"You're the same person sometimes."
"I want Don back when I leave," Peggy told the partners, with her legs crossed and her hands resting on her stomach, which had grown quite a bit more in the past four weeks. It was now impossible for her to fit her old clothing, so she'd gone maternity shopping with her sister for new clothes.
Unfortunately for Peggy, the maternity section of stores didn't cater to the working woman so she had been reduced to housewife wear in the office. Today, she was sporting a sundress and a sweater on the brisk March afternoon, feeling more like a secretary than one of the creative directors.
Ted raised his eyebrows in the seat next to her and stared down at his lap.
"I'm not quite sure Don is ready to come back, dear," Jim said, having taken to demeaning her since she'd started dressing like his wife.
Peggy rolled her eyes and looked directly at Roger, who had been avoiding her glance until it had landed right on him.
"Oh come on. You guys are going to hand the reins over to what's-his-name? The guy Duck hired? Roger, Duck is incompetent and the guy he handed to us is equally so. I'm doing at least eighty percent of the work as it is, and then I'm re-doing everything he does, too. We didn't bring him with us six years ago for a reason."
Roger cleared his throat. Peggy knew his loyalties lied with Don, and he was probably the last one (except for maybe Joan) to agree that Don needed to take some times off.
"We did let go of Duck," Roger agreed, staring at his folder in front of him rather than at any of the partners.
"I just would feel more comfortable leaving knowing that someone who is more than capable of the job was here instead of me," Peggy said, trying to appeal to the partners' sensibility.
"He has been gone for four months now," Joan added, tapping her pen on the surface of the table twice before she spoke.
"But he threw away an account," Jim reminded them, raising his eyebrows and lifting a hand up to gesture the act of throwing.
Jim's glance moved over to Ted, who cleared his throat and sat up.
"He has a point," Ted said. "We don't want to risk another… outburst."
Peggy could feel her blood pressure raise a few notches. She knew that Jim was the one who'd need convincing, but for Ted to take his side was shocking.
"Okay, so we've got Pete and Harry in California full-time, and Ken and Bob are out there at least a week every month. Who in the hell do you think can take over around here?" She stared at Ted directly. "Because creative is a job for two people now, and you want someone who knows what they're doing here."
Jim tapped his fingers on the table and cleared his throat. "Well, it seems that Peggy, Joan and Roger are willing to bring Don back." Joan and Roger both looked at each other and then nodded slowly.
Jim stood and buttoned his jacket. He turned to Roger.
"I suppose you should be the one to deliver the good news," Jim said. "But if this screws us over, I'm holding you all personally responsible."
Peggy could feel her blood boil over as she followed Ted back to his office, slamming the door behind her.
"What the hell was that?"
"I think I should be asking that question," Ted said, starting to go to his desk, but pausing and turning to her. "You're vouching for Don?"
"It's time to pay him back," Peggy told him, starting to feel her eyes well with tears at the thought of even coming close to helping Don the way he'd helped her.
"Oh for Christ's sake, Peggy. You don't owe him nearly as much as you think you do."
"But you owe me! You didn't back me up at all! This entire situation is half your responsibility, and yet you're trying to make it harder for me. I'm trying to fix everything and you're just standing there doing nothing!"
Peggy heaved in a breath, realizing she was starting to shake.
"You think I don't want to help you out? Peggy, they all think I have my head up your ass. So if I don't jump to take your side, it's to make us look credible." Ted licked his lips. "It's weird for them to have a couple at the top of the workplace. Intentions get skewed."
Peggy wanted to correct him and point out that they hadn't had a single romantic interaction since he'd left for California. No kissing, no stolen glances, and certainly no sex. He'd only offered her hugs when she was crying and willing to accept them simply for comfort. But she knew he was well aware of their current situation, since they'd been living together for a few weeks now and the constant tension at home was almost unbearable.
"Don and Megan worked out fine. Sure, it took a while for all of us to get used to it, but really, everyone from SCDP has no real issue with it. This is between you and Cutler, isn't it?"
"The only reason Don got away with it is because no one had the balls to tell him no!"
Peggy flinched.
"Well, the numbers have been dropping since he's been gone," she pointed out, her voice reflecting how annoyed she was. "He's the heart and soul of this company, like it or not. He did what he wanted because none of us could work without him."
She could see the muscles in Ted's jaw tighten.
"Don's not the enemy," she reminded him. "He's an essential part of the company. And until you realize that we need him, this is going to be a constant struggle that I frankly don't care to be a part of."
