Sweet Innocence – a light gray with a hint of lavender, by Benjamin Moore
Ana arrives home to bedlam. At first unable to discern what Christian and Phoebe are arguing about, she follows the noise until she can hear her husband's too-calm voice (she knows that deceptively serene tone so well) say, "This discussion is over, young lady. You'll either comply with my wishes or be permanently grounded. And, no matter what else happens, you're never going out in public dressed like that!"
Since Phoebe became a teenager—a little longer, to be completely honest—her angry voice has become known to, not just her parents, but their entire staff. "This isn't a discussion. It's never a discussion. You always just expect me to do whatever you say. I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I can make decisions for myself."
"Oh, yes, we've just had a prime example of your decision-making capabilities; trying to sneak out and go to a concert, without a protection officer, despite the fact that both I and your mother made it very clear that you're too young to go at all. Which reminds me; if that boy who was lurking by the gate ever again comes within a hundred yards of you or this house, I'll have him shot."
Oh, Lord; please let him be joking. Accelerating her pace to intercede before things get worse, Ana is almost to them when Phoebe shouts, "You can't fucking control everything I do!"
"I can, and I will. While you live under this roof, you'll do as we say. And I'll ask you to curb your language when you speak to me, just as I've always done for you."
Christian's calm tone and manner apparently driving Phoebe to new heights of rage, their darling daughter spits out, "I hate you! I fucking hate you."
Ana enters the room just in time to hear Christian mutter "Join the fucking club," as Phoebe pounds up the stairs, even her footsteps expressing fury, with the final punctuation of a slammed bedroom door echoing through the house.
Clearly, she's too late to fulfill her unofficial role as family mediator, so Ana tries for levity. "Hi, honey; I'm home."
Christian doesn't even turn around, his gaze fixed on the top of the stairs as he sighs and asks, "You heard?"
"Darling, I think even Teddy heard."
Their son is three thousand miles away, having just started at Harvard; much to his father's delight and his mother's dismay—she'd been hoping he'd choose Stanford; it's closer. It's enough to elicit a soft laugh from Christian and he finally turns to greet her with open arms as he admits, "Yeah." Then kissing her, as if that alone can make everything all right, he says, "Hey, baby. I'm sorry you had to come home to that. How was the meeting?"
"Good; another million dollar book deal in the bag. Worried, yet?"
"Considering that I made at least that much just today; no. But I'm so proud of you, baby."
He means it. She can tell. "Thank you, darling." Then reaching up a hand to tenderly soothe the lines on his brow, she asks, "You okay?"
Surrendering to her compassion, Christian lets her see the pain he's in—his face contorted with grief—as he says, "She said she hates me…she's never gone that far before."
Her heart aching for him and Phoebe, Ana says, "But you know she doesn't mean it; not really."
"Yeah, I know, but it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. I can't seem to…we can't communicate anymore without her screaming at me and running to her room."
"Drink?"
He's obviously tempted, but says, "No. I'll give her a chance to cool down while I work out her punishment. I'll need a clear head for that conversation."
Slipping the tip of her index finger through one of his belt loops, she drags him towards the stairs. "Okay. Let's go to bed in the meantime."
Now smiling, Christian lets her lead him as he says, "Uh, not that I'm complaining, but don't you want to know what happened?"
"I got the general gist of it; Phoebe tried to sneak out and go to that concert with a boy. But that wasn't the most important detail of what I just heard."
Removing her hand from his belt and bringing to his lips before holding it as they ascend the stairs, Christian says, "No? Because I thought that a fairly fucking relevant fact."
Ana stops their progress, takes the step above him, turns and rests her hands on his shoulders as she says, "Oh, it is. But I'm talking about the fact that you said, 'You'll do as we say.' You included me, even though I wasn't here."
Grinning, his hands on her waist, Christian says, "Maybe I want you to share some of the blame?" When Ana gently pushes on him, silently threatening to shove him down the stairs, he laughs and says, "Okay, okay. Yes, we're a team. That's true whether or not you're actually with me."
"And this is why we're going to the bedroom."
His gaze suddenly intense, Christian puts one arm along the banister, the other under the small of her back, and lays her down on the carpeted stairs, following her with his body as he says, "I'm not sure I can wait that long."
Laughing, even as passion floods through her body, Ana says, "I'm afraid it'll be a few more years before we can again fuck on the stairs whenever we want to." As if she hasn't even spoken, Christian tugs the hem of her blouse free from her skirt and commences kissing her midriff. "Christian, I'm serious; Phoebe might come out of her room."
Not even lifting his head, Christian murmurs against her skin, tickling her with his evening stubble, "You know very well she's not putting a foot out here unless I drag her, and it would serve her fucking right if she did."
"Okay."
That gets his attention. Christian lifts his head and studies her expression as he asks, "You'd let me fuck you, right here, where our daughter might find us?" When she offers only a Mona Lisa smile, he complains, "I fucking hate it when you do that."
Of course she knows, but "innocently" asks, "Do what, darling?"
Christian is already helping her to stand as he says, "Know me well enough to call my bluff."
"I know you love our daughter."
She realizes it's one of those rare times that he's not in the mood for sex, when he sits down and says only, "Yeah."
They didn't have this problem with Teddy; their golden boy having inherited his mother's tranquility. Oh, he'll fight tooth and nail if he thinks some injustice is being perpetrated, but most of life's stressors roll off his imperviously good nature. Hesitating only long enough to think of the right phrasing, Ana sits beside Christian and suggests, "Maybe it's time to try something new; grounding her doesn't seem to be working."
Turning his harried gaze on her, he attempts a smile and says, "At this stage I'm happy to consider anything, babe. We can't go on like this; she'll be driven to do something reckless."
"Do you accept that, at fifteen, she's old enough to understand adult concepts?"
"Did you see what she's fucking wearing tonight? I'm pretty sure there are parts of this very country where such an outfit would get her arrested."
Accepting that as an affirmative reply, Ana says, "Then I think it's time to tell her why she will never go anywhere without a bodyguard."
"I did fucking tell her. She knows that simply being our daughter makes her a target. And we both told her that, though her favorite band is now clean and sober, their fans aren't necessarily as enlightened; drugs would handed out like candy at that concert. I mean, I trust her not to knowingly take any, but…fuck, you know what I mean. And that's only one of the dangers at a gig like that."
He's pretty worked up. Not confident that he's ready to hear her plan, Ana's heart is beating loud as she says, "Not quite what I meant. I think…maybe it's time to tell her everything."
Clearly confused, Christian says, "My childhood? How the fuck would that help? She doesn't need that shit in her head."
"Well, that too, but I mean all of it; your early upbringing, the constant threats, my kidnapping and…and I think we should tell her and Teddy how he got that scar."
Even as she finishes speaking, Christian is shaking his head. "No. No fucking way. You promised that, if I saw Flynn, I'd never have to speak of it again."
She suspected it would be too much, "Okay, not the scar, but she needs to know the rest of it, Christian, because she has no idea why her life has to be like this. You know how smart she is; she'll find a way to escape her minders. And she's already in danger if our staff have to watch her every move as well as keep an eye out for potential threats."
He groans, as if in pain, and says, "Yeah, I know. Taylor said as much to me tonight; reminded me how difficult it was to protect you before you understood why it was necessary." That reminder makes them both smile, but only for a moment, and a solemn mood again descends over them. Bringing one hand up to gently caress her face, Christian adds, "Okay if we fuck later, baby? I need to think about this."
Knowing him well enough to guess that he means alone, Ana says, "Of course, darling. I'm with you, whatever you decide. I know you'll do the right thing."
