A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter and for the well wishes on my exams! I really appreciate it! Thankfully, my professors were wonderful about not trying to overburden us so as you can see, there was enough time to finish this chapter! I anticipate on there being three more chapters after this one, plus an epilogue!
Also, a fun fact about the last chapter: There's a scene in one of the earlier chapters where Mary and Tom discuss their respective relationships with Matthew and Sybil. Mary says that it took her a long time before she realized how she felt about Matthew, whereas Tom says he confessed before he and Sybil were even dating. The last chapter was meant to be a reversal of that, in order to show how much they've changed and grown :)
New Normal
Chapter Twenty Two
Their first date was a picnic in their backyard. Tom had laid out a blanket on the grass, a basket off to the side with napkins and two wine glasses... and some sparkling grape juice. "I know you can't have the real stuff, but I thought it might be nice, you know... so you can at least pretend."
It was sweet... almost as sweet as knowing he'd prepared her favorite meal, which was served by George and Sybbie, both of whom were giggling excitedly as they presented them with the chicken alfredo. Once the sliding door closed, Mary admitted, "I'm almost a little worried, leaving them alone in there."
"Oh, I am, too," said Tom, twirling his pasta around on his fork. "I'm sure I'll have a mess to contend with later."
"I'll help wash up."
Tom shook his head. "This evening's about you."
Mary wasn't sure if she liked that or not. Despite having heard him say he cared about her, Mary still felt on edge, as if it was too good to be real. Was this only because of her? Did he really have any sort of desire to change things or was he feeling pressured because he didn't want to lose her as friend? "It's your date, too," Mary told him, voice wavering ever so slightly with uncharacteristic nervousness. She glanced down, but not before she saw the concerned look in his eyes. "Not all the work needs to be put on you."
"I know. But will you humor me? Just this once?" As if he could understand what she had been thinking, he reached out and took the one hand that wasn't holding a glass, succeeding in melting away her apprehensions. When she dared to look up again, his gaze was now on her hand. "Next time, I promise I'll let you be in charge."
Mary smiled. Next time. "Well, I'm glad to know I've made a favorable impression on you thus far to guarantee a second date," she said, voice still that higher pitch, but this time it drew out laughter from them both.
When their dinner was finished, Tom gathered up the plates and silverware. He told her to stay seated when she tried to stand. "For dessert," he explained. She watched his retreating form, stomach full of butterflies.
As lovely as all this was, though, Mary was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Her body was no longer the same shape she was accustomed to and sitting in the same position for long periods of time wasn't always the best. It wasn't until she glanced up at the darkening sky that she spread herself out on the blanket, the sun having almost retreated completely from the sky. She began counting the stars, almost not noticing Tom's return.
"What're you doing?" he asked, almost amused as he sat down beside her. He offered her an ice cream bar, which was cold to the touch and pleasant contrasted against the warm air.
"Looking at the stars." A moment or two later, Tom joined her, wiggling a bit closer so their sides touched.
"It's nice," Tom mused. There was a silence before he said, "You could never see them in Dublin. There was always too many lights."
"You can see them clearly at the Abbey," Mary told him. She sidled up closer to him, inhaling to smell his cologne. "It's so far away from the city... nothing really obscures it."
Their ice creams began melting and soon they were rising to their feet, Tom promising to stick them back into the freezer. "They'll taste fine, they just won't look so pretty," he told her. He had to help tug her to her feet, their spot on the ground too low. "Sorry... I wasn't thinking—"
"It's alright." Mary staggered for a moment or two, holding onto his cold hands. The ice creams were sitting on the blanket. She only let go when she had steadied herself. "I had a great time."
Tom smiled, the sight making her heart melt just like the ice cream had. He offered her arm and she took it, feeling like a heroine in one of those old films.
The children were entertaining themselves, watching Tarzan in the living room. George had nodded off, his face pressed into the arm of the couch, but Sybbie remained enraptured. She spared them a glance when they entered the house, giving them each warm smiles and kisses goodnight. Mary was realizing Disney had been a worthwhile investment.
"I'll take care of things," Tom promised, mouth close to Mary's ear. "Can I escort you to your door?"
It was beyond silly, all things considered, but Mary found herself nodding. They walked up the stairs together, and when they reached the bedroom door, Tom asked, "Can I kiss you?" He sounded shy, and Mary couldn't tell if it was an act or if he was genuinely nervous. Nevertheless, she answered by leaning forward and kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck.
