Disclaimer: I own nothing; anything Grey's related can be credited to Shonda Rhimes, while the story title, chapter title, and lyrics belong to The Clash.
North and South
"Now I know, time can march with its charging feet.
Now I know, words are only cheap."
Chapter 1: One Emotion
"All you ever know is your narrow life."
"Addison Forbes Montgomery!"
That was bad. When her mother used her full name like that, it was always bad. Even at only eight years old, this Addison knew.
"Addison! Where have you been hiding? Your dance class starts in less than an hour, and I don't have times for your games today!"
Noting her mother's serious tone, Addison quickly ran out into the hall where her mother was standing.
"Hurry up and put on your coat and your boots, Addison." Her mother pursed her lips, but refrained from saying anything else.
Her mother hurried her out the door and into the car that took them through the busy Manhattan streets. When they reached the tall building that housed Addison's ballet lessons, the car pulled into the driveway, and stopped to let Addison off. Her mother hardly ever came in with her. She had important appointments that needed to be kept and gatherings that needed to be attended and organized.
Addison climbed out of the car and looked with trepidation at the looming building. For a minute, she considered not going inside, but even she knew better than to skip her class. Her mother would most definitely find out. With this in mind, she went through the revolving glass doors.
Ballet had been her mother's idea. Everything, from the clothes she wore to the way she spent her time, was her mother's idea.
According to Clarisse Montgomery, ballet would give Addison grace and posture. It would teach her discipline and mould her into an elegant young lady. It didn't matter that Addison didn't want to be an elegant young lady. What Addison wanted never mattered.
Addison had never been good at being the daughter that her mother wanted. It seemed to her that she and her mother never agreed on anything.
Sometimes, she wondered why her mother even bothered. Addison resisted every attempt that her mother made to refine her. Maybe it was the fact that she was a product of Manhattan, but she'd never been able to sit still. There was always too much going on around her; from the busy streets outside her window to the hustle and bustle inside her house.
Her mother tried though, continually. For every party and function, she dressed Addison up like a china doll. She'd attempt to make Addison sit on a chair for the evening, so as not to ruin her dress and not to muss her beautiful red hair. Addison always ended up playing raucous games in the conservatory with her male cousins. Usually, she'd end up ripping her dress.
Her father, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Harold Montgomery was a successful ophthalmologist with a private practice. In his eyes, Addison could do no wrong. She was their only child, had come to them late in life, and had inherited her mother's red hair. But he never put his foot down against any of Clarisse's decisions about how Addison should be raised.
Addison had been dancing since she was only three years old. At eight, she knew that she was being groomed for her mother's life. She had spent enough time in the world of high society to understand how these kinds of things worked. The only problem was that Addison knew that she didn't want her mother's life.
Addison wanted to be her father. She wanted to be a doctor. She didn't want to spend her life dancing ballet to make her into the person she most wished she wouldn't become.
Since she couldn't stay still at any other time, ballet class was no exception. Her teacher would constantly reprimand her for not following instructions. Then her mother, who was always given weekly reports by her teacher, would later remind her why she was taking these classes. And how did she ever expect to become an elegant young lady if she didn't pay attention?
Today was different, though. Addison was preoccupied. Today, her mother wasn't at a meeting for one of her social groups, or an afternoon tea. During the car ride to her class, she'd begged her mother to tell her where she was going, but her mother wouldn't comply. It was a mystery appointment, and this wasn't the first one. The past months had been full of appointments and hushed conversations between her parents that ended the moment they saw their daughter approaching.
Today, for the first time that she could remember, Addison listened to every word that her teacher told them. She followed every movement with grace and carefully learned the techniques. Her teacher was shocked into silence at the sudden change in Addison's demeanour.
When her mother picked her up a couple hours later, she looked upset. This was soon forgotten as Clarisse spoke to Addison's teacher.
The two of them went back outside and got into her mother's car. However, they didn't go home. Soon, Addison found herself pressing her face up against the pretty Christmas windows in Herald Square. As excited by the falling snow and the Christmas cheer as a child in a candy store, she ran up and down the sidewalk looking at all the displays. For once, her mother forgot her position as Addison's role model and a society lady and let herself enjoy her daughter's excitement. It was a nice change for both of them.
That year, Christmas came and went just like it did every other year. For Addison, Christmas always meant an endless string of social engagements that needed to be persevered through. Christmas meant frilly dresses and uncomfortable shoes. It meant her Christmas ballet recital. It meant extra classes and rehearsals.
Addison was never ready for Christmas. The actual holiday was nice. That was something to look forward to. The Christmas season for the Montgomery's however, was definitely not.
A few weeks after Christmas, Clarisse and Harold sat Addison down in the kitchen. They told her that her mother had brain cancer, and that it was terminal.
Addison was smart. She was smart for her age, but she didn't know what those words meant. They were scary words, because all she understood was that her mother was dying.
And all of a sudden, the mysterious appointments and hushed conversations made sense to her. Her mother had known for a while that she was dying.
For the first time, Addison sat completely still on her chair, too shocked to move.
A/N: This is part one of a six part story about Addison. Each chapter is a different phase of her life. Coming up in Chapter 2 are Addison's high school years. It will probably be up within the next week.
As a side note about this story, when I first started to write it, each of the chapters was themed around a line in the U2 song, "New York". Each chapter has changed a lot since then, but those themes are still there. If anyone knows the song, let me know if you figured out which lyric corresponds to the chapter. Personally, I think this one's pretty obvious :)
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