She folded her arms across her chest and watched as Ted swallowed thickly and then nodded.
"You're right," he told her, though she felt no satisfaction from him admitting it this late in the game. "Look, Peggy, I'm sorry -"
"You need to stop apologizing for things, and just start doing the right thing the first time." She bit the inside of her lip. "I'm tired of being an after thought. I can't be an after thought."
Ted looked as if he were going to cry. Peggy decided it was time to cut the conversation short.
"I'm going home to take a nap. Pick up a pizza on your way home?"
"Sure," Ted managed before Peggy broke the distance between the two of them and wrapped her arms around his torso. She felt him freeze under her touch until she buried her face in his shirt. He then rested his arms across her back.
"I need to know you're on my side," she told him, speaking against his shirt. She felt his lips rest on her head, and she shut her eyes as a spark traveled down to her toes.
"I am," he reassured her, his breath hot on her scalp.
"Then prove it to me," she told him, as she left a few moments later.
That weekend, Ted's sons came to the city to stay with them for the first time since the split. Ted had gone to pick them up from his old house while Peggy stayed to make them dinner. She had never been so nervous to serve dinner before and she couldn't tell if it was because she anticipated that ten and seven-year-old boys were picky, or if she was genuinely afraid that she wouldn't make a good impression.
She was sitting at the set table, still wearing an apron over her housedress and just about ready to dig through her dresser drawers for her emergency cigarette stash when she heard the door open. She quickly stood and smoothed out her clothes as Ted herded the two boys into the house.
"I want you two to meet Peggy," he told them, setting down their bags by the couch. The two boys, according to Ted's recap of their phone call, were excited to have a sleepover on the living room floor for a night.
"This is Sam," Ted said, gesturing to the eldest boy who simply smiled at Peggy.
"And this is Ricky." Ted put a hand on the youngest boys' shoulders, and he shyly said hello, showing off his missing front teeth.
"Did you cook all of this?" Sam asked, picking a seat across from where Peggy had been. Despite the fact that they had a table big enough for six, she had only set the two seats on each side, leaving the heads of the table open. She figured the boys probably would have preferred to sit next to each other rather than her.
Peggy removed her apron as she nodded politely.
"Wow," Ricky mused, taking his seat next to Sam. "All for us?"
Ted was all smiles when he took the seat next to Peggy and immediately began to carve the roast chicken that sat in the center of the table. Peggy knew that Nan had stopped doing much around the house towards the end of the marriage, but she hadn't expected the boys to be so appreciative of a home-cooked meal.
"She was very excited when I told her that you two were coming," Ted explained.
She began to serve the mashed potatoes and green beans on each of the boys' plates as they helped themselves to the bread and butter set out in front of them. She glanced over at Ted as she passed him each plate and he served chicken on it before handing it to each boy. He looked so happy in that moment, as his children talked about school. She tried to commit the image to memory.
As they ate, Peggy listened to the boys talk about their friends and school, prompting only a few questions, such as what grade they were in (Sam was in fourth, Ricky in first), and their favorite sports (both liked soccer - Sam played on a team, and Ricky liked practicing with Sam in their backyard). She met every answer with enthusiasm, and the boys were eager to share more with her.
After everyone had cleaned their plates, Ted sent the boys to wash up in the bathroom and change into their pajamas before they were allowed to play the board games they had packed with them. Peggy had started to clear the table, and Ted helped after showing the kids where the bathroom was. When the dishes were in the sink, Ted reached for her hand. Peggy turned to him.
"I can't thank you enough for tonight," he told her, rubbing circles on her hand with his thumb. "Seeing you with the boys…" Ted trailed off and looked into space for a moment before turning his attention back to Peggy.
"They're such good kids. I really like them," Peggy told him with a smile.
With that, Ted leaned forward and kissed her for the first time since their late-night rendezvous that had resulted in the baby. Peggy kissed him back before pushing him away with a mischievous grin.
"We don't want to get caught by those two."
"They, uh…" Ted shrugged. "I told them you were going to be a part of the family soon. I'm pretty sure Sam has it figured out."
Peggy grinned, and then kissed him once more. The laughter of the boys now moved to the living room, and she pulled away.
"Now help me wash the dishes," she told him, handing him an extra sponge. As they scrubbed together while the kids played in the background, Peggy had never felt more at home. And as she dried the last of the glasses, she prayed that the feeling would never leave.