Work Text:
The champagne remained unopened.
This was becoming increasingly difficult for Yoko.
She stared at the bottle in the middle of Bianca and Ajax’s coffee table.
Then at her phone.
Then at the bottle.
Then back at her phone.
Divina noticed.
“No.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re thinking about it.”
“I’m thinking about many things.”
“You’re thinking about opening the champagne.”
Yoko looked offended.
“I have standards.”
Ajax snorted from the other end of the sofa.
“No, you don’t.”
Yoko slowly turned.
“I know where you live.”
Ajax gestured around them.
“You’re literally in my house.”
“Exactly. Saves time.”
Bianca emerged from the kitchen carrying another tray of coffee.
“No one is opening anything until we get an update.”
“I know,” Yoko said.
Bianca put the tray down.
“And stop staring at it.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve checked the bottle more often than your phone.”
“That is slander.”
Agnes, curled into the armchair beside Eugene, looked up from her own phone.
“Six times in three minutes.”
Yoko stared at her.
Agnes smiled.
“I counted.”
Eugene kissed her temple.
“That’s my girl.”
Yoko pointed at both of them.
“You’ve become deeply irritating as a couple.”
“We learned from you,” Eugene said.
Divina smiled sweetly.
Yoko considered this.
“Fair.”
Then every trace of humour vanished as all six phones remained stubbornly silent.
Bianca sat.
Nobody mentioned it.
Wednesday had gone into labour at thirty-six weeks and three days.
Unexpectedly.
Her waters had broken at home.
Contractions had apparently accelerated with concerning enthusiasm.
Morticia had gone with her.
Pugsley had been dispatched to retrieve Enid.
And everyone else had been told, in no uncertain terms, to wait.
So they were waiting.
Badly.
The television remained on.
That was partly why.
Because while their private group chat contained precisely three useful messages:
MORTICIA: She is being assessed.
Then:
MORTICIA: Both appear stable. Labour progressing quickly.
And finally:
MORTICIA: Enid has arrived.
The rest of the world had considerably less information.
And considerably more enthusiasm.
The television currently displayed footage they had all watched eleven times.
Pugsley Addams bursting onto the set of a live Integration Council broadcast.
Security chasing him.
Enid standing.
Pugsley shouting:
Wednesday’s in labour.
Then Enid abandoning several million viewers without so much as looking at the camera.
The presenter’s stunned face had already become a meme.
Yoko refreshed her phone.
“Oh my God.”
Bianca looked over.
“What now?”
Yoko began laughing.
She turned the screen around.
A headline filled it.
ENID SINCLAIR’S MYSTERY SPOUSE FINALLY IDENTIFIED AFTER LIVE-TV EMERGENCY
Ajax groaned.
“They’re quick.”
“Quick?” Yoko said. “They’re feral.”
Divina leaned over.
“Read it.”
Yoko cleared her throat theatrically.
Bianca pointed.
“Do not use the voice.”
“What voice?”
“The gossip-column voice.”
“I don’t have one.”
“You absolutely do.”
Yoko ignored her.
“‘Actress, model and Outcast advocate Enid Sinclair stunned viewers today when she abruptly left a live televised Integration Council discussion after a man identified as Pugsley Addams entered the studio and announced that Wednesday was in labour.’”
Eugene covered his mouth.
Agnes’s eyes widened.
Yoko continued.
“‘Sinclair, who has publicly worn a wedding ring for more than a decade while fiercely protecting her spouse’s identity, appeared visibly shocked before leaving the broadcast.’”
Ajax nodded.
“Accurate.”
“‘Online observers quickly identified Pugsley Addams as the younger brother of acclaimed novelist Wednesday Addams.’”
Everyone looked toward the television.
A photograph of Wednesday appeared.
Black suit.
Expression suggesting the photographer had approximately five seconds left to live.
Yoko grinned.
“There she is.”
Divina laughed.
Bianca shook her head.
“The irony is she is going to hate every second of this.”
“She’s in labour,” Ajax said. “She probably doesn’t know.”
Yoko’s grin widened.
“Imagine telling her afterwards.”
Eugene looked horrified.
“Why would you volunteer?”
“Because I value entertainment.”
“You value death.”
“They overlap.”
Agnes was scrolling now.
