A/N: I forgot to mention it last chapter, but this story finally got to 100 reviews on "Round III." Thanks so much everyone! (And only one more chapter left after this!)

Turning Tables

To Baby

Dr. Fields smiled as Grace entered his office. "How are you doing today, Grace?"

"Awful," the teenager said bluntly. She collapsed onto the couch and pulled her feet up so that she was in a lying position. In the process, she'd also kicked off her shoes – a pair of slippers – to reveal thick slipper socks. "They say walking can promote labor, but my feet are so swollen that I keep getting blisters on my feet and every time I move I feel like my back's breaking."

"I'm sorry to hear that, I wish there was something more I could do for you."

"I'm thirteen days past my due date."

"My wife – ex-wife now – went over her due date when she was pregnant with Jason. It's not uncommon with first pregnancies."

"They said they'll induce me this week if I don't go into labor naturally by Friday, but I don't want that. Do you know what happens when they induce labor, what they do to you?"

"I'm familiar with it."

"They take this thing this – this – this thing that's essentially a crochet hook and stick–" her voice hitched and Grace rolled over so she didn't have to look at Dr. Fields "–they stick it inside you…I don't want that."

"I understand." When Grace remained facing away from him he decided to change tactics and ask, "How are things at home?"

"The same. Why wouldn't they be?"

"I meant with George living with you. How has everyone been adjusting?"

"I don't know," Grace shrugged. "I spend most of my time in my room. But it's not like I hear a bunch of yelling and door slamming, so I assume everyone's getting along."

"You're not feeling very talkative today, are you?"

"Would you?" Grace shot back, finally rolling back to look at him. "If you were as big as Neptune and hurt everywhere and had people telling you they might shove foreign objects into your body in a week, would you be very talkative?"

"I suppose not."

"That's what I thought." Grace turned over again. A few minutes later she began to shake, lightly at first, then a whimper that grew into a sniffle and finally all out crying began to accompany the tremors. "All these things are happening to me and I don't know what to make of any of them. I can't organize it all in my head! Sometimes I find myself snapping and sometimes weepy and sometimes I might even be happy for a while, like at the baby shower, but most of the time I just feel miserable. Most people think it's hormones, and maybe that's part of it, but most of it is that I have all these emotions – these emotions that started long before I knew I was pregnant – and I just don't know what to do with them. Each day that the baby gets closer, and each day that the trial gets closer, they get worse. I just feel like I'm screaming silently all the time."

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As soon as Ben stepped out of the bathroom he found his girlfriend waiting for him on the other side of the door, arms crossed and all.

"Ben," she glared, her hair still dripping at the ends from her shower.

"What?" he asked, hurriedly passing her to get to their bedroom so he could put on his shoes.

Adrian followed him, hot like a rash on his heels. "Why were you showering in the other bathroom?"

Ben cringed at the question, but concealed it by bending over to tie his laces. "Just trying to save time."

"You always shower after me."

"Like I said, I thought it would be nice if we could be ready to go at the same time for once. It's Sunday and I thought we were going to spend some family time together anyway, so I don't see how that is in any way a bad thing."

"You know how the hot water here works. I couldn't get a hot shower because it was being shared between the two bathrooms. We've had a plan that works for the past several months – one which you've been deviating from since Thursday, which I initially thought was to save time until today, when we both had the day off – so what I don't see is why we need to fix something that isn't broken."

Ben lifted his arms. "Right, all right, you're right: we don't need to shower at the same time."

Adrian seemed to deflate a bit, slowly unwinding her arms. "I'm sorry," she said. "I guess I'm just a little irritable because I didn't get the shower I was expecting. Forgive me?"

Ben quickly kissed her. "Of course." He skirted around her. "I'm going to go check on Merce."

Adrian nodded. "I'll just be a few more minutes, I'm almost ready."

But instead of heading to Mercy's room, Ben ducked into the other bathroom and quietly shut the door behind him. The smell of Adrian's jasmine perfume was even more pungent than normal in the water heavy air. He pushed through the invisible perfume haze to sit on the toilet seat where he tore off two sheets of toilet paper and then spun around on the seat and peered over the edge of the tub. After a moment he scrunched up his face and quickly wiped the top of the drain with the toilet paper. When he turned his hand over he saw a wad of long black hairs on the underside of the white square and made a gagging noise as he balled it up and threw it into the trash.

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"I have a surprise for you!" Heather crooned as she descended the stairs into Ricky's basement bedroom.

"Dear god, what now?"

Heather whipped her arm out from behind her back and slapped a black framed photograph onto Ricky's nightstand. Behind the glass was a picture of Heather, Ashley, and Ricky in the Shakurs' living room dressed up as Columbia, Magenta, and Dr. Frank-N-Furter.