"Thank you, baby." Kissing her as if they've never had a care in the world, Christian then affectionately rubs his nose against hers and murmurs, "I will be glad when I can again fuck you wherever and whenever I wish."
Christian asserting his dominance is still the one thing guaranteed to get her in the mood, but she also knows that he remains in love with her defiant nature, so she grins and teases, "I'm sure you meant to say 'wherever and whenever we wish'."
His gaze darkens with sudden lust, his soulful gray eyes practically black with the intensity of his craving, and he says, "Oh, baby, I love you. When this is sorted I'm going to take my time making you regret that."
This, right here; this they've always got right. "Promise?"
He again kisses her, not tenderly this time; but passionately, desperately, hungrily…hard enough that there's a metallic taste in her mouth when he finally draws back, his chest heaving as his body struggles to get enough oxygen to fuel his desire. She knows that taste; one of them drew blood. For the life of her, she doesn't know which of them now has a slight cut inside their bottom lip; her brain too consumed by her need for him, to be concerned with such trivialities. Christian is staring seemingly into her soul when he vows, "Yes."
Finally cried out, but still furious, Phoebe does what she can to repair her appearance and phones Billy. Just the sight of his concerned face on the tiny screen improves her mood, until he greets her with, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me that your parents hadn't given you permission? It scared the shit out of me when the alarm went off. And I thought that old fucker was going to kill me! Is he armed?"
He can only mean Uncle Jay. Suddenly feeling defensive of the man who's been like a second father to her, Phoebe says, "Always, but he wouldn't need that to kill you. And I'm fine, thanks for asking." It's a little unfair of her to play for sympathy; the fact that he's using such language is proof of how upset he is.
His expression immediately softens and he says, "Sorry, Bee. But I arrive to take you to the concert, and instead get warned off by some grandpa with a death glare. No wonder you were adamant that your parents didn't want to meet me. Are you okay? I'm guessing you're grounded for eternity?"
"I presume so. Dad has this policy of never administering punishments while he's angry. I don't know if he realizes that waiting becomes part of the punishment." She's not used to saying it, so hesitates a little, nervously biting her lip, then says, "I'm sorry, Billy. I should have told you. Would you have still taken me if you knew I was sneaking out?"
His sudden grin reminding her why she's had a crush on him for what seems like forever, she nevertheless suspects he's joking when he says, "Probably." Then he frowns and asks, "Why didn't you tell me? I thought we had an honesty thing going?"
Squirming, Phoebe says, "Yeah, I…uh, I'm not sure. I guess I was embarrassed. You're so normal and I'm so…Christian Grey's daughter."
Again smiling, Billy teases, "Oh, I see; you think that you're all that because your daddy is on Forbes' Top Ten Billionaires?"
Glaring at him, Phoebe says, "Not what I meant, and you know it. My family is…odd. For my seventh birthday, all I wanted was a party at Chuck E. Cheese; like a regular kid. Instead, Dad rented the entire restaurant for the afternoon; just me, my friends and their parents…oh, and a small army of security officers, of course. And I feel like a freak, going everywhere with a bodyguard…people stare at me all the time."
"People stare at you because you're a knockout."
He's the only person who can make her blush, and he can do it so easily. Phoebe can't quite meet his eyes as she says, "I doubt it."
"I don't."
They're quiet for a while, just content to smile at each other over this suddenly insufficient medium, then she says, "I want you to go to the concert."
"I can't go without you. We've been looking forward to this for weeks."
"Please. I'll feel bad if you miss out because of me."
He's got his thinking face on; she loves that one…she loves all of them. "I've got a better idea. Go find your dad and give him the phone."
Not sure if she's heard right, except for her heart suddenly trying to get out of her chest from fright, Phoebe says, "What?"
Smiling at her shock, Billy carefully enunciates, "Find your dad and give him your phone. I want to talk to him."
"Are you mad? He'll flip out!"
"Then we'll be no worse off than we are now."
It's a good point. "All right, but if he kills you, I'll never forgive you."
Surprised at the knock on his study door, Christian says only, "Yes?"
He's even more surprised when the door opens to reveal a very nervous Phoebe. Her eyes are red-rimmed from crying; a sight that has always threatened to crack his heart in two. "Dad, can I talk to you?"
Presuming it's to beg for leniency, he hardens his heart and coolly says "You can always talk to me, Phoebe," and gestures to the nearest chair.
She doesn't sit, but says, "Uh, my…I have a boyfriend." His expression must betray his sudden shock, dismay, disappointment and rage, because she quickly adds, "Oh, not that we've…he wouldn't…he's a good person, Dad." Suddenly thrusting her phone at him, she concludes, "He wants to talk to you."
Accepting the phone as if it's a rattlesnake, Christian is pleased with how calm he sounds when he says, "Thank you, Phoebe; that will be all, for now."
She appears to be in a kind of emotional shock, numbly giving up her phone and turning to go. He can't leave it like that, so grabs at one of her hands and squeezes it in reassurance. She turns on him a smile like sunshine and kisses his cheek before leaving.
Steeling himself for a confrontation, he finally looks at the phone, to see a skinny, nervous teenager. This is her boyfriend? Christian could snap him in half without breaking a sweat. "To whom am I speaking?"
"Uh, William Blake, sir. Thank you, for agreeing to speak with me. May I start by saying that I had no idea you'd refused Phoebe permission to attend the concert...oh, not that I'm saying Phoebe did anything wrong; she was just—"
"Even the band's website says that it's not suitable for anyone under the age of sixteen. Do you honestly expect me to believe that you didn't know she's too young?"
Apparently, the kid has balls, because his expression hardens to meet Christian's hostility and he calmly says, "Yes, sir. Because I've been going to similar concerts since I was fourteen, with my parents' permission and accompanied by my older brother at that age, and I've never been refused entry. I don't do drugs, I have a perfect driving record, and I've had exactly one small drink of alcohol in my life and…and I love your daughter."
Oh, fuck! This is so much worse than I thought. "Get your ass over here."
"Sir?"
"I can see the playground behind you. You're three hundred yards from my house. Get your ass over here, so we can have a proper conversation. Someone will meet you at the gate."
And he's apparently smart, too, because he suddenly appears truly terrified, but says only, "Yes, sir."
As expected, Phoebe is nervously waiting nearby, when Christian emerges from his study. He returns her phone as he says, "Come in. I want to show you something."
He can see that Phoebe is bursting with questions about his conversation with Blake, but she wisely says nothing and meekly obeys him. This time she sits when he gestures to a chair. He puts the folder on her lap and silently instructs her to open it. The first is pretty bad; a scrawled promise to kill his family while he watches. Phoebe's shocked gaze flies to his and she asks, "Is this for real? Someone sent this to you?"
"To Grey House, yes. Your mother seems to think that you're ready to know why you've had a close protection officer assigned to you since you were born. I'm not so sure."
Despite Phoebe looking like an immature version of her mother, moments like these leave no doubt that she's his daughter, too. Because she not only comprehends that he's issued a challenge, but silently accepts it, returning her attention to the increasingly horrific threats; some handwritten, others typed, several transcripts of online threats and a few painstakingly cut from magazines in an effort to conceal their origin.
He's already regretting taking Ana's advice, because Phoebe becomes quite pale as she delves into the sick minds of people who wish their family harm for no better reason than being famous makes him a target. He hates this fact about his life; that becoming successful has put his family in the crosshairs, too. Of course, most of them are empty threats. But he knows, from bitter experience, that it only takes one determined psycho to bring his entire world crashing down upon his head.
