How It Happened

Chapter 25

Grace

We decided to make Sunday Brunch a little more low key than we usually would. My parents brought us up that going out for brunch on Sunday was special and formal. We've instilled that in Elliot, but this is a new experience for Christian. So rather than have to address too many 'table manners' issues in a formal dining room, we opted for the family restaurant near my parents' place. It's one of those 'open 24 hours and breakfast any time' places with amazing food!

We meet my parents there and are seated at a couple tables pushed together, right in the middle of the restaurant. In comes my brother, overly joyous as usual, and loudly expresses "Hey! Guess what I brought?" The adults are all a bit leery, as we've heard that question before, but Elliot is beside himself to see. Christian still does not like Dennis at all! He scoots closer to me to avoid getting anywhere near him. "Come on…. Guess!"

Elliot of course takes the bait; "Candy?"

"Bruiser…. You just got a whole bagful last night! No, Buddy….Me!" He throws is hands up and laughs out loud. "Den-nis Trev-El-YAN!" Carrick rolls his eyes, my parents just hang their heads and I see my mother try to hide her chuckle. I have to smile, although I am looking around and see our table has drawn quite a bit of attention. That's Dennis.

"Oh! And these… He hands both Elliot and Christian Detroit Tigers sweatshirts. "Nineteen eighty-four world series champ-i-ons!" He looks around the table and catches a look from our father. "What? Hey, it's only been three seasons… They'll get there again… eventually. And I couldn't get anything here with Seattle Mariners on it. You two can get those for Christmas." As he sits down, he asks, "So, Sis, when's the 'date?' When's this little man my new nephew? When's he officially a Trevelyan?"

"That would be Trevelyan-Grey," Carrick adds with more than a little frustration in his voice. Dennis just rolls his eyes as he helps Elliot into his new sweatshirt. He's swimming in it. If Christian wants to wear his, we'll never find him. "And I will thank you not to give my boys any demonstrations of inappropriate table manners this time, Dennis." My brother looks down at Elliot and winks. "I saw that! Absolutely no blowing bubbles in your chocolate milk…Elliot do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya' Dad…"

"Elliot!" Carrick's firm voice takes us all back a little, but Christian's pulling on his sleeve has me most concerned. Elliot knows exactly why his father is being so stern.

"I mean, yes, sir." My older son knows better. I hate to admit it, but it's my brother's influence. Elliot seems to forget all appropriate behavior when Dennis is around. But Christian is still pulling on his shirt and the expression in his face is concerning me. Thankfully, the waitress arrives and brings our drink order. Both boys get chocolate milk; it's the drink of special occasions. Carrick is in some kind of mood today, so I've decided my job is to keep Daddy from getting too bent out of shape when the bubbles start. It's inevitable.

We place our orders and enjoy each other's company but I'm still on alert for chocolate bubbles. My dad and Dennis are debating the whole 'move to Seattle' topic again. "Come on, Dad. I don't know what you're worried about. You're retired already, you always have a great time when you visit because you can't fish in Michigan the way you can in Washington…" My parents are actually discussing the merits of moving out west. Why do I feel we're Dennis's next target in that area?

They continue their on-gong discussion, and I notice Carrick's not really with us. He's lost somewhere in his own thoughts today. I'm rubbing his leg under the table to try to bring him back to the here and now, but it's not really working. He seems to be avoiding my eyes and I'm not sure why. Just then I hear the unmistakable blurble of chocolate bubbles. Carrick goes red. "Elliot! What did I just tell you?"

Elliot is sitting wide eyed and now panicked. "But…"

"No 'buts' young man, I said no. Grace take that away from him…"

"But Dad! Mom!" He's almost begging as I remove his glass away from him. "It wasn't me!" He points across the table at his younger brother. We all turn and sure enough, Christian has his drink glass in his hands and the evidence of chocolate bubbles is still in it. "Christian did it, see?"

