A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I really do appreciate it!


New Normal

Chapter Nineteen

It would have been too much to expect things would stay serene for long. Home was basically a utopia— Mary was surrounded by the people she loved most, she had medication for her nausea, and work was slowly starting again. The blog detailing her childhood at Downton was a success and while tours were on halt, the gift shop had transferred online. Carson, his wife Mrs. Hughes, and the Molesleys had generously offered to each go in twice a week each to package boxes and ship them out.

Mary was in the midst of reading over Thomas's concerns about the new website design when she heard small feet running down the hall.

"Mum! Mum!"

Mary looked up from her laptop, horrified when she saw George crying. "What's the matter?" She asked, setting the laptop aside to dangle her legs off the edge of the bed and hug her son. "What's happened?"

He handed her phone to her, sniffling. "I'm sorry!" He wailed.

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

"I told Nana!" George wiped away tears with the back of his hand, sobbing loudly. "I didn't mean to! It just came out!"

"Told Nana what?" Mary asked, a sinking feeling of dread already in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew what George had revealed but needed to have it confirmed.

"About the babies!" George was nearly hysterical by this point, his words reaching a full on screech in her ear. Mary felt nauseated... but this time it wasn't morning sickness. "Please don't be mad at me!"

"I'm not mad," Mary assured him, pulling him tighter. She tugged him up ever so slightly, letting him sit on her lap. He was almost getting too big for this now, but Mary kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair regardless. "It's okay. I know it was an accident."

"I didn't mean to," he said, voice muffled in her neck as he pressed his face there. "She wanted to know why I was so happy... and it just came out!" A fresh batch of tears started up.

Mary held him closer, trying to put aside her own fears. "It's okay, Georgie." She swallowed. "I'm glad you're excited about them. You're going to be a good big brother."

"Am I in trouble?"

Mary shook her head. "No. Not at all. Nana was going to find out soon so now is as good a time as any. In fact, you've done us a huge favor." Mary wasn't sure how she could have choked out the news to her mother-in-law. It seemed disrespectful, in a way, to admit she was carrying another man's children but she was determined to make sure George didn't feel bad about any of this. It was too heavy a secret for a six year old to contain for long... it wasn't one he really should have been dealing with.

Finally, once Mary was confident George had recovered, she asked, "Where's everyone else?"

"Daddy's working and Sybbie's playing in her room."

"Maybe you can play with her," suggested Mary. "But remember to be nice."

George nodded before tearing out of the room. Once he was gone, Mary let out a sigh. She pulled out her phone, astonished that there were no attempted calls or any texts from Isobel. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

MARY: Can we talk?

Less than a minute later, her phone rang. "Hello?"

"Mary?"

"Isobel, I'm so sorry. This isn't how I wanted you to find out," Mary apologized profusely. Isobel wasn't perfect by any means, but she had been a loving, wonderful grandmother to both the children and a support for Mary. The fact she remained a part of their lives was a testament to how much she truly meant to them. For her to find out this news secondhand from her exuberant grandson seemed a poor repayment for her generosity.

"I assumed it wouldn't be." Her mother-in-law sounded tense. "I must admit, I was... well, I was shocked."

"I don't blame you." This was likely a horrible realization for Isobel. Mary didn't want to minimize her grief in any way. As Matthew's mother, she had every right to dislike the idea of Mary moving on, even if it was with Tom... never mind that, especially if it was with Tom.

"I am surprised at you, Mary," Isobel scolded her, as though she were speaking to a kindergartner instead of a grown woman. "I thought you would have more sense than this."

Now Mary felt close to tears. "I don't have any excuses for my behavior." If it weren't her own life, Mary wouldn't have believed any of this could be happening. No one could have prepared her younger self for the trajectory she was on.

"I'm glad you don't," said Isobel harshly. "Because I wouldn't listen to them if you did." Before Mary could get in a word edgewise, Isobel continued, "I don't want to shame you for your choices. You are a young woman and I don't expect you to commit to a lifetime of celibacy just because Matthew is gone. It's perfectly natural for you to have a healthy sex life."

Mary was mortified. This is the last conversation she wanted to have with Isobel... she recalled all too well the horror she had felt when, upon learning about hers and Matthew's difficulty to conceive, Isobel had enthusiastically given them several books and began recommending different positions for them to try out. It had taken Matthew's humiliated exclamation of, "Mother!" to stop that conversation from progressing further.

"But I am incredibly disappointed that you broke quarantine in the middle of a global pandemic to practice unsafe sex without considering the health of yourself, my grandson, Tom, and his little girl!" Isobel concluded, causing Mary's eyes to widen. Oh, God... she didn't know!

"Isobel—"

"What were you thinking?" demanded Isobel. "No— don't answer that, I know the answer! You weren't thinking at all!"

Mary knew it was an accurate enough assessment— she hadn't been thinking. This possibility had never entered her mind at any point in time, even though she knew full well it was a likely outcome, and now she was facing the consequences. Nevertheless, Mary was a adult who didn't deserve to be dressed down in this way.

"Isobel, it's not like that!" exclaimed Mary, growing irate. "I haven't compromised anyone's health and as a matter of fact, I was using protection... not that it is any of your business!" she added snidely.

There was silence. "I don't understand. How... how far along are you?"

"Three months."

