Mr & Mrs Darcy

By S. Faith, © 2013

Words: 30,042

Rating: M / R

Summary, Disclaimer, Notes: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 5.

The following week

With little fuss, Mark and Mary began divorce proceedings; what had begun quietly in a registrar's office would end quietly in a barrister's. They agreed they would keep everything relatively low-key, even though there was no reason to keep it especially secret.

There was still one conversation he wanted to have, and that was with Daniel. He thought about ringing Daniel up, but didn't exactly know what to say… and he felt he owed Jennifer an apology, as well, for intimating she was a potential home-wrecker.

As Mark ducked out for a lunch pondering the situation a few days later, he spied Daniel having lunch at the very same bistro at which he'd been before, at the very same table, and with him again was Jennifer. Mark took it to be a sign, and he diverted to the bistro.

Daniel looked up and scowled. "Serious déjà vu here," he said.

"No, it's all right," Mark said. "I'm just here to apologise for what must have seemed a mad outburst… especially to you, Jennifer. Bridget explained everything to me."

Daniel grinned. "Ah." He looked to Jennifer, who smiled and nodded. "Well, we've only just arrived. Why don't you join us?"

So Mark did join them, learning that unlike many of Daniel's other girlfriends, Jennifer was a teacher, handling children older than Brian and Ben. He also found he liked her very much. She was as sharp as a tack and obviously bright—if the playful verbal parrying was any indication—and by no means a shrinking flower. In fact, she was not afraid to scold Daniel for wanting a second glass of wine with lunch. She would not back down, and he relented, teasing, "You sound like Mark."

Mark could see why Bridget would like her—and he too hoped Jennifer would stick around.

Early December

"Mark. That was an… interesting programme."

The first Wednesday in December brought the broadcast of the episode of 'Novel Sensations' on which he was the guest. He had been reluctant to discuss his renewed relationship with Bridget until divorce proceedings were well underway, especially his parents, but given the commentary and feedback he had gotten so far from all who had seen the episode, it seemed that the cat was out of the bag: there was no hiding the comfort, the familiarity, the chemistry. Everyone asked if they had—with a wink—worked many long nights together.

From the tone of his mother's voice, she sensed the same.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said rather neutrally, then decided to forge on: "The subject matter is one very close to my heart—"

"I'd be very pleased to hear you were back with Bridget," she interrupted sternly, "except for the fact you're married with a child." His mother had always liked Mary well enough—far more than she'd liked Mark's first wife—but had always liked Bridget best for her son.

He could feel her penetratingly inquisitive gaze over their telephone connection. "I hadn't wanted to say anything until we had more of the details finalised, but I guess there's no reason to hold back now—though the boys haven't been told yet."

"Details on…?" she prompted.

"Mary and I have decided to split. Things won't be final until the spring but… we have begun divorce proceedings." Before she could say anything more about it, he added, "It was Mary's idea… but I had been wanting it myself. I couldn't deny I still loved Bridget."

"If this is the case, then… I can be pleased unreservedly."

He smiled, feeling relieved; he hadn't realised how much he'd wanted her approval until he had it. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Give her my love, won't you?" Elaine said, surprising him.

"I surely will," he said, sooner rather than later; he had plans to meet her for dinner that evening; Mary was looking after Ben and Daniel had Brian, so the night was open ended.

He said his goodbyes then slipped down to the kitchen, to where Mary was making dinner, to say goodbye to her and to Ben for the night; he gave his son a hug and a kiss and told him he'd might be late so they'd just see each other in the morning.

"Where are you going, Dad?" Ben asked. "Mum and me saw you on the telly today with Bridget. Are you gonna see her and Brian?"

He glanced to Mary, who shook her head and shrugged a little, suggesting she had no idea where this question was coming from. "'Mum and I'," he corrected, "and yes, I will be seeing—" It still felt weird to call her by her name to his child. "—Bridget for dinner."

"Are you having a party from being on the telly?"

"Sort of, yes."

Ben drew his brows together. "By yourselves?"

"Yes."

"Oh," he said. "Huh."

"What is it?" Mark pressed.

Ben looked very earnest. "Will we have our own party soon, you and Mum and me?"

"Sure." He ran his hand over Ben's hair, then looked to Mary. Without words they agreed: they had to tell Ben what was happening—he could tell Bridget to tell her son. He gestured towards the sofa in the attached sitting room. "Let's have a little talk, okay?"

Ben nodded, followed his mother and father, and then sat facing the both of them. Mark spoke first.

"Ben, you know that I love you."

Ben smiled, though still seemed a little unsure what was going on. "Love you too, Dad."

"And you know I love you too." This from Mary as she patted his knee.

"Uh-huh."

He knew Mary disapproved of him saying 'uh-huh' but she let it slide anyway. "And nothing that ever happens will change that, right? Even if we're not always all together?"

"I know." Ben looked from his mum to his dad, quirking up the corner of his mouth thoughtfully. "Are you going to be a divorce?"

They exchanged another glance. "What would make you ask that?" Mark asked.

"Tim in school said his mum and dad aren't going to live together anymore 'cause she's a divorce." His big brown eyes blinked slowly. "Do I have to live with someone else?"

