“I went to the doctor,” I whispered, “and I started the medication, but it just makes me sleepy and fuzzy.”
He pushed the bridge of his horn rimmed glasses higher up on his nose, nodding thoughtfully. “When did you start taking it?”
“A few days ago,” I said.
“It takes a fortnight at least,” he said soothingly. “You just have to give them time to work.”
“Are they going to make me feel this terrible forever?” I asked.
“I didn’t have side effects, but I read the pamphlet the pharmacist gave me,” he said with a grin. “I think you’ll be okay. If you’re not feeling better by the time two weeks is passed, maybe you should talk to your doctor about something else.”
I had the oddest sensation that I’d found myself in some type of advertisement: Talk to your doctor about this medication or that medication or anything that might take your hot mess and turn it into the polished, poised woman you’d once been. I forced a smile.
“Don’t do that with me,” he said firmly. “I know when you’re over-thinking.”
“Would you rather I just cried?” I asked as we stepped out of the bookshop, and Edward carefully deposited Penny in her pram, wrapping several layers of blanket around her. She stirred, momentarily opening sleepy eyes to find him smiling back at her. It was enough to reassure her, and she fell back asleep.
“I’d rather you be happy,” he admitted. “I think that’s what Smith wants, too. The first step is going to have to be admitted that you aren’t. You can’t fake it until you make it when you’re depressed.”
He put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
“I want to be happy,” I said softly.
“That’s the first step, love.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my head.
“What’s the next one?”
“Take it one day at a time,” he advised, “and when it’s all too much, chocolate never fails.”
“I know just the place to take you,” I said.
We continue down the main street, shifting to lighthearted banter about the items for sale in shop windows. The truth was that having him here had done more good for my soul than I thought possible. But I couldn’t hang all the responsibility of feeling better on him. Not when he had his own life to get back to.
“What about Smith?” Edward asked.
“I didn’t get him anything this year, except a baby,” I said absently.
“No, not that. How is Smith feeling about things? He seemed worried when he called me.” Apparently, Edward wasn’t going to avoid difficult conversations. He’d really meant that he wanted to help me. I suspected, he felt he learned his lesson the hard way in regards to things like that.
“He’s fine. He adores the baby. She adores him.”
“And?” Edward pressed.
I shrugged. “What else matters?”
“You two usually can’t keep your hands off each other,” he said meaning "Last night you barely looked at each other.”
“What did you say? Some things have changed?” My words were hollow, but coated with the bitterness I felt towards the situation.
“Now I’m really worried,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s just that everything’s different,” I confessed. “I’m not very good at this whole mum thing. I’m sure you heard.”
“I only heard that you are stressed. No one—including Smith—said a thing about your skills as a mother. Besides, it’s not like it’s not a huge transition. Would you start any new job and expect to be good at it on the first day?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be like when you become a mom.” At least that’s how it felt to me. “Look at Clara.
“Clara has nothing else to do,” Edward muttered. “My brother sees to that.”
“She’s a good mom,” I said, shifting the conversation away from Alexander and back to my original point. I’d unintentionally hit his sore spot. But if he was going to force me to confront the ugly things I tried to hide inside myself, then I needed to do the same for him.
He hesitated. “She is.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him. We’d skirted around the topic the last time I saw him in London. Then, he’d been simmering on a low boil, any moment I’d expected him to explode. It was there under the surface all the time. I no longer sensed that. That didn’t mean that every time the conversation touched on his brother or his late husband, I didn’t spy some of that undercurrent of anger, though.
“I’m trying to make peace with the fact that I’ll never know why,” he said in a gruff voice. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”
“You started to tell me something,” I said thoughtfully as we paused so I could adjust Penny’s blanket and double check to be sure that the pram’s canopy blocked any possible wind. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, but all indications were that she was warm enough. “You said that the worst part was that sometimes and then Smith showed up before you could tell me.”
"I’ll confess if you will,” he said.
“What do I have to confess?” I asked.
“I won’t pretend that I’m healed or that I’m over it. I am happy sometimes now. Other days, I don’t want to get out of bed,” he admitted to me. “The most important thing I did was I stopped keeping all of the terrible thoughts I had locked away.” He paused, giving me a pointed look as we reached the Briar Rose Inn.
“Do you want me to tell you all my crazy thoughts?”
“It’s a good sign that you see them as crazy. That means that you don’t believe them,” he murmured. “But yes. I promise I won’t judge you.”
I glanced at Penny sleeping peacefully in her pram and wondered if that were true or if it was a pretty lie we told each other? That you loved them unconditionally. That you would never think less of them. But how true could that actually be? How often was that kind of promise tested? The truth was that most of the time people didn’t test those boundaries. They pleased their parents. They apologized. They made up with their spouse instead of holding on to anger. As much as I wanted to believe that humans were capable of that kind of unconditional acceptance, I knew we were also capable of holding grudges.
“Like you don’t judge Alexander?”
Edward’s eyes flashed, but before he could spit out whatever had boiled over inside him, Tomas opened the door to the restaurant.
“Are you going to stand out there with that baby or come inside?” he asked, waving us in the restaurant.
The momentary distraction gave both of us a moment to cool off as we got Penny out and carried her inside, parking the pram at the door.
“Hello,” Tomas said, sticking out his hand to Edward. “I’m Tomas. Belle’s favorite person in Briarshead.”
“You’re the only person I know in Briarshead,” I reminded him.
“As I said, at the top, no?”
“Edward.” He took Tomas’s outstretched hand and shook it, but I spotted the bit of hesitation on his face. Edward waited for the moment of recognition, but Tomas continued on obliviously.