XX
"Mary," Sybil approached her sister as she heard the door open. "Let me help," grabbing the large garment bag from Mary's twisted fingers. When everything was on the floor in the foyer they hugged. "I'm glad you're back. You look different. The desert sun must suit you."
Mary had to sneak a smile at that. It had been actually quite cold in Lake Tahoe where she had spent the majority of her recent stay.
All the way back she was flooded with memories. Matthew had seen her off at the chartered plane terminal at McCarren where she would fly to JFK and switch to a larger transatlantic jet.
He kissed her long and hard, "I miss you already."
The lingering feel of his lips on hers allowing her to replace the hubbub of the airport and the noises of engine take off inside a cocoon of sensations and memories.
She had loved being with him at the condo. Matthew had flown back and forth from Vegas on chartered jets each day of his seminar, so she had long hours alone.
She had spent the week doing almost absolutely nothing at all. And it was wonderful. She couldn't remember a time when she had given herself such a luxury. Jerry had kept her informed twice a day on the horses via Face Time. They had done much the same when she was away in London so the two were used to working from a distance. Matthew was right in that she trusted Jerry implicitly to care for Jellybean, Mr. Banks, and the other horses stabled at Downton. Mary had him open the office to Claire, the temp office help so she could also pay some bills and listen to the voicemails left on the land line. She had already contacted Maggie Mason, the only student scheduled for that week as the others were younger and not as interested in continuing their training when the weather turned cold. Maggie understood that Mary would return and they'd have a talk about the future. She also promised to help out Claire in the office.
Mary felt everything was well in hand. So she relaxed. She slept and rested a great deal. The snow had been light and had not interfered with Matthew's flights. They had spent the time together completely apart from the world. They made love, ate meals by the fireplace, and took walks in the snow. The space allowed them to get to know each other.
The one's moods.
The other's irritations.
Mary discovered Matthew hardly ever forewarned her that he was late or coming in early, assuming that Mary would be busy doing other things and it hardly mattered when he showed up.
She thought otherwise.
Matthew soon realized Mary's level of organizational tidiness clashed with his own. Even though Lavinia would laugh and say his desk was a mess, Matthew generally always knew the location of everything he needed. He was neat with his clothing and always either put dirty dishes immediately in dishwasher or cleansed them by hand at the sink.
Mary seemed to think it was all optional.
He had shrugged it off, rationalizing that once they settled down more permanently, she'd see it was better his way.
Mary thought Matthew would be more considerate once their schedules were back to normal.
Neither really wanted to start petty arguments. At least not on the honeymoon. Therefore they both danced around the biggest elephant in the room, the issue of telling the family about their new marital state. And Mary's pregnancy.
"We have to be in some contact with the outside world if just to say we're alive," Matthew half joked as he stirred the pot of pasta the night before she was to leave.
He had made the one dish he knew by heart. Mary loved the primavera, scooping the last into her mouth, and licking her lips slowly while giving him a wink much to Matthew's delight. But Matthew also noticed she left her plate unwashed in the sink afterward. He not so surreptitiously washed it while they talked about finishing their binge watching Westworld on HBO.
She did not offer to help with the dishes.
Matthew's lip twitched at the edge in amusement.
About an hour later Mary was rightly confused by the plot that played around with the nature of reality and human frailties. But she refused to give in and began to watch the penultimate episode. Matthew slipped out of her arms and moved towards the kitchen. She thought he was refilling his mug of coffee but instead she heard his hushed speaking voice. Soon it became clear he spoke with his mother back in Manchester.
Mary left the living room to go to Matthew. He leaned against the countertop, his eyes beetled back and forth. Mary knew that signaled Matthew's unease at deceiving his mother. She knew also that any rift with Isobel hurt Matthew.
He licked his lips rapidly, "Yes Mother, I'm fine. Just busy. I know I've not been in touch …" His voice strained, tense. "I'm sorry about that. We'll have dinner when I get back to make up for it. I'll book us a table at your favorite place, L'Atelier."