Christian's expression is also surprise and worry. Everyone at the table has stopped talking and we're all looking at him. I'm sure my parents are purposely staying out of whatever's going to happen next. Even Dennis is keeping his comments to himself. "Darling," I start calmly, "it's not polite to blow bubbles in your milk…"

"Take it away from him, Grace," I almost jump at Carrick's stern voice. Noting Christian's look of worry quickly changing to terror, I'm frozen, not sure what to do next. "If we're going to take Elliot's away, we'll take Christian's too." I know my husband is correct, but something is just not feeling right about this… "Grace…"

"Give me a minute, Carry," I whisper to him. "You're a bit over stern about this today… He's frightened. I do not want him to panic." I turn back to Christian and slowly take the glass out of his hands. He's looking at me as I do, but once he realizes what I'm doing, groans loudly and grabs for the glass. "Christian, stop it." He's squealing now and won't let go. "I said stop it!" I somehow manage to get the glass away from him without spilling it, but not without a loud screech accompanied by flailing arms and kicking feet.

"I'm taking him out of here," my husband tells me as he's getting up from the table.

"No. You've already frightened him and your insistence I take his drink away became a tantrum in the next breath. I'll do it." I'm pulling out Christian's chair and taking his hands as I turn to my older son. "Elliot, you may have your drink back." I flash my husband a look telling him I am not happy with his behavior today either! "Christian, you come with me." The screeching has escalated to deeper grunting and he's now got the limp body thing going. The entire restaurant is looking at us, which I could really care less about, but this is not how I envisioned our family brunch playing out.

I'm holding Christian in front of me to keep him moving. I have his left hand in mine, but he's let go of my right and is pulling on his shirt sleeve again. I get him out of the restaurant and thankfully the car is only a few spaces away from the door. I open the car and immediately grab his blanket from the seat. He grabs it tightly but doesn't hide his face. In fact he just looks up at me both thankful and frightened at the same time.

"Sit," I tell him as I point into the car. He's still looking at me as he climbs up onto the seat. I squat down to be eye level with him. "Now, I don't know what has Carrick in a tizzy today, but your daddy said no. No bubbles. If he made a rule for Elliot, it's a rule for Christian too." He hugs the blanket tighter but doesn't look away. "And when we are at a restaurant, you will use your table manners, just like we expect at home. This loud, kicking tantrum issue needs to stop. No more, do you hear me?" It takes a moment, but I get a nod. As I stand again, I reach out to rub his head. I hear his sharp breath and feel him go tense and back away slightly. "You are safe, Christian. We will not hurt you. Come on now." I have to wonder if Carrick is right. Maybe we should just start touching him and let him get over it. But there's something about it that gnaws at my stomach. I really think there's more to all this than we know yet.

Back in the restaurant, Carrick is still tense, especially when he sees the blanket has been brought to the table. I give him a look telling him to leave that one alone. He wants to argue this I can tell, but thankfully, he recognizes it will keep Christian calmer. But there is something picking at him today, because he has to add, "Christian, keep it on your lap and away from the food." I'm a little surprised when he looks at Carrick and nods slowly.

As brunch continues, Elliot has strawberry sauce and whipped cream all over his face, but Christian, who was ordered the exact same breakfast as Elliot, has managed to keep his mess to a bare minimum. The one time he did get food on his face, he immediately wiped it away. I have to admit, as I think back on all the meals we've had with him, aside from the spaghetti sauce incident, he's much more meticulous and seems to prefer keeping himself clean. I'm not sure Elliot even knows he has food on his face, and Christian can't stand it there for a moment.

Dennis is having a blast being the doting uncle. Not only did the boys get new sweatshirts, but he tried to keep the conversation to things they could get excited about, so they didn't get too bored. He cracks himself up and his laughter is infectious. Elliot had no trouble finding things to talk about wit him because Dennis acts as if everything Elliot tells him is amazing! Christian of course didn't say anything, but by the end of breakfast, Dennis wasn't quite as frightening as he had been. Christian even smiled at him at one point. And then, as we were leaving, my brother bought each of them a roll of Life Savers, because they didn't get enough candy last night.

"Ok you two, I gotta' head back home now," he tells them. "You take care of my sister, OK? Bruiser, help her out with this new nephew of mine. You're his big brother now. It's your job to teach him all the important things, like baseball and football…." Elliot gets a high-five and a big hug from his favorite uncle. "And you, Little Dude," he addresses Christian, who immediately holds his blanket close and backs two steps away, not ready for the intimate contact. "Next time I see you, you and I are gonna' sit down and read the paper. I'll read you the sports page, and you can explain all the other important stuff to me. I've got a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more going on in your mind than you're letting on."