"Absolutely not," said Mark, taking his hand. "You will either be living with Mum, here or in a new place… or with me." He paused. "And with Bridget and Brian."

His eyes got wide. "With Brian?"

Mark smiled. Of course he would focus on that.

Mary asked, "Would you like to have Brian as your stepbrother?"

He nodded earnestly… but he stopped, then his smile faded. "But I'll still have you as my mum?"

Mary uttered a little laugh that indicated she was a bit choked up. "Benedict, I will always be your mum, and you will always by my son."

"Oh, good."

"You'll be surrounded by people who love you wherever you are," Mary said. Mark nodded.

"Oh," he said. He looked pensive again. "So why are you going to live with Bridget and Brian?"

He pursed his lips, looked to Mary, then said, "Your mum and I still love you, and we still care about each other, but…" He faltered, not knowing quite how to phrase it in a way that Ben would understand but delicate enough to not inadvertently hurt Mary in any way, even though they'd never had the same sort of relationship—

"Your dad wants to marry Bridget."

Mary's contribution took him by surprise.

"Oh!" said Ben. "Well, that's cool, then."

Mark laughed unexpectedly, relieved at Ben's stamp of approval. "I'm glad you think so," said Mark. He leaned forward and kissed him on the top of the head. "I have to go, Ben, but I'll see you in the morning, all right?"

"Okay," said Ben.

When he got into the car for the short ride over the pick up Bridget for dinner, he dialled her with the hands-free from the car to let her know he was on the way. "Okay," she said, sounding amused. "I'll just need to take Brian over to Daniel." Then she chuckled. "Adorable, by the way."

"What is?"

"Your son just rang up mine."

Mark's brows rose; Ben was not prone to making telephone calls, and wondered if he might be a bit excited about the night's news. "Ah," Mark said. "I was going to tell you that we told Ben this evening about the divorce so that you could tell Brian, but I bet Ben's beaten you to the punch. He's… looking forward to having a stepbrother."

"Oh," she said, which wasn't much, but the way she said it made him wonder if it hadn't upset her.

"I hope that's okay," he said. "I never thought Ben would want to ring up Brian, or else I would have told Mary—"

"It's all right, Mark," she said.

"I'm almost there," he said. "We'll talk more."

"Okay. Bye."

He disconnected, indicated, and turned down her street, fortuitously finding a spot on the kerb. When he arrived to Bridget's, Brian was still on the telephone, grinning from ear to ear. "Guess what, Ben? Your dad's here." Pause. "Ben says 'hi', Mr Darcy."

"Hi, Ben," he called.

"Brian, time to go to your dad's," Bridget said. "Time to say bye to Ben."

He did so, then placed the phone back on its cradle. He was still grinning.

"So are you ready to head over?"

"Uh-huh," said Brian.

"Well, then. Let's get."

They walked back towards the door connecting the sitting room to Daniel's; as Bridget knocked then opened the door, as Daniel and Jennifer waved hello, Brian asked, "So, Mr Darcy, when are you coming to live here and marry Mum?"

Mark stopped dead in his tracks; Daniel, Jennifer, and especially Bridget all stared at him. He was at a loss for words, and felt his skin flare with the heat of his embarrassment. Then Bridget began to chuckle, asking Brian, "Is that what Ben said was happening?"

"Uh-huh," said Brian. Daniel and Jennifer were also attempting to stifle laughter.

"That is not what I told Ben," Mark said.

Bridget smiled. "Well. We did talk about drawing up contracts."

Mark felt a slight panic; Bridget had never asked outright about moving in—he had just assumed it would be the most logical place—and he felt suddenly guilty that he hadn't talked to Daniel about the situation either. "You'd be all right with that, wouldn't you?" he asked Daniel. "If I came and lived here?"

Daniel's features went unreadable. "Can we speak in private for a moment?"

"Certainly."

Together they went into the kitchen, which didn't have a door per se, but was far enough away to provide some privacy. Daniel folded his arms over his chest. "So you want to live here, with Bridget. In our house."

"I do. Yes."

"Presumably with your son, at least part of the time."

It was another aspect he had failed to fully consider, though he wasn't sure why Daniel seemed so offended by the concept. "Well, Mary and I will share custody, but yes."

Daniel said nothing, at least until the façade of sternness began to crack and Daniel began to laugh aloud. "I suppose the room currently storing everything she hasn't yet unpacked can be cleared out for Ben… as for your office, well, I suppose you and Bridget will have to make do with sharing."

Mark's relief was immense. "So this is okay?"

"More than okay," he said. "Plus, another built-in child-minder." The smile faded, and he looked serious again. "Look, I'm fully aware that but for my presence you and Bridge would have gotten back together a lot sooner, anyway. She told me about your willingness to adopt Brian, and while I never would've signed him away, it says a lot about you that you would have. So I'm sorry for that. For being the roadblock. And for that other thing with your wife—the first one, I mean." He grinned then held out his hand.

It felt good to leave the past in the past at long last, and with a smile of his own, Mark accepted the handshake.

Daniel then joked, "Third time's a charm, perhaps?"