“Oh.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” Bianca asked.
Agnes silently turned her phone.
Another headline.
WEDNESDAY ADDAMS IS ENID SINCLAIR’S WIFE? INTERNET SLEUTHS CONNECT THE DOTS AFTER DRAMATIC LIVE BROADCAST
Ajax laughed.
“They put a question mark.”
“They’re being responsible journalists,” Eugene said.
Yoko made a noise.
“Give them six minutes.”
Agnes refreshed.
A new article appeared.
She showed him.
The question mark was gone.
Eugene nodded.
“Six minutes was generous.”
The public had always known Enid Sinclair was married.
She made no attempt to hide that part.
Her wedding ring appeared on red carpets.
Interviews.
Photoshoots.
Public appearances.
Film premieres.
Enid wore it with pride.
If anyone asked whether she was married, she said yes.
If anyone asked whether she was happy, she usually smiled and said:
“Very.”
If they asked who her spouse was, the answer changed.
Sometimes:
“My partner isn’t famous and likes it that way.”
Sometimes:
“They’re intensely private.”
Once, when a particularly persistent interviewer had attempted to push:
“My career makes me public. It doesn’t make the people I love public property.”
That clip had circulated for weeks.
Nobody pushed quite as hard afterwards.
Enid never lied.
She simply never supplied pronouns.
Never supplied a name.
Never posted anniversary photographs.
Never brought Wednesday onto a red carpet.
Never photographed their home in enough detail to identify it.
Wednesday occasionally accompanied her to industry events but entered privately, remained backstage or occupied whatever corner had the fewest photographers.
Enid respected it.
Completely.
Then, several years after the wedding ring first appeared, Enid had casually mentioned during an interview that she had a daughter.
The entertainment industry lost its collective mind.
The host had nearly dropped her cards.
“You have a daughter?”
Enid had smiled.
“I do.”
“How old?”
“Little.”
The host laughed.
“Can we know her name?”
“No.”
Enid had still been smiling.
Warmly.
But the boundary had been immediate.
“She’s beautiful, she’s funny, she’s terrifyingly clever, and she is also a child. She didn’t choose my career, so she won’t be subjected to celebrity life because of it.”
That was all the public ever got.
Occasionally Enid mentioned “my daughter.”
Once she told a story about finding glitter in the dishwasher.
Another time she described being forced to watch the same animated dragon movie twelve times in one weekend.
But no name.
No photograph.
No birthday.
No school.
Nothing that could identify her.
The public knew Enid Sinclair had a spouse.
The public knew Enid Sinclair had a daughter.
That was it.
Until Pugsley Addams sprinted onto national television and detonated twelve years of privacy with six words.
Wednesday’s in labour.
Bianca refreshed the news feed.
“Oh, this is getting worse.”
Yoko moved closer.
“Better.”
“Worse.”
“For us, better.”
“For Wednesday, catastrophic.”
“Therefore better.”
Bianca turned the phone.
Someone had created a timeline.
An actual timeline.
THE ENID SINCLAIR MARRIAGE MYSTERY: EVERYTHING WE MISSED
Divina burst out laughing.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Yoko took the phone.
“Oh, this is beautiful.”
She began reading.
“‘2015: Enid Sinclair first photographed wearing what appears to be a wedding ring.’”
Ajax frowned.
“That’s wrong.”
Bianca nodded.
“They married in 2014.”
Yoko looked at them.
“Do we tell the internet?”
Six voices answered simultaneously.
“No.”
“Fine.”
She continued.
“‘2017: Sinclair refers to her spouse as “the most stubborn person alive” during an interview.’”
Eugene laughed.
“That should have given it away.”
Agnes nodded solemnly.
“Statistically, yes.”
“‘2018: Asked what her spouse thinks about her latest film, Sinclair says: “They described it as tolerable, which is basically five stars.”’”
Divina pointed at the screen.
“That should definitely have given it away.”
Yoko continued.
“‘2019: Wednesday Addams thanks an unnamed person identified only as E.S. in the acknowledgements of The Anatomy of Ruin.’”
Bianca sat forward.
“People found that?”
“People have too much time.”
Eugene looked at Yoko.
She stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“I value my life.”
“Coward.”
Agnes took the phone from Yoko.
“There’s more.”