When he rang off, he slumped heavily against the counter. Mary walked over. "You okay?"
He gave her a short nod, but said nothing. His eyes stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.
Mary ventured, "Should I be with you when you tell her?"
"No." His tone was abrupt. "I'll tell her by myself." He said nothing else.
Mary turned to leave him alone. Matthew's hand stayed her movement. He tugged on her arm, giving her a ragged voiced apology. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling her in for a hug. But he said no more about it.
They left the TV on as they escaped to the privacy of the bedroom. He needed her. She felt it.
No words required. She led him to the bed. Undid the ties to her robe. Beneath, she was naked. His breath caught in his throat as she revealed herself to him. She flicked open each side of the robe seductively.
Slowly running her fingers along the slender nape of her neckline, Mary's tongue slipped around the edges of her mouth in a motion intent upon mesmerizing Matthew.
Her eyes stared boldly into his. His intent look induced within her a sensation of such orgiastic need, Mary laid down on the bed, her legs apart. Her fingers inched towards her inner thigh.
She sighed leisurely, her eyes half lidded in erotic pleasure. Still taking in Matthew who watched her, rapt with fascination.
Her invitation was clear.
Matthew moved to gently lay beside her. His fingers floated softly over her breasts. She panted at his touch. His tongue tasted her. Light licks and flicks caressing her skin, arousing her to peaks of desire.
He wanted to devour her.
Or be devoured by her….
All his senses were on fire when she took him by surprise.
Mary scrambled on top of his body. She skimmed her breasts against his hot skin. Her lips enwrapped his engorged arousal and her tongue, slick and slippery, started to move in strong strokes up and down. Her arms maneuvered around his body. Her head bobbed as her fingers squeezed his buttocks in rhythm to his own uncontrollable bucking against her mouth. Her nails pinched him to deepen his climax. His body stiffened and his mouth was dry.
She took the tip and stroked it with her mouth and tongue.
Matthew's mouth opened to bursts of syncopated barely audible sounds of increased strength as the sensations wracked his body. Intense, glorious torrents of heat and sexual frenzy. "Oh…. fuck fuck Mary," his voice in dry heaves.
He could hardly breathe. Or think. His concentration solely on Mary. Her hair wantonly tossed along his lower torso, she moved back and forth between taking all of him and then flicking her tongue and squeezing her lips to increase his tormented pleasure. Guttural sounds sprang helplessly from his mouth. The pleasure was such that he had never before experienced it.
Transcendant. Voracious. It took over his body. Like tickling, stinging sensations along every nerve fibre, he was desperate for it to go on forever.
He trembled as he came, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. A waterfall of bliss surrounded him.
He was shattered into a million pieces. His body slumped, sweat pouring down his cheeks.
Mary released him, a satisfied smile snaking across her face.
Matthew's eyes fluttered. He could not speak. His body still shuddering in ecstasy.
She moved towards the bathroom to cleanse.
Matthew, his senses returning, followed her.
They ended up in the shower. The water was steaming hot. The multiple massaging jets pulsated against their bodies.
Mary spread her legs open to Matthew's face and touch. His hands roamed freely over her breasts, abdomen, and lower torso. He reached with his tongue and his lips towards her G spot. He licked and pushed his tongue in and out of the center.
She pulled towards him, groaning louder with each flick and pressure point met. He rubbed harder, his tongue like sensual sandpaper furthering her pleasure peaks. He seemed relentlessly determined to give her a mind-blowing climax. He sucked and lapped harder and deeper until she uttered a piercing groan and pushed her knees and thighs against his face until he thought he could no longer breathe.
He continued to push her to sweet torment, until she gasped one final time, shivered and shook in a deliciously slow motion slide against the wall of the shower. Matthew's arms protecting her as they curled limbs and heads against each other.
…Mary remembered all of that night on the long flight back home. They had stayed locked in various forms an embrace, unable and unwilling to let go.
To never break with each other.
Realizing that as one, they were strong.
And now she was apart from him. She felt bereft. A missing part of herself.