Phoebe's done. With trembling fingers she touches the time stamp on some of them as she asks, "These are just from today?"
"Just from this evening, sweetie. After we…talked earlier, I asked Welch to send me these copies. He hands them over to the authorities each day. They have experts who can work out the most credible threats and do what they can to track them down. But the biggest danger comes from those who don't advertise their intentions. I've done what I can to keep your life free of such…darkness. But Mom's right; you need to know. Your actions this evening are proof of that."
She has the decency to look ashamed and says, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't hate you. I couldn't hate you. I just get so mad when you won't listen to me."
"I know, Peaches. Unfortunately, you inherited your mother's temper."
They both smile at the blatant lie—Phoebe has, in fact, inherited the lethal combination of her mother's courage and her father's mercurial mood—and then she dares to ask, "How'd it go with Billy?"
"He's on his way; probably enduring a pat down and psychological torture from Taylor as we speak." She tries to remain calm, but Phoebe's hands betray her and nervously adjust her appearance, as if against her will. "You really like this kid?"
Is his daughter blushing? "Yeah, Dad; yeah, I do."
"Probably should cancel that contract I've had put out on him, then?"
"Can you smile when you say things like that, so I know you're joking?"
Still projecting icy calm, Christian teases, "Who said I'm joking?" The knock on the door makes her jump. He takes the now closed folder from her hands as he kisses her forehead and whispers, "Will you relax? He'll be nervous enough as it is."
As expected, on the other side of the door are a stony-faced Jason Taylor and a perspiring William Blake. Christian barely manages to keep from smiling when Taylor says "Your visitor, sir. Unless you need me for anything else, I'll be in the armory," but with a wink that the young man cannot see.
Christian knows very well that, at this time of night, Taylor will simply be spending time with his family. "Thanks, Jay." Handing over the folder, he adds, "Shred that, would you?" With a nod, Taylor accepts it and leaves.
He's almost feeling sorry for the kid. Blake is holding his ground, though; standing practically at attention and stoically meeting Christian's gaze. Extending his hand, the object of Phoebe's affection says, "A pleasure to finally meet you, sir."
Christian accepts the gesture, applying pressure until the kid grimaces. "Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it? We're off to a rocky start."
When released, Blake lets his hand hang by his side, apparently ignoring the pain. "Yes, sir."
Okay, this kid is beginning to impress him; he's respectful, tough and courageous…even here, in the lion's den. And Christian is entirely confident that only someone with intelligence would catch the eye of his gifted daughter. "I'm going to fetch my wife, so that she can also meet you. You have five minutes to greet Phoebe, and you'd better fucking be in separate chairs when I return."
Visibly relaxing a little, and finally daring to glance behind Christian, where Phoebe is no doubt trying to reassure him with hand signals, Blake again says only, "Yes, sir."
Christian isn't quite to Ana's study when Welch calls. "Sir, I've found the connection; a William James Blake is in Phoebe's math class."
"She's two years ahead, so he's either seventeen or also a math wizard."
"Uh, not a math wizard, though his grades have improved since she started the advanced class. No way Phoebe would let him cheat off her work, so she's probably tutoring him. Zoe, of course, isn't allowed inside the room during class, so she couldn't have known." Christian considers the implications long enough that Welch adds, "Want a full profile?"
If he's trusting Phoebe with adult truths, he should trust her choice in boys, too. "I'll get back to you. That'll do for now, thanks."
"You got it, boss. Good luck."
Only one person is permitted to enter Ana's study without first knocking. When he silently opens the door, she's leaning forward, engrossed by something on her computer screen, and looks so lovely that, though he's seen the same sight countless times, it still somehow makes him believe that everything will turn out okay. Finally sensing his presence, she looks at him and smiles. "What did you decide?"
"That it's about time you visited an optometrist."
She leans back, away from the screen, and says, "Yeah, you could be right. Half the time I have to zoom in, just so I can read without getting eyestrain. But I meant; what did you decide about Phoebe's punishment?"
Gently pushing papers aside, he perches on the edge of the desk and studies her face as he asks, "Did you know she has a boyfriend?"
"What? No. Are you sure?"
Satisfied that Ana wasn't keeping this knowledge from him, Christian shrugs and says, "Pretty sure. He's in my study, with Phoebe, waiting to meet you."
"Oh. Well…what…I'm sorry, darling; I'm kind of in shock here."
Christian laughs, then hauls Ana to her feet and into his arms, "Right there with you, baby. I know we've discussed this possibility…inevitability, but it still somehow came as a surprise. Remember they skipped Phoebe another grade in math? I think he's in that class, so they've probably known each other a while."
"Well, have they…you know?"
"I'd rather not know, but I don't think so. Zoe would have noticed something if they were fooling around. But…" Screwing up his face in disgust, Christian reveals, "He says he loves her."
Suddenly and obviously struggling to contain her smile, Ana says, "Oh dear. Are you okay?"
"No. I'll need that drink after this." His heart beating faster in anticipation of what he intends to do, Christian continues, "And, I think you're right. I already showed Phoebe this evening's death threats, and I want to tell her…baby, could you help me? I'm not sure I can do it without you."
Suddenly anything but amused, Ana visibly swallows and says, "Of course, darling. You want to do it now?"
"Yes, while my courage holds."
"You're not fooling anyone in this room, Grey; your courage always holds."
High praise indeed, from the bravest person he knows. It's also a lie, but he's glad of it. "Thank you, baby. You ready?"
"Not even nearly. But we'd better not leave them alone too long. Oh, how does Phoebe feel about him?"
Again grimacing, Christian reveals, "She unconsciously straightened her clothes and hair when I said that he was on his way."
Now unable to curb her smile, Ana says, "Well, that's not good."
Thoroughly kissing her, drawing strength from every second of that perfect union, Christian then says, "Don't mess with me, woman. I'm doing my best to be understanding, but I'm walking a knife's edge here and may still end the evening taking out a restraining order against the kid."
Smiling her love for him, Ana takes his hand and leads him from the room as she says, "No, you won't, because you're smart enough to know that would ensure she keeps seeing him."
Following, as if he has no will of his own, Christian pouts, "Fine. Then I'll just have him shot."
Billy can't believe his luck. He gets five minutes with Phoebe; no teacher or bodyguard? That's more time alone with her than he's had since they met. When she glances at the time, he jokes, "Am I boring you?"
Phoebe grabs his arm and drags him into the room as she says, "If Dad says five minutes; we have exactly that long. Kiss me."
"What?"
"I was going to wait until after the concert, but we're not going, so…" Suddenly appearing unsure, Phoebe asks, "You don't want to kiss me?"
Glancing down at his trembling hands—seriously, that graying guy who met him at the gate could star in a horror movie—he says, "I've wanted nothing else since I met you, but I'm traumatized, Bee…I think even my fingernails are sweating."
"You've wanted to kiss me since we met?"
Well, that's encouraging; she looks very pleased at the idea. "Just before, actually. You were standing up the front of the class being introduced by Ms. Jenkins, and looked too perfect to exist. I couldn't believe my luck when she told you to sit next to me."
God, how he loves it when she blushes and lowers her gaze, as if meeting his eyes is suddenly too much for her. Her voice is small when she reminisces, "You barely spoke to me."
"It's a wonder I could speak at all. My fingernails were sweating that day, too."
She's finally able to look at him, and the adoration shining from her eyes takes his breath away. It doesn't even feel like a choice when he steps forward and puts his arms around her. "You sure?"