"Forgive me, my dear," began Isobel, her indignation from earlier gone and replaced by confusion, "but how can you be three months pregnant without having left your home and exposed your household to a deadly virus? It doesn't make any sense."

Mary closed her eyes. This was the part she had dreaded the most... if only Isobel had connected the dots! "Tom's the father."

There was a long silence. Mary checked her phone to make sure Isobel hadn't hung up. Then, "Oh. Oh, I see."

"This isn't how I wanted you to find out about any of this," said Mary firmly. "If I could, I would have sat you down in person and informed you myself. You deserve better than this and I am truly sorry."

"Yes." Isobel sounded far away. "Do your parents know?"

"No. Neither do Granny or Edith." She swallowed. "And I ask that you let me tell them myself."

"Yes. Of course."

"I really am sorry." Mary felt like a parrot, repeating the same phrase over and over again, but she couldn't see to find any other words. None of her guilt ebbed away but she had no idea what she could say to make any of this better.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you are."

Mary blinked back tears. "If you want to be angry with someone, please be upset with me. Don't take it out on the children. It's not their fault."

"No— I wouldn't do that. George... well, George is the last bit of Matthew left. I could never."

"And Sybbie?" asked Mary sharply, maybe more than what was strictly necessary.

"Nor Sybbie," agreed Isobel. "I care for her, too. You know I admired your sister a great deal."

And you're likely revolted that I fell into bed the man she was supposed to be with, thought Mary. Nevertheless, she said, "I understand that this... well, that it's a horrible shock to you... but you are more than welcome to be a part of the babies lives. We'd love you to be another grandmother to them."

"Them?"

"We're having twins."

"Oh my." Isobel sounded winded, as though she had completed a marathon. "Well, this day is full of surprises." Mary didn't know what to say, so she remained quiet until Isobel said, "I shall think about it. I'm still rather... rather shocked by this turn of events. I hope you'll let me have some time to process things."

"Certainly. Of course." They said their goodbyes, neither of them really having the heart to commit to their usual warm farewell, leaving Mary alone now to her thoughts.

She flopped back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. What was she to do? She picked herself up, walking into the bathroom. She stared back at her own reflection. Isobel's baseless accusations had reopened a wounds stretching back nearly fifteen years. Something about the tone of her voice reminded Mary of the maelstrom of rumors surrounding her and Kemal Pamuk... all the judgement, all the whispers... and Edith, doing everything she could to remind her of it.

By the time she reached the bottom of the steps, Mary was quite numb. She walked through the house, finally coming to the office. Tom was typing away on his laptop, barely taking any notice of her until she leaned against the desk. "Hey," he said, smiling, "Everything with the website going well?"

"Isobel knows."

Tom stopped typing. "About...?" His fell to her stomach. Mary nodded. He sighed, pushing his chair back. "Can I ask why you told her before anyone else?"

"I didn't. George did." Tom nodded, seeing what had happened. "It was an accident. I couldn't be mad at him... but it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

"I imagine it wasn't," murmured Tom, lost in his own thoughts. Then, "Are you alright?"

Mary shrugged. "I'm about as well as you can be after a conversation like that."

"I wish you'd told me. I could have helped."

"I didn't want to disturb you. Not while you were working."

"I wouldn't have minded," insisted Tom.

"I know," said Mary, looking down at her bare feet on the hardwood floor. It still bothered her, the conversation with Isobel...

"Did something happen?" Tom asked, seemingly reading her mind. "Did Isobel say something?"

Mary hesitated. It wasn't Isobel's fault... she doubted anyone would have predicted this turn of events. "It's nothing. Really. I just— well, it wasn't a fun conversation to have."

"How did she take it, then?"

"She's in shock... which is hardly a surprise."

"No... I suppose it's understandable." Mary lifted up her head to meet Tom's gaze as he said, "But... can you promise me you'll let me be there for when we tell the rest of your family? I— I want to be able to tell them."

"Of course," said Mary, honestly somewhat relieved. "I didn't mean to have Isobel even know yet... I was just trying to minimize the damage as soon as possible."

Tom nodded, turning back to his laptop. "Do you think we ought to tell the others? Soon?"

Mary wished he hadn't said it. She had been trying to avoid the thought of telling her parents, telling Edith... She wasn't looking forward to everyone knowing about this specific element of hers and Tom's relationship. It was something that had been, up until this point, strictly between them. (Telling Anna didn't count— she was Mary's other best friend.) She wasn't sure what would be worse— them knowing about it or them knowing and believing this was born out of a purely selfish desire to pass time by in quarantine instead of knowing how she really did love him.

Perhaps that was what prompted Mary to ask, without looking at him, "Do you think that maybe we should... should say we are dating? When we tell my parents?"

She ignored the stabbing pain in her chest when she saw Tom's head move back and forth before saying, "We shouldn't lie to them. We owe it to them to be honest."

It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did; she wasn't ignorant to how he felt about her... or rather, how he didn't feel about her. So Mary nodded and said, "Of course. You're right." There were tears swimming in her eyes, so she turned her head away. "I should get back to work."

But Mary didn't immediately get back to work. She stood at the bathroom sink, dabbing her eyes with toilet paper and blowing her nose as she tried to get her emotions under control. She stared into her own eyes, questioning herself, wondering how she could have possibly allowed things to get this far. Her whole life she had been able to keep firm control over herself— so what had happened?