Dennis says his good-byes to our parents and Carrick, who has managed to let himself relax and enjoy the visit, finally. Then he turns to me. "I'm so happy I got to be here Grace. I'm really happy for you guys." I get a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. "Christmas? Washington?" I give a non-committal shrug. I haven't even thought about the holiday season. I guess it's all going to hinge on the status of one little copper-haired boy.

Thursday, Nov. 12, 1987

I have the next couple days off and I decide to work on Christian's bedroom. We had it painted on Monday, the furniture has been replaced, and the new mattress arrived just yesterday. I've been collecting the new bedding and decor items so we can get it done all at one time. I make the new bed with an adorable blue plaid comforter and sheet set I had found. I put some hooks on the ceiling and hang several small model airplanes and helicopters. We found three pictures of different airplanes and put them in dark blue frames that I hang on his walls. Carrick installed white shelves and the propeller fan last weekend. We bought him some new toys and books, but don't want to go too over board; Christmas is not that far away. If we get it all now, what would we get him for Christmas? I get the bulk of the job done today, but the room still seems pretty bare to me. However, given what he's had in the past? I'm just hoping he's excited about it.

It's one of those autumn days in Michigan, where the weather was supposed to be warm and beautiful, but it's cloudy and cold. Most of the trees have lost their leaves so there isn't even any color on them to break through the dull gray. It's the kind of day that can give someone seasonal depression. I'm actually feeling it myself; or maybe that's just my excuse. We still have had no word from the court. It's been three and a half weeks since Jackson called us. Even Carrick can't get any information. I would have thought finishing Christian's room would pick me up, but it just seems to be emphasizing the fact that he's not with us yet.

Before I'm able to break down in tears, I hear Elliot come through the front door. Is it that late already? I hear him calling for me and yell down that I'm upstairs. As he comes in the room, I'm hoping my deep breaths are able to hide any evidence of my sadness today.

"Hey! It looks cool in here," he tells me, which manages to perk me up a bit. "Do I get new stuff too?" I remind him Christian has nothing right now and needs a room. Our deal was that Elliot can choose to redecorate his room too, when his birthday comes around again, and we've had this conversation on more than one occasion. "Oh, yeah. But that's not 'til January!" I hold off the rest of his whining with a reminder that he still hasn't had his after-school snack yet.

We head down to the kitchen where I slice up an orange and put out some cheese crackers. I sit with him and have a cup of tea while he's eating. I get the scoop on his day; I guess it was raining at one point because they had to stay inside for recess. Oh boy. Well, at least I'll know why when he's bouncing off the walls later. It's not raining right now, so I decide we should walk down to the park before it gets dark. I need to get out and he definitely needs to move.

I love that we have a park so close by. It's only a couple blocks and he runs and climbs while I chase him around. I was concerned I wouldn't be feeling all that into it when he first asked me to, but now that I've had the chance to move myself, I guess the endorphins are kicking in because I'm really smiling for the first time today. I do love playing with my little boy. As we walk home together, he holds my hand. "Thanks Mom. I like going to the park. It's like a recess but with a mom not kids, and it's at home not at school." I reach around to hug him and kiss his cheek.

As we head in the house, I see Carrick's car in the driveway. That's odd. He usually pulls into the garage. And it's still on… He left his car running? I hear him calling for us so I quicken my steps to get inside. "Carry! We're home… Where are…"

"Gracie! There you are. Where've you been? Hey Elliot!" He picks up our son and gives him a big hug.

"Mom took me to the park 'cause of inside recess today." Carrick gives him a quick questioning look, but immediately replaces it with a big smile.

"Well, good. I'm glad to hear you got to play. Now, go get cleaned up, El. We're going out to dinner. You didn't make anything yet, right Grace?" He leans in and get a quick kiss.

Dinner out? Well thankfully I didn't start anything. "I was redoing Christian's room upstairs. Then Elliot came home and we went to play… Actually, I haven't even thought about dinner. Whats…?"

"Well, go get cleaned up too. The car's running… Nothing fancy, just thinking you might want to get the dirt off your face, Sweetheart." He kisses my nose and I head off to clean up, still not sure what's up with him, but I appreciate he's in a much more positive mood today.

Miraculously, it's only a couple minutes later and I'm cleaner and wearing something more 'dinner out.' Not dressy, but not filthy from my day either. "So Carry, do I get to know where we're going? I'm not complaining, but this is totally unexpected."