Her shy nod is all the permission he needs. He's kissed before, but it was nothing like this; Phoebe's soft lips on his, her sweet breath and heavenly scent intoxicating him, her hands instinctively sliding around to caress his back, the exquisite feel of her body practically melting into his. She suddenly breaks away, leaving him in a daze, and glances at his groin as she incredulously exclaims, "It moved!"
One question answered; she's definitely a virgin, though she seems more intrigued than upset…another good sign. "Well, yeah. You're hot. It just means I want you. Doesn't mean I need to do anything about it, okay? I can wait."
She ponders the implications for a while, and then asks, "But we can kiss again?"
Thrilled that she wants to, he grins and says, "Assuming I live through this evening, we can kiss as often as you'd like…maybe not right now; I really don't want to be worried about concealing my erection when I meet your mother."
Phoebe giggles and agrees, "Good point." Suddenly serious—that adorable puckering of her brow expressing her concern—she says, "I won't let them break us up."
"Bee, you're only fifteen. The current life expectancy for men is seventy-seven, and I look after myself, so you've conservatively got me for sixty years; we don't need to rush. If they insist that we cool it for a while—at least until you're sixteen—I can live with that. We'll still talk every day."
"You'd wait for me?"
Sometimes, just sometimes, his heart, mind and mouth cooperate. "Only forever."
It seems as if his heart then actually stops for a few seconds when Mr. Grey's voice says, "Looks like you get to live, after all."
Breaking apart from Phoebe as if she's suddenly poisonous, he's facing the doorway as Mr. and Mrs. Grey enter; it's odd looking at an older, blue-eyed version of his girlfriend. His heart is now trying to leap out of his chest and his brain is frantically looking for a place to hide. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Oh, very articulate; way to impress them. Extending his right hand, he swallows and says "William Blake, ma'am; a pleasure to finally meet you," then silently curses himself for saying practically the same thing he'd said earlier…it hadn't gone down so well.
This woman apparently has every ounce of grace her husband lacks, because she accepts the gesture—her grip firm but gentle—and smiles as she says, "Please call me 'Ana'. And it's a pleasure to meet you." Then releasing his hand, she adds, "I'd like to say that Phoebe talks of you often, but I'm afraid I learned only minutes ago that she has a boyfriend."
He can feel Phoebe tense beside him…weird; she seems more nervous of her mom than her terrifying father. Hoping to ease the situation, he explains, "Uh, well we're…we really only know each other from school, ma'am…Ana. Tonight was going to be our first date."
She arches one eyebrow and coolly says, "Oh? Then I'm sorry it's been ruined by Phoebe's deceit."
Okay, now he's seeing the terrifying. It doesn't feel like a choice when he angles his body to protect Phoebe, as if from physical assault, and says, "From what I understand, you left her little choice."
He only understands that he's passed some kind of test, when Mrs. Grey smiles warmly at him and then says to her husband, "Why don't we move this to the living room, where we'll be more comfortable?"
Is the bastard smirking at me, or his wife? Suddenly, nothing else matters too much, because Phoebe slips her hand in his and leads the way. He's thrilled when she chooses a sofa, so they can sit together; still maintaining an apparent death grip on his hand. Mr. Grey does not like that, but he and Mrs. Grey sit on the sofa opposite and she asks, "So, how long have you two known each other?"
Billy looks to Phoebe, who's looking back at him, so he says, "Uh, almost three months. I'm in Bee…uh, Phoebe's math class…well, she's in mine, technically." Grimacing, he adds, "She's much better at it than I am, but I'm helping her with English."
Mrs. Grey eyes widen and she says, "You're the reason her grades improved?"
"I guess so, but Phoebe's done the same for me."
Turning to Mr. Grey, she says, "And he's modest, too."
This is starting to piss him off. "Ma'am, sir; while I appreciate this opportunity to meet you, I don't really understand what's going on."
He's surprised when Phoebe answers. "Mom and Dad want us to know that I'm in danger, so I won't try to sneak out ever again. If you were eighteen, they'd have you sign a non-disclosure agreement first, but it's not worth the paper it's printed on while you're a minor...it's not worth much even if you weren't."
Is that pride on Mr. Grey's face? "Phoebe's right. She often is. In fact, I'm counting on it; if she's right about you, we can trust you."
This, at least, he understands; the man is asking him a question. "Yes, sir. I won't discuss this with anyone."
"Thank you, son." Whatever he's about to say is difficult for him; he sighs and Mrs. Grey offers a subtle pressure on his hand…they're holding hands, too. "Have either of you researched our name?"
Billy hasn't…oh, he'd been tempted, but it just seemed too creepy to investigate the girl he liked. But Phoebe says, "I know that Mom was kidnapped when I was in pre-school, but I don't remember it."
"If you remembered anything it would only be Aunt Gail removing you from class and taking you to stay with Nan and Pop overnight."
Phoebe has many happy memories of the house at Bellevue, but nothing specifically like that. "Mom, what happened to the men? There were three of them, right?"
"Yes, but one was killed by his partners. The other two are currently awaiting execution in Oklahoma."
"They didn't hurt you?" Billy has never heard Phoebe sound afraid before.
"No, sweetheart. It was scary, mostly for your father, but I was pretty much drugged the whole time. They did intend to kill me though, as they had other victims. And the entire thing happened for no better reason than we have money."
Phoebe's distress lending him courage he didn't know he had, Billy swaps the hand she's holding so that he can rest an arm around her shoulders…Mr. Grey doesn't like that, either. Fuck you, old man; she needs me. The two males glare at each other for a while; no words needed for this argument. Amazingly, Billy wins the point, because Grey breaks eye contact, then glances at his wife before saying, "There's more. I keep what I can from becoming news. Remember, Phoebe, how I told you that the ones to be afraid of are those who don't advertise their intentions?"
She nods and explains to Billy, "Dad gets death threats…a lot of death threats. He showed me the latest just before you got here."
Christian nods and explains, "Some people, when their life turns to shit, look for someone to blame. One such man was Samuel August Winter; an alcoholic whose drinking habit had already cost him connections with friends and family, including his wife and children. When it also cost him his job, he still didn't consider changing his behavior; he just went searching for someone to blame for it. Every employee of any company I own has one chance to overcome addiction if…usually when, it begins to affect their work. So Mr. Winter was paid his usual wage while he underwent therapy, but the treatment didn't take and he backslid into alcoholism. When this was discovered, he was terminated; technically at my instruction, but without my knowledge. Apparently, being addicted to alcohol is not enough to prevent a citizen legally acquiring a hunting rifle; he already owned the weapon." This is clearly not easy for the guy; he's breathing hard and some beads of perspiration are visible on his upper lip.
"Daddy, you don't need to tell me this. I'm not going to try sneaking out again. I promise."
With a kind smile, Christian says, "It's all right, Peaches; you are your mother's daughter, so I know you can hear this. And Mr. Blake needs to know just how much danger he's in when he stands by your side." Taking a deep breath, he continues, "It was just before you were born. I went for a run early that morning, same as I always do, though my minders insist on a varying route, to minimize the risk. Despite their cautions, there was one stop I always made." Then looking at Billy, he concludes, "That playground where you parked this evening."
"Oh, God…Teddy." Confused, Billy nevertheless guesses that Phoebe must be referring to the older brother she mentioned. He tightens his embrace a little, hoping to sooth her distress, and she offers him a weak smile, confirming, "My brother. He's the spitting image of Dad, except for a small scar on his forehead and a lock of bright white hair."
Grey is actually looking a little gray when he nods and says, "It's the only time I was stationary on those runs; when I was getting Teddy out of the stroller. We think Winter was aided and abetted by an old enemy of mine, though we never could prove it beyond a casual acquaintance. Of course, he needed a few drinks before finding the courage to hide in the bushes and shoot an unarmed man in the back."