It seemed as though an eternity had passed before they finally parted, but too soon at the same time. Mary was panting, forehead pressed against Tom's. "I'll take care of everything," he told her yet again. "You get some rest. I'll join you shortly."
There was no desire to insist otherwise... only that she wished he would join her now. Still, she had not yet regained any abilities of speech, so she merely nodded, forcing herself to take a step back from him— because she knew if she didn't, she would kiss him again and prolong it. "Don't take too long," she said lightly, hand reaching for the door knob but missing entirely. Thankfully, Tom didn't seem to notice and dimly held his gaze, smiling the whole time.
Mary stepped into the darkened bedroom, only flicking on the lights once she reached the bathroom. As she readied herself for bed, she wondered if there was anything more planned for their night... or, more specifically, it she needed to even bother with pajamas. In the end, not wanting to be presumptuous, Mary wore one of Tom's tee shirts as if it were a dress.
Tom slipped into the room a few minutes later. "That was quick," she remarked, trying not to sound affected as he began pulling off his shirt.
"You told me not to take too long, remember?"
Actually, it getting harder and harder to remember things the more skin was exposed, especially now that Tom had turned on a lamp and made himself all the more visible.
"Besides," Tom continued. "There wasn't much to do, anyway. I'm letting the dishes soak and I'm letting Sybbie stay up to watch her movie." Now only in his boxers, he leaned over, kissing Mary before pulling back to say lowly, "So you're going to have to promise to be quiet."
"Quiet?" She phrased it innocently, as if she had no idea what he might be referring to, but was certain he could tell.
"This is your night, remember?" His hands were at her shirt, bunching up the material in his hands and tugging. Mary let him, eyes only on him as he tossed it onto the floor. There was a moment of inaction as his eyes scanned over her, silently admiring her before kissing her again.
"You're being awful presumptuous," Mary managed to say as his lips began moving down her body. He was almost to her hip now. "I don't usually sleep with men on the first date."
"Oh?" Tom drew away, remarkably casual. He sat up. "What a shame." He began moving, rolling over to his side of the bed, stopped only Mary reaching out, bringing him back down.
"Though... I might be willing to make an exception. Just this once."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Tom, almost smugly, before pecking her lips to resume things where they had left off. Mary might have been exasperated if she weren't so ridiculously happy.
It was both miraculous how much had changed and just how little needed to change. It was nice, finally being able to let go and no longer hide how she felt.
Most remained the same. Any changes to the way the household was run was made to accommodate Mary's pregnancy, which meant George and Sybbie helped more with the chores. Tom was beyond wonderful with here, giving her foot massages whenever she needed and indulging her bizarre cravings.
"Thank you," said Mary gratefully when he returned home, a package of crisps in his hand. "I don't know why I want these so badly... I don't even like prawn flavored crisps." She opened up the package as Tom began removing his shirt.
"It's no problem," he said, though Mary couldn't help but feel that was a lie. It was cumbersome to go out in the middle of the night to fetch her things... but he was such a good sport about it. He smiled as he rejoined her in bed. "Just as long as I can have a couple."
Mary opened the bag, holding it open for him. He accepted it gratefully. It wasn't until she had started eating some herself that she queried, "Should we be eating these in bed? We might get crumbs everywhere."
"It's too late to go downstairs," insisted Tom. "If we do, I promise I'll put some fresh sheets on."
Placated, Mary continued eating. Once half the bag was gone and Mary started to set it aside, Tom tried to lean in for a kiss. She moved away, one hand on his chest, to say, "I'm sorry, but you need to brush your teeth first before we can even think of that."
"You've eaten more than I have!" he protested, though he was chuckling.
"And I need to brush my teeth, too," insisted Mary, somewhat amused. She handed him the crisps. "Take these downstairs and then brush your teeth."
"Yes, milady."
Mary rolled her eyes with a smile, knowing he delighted in teasing her. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's what it will take if you wish to kiss me. Now hurry up unless you want me to add another task."
Tom smiled again, moving as if he were to leave the bed before leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. Mary let out a shriek as he darted away, clearly pleased with himself. She stared after him even after he left the room, wondering if she ought to make up an additional demand if he wanted to kiss her properly... before realizing that she didn't want to wait much longer.
Their next date was arranged on a Sunday afternoon. It had taken some careful coordination but Mary was hoping Tom would be pleased with it.
