Chapter 7: Divorce and Marriage

Two months later, Fran was sitting on her parent's couch watching TV, her hand rested on her slightly rounded belly. She was now around fifteen weeks pregnant and had just started showing. It was finally starting to feel real that she was having a baby. Up until the last week or so, she had just been feeling like she had the flu.

Things were going well with her and Maxwell. Over the last two months, they had been dating, trying to be a real couple while at the same keeping a low profile since Fran had just separated from her husband. Fran hadn't wanted to move in together just yet. It didn't seem right to move out of her marital home and straight into Maxwell's mansion right away.

The doorbell suddenly rang and Fran got up to answer it, announcing loudly, "I'll get it!" Her mother was in the kitchen preparing their lunch and her father was in the den watching TV. She opened the door to find a man she didn't recognise standing in front of her. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Fran Roberts?" he asked.

"Yes..."

The man handed her the large envelope he was holding and told her, "This is for you. You've been served." And with that, he walked away.

"What?" Fran remarked, more to herself than anyone. She opened the envelope and took out the papers inside, quickly realizing what they were: divorce papers.

"Who was that?" Sylvia asked, emerging from the kitchen.

She showed the documents to her mother, "Apparently David filed for divorce."

She looked over the papers for a moment, before shrugging, "Well, you had to know this was coming. You're having another man's baby."

"I know, but it's still a little sad," Fran commented, setting the papers aside. "Two years of marriage down the drain just like that."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have slept with someone who wasn't your husband?"

"Ma!"

"Not that I'm not happy you and Maxwell finally got together after all these years," Sylvia said, making her way back into the kitchen. Fran followed behind her. "You know that man is like a son to me. I just feel sorry for David."

"May I remind you that he was cheating on me too?" Fran stated. "And for longer than I was cheating on him, I might add."

"I'm not judging. I just think you went about this all wrong, that's all," she told her, handing her a plate with a sandwich on it. "You shoulda ended things with him if you wanted to be with Maxwell."

"I know Ma, I know," she nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "But what's done is done. I can't do anything about it now." Her hand came to rest on her belly, "I just want to focus on the positive side of this situation and that's this beautiful little baby Max and I will be having in six months time."

"Well I am excited to finally get a grandchild outta you," Sylvia remarked. She set her own plate, as well as the plate she had prepared for her husband, down on the kitchen table. She then made her way over to open the kitchen door, adding, "Now we just have to get the two of you hitched." She turned away from her daughter for a moment and called out across the apartment, "Morty, ya lunch is ready!"

She rolled her eyes as her mother sat down beside her, "That's not gonna happen any time soon. I can't even think about marrying Maxwell right now. I'm not even divorced yet!"

"So you're okay with my grandchild being a bastard?"

"What is this, the 1800s?" Fran asked. "It's the 21st century, there's nothing wrong with having a baby out of wedlock."

"But you should at least be living with your baby's father," she pointed out.

"Max wants me to move back into the mansion," she replied. "I'm the one that's been putting it off."

"Why?"

"I just felt weird moving straight in with Maxwell after leaving David," Fran admitted. "Plus I didn't want to rush things with me and Max."

"If you weren't currently carrying his child, I would agree with you," Sylvia started. "But you're being ridiculous, darling. You think living together is a big step? Wait until you have that baby. That little one is gonna change your lives a hell of a lot more than living together will."

She sighed, "I guess you're right. Besides, I should probably get settled over at the mansion before I get too far along in this pregnancy. I've got to move all my stuff over there, plus we need to buy things for the baby..." She gave her mother a worried look, just thinking about all the things they needed to do before the baby arrived.

"I think you need to talk to Maxwell," she told her daughter.

"I think so."

"So good news," Fran announced as she entered Max's office.

He looked up from what he was doing and smiled at her as she proceeded to sit on the edge of his desk. "Oh?" he remarked, reaching over to rest his hand on her knee.