The sudden hate emanating from the man convinces Billy—not that he really had any doubt—he'd better never make an enemy of Mr. Grey. Again, Mrs. Grey offers silent support, this time asking, "Okay, baby? Want me to take it from here?"
Grey smiles a little and shakes his head, then explains, "I'm supposed to avoid stress; doctor's orders."
Phoebe's voice is barely audible when she says, "I didn't know that."
His smile genuine this time, Grey says, "It's okay, Peaches; my health is not your concern, okay? And having a teenage daughter is surprisingly not the most stressful part of my life." Taking another calming breath, he reveals, "You've guessed it. We think he assumed I'd be wearing body armor, because he chose penetrating ammunition." Lifting up his shirt enough to show a small puckered scar just above his right hip, he continues, "The bullet passed right through me before fragmenting. It was one of those fragments that glanced off Teddy's two year old skull; putting him into a coma that lasted for three days, though thankfully did no apparent permanent damage…other than a fondness for fries in a hot fudge sundae; sadly, not a euphemism, but the literal truth."
No one laughs. In fact, a profound silence has descended on the room; seemingly on the world. Billy is thinking about the fact that it could have just as easily been Phoebe in the stroller, so he can't keep the anger from his voice when he asks, "He's dead, sir?"
"Yes. I only ever had one protection officer with me in those days, so they had their hands full and Winter escaped. But he committed suicide later that day. Apparently, the note said that he couldn't live with the guilt of having almost killed a child. Guess that means he wouldn't have felt guilty if he'd merely murdered that child's father." Then looking only at Billy, Mr. Grey says, "These are the people who hunt my family, Mr. Blake, intent on bringing us down, in one way or another. And they look like regular folk. You could be talking to someone and never know that they're plotting my destruction."
"I understand, sir. I would never do anything to put Phoebe in danger."
"Except take her into a mosh pit; a practice that could result in anything from minor injury to death."
Wondering why Phoebe didn't tell them; Billy quickly realizes that she probably never got the chance. "The tickets are seated, sir. I agree that Phoebe is too young for the pit, despite being allegedly proficient in Taekwondo."
"Allegedly? I could kick your butt right now, if you need proof." He knew she wouldn't be able let that slide, and smiles his victory at her outburst. She blushes and says, "Oh. You're teasing."
Mrs. Grey is smiling and asks, "Why do I get the feeling he does that often?"
"Because he does." Phoebe then sighs and asks, "Anyone else have a powerful urge to phone Teddy?"
Grey doesn't even glance at his watch to say, "We'll have to wait until tomorrow; it's after midnight in Massachusetts." Then standing, he offers his hand to Billy and says, "Turns out it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake." They're both standing and shaking hands when he adds, "Make sure you're back here in time to attend the concert tomorrow; you'll have a driver this time."
Billy glances at Phoebe, who is equally shocked, and says, "Uh, that's very generous of you, sir. But I only had tickets for tonight."
Phoebe is studying her father's face and soon says, "You've already bought them."
With an infuriatingly smug grin, Grey says, "Yes. They'll be delivered by morning. There's a price, of course."
Surprisingly, Phoebe looks happy when she says, "Of course."
From an outsider's perspective, it seems that Phoebe must be closer to her mom—given the startling physical resemblance—but she clearly has a deep, caring bond with her father, too. Billy is wondering what that says about him—don't girls who love their father end up with guys just like them?—when Grey reveals, "After tomorrow, you'll be grounded for a month. Or, I'll accept missing out on the concert and grounded for a week as your punishment. If you're old enough to know all this stuff, you're old enough to have a say, too."
Billy is wondering if "grounded" means the same thing in this family as in his. Phoebe confirms his worst fears when she says, "No phone or internet, except for homework, and no socializing outside school."
She seems to be leaving the decision up to him. Praying he hasn't guessed wrong, he says only, "I'd pay more than that for a first date with you."
Mrs. Grey finally stands, as if she'd been waiting for this cue, and extends her hand. "Well said, young man. If you arrive at six, you can have dinner with us before you leave."
Seriously, who the hell is in charge of this family? He's not used to it. In his house Dad is clearly the boss. But then he hasn't seen his parents hold hands since…he can't remember. For several years now, he's assumed that they're merely waiting for him to graduate before they get a divorce. Shaking hands, he says, "Uh, thank you, m…Ana. That would be nice. And everyone just calls me 'Billy'."
Just like with her daughter, Mrs. Grey's genuine smile has the powerful effect of making him want to do something to see it again, and she says, "Billy. I'm glad now that we let Phoebe attend the advanced class. I was worried that she would find it socially intimidating."
"Seems the only thing Phoebe finds intimidating is you." Oh, crap! Did I just say that out loud?
Phoebe laughs first, soon joined by her parents, and Mr. Grey eventually calms down enough to say, "Billy, you have no idea; my wife is the scariest person you'll ever meet. You'd be wise to remember that if you're going to be spending any time with this family."
He has no idea what's so funny, but he's glad to have not caused offence. "Yes, sir." It's gone so much better than he'd hoped, so he asks, "May Phoebe walk me out?"
Grey glances at his wife, who merely shrugs, and then he says, "I think that would be all right. Arrive early tomorrow, so you can meet Phoebe's CPO, Zoe, and learn what she expects of you."
"Yes, sir." This time Billy takes Phoebe's hand. When they're out of earshot he asks, "CPO?"
"Close Protection Officer; same as bodyguard. Zoe's cool, so long as you don't interfere with her work."
"Which is to keep you safe from kidnappers and snipers?"
"Amongst other things, yeah. You okay? I've never actually been in a situation like that. Dad's kind of obsessive about safety."
"Yeah, I got that impression from the cameras, traffic spikes, electrified fence, locked gates and American Jedi who frisked me for weapons the moment I got out of my car."
"I'm so sorry about that. You'll never have to endure that again. And Uncle Jay is a doll. He was probably giving you a hard time because they thought you were helping me sneak out."
"Yeah; don't ever do that again." Stopping their progress just short of his car, he gently pushes a lock of hair from her face and says, "I like your hair and forehead just the way it is."
This time he doesn't need to double-check that she wants him to kiss her; he can just tell. And she makes no comment on his growing erection when they finally end it, merely molding her body to his and leaning her head against his chest. God, he feels like he could do anything right now…certainly he'd do anything for her. He's wrapping as much of his arms as he can around her when she says, "Interesting evening, huh?"
He laughs and agrees, "Yeah; definitely not how I saw this playing out at all."
Lifting her head to smile at him, she asks, "How did you imagine it?"
"I pictured us chatting the whole way to the concert. And…and after I parked the car, I was going to hold your hand while we walked to our seats."
"I would have let you."
He can't help a smile at that and says, "Evidently. Seems like you would have let me kiss you goodnight, too."
"Yes." She smiles up at him, then appears nervous when as she asks, "Sure you're okay with a month of no phone calls?"
"No. But you fucked up."
She glares at him for a moment and then says, "You're teasing me again."
Smiling, he says, "Yes. It'll be all right, Bee. We'll still see each other in class. And there's a badminton tournament coming up in a few weeks. Maybe they'll let you go, since it's technically a school event."
Her eyes alight at the thought, Phoebe asks, "You'll be playing?"
"I'll be winning."
She laughs—he loves that carefree sound—and says, "Pretty full of yourself, aren't you?"
Even his skin seeming to thrill while she's in his arms, he confesses, "I am tonight. You'd better go in, before he sets the Jedi on me again."