Once the tears subsided, Mary trudged back into her room and finished up her email to Thomas.


After talking it out, Tom and Mary decided that they would tell Mama and Papa on Saturday. Mary asked them if they would be open to another Zoom call, to which her parents enthusiastically agreed.

Mary was an absolute wreck the morning of, doing her make up for the first time in weeks and pulling on a loose fitting red dress. "You don't have to do all this," insisted Tom, observing her in the doorway as she curled her hair. "They're your parents."

"I know. But if I don't do something, I'll be fretting over everything," said Mary, letting one curl fall loose. She screwed up her face; Anna was far better at doing hair than she was. She wished she was here... then she would have someone to voice all her anxieties to besides Tom, who she was certain was growing weary of it... and it probably wasn't helping his nerves, either.

Tom seemed to accept her response, ready to walk out the door. He paused, hand on the bathroom wall, his body halfway out the door, before turning around. "Do you think I should change, then?"

"If you want to. It can't hurt."

When Mary had finished, she found Tom, shirtless, two button downs in front of him on the bed. Her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Which do you think I should wear, then?" he asked, comparing them.

Mary walked over to the bed, absentmindedly playing with her necklace. Their options were between a white and a light blue. "The blue," she decided. "It will bring out your eyes." She was oblivious to the strange look he shot her, mind on too many other things.

She vacuumed the floor and dusted in the living room, even though her parents weren't going to see those surfaces. Tom came down, watching her shoving the coffee table away. "Here— let me do that. You shouldn't be doing that, not with..." he trailed off.

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid," said Mary, though she would begrudgingly admit he was probably right. "That's good," she said, once he had scooted it far enough. "Thanks."

From that point on, Mary was adjusting her laptop so they could both fit in the shot. Sybbie and George were presently tearing around the living room, playing tag with one another. Mary's nerves were beginning to fray under the pressure and Tom sent them outside.

"Breathe," he said, placing a hand on her back— Mary nearly started at the contact. He had forgone these innocent touches in the wake of everything. His hand grounded her back into reality. "Everything will be alright."

"You don't know that," said Mary, slumping forward with her elbows digging into her knees. "They might be furious."

"They might. But that's not what I meant." Mary let her eyes fall shut as he began rubbing her back. "Even if they are upset for a while, they'll come around eventually. These babies will be their grandchildren. They won't be able to be angry forever."

Mary wasn't so sure: the Crawleys weren't always receptive to change and could oftentimes be critical of anything outside the norms they had constructed. Papa could hold a grudge when he wanted to. And Mama... Mary didn't doubt that her mother loved her very much, but she also knew her mother could have her moments where she was incredibly judgmental. After Matthew injured his back and was in his wheelchair with a slim chance of recovery, Mama had only been able to focus on the possibility of grandchildren. And even though she had been one of the first people in the family to welcome Tom in, she had been horrified upon being introduced to him.

"I wish I had your confidence," said Mary, her hand subconsciously falling on his denim clad knee.

Tom's hand left her back to pick up the one on his knee. Mary felt horribly embarrassed, trying to pull it away, only for Tom to squeeze it. "Take it from someone who has been on the receiving end of their wrath more often than you; they will get over it."

Mary laughed. When Tom gave her a quizzical look, she said, "I think it's funny that you think they've been angry at you more than they have at me... as if I didn't live with them for about twenty years."

"Yes, but they loved you. That's different."

"They love you, too," she countered, meeting his gaze.

"Not always. Not at the start."

There was a change on Mary's screen. Mama and Papa were ready. Mary and Tom looked at one another, with equal levels of apprehension. "It's time to face the music," said Mary, turning to the laptop. Tom dropped her hand, much to her dismay, but made up for it as he wrapped an arm around her on the back of the couch.

Mama and Papa's faces appeared on the screen. "Hi!" Mary greeted them with an uncharacteristic cheer. "It's so wonderful to see you!"

"Hello, my dear," Papa said. "Now where are our grandchildren?"

"Robert!" exclaimed Mama.

"Glad to know how you really feel about us," teased Tom, likely trying to preemptively lighten the mood, but the remark made the knots in Mary's stomach twist tighter. Little did he know their grandchildren were present...

"I'm sorry," Papa said, not sounding entirely apologetic. "But I thought we would be seeing them."

"Perhaps when things are over, you can," suggested Tom. Mary thought it was terribly optimistic to assume they wouldn't end the call the minute they found out. "But we've actually got something we wanted to tell you." Her palms were growing sweaty, sticking to the fabric of her dress as Tom prompted her with a, "Mary?"

Mary shot him a quick glare. She assumed, considering how much he wanted to be included in these proceedings, that he was planning on helping her relay the news. As it was, she felt rather betrayed. Nevertheless, she plastered a smile on her face. "Well, there's no easy way to say it: I'm pregnant."

Mama was the first to react with a gasp. "Oh my goodness!" Much to Mary's surprise, she seemed... well, happy. Her eyes were wide, but she seemed to be smiling.

Papa, on the other hand, was the very picture of confusion. "Pregnant?"

"Yes," said Mary, uncertain of what else to say. "Pregnant."

"Are you excited?" asked Mama.

"Yes. Very." Mary relaxed ever so slightly, letting her guard down. The smile on her face became more genuine with each second that passed. "I'd say we are both looking forward to it."