"Well I wouldn't call it good news per se," she admitted. "It's good for us, not so much for David." Maxwell frowned at the mention of Fran's husband. She gave him a look, "Don't pout. I'm having your baby, remember? You have nothing to be jealous about."

He sighed, "So what's the news that's supposedly good for us?"

"David filed for divorce, he sent me the papers this afternoon," Fran announced.

"Oh...I'm sorry?" he responded, not sure if she was happy or sad about this.

"It's fine," she told him. "I'm okay with it, really."

"That's good."

"It is," Fran smiled, taking his hand in her own. "So I think it's a good time for me to move in. If that's okay with you, of course?"

Maxwell grinned, standing up and pulling her into a hug. "Of course it's okay," he told her, giving her a quick kiss. "I've been wanting you to move in here for the last two months."

"Well I'm finally saying yes," she replied.

"Good, I'm going to feel so much better having you and the baby here," he admitted, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I've been worried sick with you being at your mother's."

"I've been over here almost every day," Fran reminded him. "It's not like you haven't seen me."

"Still, it's different to you actually living here," Max pointed out. "Getting to sleep next to you every night and waking up to your gorgeous face every morning. Being there for every bout of morning sickness, every late night craving, every kick." His hand came to rest on her stomach, causing her to smile.

"We're finally gonna be a real couple," she realised. "No more games, no more sneaking around."

"That sounds wonderful," he smiled, kissing her once more. "How soon can you move in?"

"We should probably tell the kids first," Fran reminded him.

"I've already spoken with the children about this, they're so excited for you to move back in here."

"Really?"

Max nodded, "They've missed you."

"I've missed them too," she admitted. "And I missed you, so much."

"Not as much as I missed you."

Someone suddenly cleared their throat, causing the couple to look to the door to find Maggie and Michael standing there. "Hey," she greeted them with a smile.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?" Fran responded, heading over to give them both a hug.

"I'm fine. What about you, how are you feeling?" she asked, reaching over to rub her former nanny's belly.

"Very pregnant," she told her with a chuckle. "But good."

"We actually have some news," Max announced, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Guess who's moving back in?"

Maggie looked between back to Fran, "You guys are finally gonna live together? That's so great! Not to mention very necessary, considering you're having a baby."

"So, will we be attending a wedding any time soon?" Michael asked.

"Oh God no, I'm not even divorced yet," Fran commented. "That's the last thing we're thinking about right now."

Maxwell's smile immediately dropped a little and he and Maggie exchanged worried looks. "Uh Fran, why don't you go show Michael your latest ultrasound pictures?" Maggie suggested. "He's really been wanting to see them."

She gave her a puzzled look, "He has?"

"I have?" Michael echoed, looking to his wife in confusion.

"Yeah he loves anything medicine related, his father is a doctor after all," Maggie lied, ushering them out into the hallway.

"He's a plastic surgeon, not an OBGYN," he remarked.

"Are you trying to get rid of us?" Fran asked.

"Of course not," she insisted. She added, "Now go," before shutting the door in their faces, locking it behind them. Once she heard Fran and Michael leave, Maggie turned back to her father and commented, "Dad, you have a big problem."

"I know," Maxwell replied. "I had no idea Fran felt that way about getting married."

"Haven't you guys talked about it?"

"No, but she's always wanted to get married. I thought she would be thrilled when I proposed to her," he said, taking a small, velvet box out of his pocket. "And I've already bought the ring."

"You know what? I think Fran's just feeling a little overwhelmed right now," Maggie started. "I mean, she's having a baby, plus she's getting divorced. She's got a lot on her plate. Maybe you should hold off on the proposal for a little while?"

He sighed, opening the box and taking a look at the diamond ring he had been hoping to put on Fran's finger very soon. "Don't worry Dad, you guys will get married eventually," she added, placing her hand on his arm comfortingly. "Just focus on the baby for now."