"We're meeting our son for dinner!" Our son? Does he mean… "Ben is on his way to meet us, with Christian, right now."

"You mean, Christian's gonna' have dinner with us?" Elliot asks just as surprised as me. "On a school night?"

"You got it, Buddy! And that's not all…" He looks over at me with a joyous grin. "We're on the docket for ten A.M. tomorrow morning!"

I have to just stare at my husband. I couldn't have heard him correctly. There's something else he's left out. There just has to be. Tomorrow? Impossible!

"What's a 'docket' Dad?" Elliot's innocent question allows me a moment to collect myself, and remember to breathe. Carrick explains to Elliot that we are scheduled to go in front of a judge tomorrow at ten in the morning and finalize Christian's adoption.

"Carry? Are you telling me…? Tomorrow? How is that even…? No one told us!"

"Apparently, Jackson has had the date for a little while now, but he's been trying to get it moved up sooner. It was originally December fourth. He didn't want us to have to wait that long. He told me today he's just been calling and calling, figuring either the court would get sick of hearing from him or something else would get cancelled. I'm not sure which it was, but something happened because ten o'clock tomorrow morning…"

"He's ours," I can barely manage more than a whisper. "Do we get him for the night tonight, too? Oh, thank goodness I got the room done today!"

"No, Baby. Not for the night tonight. Ben and Helen felt bad about it, but they wanted the other kids and Christian to have an evening of closure and good-byes. As much as I'd love him home, I can see how that would be hard for the other kids. Maybe even Christian. He has lived with them for the past two months. So we get to have dinner, but they want him back by seven thirty."

Our dinner with the boys and Ben is just wonderful. Ben is a stickler for table manners, which Carrick thoroughly appreciates, and Christian refrains from any bubbles in his chocolate milk this time. The restaurant had a children's menu with pictures, so we let him pick out what he really wanted to eat. Elliot enjoys a cheeseburger with French fries, while Christian orders macaroni and cheese. I think how odd it is to go out to eat and order something that costs almost five dollars, when I could make it at home for around fifty five cents, but this is a special occasion! Let the boy have whatever he wants!

I watch him use his fork and spoon and marvel at how far he's come in a relatively short time. How much he's grown in these past weeks… How much stronger and healthier he is… I tear up at the thought of those injuries he endured and how he still will not allow most touch, but will at least hold our hands and let us kiss his head…

I marvel at Elliot, too. He's talking a mile a minute about whatever, and I think how supportive he's been of Christian from the start, what a great brother he's been and how the two of them will be together in the future… I hope they stay close. We'll probably have our fair share of squabbles and petty skirmishes, but I can't imagine them really having a fight. Then again, they are not yet teenagers. In about eight years, all bets are off.

As we eat, we try to engage him in our conversation. I don't know if he understands what's happening tomorrow. Ben said they talked with him already, but there isn't much of a difference in his behavior toward us. Maybe he just doesn't get it quite yet. We get floppy copper nods and shakes, but his real focus is on his dinner. Elliot is very excited about tomorrow and tries to express this to Christian, but all he gets are questioning expressions. I notice Ben hasn't really gotten involved with the conversation. He's deferred almost everything to us; seating arrangements, Christian's food and drink order… When I try to include him more, he smiles at me and whispers, "He's yours Grace, and this is your family dinner. Just think of me as the chauffer tonight. I'm OK, really. You all just be a family."

As odd as it feels to do so, I take Ben at his word, and allow myself to focus on my family. Carrick rubs my leg under the table and I get a soft kiss on my temple. It's as if nothing can break this magical moment. At least until a small tussle breaks out. "Boys!" I hear Carrick and know his expression without even looking at him. "Behave. We are at the table." As I'm brought back to reality I see two small hands pointing at each other and let out a quiet chuckle. Carrick manages to uncover that Christian apparently took a French fry from Elliot's plate, who in turn reached over to snatch some of his younger brother's garlic bread and, well… It's starting already.