Ricky groaned. "I thought we agreed to no pictures?"

"You said no pictures, but Ash and I never agreed to it. That's why I had Margaret take one when you weren't paying attention."

"I guess that officially makes you my weasel of a little sister."

"Oh, please, I'm so much better than a sister." She cannon balled herself onto his bed.

"So much worse, too."

"We should hang that one up right over there," she said, pointing to the framed photograph Shakur took of Ricky posed with Terry Bozzio's handprints on the Rock Walk.

"Not a chance in hell."

Heather chortled at that. "As much fun as the baby shower was, I am kind of jealous that you got to go down to L.A. that weekend. My family never really did the whole family vacations thing. Well, I take that back: we tried to go to Florida once, but not knowing anything about hurricane season, we booked our trip right between Tropical Storm Bonnie and Hurricane Charley."

"Let me guess: you spent most of the time in your hotel?"

"Bingo. And when we tried to go to Disneyworld, I got to right one ride before they shut everything down due to rain."

"That's crap luck."

"Tell me about it." Heather stretched her legs out and hopped off the bed. "Anywho, I've got homework to do."

"But it's not even three hours before it's due!"

Heather childishly stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll see you whenever I smell dinner."

Ricky chuckled as she left. When he was sure she was gone he grabbed his cell phone off his desk and hit one of his speed dial buttons. "Hey, Mom, you remember when you asked me what we should get Heather for Christmas? Well, I think I've got an idea…"

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Grace wobbled her way across the golf course, carrying a white plastic bag in her hands that concealed something a little over a foot tall. She stopped at the pole and white flag that marked the place where she'd scattered her father's ashes and sat down in front of the hole. She opened her plastic bag and pulled out a miniature pine tree with some silver glitter sprinkled across the velvety green branches.

"I know getting the tree was always one of your favorite parts of Christmas," she said while working the planter into the golf hole. "I know it's not the right size – I remember how you and Tom and I always used to outvote Mom to get the biggest one we could find – but I saw it at the store and I thought it seemed more fitting than roses and maybe more durable than a poinsettia at this time of year."

She struggled to find a comfortable sitting position on the golf turf and eventually ended up tucking her legs beneath herself and sitting on her knees. "I miss you so much, you have no idea. I just wish you were here to gather me up in your arms again and make everything go away." Grace tugged a tissue out of her pocket and loudly blew her nose into it. "Tom thinks you must be planning a Christmas party with Jesus right about now. I know Christians shouldn't be selfish, but I can't help it: I'd rather have you here with me instead. Two whole Christmases without you seems impossible, especially this year."

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"That was my mom," Adrian said, closing her phone after reading a text message she'd just received. "She says she wants to spend some time with Mercy on Christmas."

Ben shrugged. "Your mom, your call."

Adrian pushed Mercy's stroller around a clothes rack in the mall. "I guess we can drop her off for a few hours," she mused. "We can do…other things."

Ben smiled. "I like the sound of that."

"What about your dad?"

"Haven't heard from him," Ben answered a little too sharply.

"Don't bite my head off."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just rather not bring him up if I can help it."

"He does love Mercy."

"He's got a funny way of showing it."

Adrian stopped pushing the stroller. "Don't use her as a pawn in your feud."

"I'm not," Ben glared. "But he hasn't asked to see her, so I'm not going to volunteer. Just because things are all rosy with you and Cindy again doesn't mean it has to be for me and my dad."

"Things aren't 'all rosy' with my mom," Adrian corrected. "Otherwise we would've spent Thanksgiving with her. But I had to patch things up somewhat before the baby shower, otherwise it wouldn't have been fair to Grace."

"Speaking of the baby shower, I still can't believe Camille never showed up. It just shows how petty her and my dad are." Ben rolled his eyes.

"About that: I found out they took Grace and her mom out to dinner last week and apologized for not coming to the shower. I guess they gave her a check, but she didn't say for how much."

"That's my dad," Ben said in a singsong voice. "Moneybags Boykewich."

"It's going to a good cause."

"Which reminds me, I need to get the rent check in the mail. Don't want to get kicked out for being delinquent. Oh wait, he already thinks we are!"

"I'm sorry I even brought up the text in the first place," Adrian sighed. "This was supposed to be a nice family shopping trip and now look at us."

"It's just a stressful time of year and everything with our parents is just getting to us." Ben stroked his girlfriend's cheek. "I'm sorry for being so cranky."

"I had my turn this morning so I guess it's only fair."

"What do you say we just start the afternoon clean and go get some peppermint Dippin' Dots? I'm positive I saw a banner for them back that way," Ben said, pointing his long finger. "And you know how Mercy loves her ice cream."

"And you know how I love peppermint," Adrian grinned.

"Two birds," the seventeen-year-old winked.

