A vintage touch: His hand on her neck

A vintage touch: His hand on her neck

// I love me some Colby. 

xxxx

Mary was walking in circles in Tommy's office. She was restless and couldn't stop walking in order to find some sort of peace. Moments earlier, Charlie called her "mommy". It came out so naturally from the young boy's mouth that he didn't think twice about it. She didn't have the heart to correct him, nor did Tommy who witnessed the scene at his desk.  As soon as he noticed the young woman's distress, he swiftly took his son's hand and led him outside his office to Frances. He felt a pang in his heart, knowing full well that Mary had lost a son at such a young age. They had not talked about it, nor had they talked about her relationship with Charlie. What was there to say aside from stating the obvious? the kid loved Mary, he listened to her, and he definitely spoke about her to his father.  Charlie knew she wasn't his mother, but he grew to think of her as such. Should Tommy intervene and correct the boy? Did Mary want Charlie to be corrected? He had to know. They had to talk about it. The least Tommy wanted was to upset Mary and his son.  When he returned to his office, he saw Mary who kept walking in a circle.  

"Tommy? I thought you were going to stay with Charlie a little longer." -She gasped and put her hand over her chest.- 

"He is in good hands. I couldn't just leave you alone." -He said in a stern but calm voice. He walked towards the young woman and tried to hold her hand but she rejected him at first.- "Mary!" -He called out her name but she pushed him away again, struggling against his touch- "Mary, you're okay. It's just me! you're okay." -He repeated, soothing her with his voice, the hold on her arm still strong. She looked at his face, her green orbs shifted from left to right as she wasn't sure what to make of his intentions. She stopped struggling when he grabbed her other arm and forced her to look at his face- "Mary. You're okay. I am here. Talk to me."

"I....." - She was still baffled by the whole situation but quickly enough, the fact he was so close to her face, his warm breath over her, the gentle touch of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of her arm relaxed the young woman who looked up to Tommy's face.- "He called me Mommy, Tom. you heard it as clearly as I did."

"I did." -Her green orbs shifted from left to right, looking for any sign of rejection from the Gypsie King.-

Tommy Shelby was a man hard to read for the untrained eye, and even those who practiced the man, decoding was not an easy task.  He meant his word in a nice way. She didn't see anything but concern for her in the eyes of the man and that brought her some relief. Tommy wasn't upset that his son called her "Mommy". He hadn't thought about it, to be honest, he had not imagined that his child's tongue could slip up the way it did, but it was bound to happen, wasn't it?  Mary was taking care of him and the two of them had built a very strong relationship over the years spent together. It made sense that she was a mother figure at the very least, that showed that their bond was strong and true. That showed some sort of truth regarding the love she had for his son. It was genuine, enough for the child to consider her a suitable mother for him. 

Tommy gently cupped her cheek with his large and calloused hand. Mary leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. She sought his touch, his comfort. She sought a way to ease her mind. It caused a whiplash, a sudden reminder that she had lost her son and couldn't bring him back. Her hand still touched her belly, rubbing it nervously as if she were pregnant with her son again. Paul was gone, the poor thing only lived for 30 minutes in this world, bringing both joy and immense pain to his mother. She never thought she'd hear a child call her mother. She never thought she'd crave that emotion. She'd never thought she'd want to be called Mom, to be a mother, to have her own child.  Where did she stand in Tommy's life? Part of her feared she was nothing but a replacement for Grace. She was there to raise his child and bring him comfort while he mourned for his late wife.  She feared that her feelings were unrequited, which was one of the reasons that kept her from claiming her love for him. 

She couldn't read Tommy's mind, not even when it came to her. Now, his child had decided she was his mother, which confused the young woman even more. Could Tommy possibly want it too? Was he alright with his son calling another woman "mom"? Was he alright with Mary taking that much space in his life? She had no clue. Nothing. She didn't have the key to the safe that was Tommy -which Lizzie gleefully reminded her of-. She only could trust her instincts and trust that Tommy wouldn't lie to her about how he felt. If he didn't want her around him, she would have been gone already. If he didn't want her around him, he would have let her go. He would have let her seek a suitor. he would not have claimed her. but he did all of these things. He did all of it. 

"I guess, his tongue slipped up. He didn't mean those words. I am not his mother. He already has one."

"Charlie loves you. That's all that means. He loves you and I know you love him." -He cupped both cheeks, rubbing the right one with his thumb.- "But you are panicking. What's on your mind?"

"Why are you asking me? Why are you asking, me?" -She repeated, desperately trying not to say the words. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she was shaking.- " Tom.. let me go!"

"Not this time. Polly told me how you reacted when the Grace institute welcomed a newborn boy. Now, my son had called you mommy and you're spiraling. you're restless... you're upset. I have to know why."

