Author's note: This was written as part of the Hiatus Survival Challenge at In The After on LJ. My prompt was: Cristina forgets a birthday. Enjoy!
Livin' Part of Life
"Joe's at seven?" Cristina asked as she changed from scrubs to street clothes.
Meredith sighed. "Can't. Derek's got me going over blueprints tonight."
"You still working on that godforsaken house? What's there left to decide? Some wood, some paint and a roof. What else do you need?"
Meredith grinned. "A lot, apparently. Sometimes being an adult sucks."
"Tell me about it."
Meredith shouldered her bag and started to leave. Then she turned. "Hey, don't you have that thing tonight?"
"What thing is that?" Cristina asked, digging for her keys.
"Owen's birthday? Dinner with his mother? You know, that thing?"
Cristina froze and color slowly drained away from her face. Shit, she thought. Tell me I didn't forget Owen's birthday. Please.
Meredith smiled knowingly. "You forgot, didn't you?" When Cristina still didn't respond, Meredith tried again. "Cristina? Earth to Cristina?"
Cristina shook her head to clear it. Okay, calm down, she thought as she willed her pulse rate to slow. So you forgot. Big deal. Worse things have happened. It's just dinner. With Owen. And his mother. Unbidden an image of Mama Burke rose across her vision. Oh my god.
Seeing the panic on her person's face, Meredith dropped her bag and sat on the bench next to Cristina. "Breathe, Cristina. Breathe or you won't make it out of the locker room much less dinner. You want me to page Owen?"
At the sound of his name Cristina snapped back to reality. "No, I'll be fine." She checked her watch. "He's still got an hour in his shift."
Meredith still looked worried. "Are you sure?"
Cristina took a deep breath before replying. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal. Infusing her voice with as much confidence as she could, she said, "I'm fine, Mer. Really." Cristina grabbed her bag and started for the door. Just before opening it, she turned back to Meredith. "What if she doesn't like me?" Cristina asked quietly.
"She will," Meredith replied with a smile. "Remember how much of a wreck I was when Derek's mother was here?" Cristina nodded. "Just be yourself; I'm sure Owen's mom would appreciate that more than some artificial façade."
"Thanks, Mer."
Ten minutes later, Cristina was rifling through her closet trying to find something to wear. This dinner was going to be the death of her. When she agreed to celebrate Owen's birthday with his mother, it seemed so far away; something that she could work toward. Instead, it snuck up on her when she wasn't looking. She thought again of Mama Burke and shuddered. Surely it couldn't be that bad, could it?
Satisfied with her choice of outfit, Cristina headed for the bathroom to shower. The hot water soothed her tense muscles and allowed her to get away from all thought of mothers and sons and missing eyebrows. When the hot water ran out, Cristina felt much better. She resolved to take Meredith's advice and be herself. Strong, opinionated, fiery Cristina. The Cristina that Owen loved. And if his mother didn't like that Cristina then that was her loss.
Cristina was putting the finishing touches on her make up and hair when Owen came home. "Cristina?" he called. "You ready? We're supposed to meet Mom in an hour."
"One minute!" Cristina gave her appearance one final glance before stepping out into the bedroom quietly.
"Cristina, believe me, Mom won't care what you're wearing," came Owen's voice from the living room, "just so long as we're not –"
He stopped abruptly when he saw Cristina in the doorway. His eyes raked her up and down growing hungrier by the second.
"You were saying?" Cristina asked with a laugh.
Realizing he was staring, Owen shook his head. "I was saying," he began and then changed his mind, crossing the space between them in five steps. His lips were on hers the next instant, kissing her into the next life. He backed her into the doorjamb and wove his fingers through her thick curls. Cristina wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
Finally forced to come up for air, they stood there panting harshly, foreheads touching. Cristina recovered first. "I take it you like the dress?"
Owen chuckled. "Let's just say that there's a place reserved for me in hell for thinking what I'm thinking right now."
"Just so you save a place for me," Cristina replied impishly. "We really should go."
"Mom'll get over it," Owen said, nuzzling her ear.
Cristina shivered at his warm breath on her throat. "We can't stand your mother up. It's your birthday."
"So where's my present?" Owen asked as his lips made their way along her jaw.
"I'm not enough?"
Owen straightened and laughed. "You're all the present I'll ever need."