She read:
“‘2020: Sinclair tells Vogue her spouse considers Valentine’s Day a corporate hostage situation.’”
Ajax started laughing.
“That is absolutely Wednesday.”
Divina added:
“Didn’t Wednesday buy Enid an antique ruby necklace that year?”
Bianca nodded.
“And claimed it wasn’t a Valentine’s gift because she purchased it on February thirteenth.”
Yoko raised a finger.
“Important legal distinction.”
Agnes kept scrolling.
Her eyebrows rose.
“Someone found Wednesday in the background of a photograph from one of Enid’s premieres.”
Everyone crowded closer.
The photograph was grainy.
Enid stood in the foreground speaking to reporters.
Far behind her, barely visible through an open doorway, stood Wednesday Addams.
Black dress.
Arms folded.
Watching Enid.
Yoko stared.
“Oh, come on.”
Eugene smiled.
“What?”
“She’s looking at her.”
Divina’s expression softened.
Bianca leaned in.
Even in a terrible photograph taken from thirty feet away, it was unmistakable if you knew Wednesday.
That look.
The one reserved for one person.
Yoko shook her head.
“And nobody figured this out?”
Ajax looked at her.
“You know Wednesday.”
“Yes.”
“You know Enid.”
“Yes.”
“You knew they were married.”
“Yes.”
“You’re working backwards.”
Yoko considered.
“Stop being reasonable. It’s unattractive.”
Bianca looked at Ajax.
“I disagree.”
Ajax smiled.
Yoko made a gagging noise.
The speculation grew stranger.
Some people were delighted.
Some refused to believe it.
Some insisted Pugsley must have meant another Wednesday.
Several older fans immediately began producing photographs from events where Wednesday and Enid had unknowingly been captured in the same place.
Someone found that Wednesday had attended three of Enid’s film premieres.
Another found Enid photographed leaving a literary award ceremony where Wednesday had won.
Someone else discovered that both women had separately mentioned spending Christmas in the same town for nine consecutive years.
Then an old interview clip resurfaced.
Enid was twenty-six.
The interviewer had asked:
“What’s the most romantic thing your partner has ever done?”
Enid had smiled.
“Dug up a body for me.”
The host had stared.
Enid had burst out laughing.
“I’m kidding.”
The clip ended.
Six people in Bianca’s living room stared at the television.
Ajax slowly said:
“She wasn’t kidding.”
“No,” Eugene said.
Divina covered her face.
“That was the anniversary scavenger hunt.”
Bianca remembered.
“The Victorian cemetery.”
Yoko nodded.
“She had permits.”
Agnes frowned.
“That makes it less romantic.”
Eugene kissed her temple.
“I knew I loved you for a reason.”
Another hour passed.
Still no champagne.
Still no birth announcement.
The humour began wearing thin.
Bianca checked the family group again.
Nothing.
Ajax’s leg bounced.
Divina had stopped scrolling.
Yoko still held her phone but no longer laughed every time another headline appeared.
Eugene sat with Agnes tucked against him.
Everyone was thinking the same thing.
Thirty-six weeks.
Early.
Fast labour.
Wednesday.
Their Wednesday.
The woman who would describe internal bleeding as inconvenient if she believed it prevented someone else worrying.
Yoko finally put her phone facedown.
“She’s going to be fine.”
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Bianca said:
“Yes.”
Yoko looked at her.
Bianca’s certainty was deliberate.
Not naïve.
Chosen.
“She’s with Enid. Morticia’s there. They’re in a hospital. We’ve been told both are stable.”
Ajax reached for her hand.
Bianca took it.
Divina quietly slid closer to Yoko.
Eugene looked toward the champagne.
“Still closed.”
Yoko nodded.
“Still closed.”
Agnes asked:
“What are we waiting for exactly?”
Yoko counted on her fingers.
“Wednesday safe.”
“One.”
“Baby safe.”
“Two.”
“Boy or girl.”
“Three.”
“Name.”
“Four.”
Divina smiled faintly.
“Then?”
Yoko looked at the bottle.
“Then I become intolerable.”
Ajax snorted.
“So normal.”
“Exactly.”
The message came twenty-seven minutes later.
Every phone in the room chimed simultaneously.
Nobody moved for half a second.
Then chaos.