Phoebe giggles and says, "Uncle Jay is going to love that nickname."
"God, don't tell him I suggested it!"
"I told you; he's a doll…oh, but I suspect he knows at least fifty ways to kill you with his bare hands, so you'd better not break my heart."
His own heart beating faster at this confirmation of how much she cares for him, Billy has never been more sincere when he vows, "I couldn't. I'm yours."
This time she definitely kisses him, though he's certainly a willing participant. And she's already confident enough to slip her tongue past his lips to meet his; sending sparks of pleasure straight to his groin. He's breathing hard and literally dizzy when she finally ends it and says, "Yes, you are. Be really early tomorrow, so we can hang out."
Almost too happy for words, he manages, "Yes, Peaches."
Her eyes flash with sudden fury…yes, he loves that, too. "Nobody calls me that except my dad, and only because I can't make him stop."
Laughing, he says, "All right. I'm sorry. But you're just so easy to tease. Goodnight, Bumblebee."
This time he can tell that her anger is fake when she says, "Not much better. I'll see you tomorrow. And I'm sorry, for ruining your evening."
He really means it when he says, "I dunno; turned out okay. I like your parents. They seem really close."
With a faraway look in her eyes, Phoebe says, "Yeah. I used to resent it, when I was a kid; the fact that they're so obviously in love. Because I had a childish notion that it meant less love for me. But I see now that I'm lucky, and I get that there is no limit to love."
His heart again beating faster—it's suddenly a valid concern whether it will survive a real date with Phoebe—he suggests, "Let's test that theory."
It's the closest he's come to saying the "L" word to her, so he only releases the breath he's holding when she smiles and says, "Okay. But, for now, you'd better go. If we stay here any longer Dad will turn the sprinklers on."
Somehow finding the strength to release her, he kisses her cheek and promises, "Tomorrow."
Phoebe watches him get in his car and drive away; already missing him as the gates automatically release him to the night. She waves until he's out of sight, and is about to go inside when Taylor says, from right behind her, "I like him."
"Fu—!" Whirling on him and slapping his chest in shock, she shrieks, "Damnit, Uncle Jay! Why would you do that? I nearly had a heart attack."
Laughing, he reaches out a hand to steady her and says, "Sorry, Fi; couldn't resist. 'Bumblebee', huh?"
Blushing—and hoping that's not becoming a trend—Phoebe explains, "Because I'm often clumsy around him. Mostly he calls me 'Bee'."
"And I like his nickname for me; might even add it to my business cards."
"You were lurking in the shadows this whole time?"
Taylor shrugs and says, "It's my job."
Suddenly remembering that she owes another apology, Phoebe says, "I'm very sorry that I tried to sneak out. I won't do that again."
"I'd appreciate it. And don't give Zoe a hard time, okay? She can't keep you safe if you fight her."
"I won't. And Billy will do the right thing. He always does."
"I'm very glad to hear it, because I actually know fifty-one ways to kill him with my bare hands." Then kissing her forehead, Taylor says, "You'd better go in. I'm sure at least one of your parents will want to talk with you."
She knows that questions are inevitable, but jokes, "Maybe I could stay with you and Aunt Gail tonight?"
Taylor takes her shoulders and spins her, then gently pushes her towards the house. "Go on. I need my beauty sleep."
Phoebe giggles and offers the parting shot "Well, that's certainly true," as she heads to the house. She's surprised at who's waiting for her. "Mom? I thought Dad would conduct this interrogation."
Ana pats the spot beside her on the sofa and says, "No interrogation, sweetheart. Despite tonight's lapse in judgment, we still trust you. And I'm sure that, if Billy has captured your heart, he's worthy of it. I just have some advice for you."
Phoebe cautiously sits down as she says, "We already had the sex talk, Mom. I'm still recovering."
"It was no picnic for me, either. But your grandma didn't tell me a damn thing, and I was not going to make that mistake with you. I actually didn't have sex until I was twenty-one."
"Eww. Mom! No specifics, remember? I can deal with this stuff if it's generic."
Ana laughs and says, "Sorry. But it's relevant to what I'm trying to say. The odds are against you and Billy staying together." Phoebe guesses that her sudden anger shows on her face, because her mom quickly adds, "Not trying to put you off; just pointing out the very real fact that people rarely stay with their first love."
"Okay. Why are you pointing it out?"
"Because I want you to know that the odds don't mean a fucking thing." Phoebe has never heard such language from her mother before. So she's staring at her in open-mouthed shock when Ana continues, "Your father is my first love…my only love. It hasn't been easy. I suspect that no relationship is. But the good times have made it worthwhile. If it's working with Billy, don't let anyone break you apart, okay?"
A little confused, Phoebe nevertheless comprehends that this is important information, so she says, "Okay. But, Mom, we haven't even actually been on a date, yet."
"Yeah, I guess that I'm just being careful, but I'm right. Sometimes it's subtle; a word or two about how he's not quite right for you. Others might actively try to break you apart with lies and machinations. It only matters what you think of Billy; no one else, okay?"
"Jeez, Mom; okay. You're freaking me out a little."
Ana smiles and says, "I'm sorry, my darling, but I want to make sure you remember this."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that I'll remember everything about this evening."
Something about her tone has brought that knowing look to her mom's eyes and Ana asks, "Oh? Anything in particular?"
Why is it so hard to discuss this stuff? Old enough to do it should mean old enough to talk about it, right? Taking a deep breath of courage, Phoebe reveals, "We kissed."
Ana smiles and says, "I guessed, from that dreamy look you had on your face when you came in here." Suddenly serious, she asks, "You know, sweetie, that the age of consent is sixteen?"
"God, Mom; you've gone straight from first kiss to having sex? Have you planned my babies, yet? You heard Billy say that he can wait."
Breathing a soft laugh, Ana says, "Sorry, sweetheart, but you'll soon discover that these feelings are powerful enough to sweep aside all logic, so you need to think about this stuff. To that end, I've made an appointment for you with my ob/gyn, Pam Greene; just for a chat. I can be with you, or you can see her alone. After talking to her you can decide if you want to stay with Pam or find your own physician; either way, anything you say will remain between the two of you, unless you wish otherwise. She's really good and easy to talk to."
"You're okay with me having sex?"
"As I said, I'd prefer you wait a while. But, yes; it's just part of growing up." With a grin, Ana says, "Don't ask that question of your father, though. You might make his head explode."
Phoebe laughs and says, "Oh, that's why you're here, instead of him."
Suddenly solemn, Ana reveals, "And that talk was difficult for him. Other than to a therapist, he's not spoken of the incident since it happened…not even to me. I think he still blames himself."
Swallowing at the enormity of it, Phoebe says, "Doesn't sound like his fault. That guy, Winter, was insane, right?"
"Yes. But your father takes his responsibilities very seriously, which means that any harm to his family feels like failure on his part. Plus…it's complicated, and not my secret to share. Dad did something when he was a teenager that he's not proud of, and that has had ongoing consequences in our lives."
"Consequences like that enemy he mentioned? Should I know what he looks like, so I can be prepared?"
"No need, sweetie. He's quite old now, so I doubt we'll hear from him again. Besides, our personal staff know him, and there's facial recognition software here and at both our offices. He's never getting close to you."
Thinking about how someone with a hunting rifle doesn't need to get close, Phoebe says, "I think I'm glad you didn't tell me all this stuff when I was younger."
Ana shrugs and says, "I'd prefer that we never had to tell you. But I'm afraid you've inherited my recklessness."
Phoebe grins and says, "So, if I get into trouble, I can blame you?"