Was that why she was down? Had he already made her weaker? She feared that, plunging headlong into this relationship. She would feel too much.
The helpless, empty feeling she had gazing upon his pained expression when he spoke with Isobel haunted her as she took that long flight home alone. She wanted nothing more than to take away his pain.
Was this what it was like to love? To be loved?
Mary returned to her London townhouse, speaking just briefly to Matthew in Las Vegas before he was to venture to Vancouver, BC with Morton to scout more property development opportunities. He had called her to make sure she had arrived back in the UK safely. He had rung off shortly thereafter saying nothing more than he loved her and would be back on Saturday night.
She missed him with an ache she knew would never go away until he was in her arms again.
Realizing that made Mary shiver. But she could not long take time to reflect because Sybil greeted Mary with a burst of energy. She had been house sitting and so knew her sister had extended her stay in America. After they hugged, Mary merely smiling at her sister's reference to her looks.
Matthew had said she had that pregnant glow.
Maybe she could just say it was the winter desert sun and let it go at that.
Edith was to arrive within the hour. "Have a good catch up." Sybil was done for the term and she was ready just to relax.
"Where's the corkscrew?" Sybil pulled a wine bottle out of the short rack on Mary's countertop.
"Umm.." Mary glanced around. "Must be in the cutlery drawer."
"Want some?" Sybil held up the zinfandel.
Mary rubbed her brow, saying she hoped with a studied non chalance, "No. I've got to drive back tomorrow morning early to Downton."
"You could have said…" Sybil looked concerned. "We don't have to have dinner."
Mary responded quickly, "No. No. I wanted to see you both. It was just a long flight."
Sybil looked more closely at her sister. "You do look a bit peaky now I see you closer. Your face is fuller too. Are you retaining water?"
Mary's hands flew to her now flushed cheeks. "Of course not..." But that didn't fool her sister.
"If I didn't know better …." Sybil began to assess Mary critically.
"Sybil …" Mary's short tempered exasperation with her sister's keen observational skills were heard in her tone. "Why not keep your opinions to yourself."
Sybil stopped talking. Stared at Mary. Unblinking. All knowing.
Mary's eyes slowly closed, her shoulders slumped. She knew …. Sybil knew… and the jig was up. Mary threw up her hands. "I didn't mean that the way it came out."
In a gesture that took Mary by complete surprise, Sybil immediately rushed over and gave her sister a big hug. "I think it's wonderful!"
Neither had to state the obvious.
"You do?" Mary was dryly skeptical.
"No…" Sybil admitted, smirking when she released Mary from the embrace. "I think you must be out of your mind. But I don't want to sound unsupportive. It's all the thing today having kids whenever you want with whoever you want. Papa won't like you not being married. Or that the dad I'm presuming is a very recently divorced man he already loathes."
And that brutal honesty was exactly why Mary did not want to have this conversation with Sybil.
They were interrupted by the knock on the door.
Mary opened it for Edith. They kissed cheeks.
If she had to tell someone before Matthew arrived back, her sisters were her best bet.
She could use the moral support she'd probably receive.
After they gave her a right verbal bollocking.
As if to prove Mary's unspoken belief Sybil bluntly announced to Edith, "Mary's pregnant with Matthew's baby. She's afraid to tell Papa."
"That's not entirely true…" Mary's attempt to contradict Sybil's words were shut down with a glare from her.
"We won't be able to help unless you tell us everything." Sybil reasoned.
Edith, still taking it all in, stepped to Mary's defense. "She can tell us when she wants to." But even she looked with concern over at her sister
Mary signaled defeat. "Sybil's right. There is no point in denying the truth." And she gestured for both women to sit at the table. "And really, I don't want to. There's nothing wrong. It's all actually quite wonderful."
And in that moment of honest clarity, she took out her engagement ring and wedding band and placed them back where they belonged. On the third finger of her left hand. Where Matthew had initially slipped them on her finger on their wedding day.
A flicker of that memory crossed Mary's face as she did so. It felt so good to rid herself of all the pretense.