Bianca grabbed hers.
Ajax nearly dropped his.
Yoko swore because Face ID failed twice.
Eugene opened the family chat first.
Morticia.
A photograph had not been included.
Of course not.
Just words.
MORTICIA: Wednesday is well.
Every person in the room exhaled.
Bianca closed her eyes.
Ajax’s head dropped back against the sofa.
Divina squeezed Yoko’s hand.
Eugene smiled.
Agnes whispered:
“Thank God.”
A second message appeared.
MORTICIA: Baby is healthy and requires observation due to arriving early, but there are currently no significant concerns.
Yoko slapped one hand against her chest.
“Okay.”
Bianca laughed shakily.
“Okay.”
Ajax stood.
“Champagne?”
Yoko pointed at him.
“Sex and name.”
Ajax sat back down.
“Right.”
A minute passed.
Nothing.
Yoko stared at the chat.
“What are they doing?”
Divina laughed.
“Probably having a baby, Yoko.”
“The baby has occurred.”
“Recovering, then.”
“Unreasonable.”
Another message appeared.
This time from Enid.
ENID: We have a son. 🖤🌈
The room exploded.
“A BOY!”
Yoko was on her feet.
Eugene punched both fists upward.
Ajax grabbed Bianca around the waist.
Divina squealed.
Agnes actually bounced in her chair.
Bianca laughed.
“A little boy.”
Eugene stared at the message.
“Wednesday has a son.”
Yoko froze.
Everyone slowly looked at one another.
Ajax whispered:
“That kid is going to be terrifying.”
Agnes nodded.
“Statistically inevitable.”
Divina laughed.
“I want to know what he looks like.”
Bianca immediately said:
“You will when they’re ready.”
“I know.”
Yoko grabbed the champagne.
Ajax pointed.
“Name.”
Yoko stopped.
Slowly lowered it.
“I hate rules.”
“You made the rule.”
“I hate past me.”
Another message came.
This time from Gomez.
GOMEZ: SERAPHINA HAS BEEN ENTRUSTED WITH THE ANNOUNCEMENT.
Yoko frowned.
“What announcement?”
Agnes smiled first.
“The name.”
Everyone went quiet.
Of course.
Of course Wednesday and Enid had given that to Phina.
Several minutes passed.
Then Bianca’s phone rang.
Video call.
Morticia.
Bianca answered immediately.
The screen filled with a hospital waiting room.
Noise.
Far too many relatives.
Gomez’s face appeared for approximately one second before Morticia redirected the phone.
And then Seraphina stood in front of them.
Tiny.
Proud.
Barely containing herself.
“HI!”
Everyone responded at once.
“Hi, Phina!”
Seraphina beamed.
“I have a brother!”
Yoko pressed both hands to her cheeks.
“We heard!”
“He’s really little.”
“How little?” Eugene asked.
Phina thought.
Then held her hands approximately four inches apart.
“This little.”
Ajax whispered:
“That seems medically concerning.”
Bianca elbowed him.
Phina continued.
“But he’s strong.”
Her face became solemn.
“And I picked his name.”
Agnes leaned closer.
“You did?”
Seraphina nodded proudly.
“Because I’m the big sister.”
Divina’s eyes filled.
Yoko immediately pointed at her.
“Don’t.”
“You’re crying too.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Phina looked confused.
“Why are you crying?”
Yoko sniffed.
“Allergies.”
“To what?”
“Emotion.”
Seraphina accepted this.
Then straightened.
“His name is Ryuu.”
Silence.
Eugene smiled first.
“Ryuu.”
Phina nodded.
“It means dragon.”
Agnes’s entire face softened.
“Oh.”
“Because dragons are little when they hatch.”
Phina spread her hands again.
“But then they get really strong.”
That did it.
Divina cried properly.
Yoko stopped pretending she wasn’t.
Bianca wiped beneath one eye.
Ajax looked at the ceiling.
Eugene hugged Agnes closer.
Seraphina frowned at all of them.
“Everybody keeps crying.”
Bianca laughed.
“It’s a very good name, sweetheart.”
Phina brightened.
“I know.”
Wednesday’s daughter.
Without question.
Behind her, Gomez shouted:
“THE CHAMPAGNE!”
Yoko’s head snapped around.