Tom was upstairs showering when there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" shouted Sybbie, running to the front door. Mary let her, somewhat nervous. Her anxieties only intensified when she heard her shriek, "Thomas!"
"Hello, there," she heard Thomas say as George began running to the kitchen and Sybbie let out another noise of surprise when she realized Jimmy was there as well.
"Thank you for doing this," she said gratefully once Thomas stepped into the living room, so thankful that she wished she could give him a hug... but somehow that didn't seem the right thing to do in the midst of a pandemic, despite the fact he and Jimmy had been avoiding the rest of the world just as Tom and Mary had. They had agreed, with both of them expecting babies, it might make sense to form a bubble with one another. Considering the extended Crawley family was still not on speaking terms with them and they didn't want to risk Granny's health, they weren't sure who else to turn to for childcare. She would have considered asking Anna and John, only she knew they already had their hands full with Johnny.
"It's no problem," said Thomas. "We'll need the practice, for when we have our little one."
Mary beamed. "Are you excited?"
"Of course," Thomas grinned. "We spent yesterday painting the nursery."
Before Mary could ask much more, Tom appeared at the steps. "Hi Thomas! Nice to see you! Thank you for doing this, by the way."
Thomas smirked. "It's no problem. I'm sure you two can return the favor for us at some point, once the world returns to normal."
Mary immediately felt dread at the idea of looking after three babies and George and Sybbie at once. She sincerely hoped he was joking. Before she could voice this, Tom cheerily said, "I'm sure we'll owe you," and wandering off to say hello to Jimmy.
"So what's it like? The two of you dating?"
Mary allowed herself a small smile. "It's nice... and not that different, really."
Thomas seemed highly intrigued but asked no more questions. She supposed she must have answered any and all queries after she informed him of the news. Though it was still hard not having support or any real contact from her family (besides Granny, who had been smug upon learning they were now together), it was nice to know she had support from her friends. She recalled Anna's excitement fondly, relieved to know there was someone in her life who wouldn't look down on them for it.
After exchanging hellos and conveying her immense gratitude to Jimmy as well, Mary was relieved to finally be on their way. She had glanced at her phone several times, making sure they wouldn't be late.
"I have to be honest, I'm a little worried," said Tom as they walked to the garage.
"Why? Don't you trust me?"
"Of course. I'm not worried about the date," he clarified. He glanced back at the front door. "Just— Do you think it's safe? Us going out, Thomas and Jimmy in our house?"
"They've been as careful as us," Mary reminded him. "I don't think they've even gone to a grocery store. I think they have it delivered to their place. And I promise that we'll keep safe."
Tom nodded but Mary could tell he was still apprehensive. Truthfully, she had her own fears, but she was reminding herself that they were doing the best they could. "Please try not to worry, my darling. This is your day, remember?" She squeezed his hand before letting go, walking to her side of the car. It wasn't until she reached the other side that she realized he was still standing there. There was a curious expression on his face. "What?" She asked, suddenly alarmed.
"Nothing," Tom said, shaking his head. A small smile was creeping across his face. "You called me darling." Before Mary could question it, he shyly admitted, "I like it."
Relieved, Mary beamed. "I'll remember that." She opened her own door. "Now get in the car, darling, or else we'll be late."
Tom grinned, but when they were both in the car, he said, "You said we'll be late... You didn't get us reservations to a restaurant, did you? I don't know how safe it is—"
"Don't worry," said Mary, starting up the vehicle. She supposed her lack of annoyance over his fussing was a clear sign they were still in the honeymoon phase. "Everything will be perfectly safe."
She knew he was dying to know more as they drove along, though he was doing a marvelous job pretending otherwise. Mary was excited, enjoying the fact she finally had a chance to surprise him.
They finally pulled up into Charlie and Elsie's driveway, where the old car sat in the driveway. It was his latest purchase, something he had splurged on and shown off on Facebook. Mary knew he was fond of her, but she was stunned when he had actually said they could borrow it for the day.
"What's this?" Tom was all but jumping out of the car, almost forgetting to remove his seat belt.
"You're the one who knows all about cars. You tell me," said Mary, grinning. She pulled out her phone, quickly sending a quick text that simply said, Here to Charlie.
"This is a beauty," Tom marveled, clearly restraining himself from touching the car. "Where'd Charlie get it?"
"You can ask him yourself. He'll be out in a moment or two to give us the keys," said Mary, pleased that he already seemed to be enjoying himself. She slipped her face mask on and Tom did the same.