"That's probably good advice," Max nodded, turning and making his way towards the wall safe behind his desk. He took down the painting that covered the safe. He then opened it, put the ring inside, before closing it back up again.

He turned back to his daughter and she smiled at him, "Come on, let's go find Fran and Michael before they get suspicious."

"I think they're already suspicious," he pointed out. "You weren't very subtle about getting them out of the room."

"Yeah, I think I learnt my lack of subtlety from Fran," Maggie chuckled, causing Maxwell to laugh as well.

"So you're not going to ask Fran to marry you?" Rodney asked.

Maxwell downed the rest of his drink, setting the glass down on the bar. He gestured for the bartender to refill his glass, before turning to his friend, "I will eventually. I just don't think it's the right time. She said she's not even thinking about marriage right now."

"Probably because the two of you haven't discussed it yet," he pointed out. "How can you expect to be on the same page about marriage when you haven't told her what you want? She probably thinks you don't want to get married right now either."

Taking a sip of his new glass of scotch, he then replied, "I'm not sure I should be taking the advice of a man in his forties who has never been in a relationship that's lasted more than a couple of months."

"It's taken you almost nine years to get the woman you love to be with you and you did it by knocking her up, you're not doing much better than I am," Rodney remarked dryly.

Maxwell looked to him in concern, "Do you think the only reason Fran left her husband is because she's having my baby?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, but it certainly makes life easier if you're in a relationship with the father of your child."

"So if the baby was David's, do you think she would've stayed with him?"

"I think you should be asking Fran these questions, not me."

"Well you've put it in my head now, thanks a lot," Maxwell grumbled, drinking the remainder of his drink in one gulp. "Now I'm always going to wonder if Fran really wanted to be with me, or if she felt like she had to because of the baby."

Rodney sighed, before gesturing to the bartender to refill their drinks once more, "I think we need another round."

"Desperately," he agreed, as the bartender poured him yet another drink. "And make it a double."

When the bartender had walked away, Rodney raised his glass, "I'd like to propose a toast. To you Maxwell, one of my oldest and dearest friends, congratulations on finally getting your girl."

"Yeah by getting her pregnant," Maxwell rolled his eyes, as he reluctantly raised his glass, "While she was married to someone else."

"Well, nobody's perfect."

"Rodney..."

"Don't listen to me mate, what do I know about you and Fran?" he asked. "Honestly, it sounds like that woman was in love with you for years. This pregnancy was just a convenient excuse to leave her husband for you."

"So you're saying if she wasn't pregnant, she never would've left him?"

"Well it's common knowledge that men never leave their wives for their mistresses," Rodney smirked. "I think it works the other way around too."

Maxwell frowned, "You're not making me feel any better."

"You know what? Why don't we stop talking about our feelings and act like proper Englishmen and just drink?" he proposed.

"Good idea," he agreed, as they clinked their glasses together.

Hours later, Maxwell returned home after having way too much to drink. This happened whenever Rodney Pembroke was in town. They would go out for a 'quiet meal' to catch up and reminisce about their college days, but somehow his friend would convince him to drink with him until the early hours of the morning.

He shut the front door behind him, opening the closet door and clumsily throwing his coat inside. He then began to make his way up the staircase, much slower than normal in his drunken state. He somehow found the door to his bedroom, opening it and letting himself in. Shutting the door behind him, he looked to the bed where Fran lay.

At the sound of the door closing, she sat up and whispered, "Max? Where have you been? It's almost 3am. I was about to send out a search party for you."

"I'm really not in the mood to talk right now," he replied, removing his suit jacket and tossing it onto the armchair near their bed. He then began to try to remove his tie, but couldn't seem to do it in the state he was in.

Fran got up out of bed and went to help him, asking, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

"A little bit," Maxwell confirmed with a nod. She frowned, purposely tightening his tie a little. "Hey!" he protested.

"Oops, sorry," she remarked sarcastically, before loosening his tie once more and roughly pulling it over his head. She tossed the tie onto the armchair with his jacket and got back into bed.