"Peep, peep." Adrian wheeled Mercy's stroller around. "Come on, boyfriend."

"Right behind you, girlfriend."

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"Amy?" Grace said, confused to find the brunette sitting at her kitchen table.

"Grace, hi." She lifted her hand. "I'm just waiting on my dad. Ashley and I are supposed to be spending the weekend with him since our mom is taking us up to Palm Springs next week to spend Christmas vacation at our grandmother's."

"Yeah, I knew that, but – and no offense – why are you here?"

"He forgot his debit card."

"He's always doing that," Grace laughed.

"Between you and me, I think this time was just an excuse because he's been trying to get us to come over and meet Moose."

"Did you?"

Amy tapped on the table and there was a jangle of metal, followed by Moose's head poking out from underneath it. Amy scrubbed his head. "He's sweet."

"Did Ashley get to meet him?"

"Uhm, no. She insisted on staying in the car."

Grace pulled out a chair across from Amy and sat down. "Still bitter about everything?"

"Pretty much."

"I know the feeling. I was so angry about my mom's relationship with George for a long time."

"I know, but at some point something's gotta give, right? She and my dad used to be so close. But moving in here – and getting the dog she's always wanted – didn't exactly score him any brownie points."

"Understandable." Grace felt Moose lick her leg under the table and scooted her chair around to scratch the dog behind his ears. "So, Palm Springs," she said brightly, changing the subject. "That sounds fun! I guess that means you'll get to see Jimmy, huh?"

"I guess."

"Something wrong?"

Amy shrugged. "We had a pretty big fight a couple months ago."

"So you're not going to see him?"

"No, I am. It wasn't a break up fight, but…it's a little difficult to explain. And kind of personal, too."

"Oh," Grace blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize–"

"It's okay," Amy interjected. "I just feel like it's one of those things we're going to have to work out in person, you know?"

"Gotcha."

"Ames! Got my card, ready to go?" George blurted out as he came into the kitchen. He stopped when he saw Grace. "Oh, am I interrupting something?"

Grace shook her head. "Just girl talk."

Amy smiled thankfully. "I'll see you later, Grace. Good luck with everything." She patted Moose's head. "See you later too, handsome."

Moose barked and licked Amy's hand as she was walking away.

Kathleen came in a few minutes after George and Amy had left, gave Moose a Beggin' Strip, and joined her daughter at the kitchen table. "And where've you been all afternoon?"

"Just out and about. I took the bus."

"Yeah, I noticed you car was still in the garage."

"No use wasting the gas when I have to move my seat so far back that I can't reach the peddles." Grace opened her purse and pulled out a cylindrical pink tube with a key ring on it. "Not without my pepper spray though."

"Well you got home at a good time," Kathleen smiled. "I was thinking of trying out a new Christmas cookie recipe and if we like them, I think I'll make a batch to take down to the homeless shelter on Christmas Eve next week. Trouble is, I can't decide which one sounds best" She claimed three recipe cutouts from one of the kitchen drawers and laid them out in front of Grace.

"Chocolate Peppermint Pinwheel, Holiday Whoopi Pie, and Spicy Mexican Hot Chocolate? I hate to break it to you, but none of these sound like cookies."

"They are, I promise!" Kathleen laughed. "Do any of them sound appealing?"

Grace slid the tip of her tongue over the edges of her front teeth. "I'm kind of leaning towards the Chocolate Peppermint Pinwheel Cookies, if only to see what they actually look like when all is said and done."

"Great!" Kathleen said. "I just bought a whole bunch of candy canes on special, so I can put them to good use."

Grace rubbed her forehead. "I think I'm gonna go lay down though, I'm feeling a little lightheaded. Let me know when the cookies are ready."

"Do you need anything?" Kathleen asked, concerned.

Grace shook her head. "Just some sleep. But thanks, Mom. For everything."

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"I thought you were doing homework."

"What can I say?" Heather shrugged from her seat on the couch. "Short attention span." She was snuggled up under a red fleece blanket, watching the blinking rainbow of lights on the tree. The lights were reflecting off the tinsel as well as the glitter that spelled out her name on the fuzzy white top of a stocking at the end of the fireplace.

"Move over couch hog." Ricky pushed her legs off the cushion so he could sit down, then he grabbed some of the blanket and threw it over his legs.

"Just what I need," Heather smirked before throwing her legs across his lap. "Human ottoman."

"What are doing in here by yourself?"

"I can't be in a room by myself now?"

"Don't make me hold your feet captive under the blanket."

"I don't take kindly to threats, Underwood."

To show that he wasn't making it up, Ricky grabbed Heather by the ankles and held them down while he tickled her bare feet.

Heather began to shriek and wriggle in an attempt to escape but when that proved ineffective she finally lunged forward and shoved her fingers up under Ricky's armpit in sweet revenge, catching him completely off guard.