After dinner, the boys get kiddie sundaes which go over quite well. "Mine should be bigger," I hear Elliot demand. "I'm older." Carrick informs him they are the same size and we will not be fighting over who got more hot fudge or nuts. I find myself worrying that Elliot, and even Christian, is going to think every meal should include sweets, since there have been so many lately. Hmmm. We may have to have a sit down discussion about what life is really like at our house. And Elliot may be in for a bit of culture shock when everything smooths out. He's not going to get his way all the time because he's older, and Christian's going to be with us permanently. I wonder if he really understands what that means.

We end a wonderful and relatively uneventful meal and say our good-byes to Ben. It turns out he and Helen will not be in the court room tomorrow, the case worker will be bringing Christian. I'm saddened that I won't be able to say a proper good-bye to Helen. Ben told us they say their good-byes at the house. It keeps things easier when the children have to leave. I guess drawing that out would be hard on the children and them.

I will miss Ben and Helen Collier. They have been amazing. I am so thankful that my son had such a positive foster-care experience. I'm not sure if he'll even remember it. In the grand scheme of things, it's only been a couple months and he's so young…

To Christian, we express our excitement for the following morning. My heart beats a mile a minute knowing this is the last time I will have to let him go... That we will walk out of that court room, holding our son's hand…

Friday, November 13th, 1987

As I sit in the courtroom waiting for our case to be called, I think about today. No one will ever be able to convince me that Friday the thirteenth is unlucky! I have my parents sitting right behind us, my fabulous, supportive and handsome husband on my right, my beautiful new son on my left and my wonderful older son on his left. Elliot insisted he sit next to Christian because as he put it, "That's how big brothers take care of little brothers." Who were we to argue?

Carrick's arm is around my shoulder and he's leaned over and smiled at the boys several times now. I have no idea what cases are before us, I really haven't been paying any attention; I've been a bit preoccupied with my own thoughts. I hear a gavel slam and it brings be back. I look at my watch and note the time; nine fifty. My heart is going a mile a minute. It's not like I actually expect our case to start at exactly ten, but it's just moments away now… Then I start to panic… Am I supposed to say something? Do we have all the paperwork done correctly? Did we bring it!? Elliot's adoption was so different, so much less complicated. I don't know what I'm supposed to do today… Carrick can sense my fears and whispers to me that everything is all set, the court has all the necessary documentation and I can calm down. His soft kiss on my cheek manages to help in that area, but my heart is still racing.

Christian's case worker was waiting with him when we arrived at court. She was carrying a canvas tote with his clothing, and he was wearing his coat. I notice he's got on nicer clothes; a shirt and sweater and tan pants, but he's still wearing tennis shoes. I guess I can't blame Helen and Ben for not having dress shoes for him. When would he ever have needed them? Elliot is dressed almost the same, but with a different style sweater. He was not very excited about having to dress up, but I insisted. Carrick insisted. It is court after all.

My selective hearing sweeps me out of my reverie when I hear "Grey" announced as the next case on the docket. With the pounding my heart is doing inside my ribcage, if I don't pass out it will be a miracle. We move up to stand in front of the judge. Jackson is here as he's Christian's legal representation. I can hear him explaining in all the legal mumble-jumbo about Christian being orphaned, the due diligence to find family, Aaron's signing off of his rights, how we have applied to adopt and why he's petitioning to waive the rest of the waiting period. It almost sounds as if Jackson's words are spoken as a request; that he's asking the court if we could adopt… Can they say no now? I want to turn and ask Carry but I can tell from his body language silence is the best option right now.

Then I feel the judge ask a question I think I'm supposed to answer. What do I say? Thank god Carry speaks for us. I'm just holding Christian's hand. As I look down at him, I see he's holding his blanket tightly and looking at the judge. Does he even know what we're doing here today? I mean really understand what's about to happen? I hear a soft laughter coming from almost everyone around me, not sure why. But it's a joyous laugh… I look at Carrick who is all smiles. Elliot is all smiles… The judge has a big smile on her face too. I finally find myself relaxing enough to smile along with them. This is a joyous day!

"Mr. Grey… Doctor Trevelyan… These are the kinds of cases I love to see come across my bench. As these kinds of cases go, this one is quite remarkable. So, it is my honor to declare Christian Beckett be here by known as Christian Trevelyan-Grey, son of Mr. Carrick Grey and Doctor Grace Trevelyan…." I know she makes additional comments to make it all legal in the court report, but those are the only words that matter to me. I hear the gavel slam once more, and this time, it's music to my ears!