"My dear," Papa began, "as... well, pleased as I am to know about my new grandchild—"

"Grandchildren," interjected Tom. Mary glanced over at him, heart melting when she saw his wide grin. "We're having twins."

Mama let out another gasp. "Twins!"

"Twins?" repeated Papa. "But the Crawleys have never had twins in the family!" He didn't seem upset by this— merely surprised. He smiled now, widely.

"Well, we're about to," said Mary, hand resting on her stomach. She couldn't believe it— Papa was actually being reasonable, genuinely pleased.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Mama was positively over the moon. "How far along are you?"

"About twelve weeks," said Mary, which prompted her another excited gasp.

Papa, however, had grown quiet again. "My dear, I hope you don't mind if I ask but... is the father aware?"

"Yes," answered Tom slowly, confused... but Mary had figured things out already. Oh my God... they don't know! No wonder they were so strangely supportive right now... It was the conversation with Isobel all over again, somehow even worse than before. "He is very much aware."

Papa nodded sagely. "That's a relief to hear. And he is committed to helping you with the baby?"

"Of course I am," Tom said before Mary could try and jump in to ease into a topic that might salvage their collective relationship.

Papa was taken by surprise, but Mary knew he still hadn't pieced the puzzle together yet. She was screaming internally, desperately wanting to end this painfully awkward call as he said, "Well, that's very decent of you, Tom. We appreciate you looking after all of Mary's children... but I was asking about the child's biological father." Mary knew it had clicked with Tom then. Papa turned his gaze to Mary. "I take it that based on Tom's response he is not interested in being in the picture?"

"How long had you been seeing this man, Mary?" Mama jumped in now, taking a less enthusiastic tone from the one she'd had earlier. "We didn't even realize you had a boyfriend!"

"I don't," admitted Mary begrudgingly before Tom could, hating the way the way the words sounded in her mouth.

They were both stunned into silence. Tom looked ready to speak, but Mary nudged his ankle with her foot and gave him a Look. Not yet. They needed to process this gradually and she wasn't ready for them to know yet.

Her parents blinked. Mama was the first to speak. "Well... I suppose things are different these days."

Mary rolled her eyes. Honestly, for people who had grown up in the sixties and seventies, Mama and Papa were horribly old fashioned. Why did it matter so much to them?

"So... a complete stranger is the father of our grandchild?" asked Papa, looking at Mary as if she were the stranger he was imagining.

"No."

"An old boyfriend, then?"

"Is it Tony Foyle?" Mama sounded more hopeful than she ought to... far more hopeful. In fact, she looked almost excited. They didn't even know that Mary had even slept with him... "I always thought there was something between you two..."

Mary snapped right then and there. This was tedious and tiring, not to mention incredibly invasive. "Tony is married," she reminded her parents, both of which seemed far too excited by the idea of Tony as a father. "Last I knew Charles in Poland for work and I would rather die than sleep with Henry again. So no, it's not an old boyfriend, either." She realized, as she concluded, Evelyn hadn't made the speech. She always managed to forget about Evelyn...

"It's me," Tom said, before they could begin questioning any further. "I'm their father." Without leaving any room for interpretation, Tom let the arm resting on the couch wrap around Mary's shoulders. Unlike the times he made this gesture before, Mary tensed up, knowing the worst was about to come.

Matching expressions of confusion came across her parents faces before their phone was dropped on the ground. "Oh!" exclaimed Mama as it thudded, Mary and Tom looking up at the library ceiling until a hand reached down and covered the camera. Mary felt her muscles tighten until Papa was staring at them again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm afraid there's been some misunderstanding. Tom, you don't mean to say you and Mary—" Mary was mortified, "—well, that is... you seem to be insinuating that you are the biological father instead of the man who'll be raising them."

Tom shook his head. "That's exactly what I mean, Robert."

"Oh my God!" bemoaned Mama in the background, no doubt scandalized and horrified.

"You're joking. Tell me you are joking."

"Why would we joke about this?" Mary was growing hysterical. "I don't think there's any way you could look at this and think it's funny!"

"You're right— it isn't!" Papa's temper had been ignited. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong! We're adults, Robert—"

"But Mary... you said you didn't have a boyfriend!" Mama cried out in the background.

"We aren't dating!" Mary practically shouted. She felt sick— this was going as poorly as she feared and she could feel the judgement in their gaze. "I'm not sure if you are aware or not, but you don't have to be dating someone for that to happen!"

"Don't speak to your mother that way!" snapped Papa, face turning red as Mama lamented in the background. "I am shocked and disappointed, in both of you!" Before either of them could respond, he shouted, "I thought you were to be trusted!" Mary was uncertain just who was under the line of fire until he said, "I was able to accept it when you got Sybil pregnant because you wanted to marry her, but the fact you haven't even promised to commit to Mary in some small way is absolutely unacceptable!"

Mary felt nauseous— though this time she suspected it wasn't the morning sickness. This was going far worse than imagined. She clapped a hand over her mouth, lurching off the couch. Tom rose up and she managed to mumble, "Bathroom," before staggering off.

"Mary Josephine Crawley! Don't you dare walk off when we are in the middle of discussion!" Papa's voice grew fainter as she stepped into bathroom. She wasn't able to close the door before retching over the toilet.