Ana laughs and says, "Except that you're ultimately responsible for your own actions, no matter what your parentage." Again serious, she adds, "Speaking of which, ask your father about his early childhood. He's ready to tell you, I think, and it will help you understand him a little better. A lot of what he does is to keep us from enduring such hardship."
"From before he was adopted?"
"Yes."
She'd always assumed, from the fact that no one talks about it, those years must have been pretty bad. "Okay, I will. Is that it? I'm kind of tired after everything that's happened."
Again smiling, Ana says, "Well, yes; dragging that ladder and mat all the way from the shed to the fence, while avoiding the cameras, must have been exhausting."
"Not funny, Mom." Her heart in her throat—not sure why this apology is the hardest—Phoebe is mortified to realize she's crying as she asks, "Can you forgive me?"
Enveloping Phoebe in her arms, Ana says, "Hey, sweetheart; nothing to forgive. You couldn't have felt like you had a choice without all the information. I was the same about security when I first met your father."
Silently drawing comfort from the embrace for a while, Phoebe then sits back and wipes her tears as she asks, "You broke out, too?"
"In a way. I wouldn't cooperate with the team, and I often fought your father's attempts to keep me safe…still do, occasionally, when he gets out of hand."
Phoebe laughs and feels only a little disloyal when she says, "He really is a control freak, isn't me?"
Ana also laughs and says, "Actually, he's relaxed nowadays; he used to be much worse. We had some fine arguments before you were born. You've mellowed him quite a bit."
"I have?"
"Oh, yes. He's often said that just knowing you're his daughter makes him believe that he must be doing something right, to have been so blessed."
So many images flick through Phoebe's mind in a few seconds; happy snapshots of time spent with her father. People…strangers, speak of him with anything from hushed awe to naked fear. But, to Phoebe, he's simply the guy who's always been there to hold her hand when she needed it. Only then does she realize that, tonight, Billy was that guy. It feels like grief when she muses out loud, "I'm growing up, aren't I? Daddy used to make me promise something every night…I can't remember when he stopped doing that."
Ana nods and says, "To never grow up. I guess he realized that you couldn't keep that promise, though I suspect he's still struggling to accept the truth. It doesn't mean he loves you less, Phoebe. He'd tilt the planet on its axis if you needed it."
"Well that sounds like fun."
With a proud smile, Ana says, "And we're back to reckless." Suddenly standing and helping Phoebe to her feet, she adds, "For now, bed time. You and Dad can tilt the planet tomorrow." Then kissing Phoebe's cheek, she concludes, "Goodnight, sweetie. I like your young man."
"Me, too. So, you're not disappointed in me?"
The earnestness of the question gets Ana's attention. She studies her daughter for an excruciating few seconds and then asks, "Is that why you're intimidated by me? You think that you could disappoint me?"
"Well, yeah; you set such an impossibly high standard that I don't feel like I can ever measure up."
Again enfolding her daughter in her arms, Ana desperately asserts, "Oh, darling, you could never disappoint me. You are absolutely perfect, even in your rebellion. Who else would think of fetching a rubber mat, so they could safely circumvent the electric fence?"
"Except that I wasn't smart enough to know that pressure on the wires would trip the alarm."
"Oh, I was wondering how they found out. I haven't yet had a chance to discuss it with Christian or Jay."
"You always call him 'Christian'?"
Ana ponders the matter for a moment and asks, "Solemn promise?" Only when Phoebe mimes locking her lips and crossing her heart, does she continue, "When I really want to get his attention, I call him Chrissy Boy."
Phoebe's explosion of laughter sounds impossibly loud in the quiet house, so she quickly reins it in and says, "See what I mean? I could never be that brave. I love you, Mom."
"And I love you, Phoebe. Now go to bed."
Phoebe kisses her cheek, stealing/bestowing another quick hug, and says, "Yes, ma'am."
"And don't start that! It's bad enough that Jay still won't use my first name."
Her heart aching with love for her mom, Phoebe says, over her shoulder, "Well I imagine he's just as scared of you as the rest of us are."
She knows it's a lie when Ana growls, "That's it; you're grounded for another month."
So Phoebe is laughing this time as she climbs the stairs to her room. She's not quite ready for bed when Teddy texts her, "You tried to escape from Fort Grey?"
She cannot now recall who came up with the nickname for their fortified home, but it stuck. Phoebe laughs and quickly taps out the reply, "Sore that I've finally done something my big bro hasn't?" She should hate him; he's good at everything, adored by everyone he meets and has set an academic achievement at Lakeside School that has been very hard to follow. But she loves him; always has and probably always will.
"Ha. Ha. If u mean FAIL, then u did it b4 me."
She immediately calls him and accuses, "Bullshit! No way you ever snuck out."
Teddy chuckles and says, "If you say so, sis."
He's the golden child; never did a thing wrong…or so she thought. But he also doesn't lie to her. "Well…when, how?"
"At the time there was a convenient tree limb overhanging one corner, but it got lopped off soon after I used it. You remember Sandy?"
His first girlfriend. "Yeah, of course. You broke out to see her?"
"I broke out to see all of her."
Phoebe would be happy to pretend that her brother has never had, nor will have, sex. "That's disgusting. So, Dad doesn't know? I presume you just talked to him?"
"Yeah, and no, he doesn't know…or at least he's never said anything. Weird about my scar, isn't it? And fucking duplicitous of him to tell me I got it from an accident in a playground."
Only her brother would use "fucking" and "duplicitous" in the same breath. "Yeah. Makes me wonder what else they're keeping from us, though it also confirms that some things I never want to know."
"Like why they have a soundproof bedroom?"
"For one thing, yeah, and thanks for that reminder."
Laughing again, at her outraged tone, he says, "Sorry, sis. So, you have a boyfriend?"
"Oh, very smooth segue. Yes, I have a boyfriend, and yes, he's named after an English poet, but that's hardly his fault."
"I guess not. He's a good guy?"
"The best, Teddy. I feel like I can tell him anything. We talk all the time. Actually, until he asked me out on a date, I didn't know he wanted anything but conversation from me."
"He'd better fucking wait until you're at least sixteen before he makes a move on you."
"Will you relax? I told you he's a good guy." Deciding some payback is in order, Phoebe grins as she adds, "He's a good kisser, too. Maybe I'll be the one to put the moves on him."
"On that note, I'm out of here. First lecture is late tomorrow, but I still need some sleep. Stay safe, okay?"
"You, too. I don't miss you; not even a little."
"Me either; that'd be weird. Night, Fi."
"Night, Teddy."
She's in her pajamas and under the covers, about to open the latest email from Billy, when there's a knock on the door, and she guesses, "Come in, Dad."
Sure enough, it's her father, and his eyes flick to the phone in her hand before he asks, "Billy, or Teddy?"
There's no criticism in his tone, so she replies, "Right now; Billy, but I talked to Teddy…oh, he contacted me. I didn't go against your wishes."
"It's all right, sweetheart. You're getting old enough to decide this stuff for yourself, and Teddy is certainly old enough to tell you if he didn't want to speak with you. I just wanted to let you know that I remembered Thanksgiving is next week, and you'll be grounded. So we'll make that day exempt. Because, if you miss out, my parents will ground me."
Phoebe giggles and says, "Well, we can't have that. Thanks, Dad." Hesitating only a moment—it's been a day for bravery—she then asks, "Can I…may I invite Billy to join us?"
She's certain, from the sudden tension in his body, that it's a step too far. But then he relaxes and says, "I guess so. That's what would happen if you weren't grounded. His parents don't make a big deal of it?"