Sybil's burble of excitement was unmistakable. "Oh my God Mary!" A squeak of delight. "Married? Really?"
Edith shook her head, trying to catch up. "You married Matthew? In America?"
Mary clasped both her sister's hands and responded calmly responded, "Yes. On Tuesday of last week."
Edith was astonished. "And the baby?"
Mary reclined back in the chair. Took a deep breath as both Edith and Sybil awaited her answer. "Yes. I'm about two months along. I will go back to see my ob-gyn next week with Matthew to get the first ultrasound."
"Two months?" Sybil was incredulous. "Talk about one and done!"
Mary scowled, "Don't be vulgar. "
Sybil rejoined, "You started it. And…Matthew of course." Dragging out his name as a wicked smile crossed her face.
Mary had to shake her head in a wry smile. "I know. I know. It could sound very sordid. Believe me I've gone over and over it in my head on the return flight. How to tell everyone? We want to tell the news to Mama and Papa together, but I'm glad you know. At least I have a sense of how they might react."
"What about granny? She'll certainly have something to say." Edith noted, pouring herself a glass of wine.
Mary could respond with relief, "She already knows."
"How?" Both sisters asked at virtually the same moment. Sybil adding, "over the phone? She'd hate that."
"No. In person." Mary explained. "I went to Las Vegas to tell Matthew about the baby as soon as I found out. He … He was on the verge of asking me to marry him, I wasn't quite ready to accept. So I escaped back to Downton to think only to find no one there. So I stayed with Granny and she and I talked. She made me think out what I…" She paused, "…what we were doing. Did we want this to last? Were we getting married to please the family? Or because we love each other?"
She turned her rings absent mindedly as she spoke, "To give him a chance to prove that he meant what said when he divorced. That he would spend the rest of his life working to make our life a happy one."
"And will he?" Edith asked seriously, her hand gripping Mary's. "If so, you have my full support."
Sybil leaned closer, awaiting Mary's response. Her eyes dark and full with love.
Mary had to answer honestly. "I hope so. I guess only time will tell."
"The ever-practical Lady Mary Crawley." Sybil replied sarcastically. "Don't you ever let your heart out of that cage?"
Mary blinked rapidly. Tears formed at the side of her face. Oh God what has that man done to me? I'm getting soft in the head. "I do." She tried to sound firm. "I'm just not used to it."
Sybil's chair moved closer to Mary's. "Then get used to it." She said with emphasis. "Don't let this chance of happiness slip out of your fingers. I'm glad you realize it's going to take time, but don't let your fears overtake the love."
Mary tried to stem the tears. "Goodness, it must be the baby making me do this." She tried to straighten up in the chair.
She was trembling, so unlike her. She crooked her head to each of her sisters in turn, "Thank you for understanding and being on my side. I know I'm not always the easiest person to get along with but I think I'm going to need your support more than ever." She paused, then amended it to "We will need it. I want you to love Matthew as much as I do. Papa will take some persuading. There are secrets between them. I don't know what they are and Matthew says they have nothing to do with him. But I fear the fallout has just begun."
Sybil reached for the wine bottle again. "I will do your drinking for you then. We're all going to need it."
They shared a needed laugh.
Edith then chimed in with. "Since we got all that angst out of the way, can I now be completely shallow and ask to see those gorgeous rings up close. Not that I don't love the rings Bertie chose, but my goodness those settings are stunning."
Mary, so pleased her siblings were willing to give Matthew the benefit of that doubt, held out her left hand for both to see.
XX
The flight home uneventful, Matthew arrived at his flat in time to shower, change into his best grey suit, and hail a taxi. The weather had turned cold and damp so he pulled on a coat and gloves. He had already texted Mary several times to tell her he'd arrived back and would call her later that night. She was dining with the Masons who had traveled to York to see their daughter compete.
Matthew was to pick his mother up by 7:30 at her hotel as she hated traveling in his two seater. They'd ride together to the restaurant. He had confirmed the reservation already.