"It's the morning sickness, Robert!" Tom yelled back, clearly having lost all patience. "It's been horrible for her this whole time! She could use a little sympathy instead of being scolded like she's a child!"

She hadn't even realized Tom had left the living room until he crouched by her side as she resurfaced from the toilet bowl. She was clammy, shaking ever so slightly from the exertion. She couldn't stop the tears leaking from her eyes. "It's okay," Tom whispered in her ear. He reached under the sink, procuring a washcloth which he ran under the water to wipe her mouth off. Mary was practically collapsed on tile floor, feeling boneless and shaken. "I'll get you a glass of water."

Mary leaned her head against the beige wall, wondering why she had chosen the color in the first place. It was dull and boring and ugly. She heard voices from the living room, likely Mama and Papa, but she tried to pay it no mind. Her forehead was clammy, eyelids falling shut.

When Tom returned, he knelt down to her level. "Are— Are they still..." she trailed off.

Tom nodded. "Do you want me to hang up?"

Mary shook her head before swallowing some water. When she finished, she handed the glass back to Tom. "No. We... we need to be strong." When Tom gave her a wary look, she continued, "We need to be the reasonable ones." Mary realized her parents were rightfully confounded by everything but at the same time these were their grandchildren. She would give them the same spiel she had given Isobel and let them do with it what they would.

Tom offered her a hand, pulling her up to her full height. Mary leaned into him, more than she normally would have allowed herself, knees a little shaky. Tom wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her upright. "Are you alright?" She merely nodded in response, gradually regaining some of her strength. Tom didn't let go of her and Mary didn't tell him to.

Mama and Papa looked no less disappointed than they had when Mary left. "I understand why you are upset," Mary said, mustering up strength she didn't feel. "Truly, I do. But the fact is that in a few months time you'll have two new grandchildren. We very much want you to be a part of their lives, just as you've been in Sybbie and George's."

"Mary, we need time to process things right now. You've dumped a lot of information on us," said Mama accusingly, pale and disoriented.

"Very well. I hope you won't punish Sybbie or George for any of this, either."

"Of course not." She was shocked Papa was speaking... or maybe she was shocked he hadn't spoken sooner. He was never one to hide his disapproval. "They are blameless in all this. Though I don't think we shall speak to them today. We're still in shock."

Mary nodded. "Very well. I think that concludes things, then." Without so much as another word, she disconnected the call and closed her laptop.

"Are you okay?"

Mary couldn't bring herself to speak. She merely stared at the spot her parents's reproachful faces had been. There were no tears in her eyes yet Mary didn't feel contented in anything that had just happened.

"Come here." Mary didn't even need to move for Tom's arms to wrap around her. The rigidity in her shoulders melted away as he pulled her flush to his chest, chin resting on top of her head. She wondered if the gesture was for his sake more than for hers... after all, they had said some wretched things to him.

"Sorry," she finally said after several minutes had passed. She wasn't exactly certain what she was apologizing for— her parents, this situation, her struggles...

"It's okay. Not your fault."


After Mary had gone upstairs to brush her teeth, they began formulating plans on how to tell the rest of the family. A general pecking order was established: Granny, then Edith. Tom wanted to wait a while longer before they tackled his mother and brother, the two people in his family he was closest to. Oddly enough, Mary was more worried about their reactions that that of her grandmother and sister. She had only met them each once, for Sybbie's christening, and they had each been formidable in their own unique ways.

"Should we bite the bullet now? With Granny?" asked Mary as Tom opened up a cupboard in the kitchen, reaching for a glass to fill with water. She gnawed on the inside of her lip. "I don't want to wait too long, but at the same time I don't want to give her a heart attack."

"Your grandmother's a tough woman. I doubt our news would be enough to cause that kind of damage."

Mary wasn't so sure. She wasn't quite certain if Tom grasped how mad this all was. He must, in some small way, understand that for years and years, he had been firmly associated with Sybil and her with Matthew. Living together had never aroused suspicion from their family because the idea of them ever engaging in a relationship that wasn't platonic was unthinkable. The only people who had seen anything more were the jealous men and women in their lives, seeing clues that even Mary hadn't.

"To spare ourself some time and preserve our nerves, we might as well tell her that you're the father from the start," Mary said, deciding to rectify past mistakes. "I'm not in the mood for another guessing game of Who Has Mary Been Fucking?"

Much to her surprise, Tom flinched. He said nothing though, yet she regretted using such a coarse, brusque word to describe it. It was more than that to her... Was it possibly more than that to him as well?

Don't be ridiculous, Mary, she chastised herself. Tom had made it abundantly clear what this was... He didn't even want to date her, for God's sakes, why would it bother him? Maybe it was just because she'd sworn... though he didn't seem to mind any other time.

However, when the time came, she panicked. She was about to call Granny when she turned to Tom. "Maybe we should tell Edith and Bertie instead. They might take it better."

Tom merely raised his eyebrows. "If you think it's best—"

Mary nodded. She wasn't sure if it really would be better— hers and Edith's relationship had warmed slightly since she married Bertie, but they certainly weren't the best of friends. Still, Edith was born in the same generation as herself and less likely to chastise Mary for being pregnant, especially after her whole ordeal with Michael Gregson.

Mary perched herself on the kitchen counter next to Tom, scooting as close as she could. She FaceTimed Edith, waiting with bated breath.

"Mary," greeted her sister with confusion before perking up once she spotted, "and Tom! How lovely to see you!"

