A/N: All done with this semester! Lucky for you, that means for regularly timed updates instead of me trying to squeeze things in between final essays and presentations. (Now I just have to do that scary waiting to find out my grades.) While I'm doing that, here's the next chapter!

Turning Tables

When Opportunity Rocks

Grace rolled over in bed and blearily opened her eyes, feeling as though there was something she was forgetting. Then her eyes snapped up and she sat ramrod in bed, searching for her son. He wasn't in his bassinet and nobody else was in the room. Her heart was galloping as she got up and began to run around barefoot. When she still couldn't find him she darted outside and stopped cold when she got to the porch and found George sitting with Christian on the porch swing.

"You're finally up," George greeted. He stretched his legs and stood. "Breakfast's in the microwave and your mom just got in the shower."

Grace pointed to her son and moved to inspect him, but Christian was sleeping peacefully in the older man's arms. "How – why do you have him out here?" she demanded, breathless.

George blinked. "Well you made a valiant effort to stay up all night with him, but after you fell asleep around six A.M. your mom stayed up to watch him until she went to make breakfast, so she asked me to stay with him instead. I thought he might want a little fresh air and you were still sound asleep, so…"

Grace touched her chest. "It was really upsetting to wake up and find him nowhere to be found the first night I was able to bring him home."

George nodded. "I apologize. I wasn't thinking."

Grace nodded. "Just…leave a note next time, okay?"

"Will do." George gazed lovingly at the little boy. "I always wanted a son. Not that my girls weren't good enough, but…boys and their dads."

The teenager winced.

"I'm sorry," George said again. "Stupid…pay no attention to me, I'm stupid old man."

"You're not stupid," Grace sighed. "You just…sometimes don't think." She opened her arms as George handed her son to her. "How is he?"

"Good. I changed him about an hour ago. He was a little fussy before he fell asleep though. I gave him the binky, but I think he's hungry."

Grace pursed her lips. There was formula in the cupboard, but the nurses at the hospital had insisted that breastfeeding was ideal and they'd tried to teach her how, but she'd been too embarrassed to learn. After she'd come home from the hospital, she'd done her own research and corroborated their claims.

"I could grab you a plate," George said, opening the front door.

"That's fine, I can do it." Grace moved in past him and wandered into the kitchen, filling a plate with some chopped up strawberries, watermelon slices, and a piece of lukewarm French toast. One handedly she squeezed maple syrup onto the French toast, threw a fork on top, and headed back out to her room.

George caught her trying to open the door without free hands and silently assisted Grace, whom thanked him with a nod. He followed her out to the former guest house and once again opened the door as well. He waited for a minute as she looked around the room – having forgot to rearm it in her hasty search for her son – and when she was satisfied he left.

Grace armed the alarm and laid Christian down in Mercy's old bassinet. She watched him – now awake – staring at her with his big ocean colored eyes as she ate her breakfast. She chewed on a strawberry as she realized they were her father's eyes. She'd said it before, but here was a proof: a little piece of her father had come back to her in the form of her son. When she searched Christian's features, she couldn't find any trace of Grant, and for that she thanked the Lord.

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"My mom said she'd watch Mercy tonight if we want to go out. Or stay in. Whatever."

"I thought there were hard and fast rules about helping us out?" Ben snorted.

"I guess she's counting it as a belated Christmas present or something. Or maybe she just feels guilty."

"Guilty?"

Adrian shook her head. "Nothing. Let's just take it while it's being offered, okay?"

Ben nodded. "Fine by me." He came to sit beside Adrian on the couch with his bowl of Lucky Charms. "It's New Year's Eve, what do you want to do?"

"What do people usually do on New Year's Eve?"

"Drink and kiss?"

"Well, I don't drink."

Ben swirled the cereal around his milk and proceeded to set the bowl on the coffee table. He looked at his girlfriend. "So, that leaves only one option. Maybe two. But you haven't really been in the mood lately."

"I know." Adrian nibbled on her cherry Pop-Tart. She smiled unenthusiastically.

"Ever since we had that snafu with the electric bill."

"It was a bit more than a snafu, Ben."

"Okay, but you're a forgiving person."

"Do you know me at all?"

Ben ran his fingers through his girlfriend's hair. "You've got to forgive me sometime. How about we make that our New Year's Resolution? Open and honest communication for the new year? No more secrets."

"Shouldn't that be a given with relationships?"

"It should be, but it's not."

Adrian nodded. "Okay. So, we're starting completely fresh."