In the taxi he mulled over yet again how best to tell her the news. He had marshalled his arguments like his days at uni performing moot court procedures. He loved Mary. She loved him. They were having a child. They got married.
Simple.
Straightforward.
The absolute truth.
He groaned and pushed his fingers against his forehead. Who was he kidding. She'll be right royally pissed.
He had no more time to think about it as the taxi pulled up to the hotel in Mayfair. She, of course, was waiting on the pavement outside.
Matthew smiled and got out to help her. He kissed her cheek, "hello Mother."
They piled back inside the taxi and he gave instructions to L'Atelier in Covent Garden and sat back against the seat.
"How was your day?" He asked, the pleasantries taking over for a bit.
Before the fall.
"Lovely. I had lunch with Mavis at the hospital. She's still going strong even at 85 doing volunteer work." Isobel chatted a bit more, but Matthew lost the thrust of the conversation.
He was still deep in thought when Isobel turned, said "Of course that was before she took off for the moon." And raised an eyebrow.
"That's nice…" He muttered vaguely. And then did a double take. "What?"
She smiled sardonically. "Thank you for coming back to Earth. Whatever is on your mind?"
Matthew didn't have a chance to answer. The taxi had gotten stuck in traffic. The driver informing them it might take some time to get to their destination.
Matthew grunted noisily and paid the fare. He exited the vehicle and helped his mother out the other passenger side. They walked in silence the few blocks to Covent Garden.
"I might start a shift at the local retirement home myself…" Isobel returned to the subject of her friend.
Matthew knew it was now or never.
They had nearly arrived at the restaurant. Matthew said, "I have something to tell you Mother." He took a deep breath. "I've… erm… I've gotten married."
But Isobel didn't quite hear in the rush of wind as the door to the restaurant opened.
"What's that dear? I don't think I heard you…" She took her son's arm.
They both stood on the threshold of L'Atlier. The hostess opening the door to escort them inside.
"Let's…. Let's get out of this wind." Matthew shivered. He had no idea if it was because of the cold or what he was about to divulge.
Again. Irritated that he chose the moment poorly, he followed her inside to the warmth.
Isobel gave her jacket to the coat check monitor. Matthew had helped out of her coat before taking off his gloves.
He took them off. Isobel happened to look down just at that moment.
"What is that?" She asked, staring down at his left hand. "That is not your wedding band. Why do you have that on? What did you say just before? I thought I must have heard you wrong." Her voice got slightly shrill.
The look she gave Matthew was one of utter astonishment.
He swallowed hard, his eyes beetling back and forth. Dammit, he thought. He had not ever considered taking off the ring before meeting his mother for dinner.
Only way ahead is forward.
"I said I am remarried. This is my new wedding ring. Mary and I exchanged vows while I was in America. I want to tell you all about it." Matthew was proud of himself. He had managed to get it out without any hesitations. He wanted to sound confident. Happy. Because he was.
The maître d' waited for Matthew to tell their reservation. He then waved them inside and escorted them to a corner of the restaurant.
There was no more time to talk until they arrived at their table.
The Sommelier approached. Matthew ordered a glass of Côtes-du-Rhône Rouge, his mother's favorite. He would complete the rest when they ordered their food. He wanted a whisky desperately, but decided a clear head was needed for what was to come.
His fingers thrummed on the table.
Isobel looked expectantly. "You were saying…" She'd give him no quarter.
"I think you heard me Mother." He stood his ground as well. There was nothing to be ashamed about. This was a time for confidence. "Mary and I are married."
But he bit the side of his mouth as he spoke.
Isobel thanked the server who brought her wine glass. She set it on the table. "You married while on this business trip?"
"Yes." His one word response. He realized he should probably say something else. "In Lake Tahoe actually. Not Las Vegas."
"Well that does make a difference," his mother observed a little too coolly.
Matthew sighed heavily.
Isobel tried to be patient with her son, but his deliberate subterfuge was frustrating. "You were just divorced after all."