"It's lovely to see you, too, Edith," said Tom with a warm smile. Mary was only able to manage something strained. She let him manage all the small talk, not trusting herself to speak.

It wasn't until Edith began going off on some horribly dull tangent that Mary interrupted with a cheery smile and an, "Edith, this is all very fascinating, but Tom and I actually did have a purpose for calling. Could you go fetch Bertie? We have something we need to tell you."

It was a little heartening, watching Edith's expression phase from irritated to confused to concerned in a span of ten seconds. "Alright... Though I am a bit worried. Nothing's wrong, right?"

"Nope. This is good news," Tom assured her with a smile, arm wrapping around Mary's waist. It occurred to her that Edith couldn't see such a gesture so it was solely for Mary's benefit. It made her feel better.

"I'll go fetch him... I'll just leave you here on my couch. He's in his office..." Edith was scattered, setting her phone down presumably on her couch. She could hear her footsteps and a door closing.

"Be nice," Tom told Mary seriously.

"That was being nice," insisted Mary. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little worried about all this!"

"Believe me, I have." He didn't say it with any degree of harshness. "Do you want me to hold the phone? Your hand is shaking."

So it was. Mary hadn't even noticed, too deep in her own head. "You'd better," she said, handing it over to him, wincing when she realized how sweaty her hands were. Thankfully, Tom didn't comment on it. He simply figured out the best way to hold the phone.

When Edith returned with Bertie, the whole song and dance from before began again with remarks on the weather and inquiries as to how Bertie was managing during quarantine. "And what about you two? I imagine George and Sybbie are a handful," he said, chuckling. "We're lucky we've only Marigold to contend with."

"Though that might change soon! Fingers crossed!" Edith said cheerfully.

"That's actually why we've called," Mary said with a smile, a touch more smug than strictly necessary.

Noting the confusion on their faces, Tom decided to jump in. "What Mary means is that we've some news." The hand on her hip squeezed her as he said, "Mary and I will be having twins!"

They were met with silence, which was better than Mama and Papa's anger, but not much better. "Wait... what?" Edith asked.

"I'm pregnant," clarified Mary.

"Congratulations!" Bertie said with a grin. "That is big news— but I'm so happy for you! We both are!" To his credit, he genuinely sounded and looked pleased for them.

Edith, however, was another story.

"I don't understand," said Edith, brow furrowed and glancing back and forth between them.

"What's not to understand?" Mary asked tightly.

"How are you pregnant?"

"You've a child yourself. You should know how it works."

"Yes, but I don't understand how you could be pregnant with Tom's child!" exclaimed Edith. Ah— so there it was. The negative reaction Mary had known would come. Oddly enough (though she supposed it wasn't so odd, given how she responded to Edith ordinarily), Mary wasn't as afraid of her reaction now. "You do remember he was going to marry Sybil, don't you? Our sister?"

"Neither of us have forgotten about Sybil," Tom said, now sounding less cheerful than before. In fact, his tone was rather hard. "And I'll remind you I was just as involved in this as Mary, so don't put all the blame on her."

Edith grimaced. "Please... Please tell me it was IVF or something..."

"It's none of your business," Mary said instantly, wondering why Edith felt the need to ask.

"Quite right," agreed Bertie. "It isn't our business."

Edith was shaking her head, looking very much overwhelmed. "I can't deal with this," she said, shoving the phone into Bertie's hand. "I'm stepping out for some air."

"Edie— Edith, wait!" Bertie called out after her. He stared helplessly after her as the door slammed.

Tom's hand tightened on her hip again. Mary turned her head to look at his face more clearly, finding a sad expression. She reached for his hand, unable to hold it and bumping her elbow against the cabinets behind her, but she let him know she was there for him.

Bertie turned back to two of them. "She'll be alright," he assured them, not sounding very certain himself. "She's just— she's overwhelmed. She will come around. I'll see to that."

"It's alright, Bertie," said Tom. "Edith— Well, she's entitled to her own opinion on the matter."

"Maybe so, but she shouldn't behave rudely to good news for her sister and brother-in-law." There was an edge to Bertie's voice. Mary suspected there would be a row once they'd hung up. "I'll let you go and see if I can bring Edith 'round." It took all of Mary's willpower to not make a remark about how he would sooner walk on water than impel Edith to be happy about something in Mary's life. "Congratulations, again, to the both of you."

"Thank you. We really do appreciate it," said Mary, able to smile genuinely for the first time since this call began.

"And congratulations on the relationship!" Bertie said, the smile fading from Mary's face. "I didn't even realize you two were together— though I must admit that I expected it at some point. Edie thought I was just seeing things—"

"We aren't together," Tom clarified.

Bertie was quiet. Mary's hand subconsciously left Tom's at last, flopping to her side once again. "Oh. I see." Still, he managed to smile. "Well, that's alright, too. As long as it works for the both of you and you're happy, who cares what anyone else thinks?"

"I'd say we're happy... aren't we, Mary?"

"Very," said Mary, not expressing the enthusiasm she actually felt about the matter.

"Then all the better." Bertie smiled at them again. "We'll talk sometime soon, I imagine. Please keep us posted."

They exchanged goodbyes and once the call was over, Tom handed the phone back to Mary. "Well," was all she was able to say. That hadn't gone quite to plan...