"Yes." Ben leaned in, nuzzling Adrian's neck. "Sealed with a kiss?" He moved his mouth towards hers, but Adrian pressed a finger to it.

"Midnight."

Ben pouted.

"That doesn't mean you can't continue doing that nuzzling thing you were just doing…but no hickeys!"

Ben licked his lips and returned to nuzzling Adrian's neck.

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Ricky strode down the hallway to thump on Heather's bedroom door when he stopped in his tracks at the sound of laughing and giggling coming from inside the bedroom. He squinted his eyes and leaned towards the closed door, immediately thinking that Heather might be on the phone or webcam with Ashley, but to his surprise he heard the voice of someone else who was distinctly not Ashley Juergens. He listened for a minute, feeling only vaguely guilty for doing so, then he turned and headed downstairs.

Margaret was cubing pineapple when her son walked in. She looked at him and smiled as she used the edge of the knife to slide the chunks of pineapple she'd already cut up to the corner of her cutting board. "Going by the look on your face, you have a question."

Ricky made a thumbs up, not to show that she was correct in her deduction, but instead pointing towards the ceiling. "We have company?"

"A friend from school," Margaret said absently, resuming her chopping.

"Who?"

"Lisa, if I recall."

Ricky snorted. If Margaret had approved friends coming over, she damn well knew their names and their parents' names. He harrumphed. "Nobody mentioned that to me."

"I didn't realize Heather had to run her guests by you."

Ricky snorted. "Well since you and dad are going to that office party whatever," he said, motioning to the fruit salad Margaret was making for salad party, "I just figured Heather and I would be celebrating the New Year together."

"You shouldn't have assumed."

"Who is this 'Lisa,' anyway? Heather hasn't mentioned her before."

Margaret stopped chopping to look at him, as if gauging how much she should divulge. "I think she's on the Grant girls' basketball team. She seems like a nice enough young lady."

Ricky tried to envision this year's basketball team, but he was coming up empty. Even though he was still in band, he didn't catalog all the female athletes like he used to. The name seemed to ping a bell somewhere in his head, but it was a common name, so that wasn't surprising.

"You don't need to be jealous," Margaret said knowingly.

"Who's jealous?" Ricky shot back. But even as he said it, he knew it was true. Ashley and Heather were his two best friends, but the former wasn't coming back to town until Sunday and he's taken for granted that Heather would hang out with him. He wasn't even sure when she had time to find herself a friend on the basketball team, she was always hanging out with him and Ashley at and after school. Except, of course, when he went to the batting cages or had band practice.

"Welcome to sharing your siblings with the other people in their lives," Margaret said. Her voice was teasing, but there was a serious undertone running through her words.

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"Hey!" Grace said, motioning her best friend inside the former guest house. "Where's Ben?"

"Dropping Mercy off at my mom's. We're getting some quality time tonight."

"Finally over the electric bill?"

"By tonight, hopefully. How about you?" Adrian noted a half empty baby bottle on the bed and a can of formula on the dresser. She walked over to her daughter's former bassinet and peered in at the sleeping blonde.

"Well, it's only been one night so far."

"Get any sleep?"

"Surprisingly, yeah. I didn't mean to, but I did."

"Good. You're going to need it, because it won't always be that way. In fact, it probably won't be that way most of the time. How's the healing?"

Grace grunted. "I'm still mostly wearing dresses and nightgowns and loose skirts all the time because of the cesarean. You have no idea."

"I'm thankful I had a vaginal birth," Adrian nodded. "How long 'til you're back to school?"

"Because of Martin Luther King Day, not until the eighteenth."

Adrian took a seat on her friend's bed, itching to ask a question, but not wanting to upset Grace.

"What? I can tell something just crossed your mind." Grace climbed up beside her and moved the bed to the foot of the bed.

"It's just…I thought the trial started on the tenth? I don't ask to upset you, but I was going to make arrangement to try and be there. Well, that was before my job, but–"

"That's what it's been scheduled for, but D.A. Enriquez is trying to get it pushed back a week, maybe two, because of my recovery. I didn't want to do that, but I think it's best for me." She looked toward the bassinet. "And for him."

Adrian nodded. "I'm so happy to see you doing better."

"There's been such a weight off my chest ever since Christmas. God really answered my prayers."

Adrian smirked. "I don't think you and I are ever going to see eye-to-eye on that, but nonetheless, I'm glad." She hopped off the bed and blew Christian a kiss. "I have to fly though. I just wanted to drop by on my way to the store and see you."

"What do you need at the store?"