Phoebe shrugs and says, "I get the impression that they don't make a big deal about anything much, except for his grades."
"Well, so long as it won't offend his parents, he's welcome to join us at Bellevue."
"Thanks, Dad." Apparently, she has yet more courage, and asks, "Are you sick? I mean, are you having heart problems?"
He hesitates, but then reveals, "I will have if I don't take it easy. My blood pressure was a little high last checkup. I'm fine, Peaches, I promise. Please don't worry about me. I intend to be around for a very long time." With a sudden grin, he says, "At least until your kids are teenagers and giving you a hard time."
She'd laugh, but her lack of forethought has caused so many people pain. "Did I apologize to you, yet? I'm losing track."
"Yes, you did. Something else to consider, in case you get that reckless again; if you ever evade Zoe, I'll have to also punish her."
Zoe has been with Phoebe since the first day of school; more a friend than a minder, though she is always professional. "I hadn't thought of that. Regardless, I would never do that to her, because I know she'd be frantic."
"Good girl." Leaning down to kiss her forehead, he then says, "Night, sweetie. It's been a while since I did this, hasn't it?"
Suddenly thinking of something that might make him feel better, Phoebe says, "If you ask for my promise, I'll give it, and I'll mean it, too."
Oh, she hasn't seen that smile all day. She'd endure a lot to see that look of pure happiness on her father's face. He manages to look almost serious when he initiates their ritual. "Promise me something, Peaches?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"Promise me you'll never grow up?"
"I won't, Dad; I promise."
He again presses his lips to her forehead and his voice cracks a little as he says, "Good night, sweet child. Remember that your father loves you very much."
Even when he was away from home on business, these were always the last words he spoke to her every day, and it feels just as good now as it ever did. "I love you too, Daddy."
He stares at her for a moment, and it feels somehow final when he nods, as if to himself, then leaves; gently shutting the door on the way out. Releasing too many emotions in a long, trembling sigh, Phoebe opens Billy's email; the subject is "I have become infinite," and there's a link pasted below. Curious, she clicks on it and is looking at a picture of herself captured…she has no idea when, but she's smiling like she doesn't have a care in the world and her hair is blowing partly across her face. She looks…wild with happiness.
And then she remembers; the day Billy said that he had tickets to her favorite band and asked if she'd like to "accompany" (he'd actually used that word, which had impressed her no end) him, she'd asked why—still oblivious of the fact that her increasingly powerful feelings for him were returned—and he'd said, "Because I like your smile." It had been a field trip: applying mathematics to the real world. It had also been the day when Phoebe realized that her crush liked her back. So, yeah, she'd been pretty happy. He must have surreptitiously snapped the photo, or his phone would have been confiscated for the day. Across the picture are the words, "If a thing loves, it is infinite."
Is it possible to feel too happy? It feels like an enormous pressure inside her chest, as if something is trying to bust out. Smiling, she calls Billy and accuses, "Stalker."
He laughs and says, "Oh, you got it? The words are from my namesake, of course. So, what do you think?"
She knows what he means. "You love me?"
"I think so. I mean, I've never felt like this before, so it's…yeah, I do. I love you."
"I think I love you, too. I go to sleep thinking of you and wake up thinking of you. It's actually embarrassing how much time I spend daydreaming about how your forehead gets lines in it when you're trying to do math."
He laughs again and says, "Yeah, I know what you mean; I literally dream about your smile."
"You dream about me? Just my smile?"
His voice sounds different…deeper, when he says, "No, not just your smile. Are you going to torture me because I said I'll wait?"
Phoebe giggles and says, "I hadn't even thought of that; sounds like fun. Hey, Mom has made an appointment with an ob/gyn, to discuss...well, sex stuff, I guess. Would you come with me?"
"Uh, okay; if you need me to. You know I've had sex, right?"
Why does that hurt so much? "Well, you've never actually said so, but I guessed from the way you talk about it. Was it Rochelle?"
"I'm not about to discuss the who and the when, Bee. I just wanted you to know, partly in the interests of full disclosure, but also so you'll know I have some knowledge."
Objectively, Phoebe can see that it's a good thing he has experience, but it still hurts. Resolving to act worthy of her parents decision to treat her more like an adult, she says, "Thank you. The doctor will want to discuss contraception, stuff like that?"
"I guess so. My parents never did anything like that for me. It was my brother who explained the basics and bought me a pack of condoms when I asked him about it. He's at Stanford. Hopefully, you'll meet him at the end of the year."
"Oh, Dad says Thanksgiving is exempt from my punishment. Would you like to join us at my grandparents'? They've got a place by the lake in Bellevue. It's a big deal; you'd meet my aunts, uncles and cousins…oh, and my grandparents, of course."
"Whoa; slow down. Did you ask your Dad?"
"Of course I did. I'm not actually in the habit of disobeying my parents."
She can practically hear his smile when he tenderly accuses, "Daddy's girl."
It's her favorite game with Billy…well, until she kissed him. "Bookworm."
"Nerd."
"Dork."
"Klutz." When Phoebe suddenly giggles, he asks, "What? You are kind of a klutz."
"No, not that. I was just thinking that about ten minutes ago I promised Dad that I'd never grow up, and now I'm playing this very childish game with you."
"Well, it's a fun game. And I win."
Damn, he's right. "This time."
"You sound tired. I'm gonna try and get away real early, so we can spend the whole day together. Do you think that would be okay with your parents?"
"Uh, I think so. Want me to ask them now?"
"No. The morning will be soon enough. I have chores first thing, anyway." He hesitates only a breath before adding, "I love you, Phoebe Grace."
She's blushing yet again when she finds the courage to reply, "I love you, too. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah; tomorrow. Oh, Bee, why are their photos of your mom like everywhere in your house?"
She giggles at the sudden subject change and says, "Dad, obviously. Every time we go on vacation he adds another to the walls. His office in town is even worse. He insists that he can't be without her for a second." When he's quiet, she asks, "You don't like it?"
"No, I mean, yeah; it's okay…kind of weird seeing an older version of you everywhere I looked. But it's more…I'm wondering if I can manage that here without my parents freaking out."
Smiling, Phoebe teases, "Looks like we're back to 'stalker'."
He laughs and says, "Yeah. Plus, you'd never put a foot inside my room if my wallpaper is smiling photos of you."
"No, I wouldn't." Suddenly nervous of the idea, she asks, "I'd be allowed in your room?"
"I doubt they'd notice if I walked you through the house. But, no, we're not doing that for a while. I'm…I don't know if I could remain a gentleman if you were here with me."
Thrilled at this confirmation of how much he wants her, Phoebe reassures him, "Except that you love me."
She actually hears him sigh and he says, "Yeah. I'm not going to fuck this up. Go to sleep, Bee."
"I don't want to. If I go to sleep, this day has ended. And it's been the best day of my life."
"Tomorrow will be better, I promise."
Where credit's due: "If a thing loves, it is infinite." – William Blake…the 18th century poet, not the fictional character ;-)
Author's note: Want another day of this one? Or shall I move on to the next plot idea?
I could find no confirmation online that head trauma can "break" hair follicles, so that the hair then appears white. But I'm sure I remember a classmate in high school who had a lock of white hair supposedly caused by injury. Now I'm wondering if they lied…or my memory is playing tricks on me; it does that. Anyone know about this one? It's just to satisfy my curiosity.
Author's shameless plug: Posted part one of an original fic, "Stella Lux", on Fiction Press. If you read it, feedback would be appreciated, probably even acted upon; I want to get this right. Thank you, for giving me the courage to attempt it.