"Don't you already know?" -She sounded defeated. "You are the king of Birmingham. you know things very few people are aware of. You should know my secret. You should know my pain." -She said, still fighting tears.

"I need you to say it, Mary. You need to let it out. You need to let me know. What happened to you? What happened to you?" -He asked.- 

His voice was just a soft whisper. She didn't want to answer him. She didn't want to let him see the deep scar she suffered from. It was the one thing she never could tell Tommy. yet, he decided not to let her run away this time from him. She would talk to him because he had to be sure that being around Charlie wasn't harming her. His heart started to race against his ribcage as he set his blue eyes upon her lovely face. Her voice shook and she moistened her lips.

"I was a child. Tom. I was but 14 when that bastard got me pregnant. I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't understand what it truly meant for me, but I grew to love it. The baby inside of me. I grew to love him...my boy..." -Her voice broke down and she ended up crying the tears she had been holding back- "My boy... My boy... he lived for only 30 minutes, Tom. I was blessed enough to be able to hold him until he took his last breath...But I never got to become a mom. I never got to have a family of mine. I just... I didn't even have enough money to bury him properly. Can you believe it? I couldn't... I couldn't... oh..." -She lamented-

Tom held her face firmly, so she could look at him. He wanted her to focus on him. He wanted her to listen to his voice, to his instructions. Tom did what he knew best. He commanded her. He commanded her to listen to him and to look at him. He watched her face contorted with pain, the tears rolling down her cheeks as she was remembering her son. He saw the distress on her face, the same he felt when Grace died. She was in pain, almost losing strength in her legs. She put both hands on his arms and she nodded slowly, allowing him to know that his words were reaching out to her. Mary still sobbed, her chest heaving up and down as she was trying to catch her breath. He placed his hands tightly on her neck and nodded as if he was trying to convince himself (and her) about his next words. 

"look at me, Mary! Look me in the eye!" -She set her green eyes upon him and nodded to let him know that she was listening- 

Her body was still shaking as she was still crying. Tommy hated to see her cry, not because it bothered him, per se, but because he didn't like when she was in pain. He wanted to take that pain away, take it from him so she could smile at him again. His rough fingers slid into her curly hair and stroked the back of her neck. She looked at him and chewed at her bottom lip.  he could see how scared Mary was and the sobs she couldn't hold back. She nodded and squeezed his arms harder. 

"Mary...You know Charlie. You know the boy. He loves you and calling you mommy is the way he shows you that love. I am not mad at him. I am not mad at you. You care for Charlie. You love him and he loves you and that's all that matters to me. He is a happy and healthy boy and he makes you happy. It's all that matters." -He leaned his forehead against hers- "I don't mind the boy calling you as he pleases but I see how distressed you are. Do you want him to stop calling you that?"

"No... no... I don't want my precious boy to be frustrated. He can call me Mommy...I just... I was scared you would be upset that he did. I was scared that you thought I wanted to replace Grace. I was scared you wanted me to replace Grace. I cannot be her. I don't want to be her."

"You're not Grace. You are Mary and you are far more than enough for us. You make Charlie and me happy. It's all that matters, Mary. It's all that matters."- He rubbed her cheeks and wiped the tears off of her face with his thumbs. She nodded and pinched her lips together.- Paul..." -She flinched- "Paul might not be here, but he was lucky to have been born to you, Mary. He got to be held by you. He got to be loved. You've got to remember that, Mary. You've got to honor him and look forward to the future and not dwell on the past."

"it hurts so much, Tommy. I...It just hurts but you're right. I cannot be crying for the loss of my son until my last breath. I will honor him, the best way I can and..." -She sobbed and wiped some tears off of her face- "And if Charlie wants to call me Mommy, then he certainly can. He's my boy too, after all. He's my boy too..." 

She repeated and leaned into his firm touch. She closed her eyes and felt his lips press to hers in a soft kiss. How she had wanted to claim her love for him, to say those words that were threatening to escape her lips. Her heart was beating so fast against her ribcage, the tears were freely rolling down her cheeks, making a mess of her make-up and getting her dress wet from her tears. Her lips trembled, as she wanted to tell him she was deeply in love with him and wanted a life with him. She wanted to tell him that he meant everything to her and she loved his son like her own. God! Please, give her the strength to admit it to him. how she had wanted to give him her heart, but she knew better than to make bold claims when her emotions were all over the place. It wasn't the time. It wasn't the place. None of them would be ready to say it (for her) and to hear it (for him), but they knew. They knew at this instant, at this place, that they felt strongly for the other. They knew they felt more than just comfort, more than just some simple appreciation. They loved each other, they hurt together, they comforted each other, and that afternoon, they were stronger together. He was there for her as she was for him. He was there, and always will be. 

-TBC-