IV. Ted

The day Ted and Peggy had promised would be a clean slate – tomorrow – came and went without fanfare. Their paths crossed very little and Ted was taken out of the office most of the day by executive meetings. That tomorrow become the next day and the day after that, and when Peggy found herself alone in a room with Ted for the first time since their post-kiss truce, she overdid neutrality.

"Good morning, Ted," she said, entering the kitchen, skidding to a stop on the slick floor when she saw him. "How are you today?"

He eyed her curiously over the top of his coffee mug. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"Just great," Peggy told him. She cleared her throat, reigning in her cheerfulness.

Ted topped off his coffee as Peggy unscrewed the cap from her thermos. Without being prompted he poured the piping hot liquid into the thermos for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

The two of them stood with a respectable space between them, exchanging jaunty smiles, until Peggy said, "Have a good day, Ted." She turned and walked away, the smile collapsing the moment she was in the hallway. She stopped short when Ted called after her.

"Peggy, I forgot to mention something," he said, coming near her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Ken and I have a meeting with Chevy tonight. A couple of the guys are in town. They're staying at The Waldorf. They don't have much time and they asked us to meet them there for dinner." He paused, waiting. She said nothing and Ted added, "I thought you should know we would be there. I didn't plan… I thought you should know."

She nodded. "Okay, that's fine. They have excellent food! Enjoy yourself."

x

There were times Peggy couldn't read Ted at all, and his mention of the Chevy dinner was no exception. She couldn't talk to Joan or Phyllis or Stan about her confusion. Instead, she batted questions around her head and couldn't answer back with any certainty. Does he want me to stop by the meeting? Does he think I might be in the restaurant at the same time and he really just didn't want me to get the wrong idea?

Exhausted, Peggy decided to stay in the office until long after the dinner should have ended. Ted said so himself – the men were on a tight schedule, and from what she'd heard so far, these weren't the guys that tortured Ken. They really were in town for business.

x

She headed for the elevator. She told the bellhop to take her to the sixth floor. But Peggy let her curiosity get the better of her and said, "Sorry, never mind," before taking off in the direction of the restaurant.

Peggy saw him right away. He was at a table by himself – a table that was cleared except for a small plate and a half empty glass. The other three chairs were pushed close to the table, abandoned. Ted's suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair. He'd loosened his tie. He looked defeated and Peggy wondered if something bad had happened with Chevy.

She bit her lip and decided to sneak back out. As she turned, she collided with a waiter carrying a tray of someone's dinner. The contents crashed to the floor. A pile of spaghetti was dangerously close to her shoes. Peggy yelped and covered her mouth with her hands, both a gesture of apology and an attempt to quiet herself. She apologized softly and heard her name called out behind her. She turned to see Ted standing in front of his chair. He waved her over.

"Hello," she said.

"Are you okay?" Ted asked.

Peggy knew right away by the red tinge in his cheeks that he'd been drinking steadily, that he probably started while he waited for everyone else, drank during the salad course and doubled up during the steak. She was proved right when a waiter appeared and sets a glass in front of Ted. "Anything for you?" the young waiter asked.

"No, I'm not staying," Peggy responded.

"Bring her a rye rocks, please," Ted told him.

Peggy pursed her lips. Ted walked around to the other side of the table and pulled a chair out. He sat back down and said, "You might as well join me for a drink. Let me tell you about the meeting."

"How was it?" she asked, settling into her chair.

"Better than I expected. They're still not ready to dive into a campaign but I think Ken was happy to shift the conversation toward the creative side."

The waiter arrived with Peggy's drink and after she took the first sip Ted changed the subject. "Any luck selling your place?"

"No. It's getting to the point where I'm going to have to rent the first floor and move somewhere else. Or find a way to make it work."

Ted asked where she could stay in an emergency, if she wasn't interested in The Waldorf long-term, and Peggy relayed her strong desire not to end up at her mother's. The two of them exchanged stories about well-meaning but overbearing parents. She laughed at the image of a teenaged Ted trying to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night and feeling so guilty that he instead woke his parents to apologize for the attempted misdeed.

Peggy leaned back in her chair. The whiskey burned her stomach and pulsed heat through her body. She unbuttoned her jacket and removed it, draping it over an empty seat. She caught the path Ted's eyes made – from her face to her exposed shoulders and arms.

"I guess," he said clearing his throat, "disappointing my parents was far worse than defying them."

Peggy knew how to forget things and how to move forward. She was able to wear a persona around Ted that she could forget their intimate encounter, their admittance of something more than a platonic, working relationship. But seated across the table from him, engaged in a conversation about their childhoods and families was not something Peggy thought she'd ever be able to forget.

The waiter's shadow darkened their table. He asked if they both wanted another drink.

Peggy knew she was on the verge of too much alcohol – she was a little sweaty, her skin was burning, the lights were hazy. "No, thank you," she answered for both of them.

Ted paid the check and the two of them gathered their things. When they stood up, it was obvious to Peggy that Ted had surpassed his limit long before she'd even arrived at the restaurant. She put her hand on his back and asked, "You don't have a car here, do you?"