He was still wearing that sad expression from before. Mary forced herself to shove that hurt she had felt at the reminder that they weren't together to focus on him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Mary wasn't convinced. His eyes were fixed on his knees. She reached out and rested a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You've done nothing wrong." Before Mary could say anything else, Tom was hopping off the counter. "I'm just— I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to order something for dinner?"

"I can do that," said Mary, blinking. She was taken aback by this— her attempts at comfort were clearly unwanted. She couldn't help but feel dejected. "Let's hold off telling Granny. I think we've had enough excitement for one day."

Tom nodded. "I agree. I think we need a bit of a break from it all." He offered her a smile before leaving her alone in the kitchen.


Mary checked her phone after dinner as Tom cleared things away. "I'll join you and the children once the washing's finished up," he said. "Go have a rest."

Mary didn't feel relaxed at all, though, even as she sat next to George and Sybbie on the couch. Disney+ had been a worthwhile gift for Christmas and Sybbie was trying to figure out the best film for them to watch as George snuggles up to her side. As wonderful as his presence was, Mary really needed Tom— not in that way, but just to know he did care, in some small way.

There was a text from Bertie. Mary sucked in a deep breath before going to read it.

BERTIE: I'm sorry about how things went earlier. I've talked to Edith and we determined most of her anger isn't directed at you or Tom— she's been struggling personally lately. Still, it might be best if you gave her some space. I'd still like to know you + babies are doing well, so please feel free to text me for updates and I can pass it along to Edith. :)

Mary stared blankly at the phone as Tom joined them on the couch. Sybbie and George sat between them, engrossed in trying to select the perfect movie, but laid his arm out across the back of the couch. "You look rather serious," he commented.

Without saying anything, Mary handed him the phone. He let out a sigh. "I suppose we should have expected that."

Not certain of what to say, Mary nodded, focusing her attention on the screen. George and Sybbie seemed to have settled on a movie, though as it started playing her concentration ceased existing. It was easy to tune out what was going on onscreen, even as the children occasionally giggled and asked questions. Tom was there to eagerly answer them and Mary let everything fade into the background.

Before long, George was crawling into her lap to kiss her cheek. "Night night," he said, trying to stop himself from smiling.

Mary kissed his cheek as well, slowly coming back to reality. "Goodnight, my darling."

"Brush your teeth first," Tom called out after him after the children had finished saying goodnight to them both. Mary heard a groan, which sounded like Sybbie's, before hearing them march to the bathroom.

"We should get some sleep, too," Mary said aloud, not certain how she was going to be able to manage Granny tomorrow.

"Before we do, I think we should talk," said Tom. That made Mary turn her head to face him. He looked a little nervous. He eyes the bathroom door before saying, "But maybe we should wait for them to go to bed first."

Mary raised her eyebrows, wondering if he was simply stalling or if he genuinely didn't want the children overhearing. Something told her it had to do with their long, stressful day. Mary was relieved George and Sybbie has been shielded from it all; they wouldn't understand why people were upset.

They said goodnight to the children again before Tom suggested they step into the kitchen. Mary followed him there, wondering why he was returning there. When he asked her if he could have a small glass of whiskey, Mary gave him the okay. "You certainly deserve it," she said, leaning against the counter.

Tom shot her a grateful look. "It does seem a little unfair, though. For you."

Mary wanted to say that life wasn't fair, but she doubted that would help anyone. Instead, she asked, "How are you holding up?"

Tom had already poured out a small amount of whiskey into his glass. He managed to shrug. "I don't know what I expected, really." That didn't answer the question but Mary knew what he meant. "What about you?"

"As well as I suppose I can be." Mary was surprised by how little she was bothered by her family's reaction and how she had found herself more concerned with how Tom was feeling. She knew she loved him but she was a little taken aback by the depth of her own emotion. The fact they had treated him so poorly weighed heavily on her.

Tom nodded before swallowing his whiskey. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry." Before Mary could remind him that none of this was his fault, he continued, "For running off after the whole thing with Edith. I was thinking about myself and not about how you must be feeling."

"Don't worry. I'm used to it." Mary knew it was a bleak way to look at her relationship with her sister, but she supposed now that she would have been more shocked if Edith had taken the news well. "You aren't, though."

The look Tom gave her was indecipherable. Not for the first time, Mary wished knew what was going on in his head. He walked over to her, so close they were only a few centimeters apart. Mary met his eye, just able to make it out in the darkened kitchen. She didn't realize his hand had reached up to cradle her jaw until she felt it.

For a moment, Mary thought he might kiss. But nothing happened. "Do... Do you want to talk about it?" She finally said, figuring it was best at least one of them would say something.

Tom shook his head. "No. Not right now. But thank you for asking." That was when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Mary's hand subconsciously found its way to his chest while his moved to the back of her neck, the other wrapping around her waist. She felt his heartbeat quicken under her hand and she pulled back ever so slightly, looking at him once more.

It only took a slight lean to press her body to his. The kiss was unlike any of the others they had shared. Though they were still shrouded in darkness, they stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding one another. It was slow, appreciative and completely unhurried.

She felt the familiar jolt of desire when Tom's hand slid down, settling on her bottom. Before she knew it, he was picking her up and setting her on the counter. "Is this okay?" His asked, voice rough.