Matthew's head turned nervously from side to side. This was the tricky part. Okay, his mind replied to himself sarcastically the whole thing was the tricky part. He cleared his throat, "Mary's pregnant. We …." Damn, the hesitations again. "...thought it was the best thing."
"I see." His mother's only response. She fell silent in thought.
Matthew scratched his ear. "She's about two months along." Hoping that might help somehow, he realized too late it would only set off alarm bells.
"Two months?" Isobel's mouth opened wide in bewilderment. "You mean you were with her while married to Lavinia?"
Matthew closed his eyes. He knew his mother would take Lavinia's side. As it should be he knew. He had given her little time to adjust and she thought of her ex daughter in law like her own child. He had torn that relationship asunder.
But he wouldn't look back.
"We were separated," His answer strained.
"Semantics." Isobel shot back. "It all sounds very tawdry and sordid. I'm frankly in shock Matthew. You seem a completely different person from the son I raised. You were married. Settled down. And then all this happened. With a woman I've not even met. That you now tell me consorted in an affair while she knew you were married. And now you want me to accept some quickie wedding because you want to hide the shame of a child born of an affair and out of wedlock?"
Matthew tried to hold in his anger. His mother had every right to vent. "I know it is a lot to take in…"
"It's the height of irresponsibility." Her words curt. Meant to hurt.
"We are married. We are having a child. I think it is very responsible." He lashed back. "Many a mother might be glad that a son married the mother of his child."
"I'd assume most would be happier if it was done without the repugnancy of an affair."
Mother and son fell silent again. Matthew's mouth was tightly shut. He had no real answer to that. "I am sorry it appears that way to you. I take full responsibility for my actions. I know you think I betrayed my marriage. And maybe I did, but it is all in the past now. I'm divorced. I don't intend to look back anymore. You can visit Lavinia whenever you want, but my first loyalty now is to Mary and our child. I won't have you bringing bitterness into it. I want you to know Mary. If you knew her, you'd not think badly about her. The baby was unexpected, yes…"
Isobel felt like she had been hit by a body blow. It was taking her a great deal of time to recover. She had never spoken so harshly to Matthew. She knew he hated speaking the same back to her.
She tried again, more calmly. "I am just very surprised Matthew. You got married without telling me."
"Or anyone actually." He confessed. "Mary came to tell me the news of the baby. She accepted my proposal. It…" He threw his hands up as he tried to explain how it felt at the time. "It felt right to do it then. To start living the rest of your life with the woman you loved. To not wait, or hesitate."
He felt his mother soften slightly, so he plunged ahead, "I have found the love of my life, Mother. You may not want to hear it but it is the truth. I am happy." Matthew smiled suddenly, the edges of his lips quivering. "So very happy. I want you to be happy for us. It might take some time but I'm willing to wait. So is Mary."
Matthew sensed the waiters hovering nearby. He hoped they had not caused to much of a stir with the tense atmosphere surrounding their table.
He motioned them over, to give his mother some time to mull over what he said. He ordered the five course meal on the Christmas menu as it was the easiest option.
When that was done, he turned again to Isobel. Venturing with some caution, "Would you like to see a picture of the wedding?"
Isobel bowed her head. "I do hope it is not as I fear."
Matthew grinned, hoping the ice between them had thawed just a bit. "I think you'll be pleased." And he thumbed through his iPhone files until he found the one he was looking for. He handed it over to his mother.
She gasped in disbelief upon seeing the picture he had chosen. It was the one taken by the photographer outside, the newly married couple against the gorgeous hues of the setting sun.
"Lovely…" She murmured, looking closely at the bride and groom. Their genuine happiness. The love that shone through the image on the screen.
"I wanted it to be special for Mary." Matthew explained. "Since it was so quick." His words drawn out, meant to hope his mother understood.
"You chose this place?" She scrolled to the next picture. This one inside by the roaring hearth.
"Yes. I happened to be in Lake Tahoe for a business meeting, but I saw the hall on the way out of town. I telephoned to arrange the wedding when Mary accepted my proposal."