She looked at the bottle.
Then at the phone.
“Gomez Addams, you genius.”
Morticia’s voice drifted from somewhere offscreen.
“Not in the hospital, mon coeur.”
“TRAGEDY!”
The call dissolved into laughter.
Seraphina waved.
“I have to go see my brother again.”
“Go,” Bianca said.
“Give your mommies our love.”
“I will.”
Phina disappeared.
Morticia briefly returned to the screen.
“They are both exhausted.”
Bianca nodded.
“But safe?”
Morticia smiled.
“Safe.”
That was enough.
The call ended.
Silence settled over the room.
Yoko reached for the champagne.
This time nobody stopped her.
She popped the cork.
It hit Ajax in the shoulder.
“OW!”
Yoko stared.
“Worth it.”
Bianca started laughing.
Glasses appeared.
Champagne poured.
Six friends raised them.
Eugene spoke first.
“To Wednesday.”
“Wednesday,” they echoed.
Bianca added:
“To Enid.”
“Enid.”
Divina smiled.
“To Seraphina.”
“Phina.”
Ajax lifted his glass higher.
“And Ryuu.”
Yoko grinned.
“To the tiny dragon.”
They drank.
Then Agnes’s phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Paused.
Started laughing.
Eugene leaned over.
“What?”
Agnes turned the screen.
Another breaking-news alert.
ENID SINCLAIR AND WEDNESDAY ADDAMS WELCOME SECOND CHILD FOLLOWING DRAMATIC LIVE-TV REVEAL
Yoko nearly inhaled champagne.
“Second child?”
Bianca grabbed the phone.
“They don’t even know the first child’s name!”
Divina started laughing again.
Ajax read over her shoulder.
“They’re calling the baby ‘Baby Addams-Sinclair.’”
Eugene shook his head.
“Poor Ryuu.”
Agnes scrolled.
“Oh, this one is better.”
She read:
“‘Representatives for Sinclair and Addams have not yet confirmed the sex, name or condition of the child.’”
Yoko raised her glass.
“We have exclusive information.”
Bianca pointed at her.
“You have private information.”
“Same letters.”
“Not remotely.”
“You’re no fun.”
“And nobody is posting anything.”
Yoko placed a hand over her heart.
“I would never.”
Everyone stared at her.
She looked wounded.
“I genuinely wouldn’t.”
That softened them.
Because she wouldn’t.
None of them would.
The internet could speculate.
It could discover the marriage.
It could rediscover interviews and photographs and clues that had been sitting in plain sight for years.
It could scream itself hoarse over the fact that Enid Sinclair’s mysterious spouse was Wednesday Addams.
But Ryuu belonged to them first.
To Wednesday.
To Enid.
To Seraphina.
To the strange sprawling family and collection of friends waiting for him before he had even arrived.
His name did not belong to the internet.
Not until his mothers decided otherwise.
Yoko lifted her glass again.
“To privacy.”
Ajax choked.
Bianca stared.
Divina burst out laughing.
Eugene said:
“From you?”
Yoko shrugged.
“I contain multitudes.”
“Mostly crimes,” Agnes said.
Yoko pointed at her.
“I like you.”
Agnes smiled.
“I know.”
Bianca picked up the remote.
The news continued.
Another photograph of Enid appeared.
Wedding ring clearly visible on her hand.
Then Wednesday.
Then an old red-carpet clip.
Then Pugsley charging through security again.
The caption beneath it read:
THE SECRET MARRIAGE HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT
Ajax leaned back.
“This is going to run for weeks.”
“Months,” Bianca corrected.
Divina smiled.
“Wednesday is going to hate it.”
Yoko took another sip.
“She has a newborn. Maybe she won’t notice.”
Six people considered this.
Then Eugene said:
“She’ll notice.”
Everyone nodded.
Definitely.
Yoko smiled at the television.
“Well.”
She raised her glass toward Wednesday’s profoundly unimpressed photograph.
“Congratulations, Addams.”
Her smile softened.
“For everything.”
Around her, the others lifted their glasses too.
Outside their little room, the internet continued exploding.
Inside it, six people who had known the truth all along celebrated the only news that actually mattered.
Wednesday was safe.
The baby was safe.
Seraphina had a brother.
And his name was Ryuu.