He quickly kicked off his shoes, then proceeded to unbutton his shirt. As he did so, he sat down on the bed beside her and asked, "Are you mad at me?"

Fran turned over and glared at him, "That's the understatement of the century." She sat up and poked him in the chest angrily, "You were supposed to be going out for a quick dinner with a friend, then you come home hours later completely schnockered without even calling to tell me you're gonna be home late. You could've been dead in a ditch for all I knew!"

He sighed, "I'm fine, Fran."

She rolled her eyes, "Well I know that now." She frowned, "What's gotten into you today?" He remained silent as he tried and failed to undo a button on his shirt. She sighed, climbing into his lap so that she was facing him. She moved his hands to his sides and took over unbuttoning his shirt for him.

Max gave her a suggestive look, bringing his hands up to rest on her hips, "I thought you were mad at me?"

He leant in to kiss her, but she stopped him, "Oh mister, you are so off the mark right now it's not even funny." After a beat she added, "I doubt you'd even be able to do it in your current state."

"Is that a challenge?" he grinned, pulling her closer to him.

"No, it is not," Fran replied, a reluctant smile creeping onto her lips. She finished with the last button of his shirt and began to take it off, one arm at a time.

He watched her take off his shirt, before bringing his hand up to rest on her cheek. "I really love you, you know," he told her softly.

She softened a little at his words and responded, "I know sweetie, I love you too."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," she remarked with a sigh, getting a little tired of being kept up by a drunken Maxwell.

"If you hadn't gotten pregnant, would you still be with David right now?"

Fran's mouth dropped open, "What?"

"Would you still be with me today if you weren't having my baby?" Max asked once more.

"Of course I would," she insisted. "I chose you, Max."

"But was that choice influenced by the paternity of this baby?"

Fran paused for a moment, before telling him, "Honey I chose you the moment I decided to sleep with you, even though I was married to somebody else. If I wanted David, this thing between us never would have happened in the first place."

"I hadn't thought about it like that before," Maxwell commented. "But if the baby was David's-"

"I would still be here with you," she interjected impatiently. "Because I love you. Even if you're a shmuck who comes home at 3am drunk off his ass and wakes up his pregnant girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" he repeated with a frown. "I really don't like the sound of that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'd much rather call you my fiancee," he admitted. "Or ideally my wife, but one step at a time."

After a moment of silence, she asked, "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do," Max replied. He looked her in the eyes and said, "Marry me, Fran."

Her eyes widened in alarm, "No, no, no. This is not gonna happen this way."

"What?"

"Tell me you're not asking me to marry you on a whim while drunk?"

Maxwell shook his head, "It's not on a whim. I even have a ring!"

"You do?"

"It's in my safe," he told her, yawning as the alcohol finally began to catch up with him. "I'm keeping it there until you're ready to marry me."

"What? Honey, what are you talking about?" Fran asked, climbing off his lap as he proceeded to lie down. She knew he was likely about to pass out and she wouldn't get a response out of him.

"Goodnight," he murmured, pulling a blanket over himself.

She sat there for a moment, watching as he began to snore softly. She knew she had to do some snooping. She had to know if Maxwell really had an engagement ring for her in his safe. She got out of bed, put on her robe, then made her way downstairs as quietly as she could. She let herself into the study and hurried over to the painting above Max's desk, taking it down off the wall to reveal the safe behind it. She entered the combination- a number she had known off by heart since her early days of being the kids' nanny.

Opening the safe, Fran gasped when she saw a black velvet box sitting on top of the assorted items inside. She picked it up, opening it to reveal the beautiful diamond ring inside. She smiled, happy that Maxwell had been telling the truth about wanting to marry her. She was worried it had just been something he said in a drunken ramble. She shut the box and slipped the ring into the pocket of her robe, before heading back upstairs.

A recent rewatch of the series has given me the inspiration to continue with this story. Sorry for the long wait for this chapter!