"Oh," Adrian waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing I can borrow from you, trust me."

Grace shook her head at her friend's tone. "Never mind."

"Exactly," the Latina winked. "See you, Grace."

"Bye, Adrian."

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"You be good for Lita, okay?" Ben said, looking at his daughter who was face-level with him in his arms.

Mercy plastered a slobbery kiss to his cheek in response.

"That's enough," Cindy chuckled before taking her favorite handful into her arms. "We're going to have a lot of fun together tonight, aren't we?"

"Div'r! Div'r!" Mercy squealed.

"Really?" Ben gawked. "Now she's trying to say 'fun' in Spanish too?"

"I'm a good teacher," Cindy shrugged. "If only I wasn't a flight attendant, maybe I'd be a teacher. I hear the pay is terrible though."

Ben wiped his cheek with his sleeve. "Thanks, Cindy."

"Don't thank me, just go make sure my daughter's happy. This isn't going to become a thing."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"And don't call me 'ma'am!'"

Ben saluted her and ducked out of the condo with a spring in his step. His phone began to ring as he got out to his car. "Henry, can't talk right now I'm–"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to come over."

"You're not spending New Year's with Alice?"

"You haven't listened to any of my voicemails, have you?"

"No time."

"She's out of town with her parents. I figured since you and Adrian have been–"

"That's not a problem anymore," Ben said giddily. He revved his engine. "We've got plans, sorry man."

"Ugh," Henry groaned.

"Hey, no offense, but you were getting some on Christmas. We're just having a reversal of fortunes. Now I gotta go, I have to put a little surprise together before Adrian gets home. Home," he chuckled. "I love saying that."

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Ricky was in the laundry room when he heard a thunder of footsteps come down the stairs and he quickly slipped out in time to see Heather and another teenage girl, maybe five foot four, clattering down the stairs with the front door in sight. He found the latter fairly attractive, with ebony hair hanging halfway down her torso and caramel-smooth skin the color of gingersnap cookies. But neither seemed to take notice of him, so as Heather opened the door, he hollered to her.

Heather promptly turned around and shot him a quick glare. "I'm on my way out, Underwood. What's the problem?"

"Where are you going?"

Heather scowled, letting him know that she didn't appreciate his tone. "Lisa and I were invited to a New Year's Eve party. I already cleared it with Margaret and Shakur." She nudged Lisa. "Gotta go, don't wanna miss the New Year!"

Ricky elbowed the wall after they left and returned to the laundry room, where the washing machine was half full of wet whites. His parents had already left for the night and now he was all alone in the house. Annoyed, he slammed the washer lid down and ferried his phone out of his pocket. He hit the speed dial he had for Ashley and pressed the phone to his ear. It rang and rang and rang some more.

"I'm out having a life," Ashley's voicemail recording answered. "You can leave me a message or go out and have your own."

Ricky grunted and hung up as the voicemail beeped.

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Grace sat on her bed with Christian in her arms, trying in frustration to nurse him, but each time she tried, she'd pull him away. Finally she jumped at the sound of a knock on her door, set Christian into his bassinet, and pulled her shirt down before answering. She knew it was George by the sound of his knock, though she was slightly surprised to see her mother standing beside him.

George dressed in slacks and a burgundy tie and Kathleen in a burgundy dress that cut off just above the knee and hugged all her right curves with carefully placed pleating up from just below the bust right down to the hem. The dress was sleeveless, though triangular strips of fabric came up over her shoulders and around her neck, almost giving the illusion that she was wearing a mini jacket.

Grace blinked. "You two look nice."

Kathleen grinned and patted her boyfriend's arm. "We're going to the New Year's Eve party at the church. We were wondering if you and Christian wanted with come too."

Grace stared down at herself, still wearing a loose fitting nightgown and slippers. Her hair was a mess. "I'm not really dressed for it," she muttered.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Kathleen assured her.

"Is Tom going?"

"He's getting dressed right now," George said.

Grace looked over at Christian's bassinet, realizing that if she didn't go then she and Christian would be left home alone. "Sure!" she squeaked. "I just need to get dressed."

Kathleen and George shared a look, to which the latter gave a nod. Kathleen reached up to kiss George. "We'll be in shortly," she said as he walked back to the main house.

"You two are getting very good at that nonverbal communication," she said as her mother slipped into the door.

"You should've seen us in high school," Kathleen laughed. "Webster's had nothing on us." She waited for Grace to lock and arm the door. "I was thinking I could do your hair," she said as Grace meandered over to the closet to find something suitable to wear, yet comfortable enough that it wouldn't irritate her still healing caesarian wounds.