"I do," he told her, jiggling his suit jacket, the keys in the pocket.

She took a deep breath. "Come upstairs. I'll order you a coffee and you can splash some water on your face."

x

Her room smelled clean, like freshly vacuumed carpet and lemon disinfectant. Ted emerged from the bathroom, drops of water darkening the pale yellow of his shirt. Underneath the chemical scent Peggy caught a trace of his cologne – notes of sandalwood and something that reminded her of walking outside after a hard rain on a crisp, fall day.

"There's a coffee on the desk," she told him.

Ted picked up the mug, holding it in both hands. The cup seared the palms of his hands. He let the steam heat his face for a long while before he took the first bitter sip. He watched Peggy fidget around the room. He noticed the closet was open and one of Peggy's suits was the only thing hanging there. It looked so small and so feminine and something about it alone in the large, dark space sparked an odd mixture of sadness and affection in him. He thought about his trip home earlier that day, how Nan had been reading in the bedroom and eyed him hopefully. "I'm only here to change my suit," he had told her, and she'd gone back to her book without comment.

He had told his wife there was a meeting, and that it would probably go late. He knew the opposite to be true and the lie was a weight that strangled his breath. He'd amended his words, telling Nan there was a reason he spent so much time at work, and it was partly because he felt they'd grown apart and partly because he'd grown closer to the job and to the people there.

"Anyone in particular?" Nan had asked.

"Yes," was the strangled response Ted had provided. He'd apologized to her and spouted another lie, that nothing had happened.

But you want something to happen, was the statement she didn't say verbally, but the sentiment was left hanging heavy in the air between them.

Ted reached behind him to set the mug down, some of the coffee spilling over the sides. "Thank you, Peggy, but I better be on my way."

She followed him toward the door. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should leave your car and get a cab?"

"That's a good idea," Ted told her. He said goodnight and walked a few feet down the hall, stopping and leaning against the wall. He could leave the car and get a cab, but to where? He didn't want to go home.

x

Peggy unraveled the towel from her head and hung it from a hook in the bathroom. She ran a comb through her wet hair. She slipped her arms into a thin cotton robe, tying the belt loosely around her waist. Peggy leaned against the doorway, looking out into her room.

She considered turning on the television or reading. She wasn't tired. The shower she took had reversed the effects of the whiskey. Peggy crossed the room and stopped when she heard knocking on the door. She thought it might be across the hall but then the sound was louder and closer.

Peggy opened the door without removing the chain. "Ted," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She closed the door to remove the chain and it opened it again, letting him in. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. I've been standing out there all this time like some kind of lunatic. I should have gone to the lobby. I should have gotten my own room. I can't go home drunk." He paused, releasing a tired breath through his teeth. "I can't go home."

"I'm not sure what you mean?" Peggy asked.

Ted went to the desk. He saw that Peggy had drunk the coffee. He shifted to the bar cart and unscrewed the cap on a bottle without even looking to see if it was scotch or whiskey or gin. "I can't go home," he repeated. It was then Ted noticed that her slip was draped over the back of the desk chair and her black, lacy bra had been tossed onto the seat. As he backed up, his hand brushed the silk and he shuddered. He turned to her but closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't know…"

Peggy softened. "Stop apologizing," she said. She scuttled behind him, grabbing up her undergarments and tossing them on the floor of the closet before shutting the doors. "Why don't you sit down?"

Ted turned the desk chair around to face the bed. He sat, propping the bottle between his legs.

She sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. Her gesture was an answer to a question he hadn't asked. Yes, I'll listen.

Ted said he couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started to prefer spending time at work to spending time at home, but that was the truth. "I could apologize for being a terrible husband and father but what good does that do?"

"You're not-"

He interrupted her, holding a hand up, but he didn't say anything. Ted lost his train of thought when he allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of Peggy in a robe sitting on a bed. Her pale legs were mostly bared to him. He stared at the gap between the two sides of the white cotton that revealed her thigh. He raked his fingers through his hair. Ted reached behind him for the empty coffee mug and began to pour the liquor.

"Don't do that," Peggy said, standing up. She grabbed the bottle.

"Why not?" Ted asked. "Isn't this what people do when their life is in turmoil? Dull it all with drink?"

"Yes," Peggy said, "it's what some people do. But I've yet to meet anyone who could tell me that it was working well for them."

Ted set the mug back on the desk. He stood and was unsteady on his feet and Peggy's hand on his arm guided him to the bed. He scooted his back against the headboard, needing the support.

She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and returned with a glass of water. "Drink this," she instructed.

Ted obliged and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," she said again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll leave." He leaned forward and then collapsed back.

"Take your time."

"Frank would have a field day with this," Ted said. He released a short, self-deprecating laugh.

Peggy sat near his feet. "Why is that?"

Ted leaned his head against the wall. "He always warned me I was going to snap one day. He said he wouldn't always be around to level me out."

"And this is you snapping?" Peggy asked.