"It had better be," he said, "because it'll be the last time."

They returned to where Bridget and Jennifer waited with Brian; the boy was oblivious to their nervous anticipation, which resolved into smiles when they looked into the men's faces. "All settled, then?" asked Bridget.

Daniel nodded. "I've deigned to allow him to live here, if that's what you really want." This he said with a wink.

"How very noble of you," Bridget said drolly, then held out her hand towards Mark. "After all of that suspense, I'm hungry. Let's go and eat."

She gave Brian a kiss goodbye, and with that the two of them exited through the pass-through door, then through the front door of Bridget's place. As they walked down to his car hand in hand, Bridget was beaming a smile. "Penny for your thoughts," he asked, even though he had a good idea what was on her mind.

He would be proven wrong.

"I was just thinking about how our potential future arrangement is shaping up," she said. "You, me, Ben, Brian, Daniel, and—God willing and no stupid moves on Daniel's part—Jennifer. When you think about it, it's all very… commune-esque."

His brows lifted.

"Very lefty-liberal, isn't it?" she added, turning to face him as they reached the car. "Maybe Mary can just take up in the spare bedroom at Daniel's and the circle would be complete."

At this he had to chuckle. "I suppose at least you're not consigning her to be the mad ex-wife in the attic."

"Come on," she said, threading her arms around his neck. "I actually like Mary." She then kissed him, drawing back to add with a wink, "Besides. We don't even have an attic, anyway."

Mid-December

The school term ended in the third week of December, which made for a very small window of opportunity for Mark to move house before Christmas. With professional help in the packing and the moving, though, they were able to make it work. Having Lynn around to help watch over the boys made it much easier to complete, particularly as Bridget was feeling under the weather and couldn't tend to them as well as she ordinarily would have.

Not that the boys were difficult to watch over. For five-year-olds, they were pretty well behaved; Mark could see a dynamic between them that very much mirrored his friendship with Daniel, even his relationship with Bridget: one outspoken and daring, the other more thoughtful and reserved. It was this balance, in its own way, that teased out a playfulness in Ben and helped to keep Brian's mischievousness in check.

When Mark would watch the boys play, he would think back to the trials and tribulations of trying to have a baby with Bridget. How frustrating it had been, and the harder they'd tried, the more frustrating it had become. They now had an embarrassment of riches in the way of children; it only took a few days of living with Bridget for Mark to start thinking of Brian as his son, too.

As the holidays got ever nearer and Bridget felt no better, she joked over her unbuttered toast and weak tea for breakfast, "Everything's going so well, surely I've contracted something fatal."

"That isn't funny," Mark said sternly. "I'm getting you in to see a doctor before Christmas makes it impossible to do so."

She sighed and acquiesced. "You do know I'm kidding, right?"

He didn't smile—he was too uneasy to smile, because obstacles always seemed to pop up to thwart their happiness—but he reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I know. Better safe than sorry."

He was able to get her into a private physician within the day, an old friend that had helped Jude out in a pinch once upon a time; he felt it was too urgent a matter to wait for an appointment with her usual GP. Too worried, and to Bridget's irritation, he went into the surgery with her; the doctor asked all manner of questions about the symptoms she had been experienced, which she answered (and which he corrected when she would fib).

"And the last time you…" Dr Stark cleared his throat, glancing for a moment towards Mark. "…had your period?"

Mark felt his skin flush with his embarrassment.

"Hmm," she said. "Maybe back in October? It's gone pretty irregular the last few years. Few months on, few months off."

Dr Stark made notations in his computer. "Okay," he said. "Let's just take a little blood to test. We'll have results tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Mark said, scowling. "We have to spend the evening waiting on tenterhooks?"

"Sorry, that's the best turnaround I've got. I know you're worried, my friend, but I really don't think it's anything to worry about."

Mark jumped on these words. "So you do have an idea what might be going on?"

He nodded. He told them. And, a day later, Dr Stark was proven correct.

"I don't understand how this could have happened," Bridget said, setting down the phone, shock draining her face of all colour.

"I could show you, if you've forgotten since last night," Mark said with a smile. He tried hard not to laugh, because it was only humorous in light of his previous thoughts. When they were trying so desperately hard, it was elusive, and when they weren't trying at all…

"Mark," she said, still staring at the inert telephone. "It's not funny."

"I know, I know," he said, taking her hand. He went immediately sombre. "You aren't unhappy, I hope."

She looked up to him at last, and that's when the smile spread across her face. "Of course I'm happy," she said, placing her other hand tenderly against his cheek. "Just totally not expecting to be pregnant at my age."

"At your age. As if you were Methuselah. Pfft." He took her into his arms, nuzzled into the hair near her ear and whispered, "The boys will be thrilled when they come back from Mary's."

"As thrilled as you are?" she asked, slipping her arms around his waist, raking her nails down the cotton of his shirt.

"No one could be as thrilled as I am," he murmured, his hands rounding her bottom, squeezing gently. "Particularly as I am perfectly free to show you how thrilled I am."

"Mmm," she purred, then kissed his cheek. "I think I like this multiple parent arrangement," she added, then began to kiss him in earnest.

The end.