Mary, settling against the pillows.
"Alright. Good. I just wanted to check."
After describing her symptoms, Dr. Ryder concluded that thanks to the twins, there was an increase in hormones which was leading to severe morning sickness. "As you know, it will fade away with time, but in cases like this, we don't want to run the risk of dehydration and subsequent hospitalization... especially not in times like this."
"Of course not," said Mary, dreading the thought of going into a hospital right now. That was the last thing they needed.
"I can prescribe you some medication to alleviate the nausea and you can pick it up as soon as possible."
After confirming all the details and hanging up, Tom volunteered to pick up the prescription. "You don't have to do that," insisted Mary.
"I want to... and you need some rest, anyway. I don't want you getting run down."
"Very well," she acquiesced. "I'll stay right here."
Tom smiled at her, reaching out and squeezing her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. "I'll be back soon," he promised her before leaving.
Mary was examining her phone when the door swung open, revealing George and Sybbie. "Hello," said Mary as they both climbed up into her bed. "What brings the two of you here?"
"Daddy said you weren't feeling well," Sybbie informed her, crawling into Tom's side of the bed. "We wanted to see you."
Mary couldn't help but smile. "I'm alright. It's just the babies. Once I get my medicine, I'll feel much better."
Sybbie glared at her stomach. "Why would they do that?" She demanded.
"It's just what happens when you're pregnant. You'll find out for yourself... if you want to, that is," said Mary hastily, knowing Sybil would be disappointed if Mary knew she was pushing stereotypical gender expectations on her daughter.
"I don't want to have a baby! Not if they make you throw up!" declared Sybbie, still looking at her stomach as if it had done something to personally offended her. Mary wondered if maybe something similar had happened with her when Mama was pregnant with Edith... it would explain a lot of things... Mary was suddenly worried she might have taste of her own medicine if Sybbie had a personal vendetta against her siblings before they were even born.
"Well, like I said, you don't have to if you don't want to. But it happens. It's a part of life," said Mary, trying to smooth out when felt like an absolute disaster.
George was peering at her curiously. "How do they fit it in there?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, as if that would clear things up.
"They just can," said Mary, far too squeamish to contemplate explaining the female reproductive system to her six year old son. It was too complex a conversation to have just yet and one she was unprepared for.
Mary grateful when Tom came home, relieved to no longer have to answer prying questions. "Let Mary rest now," he told them, "I'll be down in a while. You two can watch a movie."
Mary was a little sad to see them go but also somewhat relieved as Tom presented her with the medication. "How are you feeling?"
Mary shrugged before easing down more on the pillow. "No worse but no better."
Tom gave her a strange look, much like the one he had worn when she was showing the children the sonogram. "I'll get you a cup of water."
It was times like these, when he looked after her with such tenderness and such care, that Mary began to wonder if he reciprocated her feelings, even in some small way. Maybe Anna hadn't been wrong... perhaps there was more there after all.