A couple minutes later, Charlie emerged from the house, along with Elsie, brandishing a set of keys. "Here you go, Tom," he said, handing them over to him. "Take good care of it— and Mary."
"Oh, don't worry," said Tom, gaze flickering over to Mary. "I will."
They stood around for a while, chatting with Charlie and Elsie about just about everything. Charlie had taken up gardening, apparently, whereas Elsie had started knitting with all the time on her hands. "I can make something, for your little ones, if you'd like," she offered, which surprised Mary. She had never disliked Elsie, but they weren't exactly the closest. She had always suspected Sybil was her favorite of the Crawley girls... but then again, Elsie has always had a soft spot for Tom.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Elsie," said Mary genuinely.
Thankfully, neither of them pried too much about the circumstances surrounding Tom and Mary, nor the pregnancy. Mary wondered if perhaps Papa and Mama had filled them in already or if they had simply decided not to ask about it. Nevertheless, Mary was pleased not answer to many invasive questions.
Soon, Elsie and Charlie decided to let them leave, saying their goodbye and Tom promising to return the car without a single scratch or dent. "Where are we going to now?" Tom asked as the climbed into the car.
"Anywhere you like," said Mary, buckling the seatbelt in the passengers side. "But you'll need to pull into a drive through at some point."
Tom gave her a strange look but said, "Very well." He started up the car and Mary ignored her own jolt as the engine rumbled to life.
Thankfully, as if sensing her apprehension, Tom drove more slowly than she knew he wanted. It was still enough for the wind to blow through their hair but not enough to make her nervous. Every so often, he stole glances at her, but she remained focused on him almost the whole time.
After a while, Tom drove into the town. "Which restaurant am I to go to, then?"
"Anywhere that serves burgers and milkshakes," answered Mary, amused when Tom raised his eyebrows. "And I'm sorry, but you cannot order anything else."
Fifteen minutes later, Mary was sipping on a chocolate milkshake on a secluded area on Downton's estate underneath a shady tree, the sun warm but not excessively hot. Tom was wondering why she had ordered he park the car somewhere but eagerly eating his lunch now. Mary pulled out her phone. "I'm sorry the screen is so small, but as long as we sit close together, we should be able to see."
"It sounds to me like you just want an excuse to sit close to me," teased Tom as scooted closed towards her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Mary smiled, pressing play before leaning back.
"Roman Holiday," Tom remarked when the title card appeared on the screen.
Mary shrugged, sipping her chocolate milkshake. "I thought it was period appropriate, with the car... and I thought it was something we might both enjoy."
"Have you seen it before, then?"
"Once, but that was some time ago. I can't even remember what it's about now. I think I was in secondary school. I wanted to feel sophisticated."
Tom laughed. "It's hard to picture a time where you weren't."
"What do you mean?"
"I only mean it's difficult to imagine you being an awkward teenager like the rest of us," said Tom. She could feel him smirking. "I've heard some stories, but it's hard picturing you that young and doing silly things."
Mary might have smiled and joined in on the jokes of they weren't treading dangerously close to Kemal Pamuk territory. She was afraid to ask what stories he had heard— if they were from Sybil, she was sure they wouldn't be too damaging... but if it was Edith... well, then it would be nothing but a highlight of her at her absolute nastiest.
"I think it's best to forget about those times," she finally said. "Now shush and watch the movie."
As lovely a time as it was, the mood was altered. Though she did her best to concentrate on Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, it was difficult when her mind insisted on reminding her of an unpleasant time in her life. The night itself had been bad enough but the months that followed up until graduation were torturous.
Since he had been engrossed with the movie, Tom didn't notice the shift. It wasn't until it concluded and Mary plugged her phone into the portable charger that he said, "That was a lovely idea," and kissed her forehead.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said, attempting to remain as in bright spirits as she had been before.
"So," Tom said with a smirk. "Is there anymore?"
"I'm afraid not. It's all done, I'm afraid, unless you want to drive around a while longer... but we ought to return it to Charlie soon."
"No time for some fun in the backseat?"
It was joke— obviously it was. Under normal circumstances, Mary might have been willing to joke as well, but at present she had little patience towards humor. "No," she said sharply. "Charlie's been very nice to lend us this car. I'm not going to insult him like that." She reached for the seatbelt, bucking herself up and staring straight ahead.