Every drink he had swallowed that night buzzed in his brain, made his vision foggy. His restlessness gave way to exhaustion. Ted's eyes drooped. "I don't get drunk because I'm having problems in my marriage," he told her, his words labored, his voice low. "It's not because Frank died. It's not about Draper." Ted lifted his arm, stretching his fingers out toward Peggy, but the effort was too much and his arm dropped to his side.

Peggy cupped her hand over his outstretched leg. She resigned herself to not knowing what he was going to say next. She made a move to get up but stopped when Ted continued on drowsily.

"It allows me to feel whatever I want," he told her. He murmured something indecipherable.

Peggy waited a beat, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders. When she knew he was asleep she got up slowly.

Her feet hurt and she wanted nothing more than to recline, but she was still wide awake. Peggy picked up her copy of Wide Sargasso Sea and situated herself on the opposite side of the mattress from Ted. The bed creaked when he slid down, getting comfortable with his head against the pillow. She opened the book and mostly stared at the words, mostly listened to Ted breathing and wondered what all of the things were the alcohol allowed him to feel.

x

He woke on his stomach, his face toward the window. The room was dim, but not dark, and Ted wagered it was early enough to get a couple more hours of sleep. His groggy ruminations on the time of day and his mental to-do list become irrelevant the more he stirred, the more he became aware of the other body sharing the bed.

Ted didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to disturb Peggy's sleep and he thought it would be far too intimate – far too damaging – to see her sleeping. Ted dug his fist into the mattress, hoisting himself up. He eased off the bed and spotted only one of his shoes, wondering when he'd kicked them off.

He stared at the curtains covering the window. He pictured himself squeezing his eyes shut and feeling his way toward the door to avoid feasting his eyes on Peggy, leaving one shoe behind. He knelt down and lifted the bed ruffle, reached under, patting the carpet. When he stood he neglected to close his eyes and there she was, on her back, lost in sleep.

The sight was just as destructive as he'd predicted. One of Peggy's arms was curled up above her head. Her book was at her side, her thumb still between the pages, marking the spot she'd been reading before falling asleep. The sash around her waist was no longer knotted and barely tied at all. The robe was loose around her chest, revealing the curve of her left breast. He closed his eyes before he allowed himself to focus on the way her left leg was bent at the knee and no part of the robe concealed her cotton underwear. Ted was so intent on not searing the image into his memory, of getting himself out of the room, that he didn't hear the rustling on the bed.

"Ted?"

He opened his eyes. Peggy was sitting up. He couldn't find his voice when she asked, "Are you… leaving?"

He dropped the only shoe he'd been able to find and moved toward the bed, lifting one knee onto the mattress. Ted maneuvered closer to her and clasped his hands around Peggy's head, sliding his fingers through her disheveled hair. Their mouths met in a heated kiss, their arms tangling, not able to get close enough.

Peggy latched her arm around Ted and pulled him down as she leaned back against the bed. The robe loosened completely and he longed to feel her skin against his. He kissed his way down her neck, to her chest. She arched her back, lifting closer to his mouth when he brushed his lips across her bare breasts.

She grabbed the open collar of his shirt and tugged until Ted's mouth covered hers. When her legs locked around his hips and he couldn't get any closer to her, he buried his face in the crook of Peggy's neck. He stilled his body, holding her.

Peggy felt the heated pulse of his breath against her neck. She closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him. She hadn't meant to fall asleep the night before. She was going to read a while, let Ted sober up before waking him to go home. Now that it had happened, that they'd slept side by side and found themselves locked in an intimate embrace, she didn't want to let him go. But she knew what was going to happen – could feel the way he prolonged their hold and yet retreated.

Ted kissed her shoulder and slowly peeled away from her. As he rolled to stretch alongside her on the bed, he pulled Peggy's robe together, briefly holding the soft fabric between his fingers at the center of her chest.

"I'm not sorry for that," Ted said, harkening back to his profuse apologies the night before.

Peggy smiled.

"But we can't. I can't. Not… not yet, Peggy."

"I understand," she told him. She sat up, tying her robe.

Ted got up and found his other shoe in the process. He retrieved it from the foot of the bed and sat with his back to her to put them on. They were both quiet while he ducked into the bathroom to swish mouthwash and splash water on his face.

He emerged from the bathroom and Peggy was still seated on the edge of the bed, facing the door. Ted dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands gripped her hips, kneading through the soft cotton. "You have to know how badly I want to stay in this room with you," Ted whispered.

Peggy nodded. She reached between them, fastening the top few buttons on his shirt. She straightened the collar and said, "I know."

"I promise, what we said the other night? I won't start treating you differently at work. I won't push you away. I just have to… I have to be upfront with Nan."

She nodded again. "I understand, Ted. I don't want to do anything that makes you feel guilty. It's just…" Peggy pressed her fingers to his chest and then pulled away. "It's not easy."

He stood up and kissed her forehead. "We're on the same page there." He backed up toward the door. "You'll be alright?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you at the office?"

She nodded. "Goodbye, Ted."

Ted opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He turned to her and their eyes locked. Peggy smiled and after a brief pause he turned and closed the door, both of them knowing it wasn't going to have to be a very long goodbye.