Grace couldn't remember the last time her mother had done her hair for her. It was a sporadic thing, on and off for years. She used to do it all the time when Grace was little, until a few months after Grace got her ears pierced. There had been an incident where the brush caught on the earring and without knowing, Kathleen had pulled it down, ripping the lobe. There was still a tiny scar there that only someone close enough and looking could see, but her earrings still didn't hang quite evenly. The teenager absently touched her earlobes, which did not currently have earrings in them, and nodded. "I'd like that."

Kathleen disappeared into the bathroom to find a brush.

Grace eyed her closet again, her hand moving in and out of the clothing until it landed on a turquoise, purple, and indigo floral patterned sundress from the eighties. It had been her mother's and it was ankle length, but the fabric was fluttering and wouldn't feel constricting around her belly, so she laid it onto the bed.

"That old thing?" Kathleen cringed when she emerged from the bathroom, brush in hand.

"It's not that bad."

"Maybe if it was a few feet shorter."

"You want me to show off my legs?"

"No! For me, back when it was mine, it might not have been so bad if it was a few feet shorter."

"Maybe you would've liked it if your mom hadn't been so strict?"

Kathleen gazed at the dress and sighed. "I did always like the colors…but the style, not so much."

Grace selected a pair of purple flats with little bows on the toes. "I'll be right out," she said, snatching up the hanger the dress was on and disappearing into the bathroom.

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The microwave didn't have time to beep because Ben pressed the button to end the heating cycle so he wouldn't have to hear it. When the door popped open, the waft of hot chocolate hit him square in the face and he wanted to linger there sniffing it, but he knew he didn't have a lot of time, so he pulled out his mixing bowl of melted milk chocolate and set it on the counter beside the Driscoll strawberries he'd rinsed off and were draining in the plastic containers he'd purchased them in. He grabbed a strawberry, dabbed any excess water off with a napkin, and held it by the leaves as he swirled it into the melted chocolate and then set it to rest on a cookie sheet covered in a strip of wax paper. He repeated the process until the tray was half covered in milk chocolate covered strawberries.

Next, he dumped a bag of white chocolate chips into another mixing bowl and set it to melt in the microwave, his face pressed to the window while it turned. He paused it midway through, gave it a stir, and resumed the melting until the end when he again stopped the timer before it could beep. As with the milk chocolate, he swirled the strawberries through the white chocolate and set them to harden until the other half of the cookie sheet was covered. He still had leftover strawberries and both types of melted chocolate leftover when he was done, so he put the leftover chocolate into the microwave and leftover strawberries into the fridge, then he carried the tray down the hall to the bedroom, where he balanced it over the crack where their pillows touched. A couple of champagne glasses and a bottle of sparkling cider were already on the bed and sprinkled around them were red rose petals.

From down the hall he heard the front door open and he scampered out to meet his girlfriend, who had a shopping bag in her hand, but not the typical kind of grocery bag, it was a powder blue bag with cursive words in such a swirly type that Ben couldn't make out what they said. He could, however, make an educated guess on what was inside the bag. "Adrian?" he asked, his eyes focused on the bag.

Adrian reached into the bag and pulled out a small bottle. She squeezed a drop of its contents onto her finger and then moved to her boyfriend and touched her finger to the tip of his nose.

Ben shuddered as he felt his skin tingle with whatever Adrian had put on her finger. He tried to reach for the bag, but she pulled it away, laughing. "That's not the only thing you bought, did you?"

Adrian shook her head. "You'll find out what the other is soon enough."

Ben crossed his arms. "And what about spending excess money?"

"I thought you might bring that up," Adrian nodded. "So here it is: now we've both paid for things that we really couldn't afford. I propose we just make the most of it and let them be the last things we pay for without consulting one another."

Ben glanced excitedly at the bag. "I have a feeling your purchase is going to be a hell of a lot better than mine."

Adrian grinned and glanced at her watch. "It's just about nine. You wanna see what else is in here?" She held up the bag tauntingly.

Ben nodded, his nose still tingling.

Adrian trailed down the hallway. "Good, because I might need a little help…"

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Ricky's cell rang once and he darted to pick it up before it could ring again. It was Ashley's ring. "Hey!"

"I told you a few weeks ago that my mom had to cut the minutes back on our family plan to save money, so tell me what you want and make it quick!"

"I forgot," Ricky sighed. "Are you near your laptop?"