Cristina sighed in mock relief. "Good, because I didn't get you anything."
Owen looked her up and again, taking in the high heels, one shoulder black dress and wild curls. "I wouldn't say that, Dr. Yang."
"Down, boy," Cristina said, placing a warning hand on his chest. "Later, I promise. We have a dinner to get to."
Reluctantly they drove to the restaurant. It was a lot more upscale than Cristina expected. As Owen helped her down from the cab of his truck, Cristina could feel the butterflies gather in her stomach.
Her feelings were written all over her face. "Cristina? You okay?" Owen asked, worried.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Kinda freaked out though." It felt good to say that out loud; the butterflies calmed a bit.
Owen slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her to the entrance. "She gonna love you. Nothing to be afraid of. I've got you."
They entered the restaurant and the hostess led them to their table. A woman in her mid sixties with iron grey hair and Owen's blue eyes leapt up out of her chair at their approach.
"Owen, you made it! I was starting to worry."
"Hi, Mom," Owen said, hugging her tightly. "We got caught in traffic on the way here. Sorry."
"You're here now," Owen's mother said as she pulled away. She turned to Cristina. "And this must be your Cristina. Owen's told me so much about you," she said, extending her hand.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hunt," Cristina replied, shaking the proffered hand.
"You must call me Charlotte."
Cristina smiled. "I'll do that."
The three of them sat down. The waiter poured each of them a glass of wine and departed. Charlotte cleared her throat and picked up her wine glass. "Happy birthday, Owen."
Owen blushed and glanced down at the table. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, Mom. Really."
"Nonsense. It's your first birthday since you got home. Of course we're celebrating. Your father would have insisted."
Cristina reached under the table and squeezed Owen's knee. "Happy birthday," she said raising her own glass. Owen grinned, finally joining in the toast.
Despite Cristina's fears, the next couple of hours passed quickly and pleasantly. Charlotte was wonderful. Inquisitive without being a gossip, warm, funny, and much to Cristina's relief, non-judgy. This was a woman who wanted nothing more than to see her son happy.
By the time they reached the cake, Charlotte was finishing her fifth or sixth embarrassing Owen story of the night. Unwilling to take anymore, Owen excused himself, nodding toward the restroom. "I'll be right back," he said more to Cristina than his mother.
Now what? Cristina wondered. Does the interrogation begin now? They had hardly talked about her at all. Either Owen really had told Charlotte a lot about her or Charlotte was waiting to ambush her. Cristina fervently hoped it was the former. She didn't want the evening ruined by awkward or embarrassing questions. Hoping to avoid talking, Cristina forced another bite of cake into her mouth.
"He looks the happiest I've ever seen him," Charlotte commented as she watched her son walk away.
Cristina swallowed awkwardly and followed Charlotte's gaze. She had no idea how to respond. Fortunately, Charlotte didn't appear to need one. She continued, "He looks at you the same way his father used to look at me. God, how I miss that man."
Cristina didn't like the direction the one sided conversation was going. Owen's parents had been married for thirty years before his father was felled by a heart attack right before Owen shipped out for Iraq. If not for that, this would be a dinner for four instead of three. Cristina was a person who very much thought in terms of the present. The future was more of an abstract concept for her. Forever was not something she was comfortable with. At all. Or at least it had been. Owen was turning her world view inside out and upside down.
Charlotte noticed Cristina's odd expression. She laid a hand over Cristina's. "Listen to me babbling on. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Cristina immediately began to protest. "You didn't –"
"Yes, I did. That's the last thing I wanted." The older woman smiled. "Can you forgive a mother's joy in her son?"
"Of course." Cristina was really beginning to like Charlotte. She was forthright and honest like her son. It was one of the things she loved best about Owen.
"I promise – no interrogation. Just answer me one question."
"What is it?" Cristina asked with a touch of apprehension.
"Do you love him?"
Cristina smiled; that one she had no trouble answering. "Yes, I do. Very much."
Charlotte smiled back. "Then that's all I need to know."
Owen emerged from the restroom, lingering just at the edge of the corridor. He could just see their table from where he stood. He saw his mother and Cristina share a smile and a laugh. He'd known his mother would love Cristina just as much as he did. Having those two equally amazing women in his life was the best birthday present he'd gotten in a long time.
FINIS