Isobel scrolled through a few more of the photographs. She had to admit he had put a great deal of careful thought into the ceremony. She smiled enigmatically at the one of them dancing. Mary in his arms, laughing slightly at something he whispered in her ear. The look in Matthew's eyes as he took in his new bride was particularly noticed by his mother.
She handed the phone back over. Her wayward son waiting nervously for her final judgement. "It's very nice."
Matthew visibly relaxed.
But Isobel would admit to no more than that.
Withheld pending final approval, Matthew thought. It was enough for now. He was mentally shot with the evening's events making his mind reel. He had managed to get out all he wanted to say about his love for Mary. His pledge to his family.
The rest would come with time.
He nodded towards the servers who had come with their appetizers. Neither mother nor son wanted to draw battle lines any more.
Isobel asking when she would finally meet this mysterious bride of his?
"Mary is back in Yorkshire seeing to her business. I had hoped we could make our way over to Manchester one day next week." He answered as smoothly as he dared.
Isobel grazed the side of her mouth with the napkin, "That would be agreeable."
"Thank you, Mother." Matthew's sincerity was heard in the warm intonation of his voice. He understood what it took for her to take this step. "We will make final arrangements when I get to Downton."
Isobel glanced up from her consommé de boeuf. "You will live in Yorkshire then?"
"I haven't really figured that out yet." He admitted, his mouth curved in discomfit. "I've still got to tell Tom about these events. And Mary's family is yet to be informed as well. There's still a lot to do." His fork idly tapping the plate as he considered that this was just the first in a long list of confessions they were to make. And then there was Robert…
He involuntarily groaned at those thoughts.
Isobel replied with matter-of-fact ease, "You did bring it on yourself. I don't have much pity for you."
He answered contritely. "No Mother. I don't expect you would."
But mother and son exchanged mutual glances of amusement.
A cease fire had been reached.
The rest of the meal was eaten in companionable silence.
XX
Matthew threw himself into the chair. He had poured himself a large single malt whisky as a reward for getting through the evening. His mother had not unconditionally accepted his news. She remained cool and cautious. But neither had she shut him out. Or refused to meet Mary.
So he had that to report to Mary. He knew it was late, but his jet lag had kicked in and though mentally tired, he was wide awake.
He risked it, hitting contact number on his mobile.
She answered after a few rings.
"Hello you." She said, stifling a yawn.
"Sorry to wake you." He said, but hearing her voice was tonic to his soul.
"How'd it go?" Knowing his dinner with Isobel probably just ended, Mary sat up in bed.
"Better than it could have been." Matthew replied, choosing not to report his mother's upsetting words about their affair. "She loved the wedding pictures."
Mary knew he was keeping the worst from her. For the time being she let it go. "I'm glad."
Matthew tried to break the tense air with "Of course I put certain other pictures in a secure file app I downloaded earlier before I gave her the mobile."
"Well I should hope so." Mary laughed. They had taken a couple of selfies of themselves in bed the morning she had made ready to leave. One of them was of a semi nude Mary, a sheet covering just her legs, with Matthew also naked but positioned behind her. His arms around her, angling the lens to get the both of them.
He gave a deep chuckle at that beautiful memory. "How are you my darling? I hope to get up to see you tomorrow night."
"I'm getting back into the swing of things." Mary said. "Sybil and Edith will be here tomorrow as well. It'll be my turn now to tell."
"We'll do it together." He heard her stifle another yawn. "But go back to sleep. I'll text you when I'm leaving."
He paused, "I love you."
A slow smile crept over Mary's face in reply, "I love you too. I've missed you these past days."
"I'll be there before you know." And he clicked off.
Sitting in the semi darkened room, Matthew finished his drink and ruminated on how best to approach Robert with the revelation that the man who knew all his secrets was also now his son in law.
XX
Thanks to Apollo888 for encouraging me to write more MM in Tahoe and lilyrowan for long conversations about certain elements in this chapter-esp the conversion with Isobel which was challenging for me to write. Hope you liked it. Reviews are wonderful.