Tom didn't move. "I was only... it was only a joke. I'm sorry." When Mary didn't say anything back, he sighed and started up the car again.
When Mary realized Tom was driving straight for Charlie and Elsie's, she texted Charlie to let him know.
"So," the man said, greeting them in the driveway. "How did you like it?"
"It was great," Tom said, before launching into an impassioned monologue about it. Mary tried to follow along, but found herself anxious to leave. It was a terrible attitude to have but—
"Are you alright, Mary?" Charlie asked, frowning.
She forced herself to smile. "Of course I am. I'm just afraid I'm starting to get tired."
"Of course you are. I'm sorry. We won't hold you up longer." After wishing them farewell, Charlie was given his keys and Tom and Mary were walking back to her car.
"D'you want me to drive?" Tom asked quietly.
Mary nodded, sorting through her bag until she found her own keys. The sun was setting in the distance, though it was still rather dark.
The drive home was a silent one until Tom turned on the music. He flipped through nearly all the stations before turning it off again, sighing as he did so.
Thomas and Jimmy thankfully did not stay long enough to observe the strange tension between them, only assuring them that George and Sybbie had been very good for them. Mary greeted the children, mood improving slightly, then Tom promised to let them stay up to watch a movie. "Do you think that's wise, letting them stay up so late?" Mary asked in a whisper as she followed him into the kitchen, where he scooped ice cream for them. It was already nearly nine o'clock.
"It's summer and we're in the middle of a pandemic. We can be lenient with them," insisted Tom. "Besides, they'll probably fall asleep halfway through anyway."
He had a point... "What about brushing their teeth?"
"We'll make them do when they wake up."
"Not me. I'm going to bed." The idea of staying up past eleven made her exhausted just thinking about it. "It'll have to be you."
Tom looked up from his task. "Okay, then." He looked so confused...
Mary felt a little bad about it when she finally went upstairs, dressing herself in one of his tee shirts. Things hadn't panned out the way she wanted... she wished there was some way she could shake herself out of this.
She was scrolling through Instagram thirty minutes when the bedroom door opened, revealing Tom. "The children finished their ice cream and have brushed their teeth," he informed her before coming to sit on the bed.
Mary wasn't certain of how to respond. She settled for an ambivalent, "That's good."
Tom sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about making that stupid joke earlier. I never would have said if I'd known it would upset you—"
Mary shook her head. "It's not that."
Tom was quiet. "Then what is it? Because I feel like you're angry at me and I don't know what I even did wrong, let alone how to make it better."
"You can't," said Mary. Then, upon realizing he wouldn't understand, she clarified, "Because it's nothing you've done. It's me. I just— I need to go to sleep. When I wake up in the morning, I'll be back to my regular self."
"I don't understand."
He wouldn't. Not when she'd kept it from him. "When we were talking about secondary school... it stirred up a bad memory for me." She didn't even need to see his face to know he was wearing an expression of concern. "I'm alright. I promise I am. But I don't— I'm not ready to talk about it yet."
"That's fine. That's more than alright." He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her. Mary's shoulders tended for a moment before relaxing. "Is this... Does it have to do with that thing all those months ago? That Matthew knew?"
Mary had nearly forgotten about that conversation. It was hard to believe that had happened just this year... it felt like eons ago and they had been in a completely different stage of life then. "It does."
Tom nodded. "You don't have to ever tell me, Mary. I mean it. Just because things are different now between us, you're entitled to your secrets."
"But I do." It was a harsh reality but one she realized was necessary. Edith had her own version of the story, which had been concluded by whispered rumors. She didn't know the whole truth, nor did Mary believe she deserved it, but she was terrified that one day she would reference it in front of Tom and give him the wrong impression. "You don't understand. I need to tell you. I don't want you hearing about it from anyone else."
"Like who?"
"Edith. She's— she's already made comments about it in front of you and given how wonderfully she's taken to learning about us, I'm sure it'll only be a matter of time before she throws it in your face."
Tom's confusion melted away, replaced by something softer. "Mary," he said quietly, crossing the room that he could stand in front of her. "I meant what I said. You don't have to tell me about it now— or ever, if you don't want to. I trust you. And— and nothing Edith says will ever change how I feel about you."
Mary, who until just now had felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, allowed herself to ease. "Thank you," she muttered before reaching out to embrace him. His arms wrapped around her instantly. "I will tell you. Someday. But not now."