"More than okay," Mary before pulling him to her so their lips were pressed together once again. One hand slid down his chest until she found the zipper to his jeans. Before she could tug it down, his own hands had snaked under her dress and up her inner thigh. Her legs parted with little thought and she allowed him to yank her underwear down. She let out a gasp as his fingers found her.

As wonderful as it was, it wasn't enough. Though she was in a haze of bliss, Mary returned to her earlier task with fervor. It wasn't long before they were joined as one, her legs wrapped around him to hold him in place.

"Mary," he managed to gasp out when her lips were on his neck, teeth grazing his sensitive skin. The sound of her name in his voice was perhaps the most erotic thing she had ever heard. She moved up by his ear, which caused him to cry out, "Oh, God, Mary!"

It wasn't until his hand began cupping her breast that Mary felt herself slowly becoming undone. She tilted her head back now that it was his turn to place kisses up and down her neck, luxuriating in the sensation until she felt a pain at the back of her head and heard a thump.

"Are you okay?" Tom had stopped moving, a worried look on his face.

Mary nodded, suddenly realizing she had hit her head on the cupboard door behind her. It suddenly dawned on her that they were in the kitchen of all places and it was the first time they'd really ventured out of the bedroom for this sort of thing. That reminder reinvigorated her excitement. "I'm fine," she assured him.

Tom didn't seem wholly convinced. "Maybe we should take this upstairs—"

He was cut off by Mary, whose hands gripped the front of his shirt, bringing their lips together again before saying, "Don't you dare stop." He didn't need anymore convincing.

Mary had no idea how much time passed before they both came down from their highs but even as Tom began redressing, Mary felt more closer to him than ever. "Are you alright?" asked Tom, obviously noting the fact she had yet to move.

"Certainly. I just don't trust my legs quite yet," she managed with a smile.

He grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," Mary said. Maybe she wasn't quite in the right state of mind just yet, but after what they'd just experienced, she was inclined to be complimentary.

"Come on," he said, offering her his arm. "Let me help you up the stairs."

"I'm sure I can manage well enough now," insisted Mary, sliding off the counter but taking his arm anyway.

Once they were back to their room, the clothing was shed quickly. Mary didn't feel like turning on any lights to search around for pajamas, simply crawling under the sheets. Tom seemed to follow suit, moving underneath them with her. She let out a contented sigh as he wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her collarbone. Her eyelids were heavy, making it hard for her to keep her eyes open.

She was half asleep when he finally spoke. "The reason I was so upset earlier was because of Edith bringing up Sybil. That's why I needed a moment to myself."

Mary suspected as much. "It's was cruel of her," she mumbled back. Judging by the way his body tensed up, she wondered if he had thought she was already asleep. Still, Mary continued, "I know you loved her."

"I did. Very much."

It didn't hurt to hear that. It was a simple fact. "I loved Matthew. So, so much. I didn't even realize just how much I could love someone until I fell for him." She was tired and not quite there, more honest than she might be otherwise. "But... Just because things are different now doesn't mean anything's changed. It doesn't mean I didn't love him any less." She hoped she was making some sense.

"I know." Tom kissed her cheek. "Get some rest."

Mary nodded. "You too." He deserved it. She let herself float away as he adjusted his arm around her.


Thankfully, any horrific scenarios that Mary had constructed in telling Granny dissipated. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Granny merely said with a weary sigh once the news was delivered. They decided to bite bullet as early in the morning as they possibly could, figuring waiting would be a form of mental torture. They were still in bed together, dressed in their pajamas and cuddled up under the sheets. "The two of you have never done things the traditional way. Why on earth would you start now?"

Mary was relieved to not be scolded like a child again. She hadn't anticipated an all out screaming match with Granny but she hadn't exactly expected things to go so swimmingly. "If you mean we haven't exactly done things conventionally, then you're right... but we are very happy about this. And we hope you are, too."

"Of course I am," replied Granny, without much enthusiasm... but then again, she was hardly one for cooing over babies. "But I must confess I don't quite understand it." Before Mary could inquire what she meant, she continued, "Is there something I am unaware of? Have the two of you been seeing one another."

Mary didn't even dare to look at Tom, who answered for them. "No. We aren't."

"I see." There was a note of disapproval in her voice. "Well, I suppose things are different these days."

And that was the most discouragement they received. In spite of her traditional values, Granny seemed excited about her new great grandchildren. Mary was relieved, finally glad to be able to talk to someone in her family without a fight breaking out.

"We should have told her first," Mary said once they hung up, a weight lifted off her shoulders. "I feel stupid for worrying yesterday."

"I'm surprised she took it so well," admitted Tom, looking as relaxed as she felt. "Then again, she doesn't like being predicable."

"Yes, but I was at least expecting a lecture of some sort," Mary said, still pleasantly surprised. It wasn't like Granny to be so agreeable.

"Well, thank our lucky stars she didn't," Tom said, leaning forward to press a kiss to Mary's cheek. Her eyes widened. "I'm not certain either of could have managed with it."

"No," agreed Mary, a little breathlessly, "No, I don't think we would have." She turned towards him, wondering if things had changed... if maybe something had altered between them last night. Mary decided to test out her theory by leaning forward, kissing him deeply. Instead of pulling back, Tom responded immediately, hand settling on her hip before wrapping around her waist. Mary couldn't help but smile against his lips, a weight easing off her shoulders.