Ricky let go at once and found himself pushing backwards to the far end of the couch to get away from the redhead's onslaught.

"I told you not to mess with me!"

"Okay, okay! Truce?"

Heather studied him suspiciously before giving a dramatic sigh. "Truce." To show that she meant it, she offered in a small section of her blanket. She rested her head on the arm of the couch, the way she'd been sitting when Ricky walked in on her.

"Something on your mind?"

"I was just thinking that in two Saturdays from now, my baby girl will be waking up for her first Christmas. She'll be ten-months-old. Ten months and nineteen days."

"Maybe you should give the Viceroys a call? Just to say Merry Christmas. Or whatever it is they celebrate, if anything."

"I deleted their numbers from my phone. I didn't want to be tempted to call. Or write."

"Deleting it isn't the same as forgetting it."

Heather sighed. "It's called a closed adoption for a reason."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know, but missing her can't be helped, even when I know she's living a life far better than anything I could have ever given her."

Ricky grabbed Heather's hand and began to pull her over to him until he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.

Heather let her head fall against his. A few minutes went by as they both took in the twinkling tree, then she offered up more of her blanket, so that they each had half.

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Adrian sat on the floor of her and Ben's bedroom with her legs crossed and a large rectangular box in front of her. The box was neatly wrapped in paper with little Santas and Rudolphs smattered across it, except for a single flap that she was anchoring down with a piece of tape. "She's really going to love this."

"She was just over six months her first Christmas," Ben recalled. "It's going to be amazing to see her this time."

"We'll get to see her rip open her presents this year," Adrian beamed. "I can't believe that in less than six months she'll already be two. Two! Can you believe that?"

"I still can't believe you even spoke to me."

"I remember that. 'Surprised' is the word you used amidst the stuttering, if I recall. You should've seen yourself, you were so gawky. And that Adam's apple!"

Ben swept Mercy's gift out of his path and tackled his girlfriend like a lion. "Am I still so gawky?"

Adrian looped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. "Yes."

"You're still just as beautiful."

Adrian gripped the collar of his plaid shirt, pulling his face down to hers. She kissed his mouth, chewing a bit at his lower lip."Do you ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"All the little things that led us to this moment. Right here, right now."

"Like Bunny getting sick and my dad forcing me to fill in and learn the family business?"

"Or me forgetting my birth control."

"And don't forget the condom."

"Wise words," Adrian snickered. "How long had that thing been in your wallet, anyway?"

"Let's not go there."

"Let's," Adrian purred.

Ben wilted into her kiss, but shook his head when she started to unbutton his shirt.

"Since when do you turn down sex?"

"Since I still have homework to do tonight."

"Beeeen," she whined.

"Sorry I can't be Miss Straight A Honor Roll. Sometimes you just have to try and accommodate those of us with average academic talent."

"I could help you study…"

"Study what?" In response to Adrian's pearly white smile, he nodded. "That's what I thought." Ben used the edge of the bed to pull himself up. "I really do have to study-study. That is, if I stand even half a chance at getting into one of the colleges you'll be going to on my own merit." He offered his hand to her and hauled her up.

Adrian pouted a little but ultimately accepted his answer. "All right, but come to bed soon. Just because you pull an all nighter with your homework instead of with me doesn't mean you'll be any smarter for it."

"I'll keep that in mind." Ben kissed her cheek and left the room, closing their bedroom door behind him. He peeked in on his sleeping daughter on his way down the hallway and then made his way over to the table, where his backpack was sitting. He opened it up, pulled out his school binder, and then looked over his shoulder at the hallway. It was still empty, still quiet. He pulled some papers out of his binder and spread them out on the table. Hidden within his school work was an envelope with the electric company logo on it. He flipped it over, revealing it to already be torn open, and pulled out its contents. The electric bill had doubled since the month before.

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"It's a school night. What you doin' up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Grace said, turning to her brother. "I guess you couldn't either?"

Tom shuffled to the kitchen wearing their late father's robe and slippers. "I'm hungry."

"I thought I was too, but I guess I'm not." Grace wore a detached look as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

Tom dropped two pieces of wheat bread into the toaster and rummaged around in the fridge for some butter and preserves while they were toasting.

"Remember how dad used to make us toast with coconut oil instead of butter?"

"You want coconut toast?" Tom asked.

Grace shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just…I don't know."

"Are you okay?" he asked, moving across the kitchen to touch his sister's forehead.

The blonde laughed. "I'm fine, Tom. But thanks for being concerned."

"What 'bout the baby?"

"He's fine too."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why won' he come out?"

"I don't know," Grace whispered. "Maybe he's just shy…or scared." The toaster popped, redirecting Tom's attention. Grace rubbed her belly again. "I know I can relate to that."