"No, we're having a movie night because Mimsy wanted to have an eighties' movie marathon and I was bored out of my mind so I said I was going to the bathroom and now I'm hiding in the shower and hoping to Buddha that nobody walks by and hears me on my phone."

"You could've texted. Or did she cut that back too?"

"No, but texting takes too long. Ricky, seriously, what's going on?"

"Nothing. Heather's out, my parents are out…and I was bored."

"I'm glad I'm your last resort."

"It's not like that—"

"You're way too easy, you know that?" she laughed. "Wait, you're not out with Heather? Why?"

"She had plans with someone else."

"Interesting."

"Not as much as you'd think," Ricky grumbled. "Anyway, look, I don't want to rack up your mom's minutes. Sorry I called in the first place. Enjoy the movies."

"Ricky–"

He hung up and threw his phone across the couch. Ricky stretched out and turned on the television, not interested in watching the ball drop in Time Square. Instead he turned to the Food Network and found a Chopped marathon playing. He watched it until a commercial came on, then he shut it off, because Chopped was more Heather's thing than his. Then he wandered down to his basement bedroom and sat down at his drum set. He picked up the drumsticks, tapped each drum, crossed the sticks, alternated them in his hands if though he was weighing them, and then he began to thrum out something that made the blood in his veins vibrate.

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"Grace!" Reverend Crisp greeted. "I'm so glad you could join us this fine evening. And I see you brought our newest member of the congregation along as well. Wonderful!"

Grace nodded. "He's not sleeping through the night, otherwise I probably wouldn't have brought him."

"All in time," the Reverend nodded. He picked up a star themed paper plate at the refreshments table and dropped a few cookies onto it. "You know, your mother mentioned to me last week that you were thinking of looking into a job."

"Well, obviously," Grace said, her gray orbs shifting to her son.

"I've been thinking about that," he said in between nibbles on his cookies. "And I was wondering: might you be interested in a position in the church daycare?"

Grace felt her mouth hold in the shape of an O. "Are you serious?"

The Reverend raised his finger warningly. "We have a member who is moving next month and we'll have a job opening then," he said. "But, I'm afraid it's only part time, and it doesn't offer any benefits."

"Money is a benefit," Grace said.

"Quite true," he agreed. "I like your attitude, young lady."

Grace smiled. "What kind of hours?"

"I'd have to check with Mrs. Ryan, who runs the daycare, but I'm sure we can work something out around your school schedule. Education always comes first!" He wiped the crumbs from his chin and polished off the cookies with a plastic cup of lemonade. "But we can talk about that when the time comes. Right now, you just work on healing."

Grace watched the Reverend walk away. "Healing," she repeated. That was something she needed to do in so many ways. She promptly sat down on a nearby pew to rest her legs. Jobs usually didn't just present themselves like that, so she knew that it was a blessing, even if it was only a part time position.

"Are you all right?" Kathleen asked, coming to take a seat next to her daughter. "You want me to take him for a while?"

Grace shook her head. "No, I'm – I'm fine." She laughed. "Reverend Crisp just offered me a job."

"Really?"

"Yeah," the teenager nodded enthusiastically. "Not right away, but still. Finally. Some things are finally going right."

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Adrian bit into the white chocolate strawberry Ben was holding over her mouth at the same time Ben bit into the milk chocolate strawberry she was holding over his mouth. Their arms were crossed as they laid on their bed, the tray of strawberries half eaten, a considerable amount of the oil she'd brought home earlier gone from the opened bottle on the nightstand, and a few Italian condom wrappers on the floor beside the bed.

"Just a few more – minutes – until – midnight," Ben whispered, his voice clipped between licking and nipping at the strawberry.

Adrian finished the strawberry Ben was holding for her and peeled the leaves from between his fingers, flicking them onto the tray corner where a small pile of leaves were accumulating. She rolled over, resting her head on his skinny bare chest.

Ben fingered the red satin bow on the black lace baby doll style lingerie nighty his girlfriend was wearing. "This was a terrible thing to pay for," he mock scolded. "Absolutely no need for it at all."

"Then why don't you take it off me?" Adrian teased as Ben finished her strawberry.

"Maybe I will." He eyed the clock, only a minute left until the new year.

Adrian nuzzled Ben's chest. "Can we just stay like this? Exactly like this."

Ben ran his fingers through Adrian's onyx strands. "Whatever you want."

"I want this. I want you."

The clock flashed to 12:00 A.M.

Ben reached to cup Adrian's face, but she already had her cheek pressed into his palm. Their lips melt, white chocolate meeting milk chocolate.