Tom simply responded by pressing a kiss to her temple and holding her a little tighter. "I'll leave you to rest, then."
"No," she said immediately. "Stay. Please."
And so he did.
"What do you think of Andrew?"
Mary looked up from her phone, frowning. They were laying in bed, tired after a long day of dealing with a crew coming to work on the house. The good news was that it looked like things would be finished soon. "Andrew who?"
Tom let out a laugh, the sound a welcome one to her ears. "I meant for the baby. What do you think about naming him Andrew?"
Mary hesitated. Truthfully it wasn't her favorite... but she didn't know how to tactfully tell him that. Instead she asked, "Why Andrew?"
Tom suddenly grew shy. Mary worried she was going to step on some toes. "It's a little silly but... well, I remember Matthew teasing you about naming George Andromeda if he were a girl. And I was just thinking it sounded close enough for a masculine name..." He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but Mary could tell he had put a great deal of thought into it. "I thought it might be a nice way to remember him without naming the baby after him."
Mary was quiet, speechless. She was touched. It made sense: Matthew had been his close friend. Given that he had named Sybbie after Sybil, it made sense he would want to honor Matthew in some way.
"We don't have to. If you don't want to. If you'd rather they have names completely separate. I know it's a little strange," Tom said, as if he could read her thoughts. Sometimes Mary wondered if he could... or maybe it was testament to how close they were.
Mary shook her head. "No. I like that." She squeezed his hand. "But I'm not exactly a fan of Andrew as a name." She paused, debating with herself if she should share it or not before saying, "It was an inside joke between Matthew and I. We had class at uni together about Greek mythology. We didn't really like one another at all back then." It was easy to slip back into those memories of simpler times, recalling the youthful versions of themselves. "Then we were paired up for an assignment and I loudly compared myself to Andromeda being sacrificed to the sea monster to all my friends, well within earshot of him... and he never let me forget it. So I'm afraid that it would defeat the point of honoring Matthew when he was talking about me."
Tom chuckled. "Fair enough. No Andrew, then."
Nevertheless, Tom's idea had her thinking. She recalled a memory of her and Matthew strolling about campus, once they had become friends. He mentioned a mutual acquaintance of theirs, some girl whose gaze always lingered on him for too long. "You'd better watch out. I think she has a crush on you," Mary informed him, ignoring her own sting of jealousy that he was acknowledging this girl's existence. He has expressed interest in Mary in the past, inviting her along to dinner... but then the stupid thing at the party happened when Edith came to visit.
"That's something no one could accuse you of," Matthew had replied, but when he glanced over to her, his eyes were hopeful.
"Oh, I don't know." He had slowed down, turning to her completely, eyes wide and a smile threatening to form. "I've been thinking and I don't think you're a sea monster after all. I think you're more like Perseus."
"Although... There's always Perseus... or, rather, Percy." She mulled the name over in her mind. Percy Branson... "What do you think?"
Tom nodded. "Percy. I like it." He smiled. "I think our son has a name."
There was a fluttering feeling in her stomach. Our son. The thought filled her with immense joy. "Have you decided on a middle name for him yet?" asked Mary.
"I was thinking Eoin. It's my middle name," he explained, as if she didn't know already from being his best friend for years and from hearing his mother exclaim his full name as she demanded to know why he hadn't told her about the babies sooner. Thankfully she hadn't been upset for long, too excited about her future grandchildren for that. "And it was my Dad's name."
"Well, that settles it. We've named our son."
Mary suddenly felt a kick. "I think he approves," she said, though knowing it could either of them. She reached out for Tom's hand, placing it over her stomach. It took a moment before she felt it again and this time Tom's smile grew wider the same time hers did.
"I felt it," he clarified needlessly, "I felt him. I felt our baby."
"It's wonderful, isn't it?"
"I love them so much already," Tom said, sounding a little teary as there was another kick.
Mary smiled. "Now we just need to come up with something for our daughter."
"Do you have any ideas?"
Mary hesitated. "I've always liked the name Caroline, but I don't know. I'm not sure how well it will suit her but we have to name her something."
"There's no need for us to rush it," said Tom, hand still resting on her stomach, gazing down at it adoringly, as if he could see them both. "Maybe we'll know it once we meet her."
Mary wasn't sure. She didn't like the idea of not having a name picked out for her daughter. It didn't seem quite right to her. "I'm sure we'll figure out the right one before it's time." She was determined to.
