Chapter 49
A/N: Dinner time! :) I hope you enjoy it!
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I do not own the characters, that honor goes to the wonderful authors of the FSoG and Crossfire trilogies!
Grace's POV
I've gotten home and called Cary to make sure that he will be home soon. I explained that both boys will be here for dinner but that he and I needed to talk before they got here. He needs to know what is going on. Ana's pregnancy, I smile a bit thinking about having a grandbaby to spoil. But it's a melancholy smile. Bitter and sweet at the same time.
I can't believe that I heard my sons say the things they did in the hospital. I was a little disbelieving of Ana when she first told me that Christian didn't want to be a part of his child's life but to think that Elliot would accuse her of purposefully getting pregnant and sleeping around is beyond belief.
I didn't raise either of my sons to be so hurtful, so cruel. I also didn't ever see them coming to blows. They've never done that to each other. Sure Christian had a bout of rebelliousness in his teen years where there were multiple fights but never with his own brother. We, Carrick and I, taught all of our children that violence wasn't the answer. Christian, God love him, should know this by now. I know he still remembers the pain from the beatings that he received before we were lucky enough to adopt him. He knows that hitting someone is not the answer. I also know that he did it because he was defending and protecting Ana. I heard him clearly say that he loves her that's why its so hard to understand why he's willing to walk away from his responsibility as a father.
I'm upstairs changing into a pair of wide leg off white pants and a green patterned top. I picked out a pair of matching flats from the shoe wall in the closet and put them on the floor by the chaise and am standing picking out jewlery when Cary walks in.
Walking over loosening his tie, he greets me with a kiss. "Hi darling."
"Hi yourself." I smile at him.
We've been so lucky. Married for almost 33 years now. We got married really young. I was just 21, had just finished my undergraduate studies and was entering med school and Cary was 24 and had just finished law school. It has always been my wish that my children would find the kind of love that he and I have been so blessed to have throughout our lives.
As he's changing from his suit he yells out to me, "You said that we needed to discuss the boys? What's going on."
"Oh, Cary. There's so much. I think we may need to have this discussion downstairs where we can both have a drink." I know my voice sounds a bit sorrowful, but I can't help it. I've been trying not to cry since getting in the car to come home.
He instantly pops his head out from the closet, "Why? What's wrong?" eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.
"The boys are fine but..."
He's walking to me now, dressed in a pair of twill pants and pulling a polo tee shirt over his head as he reaches me, "No Gracie. What's going on that you are having a hard time telling me and advocating drinking as a coping mechanism?"
"Put some shoes on Cary. Let's go downstairs and talk about it. The boys will be here in less than thirty minutes and I don't want you blindsided by this." I tell him as I slip the green flats on.
He raises his eyebrow at my choice of shoes. He knows that I rarely wear flats even when I'm working in the hospital. Shaking his head he huffs at me then returns to the closet to grab a pair of loafers and we head out to the library to talk.
As we enter the library, I head straight to the bar and pour two tumblers of scotch. He looks a little disturbed when I hand him his glass. Quirking that eyebrow at me again. I usually never drink anything harder than wine in the evenings so he's more than curious to know what's going on.
"Ok Grace. What's going on?" He sounds so confused.
Sitting on the red leather sofa, Cary takes a seat in one of the brown wing back leather chairs. Staring at me intently, waiting for an answer. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it before I start. I look at the love of my life and wished I didn't have to have this conversation.
"Ana's pregnant. Christian doesn't want to be a father and Elliot is accusing her of sleeping around and getting pregnant on purpose."
There quick and to the point. No elaborations for him to pull apart the way that lawyers do. Even though he probably still will. Hopefully it won't be a full on interrogation. Staring at me, his mouth fell open. I can see him struggling to connect the dots. Yep, interrogation. I'm just going to have to wait for him to start asking. Not that I have a lot of answers to give.
He swallows the entire glass of scotch and gets up and pours another. Turning back to me, "Ok. Start with how do you know Ana's pregnant. How far along is she?"
"She was admitted into the hospital early this afternoon. She'd passed out at work. Christian and her security brought her in. Her blood pressure sky rocketed causing her to black out. Approximately 8 weeks. Give or take a day or two."
"Is is going to be ok? The baby?"
"As of right now they are both fine. She's being monitored to make sure that her blood pressure stays stable."
Rubbing his hand over his chin, Cary just nods then narrows his eyes. "Is there any truth to what Elliot is saying?"
I can't believe that he would think that but I know that he's an attorney and he's trying to figure out all aspects of what I'm saying to him. "I don't think so Cary. I don't think Christian does either. If the argument I overheard and the fight I witnessed were any indication."
"What!?"
Yeah. I didn't think that would go over too well but he was going to have to know about it too. "Evidently Elliot decided that the best time to voice his doubts about Ana was while she was in the hospital. Christian..." shaking my head and continuing, "well he's Christian. He's hot headed. Usually when we, any of us, say something that makes him mad he just leaves. You know that as well as I do Cary. But this time he didn't. He punched Elliot then professed his love for Ana and his...aversion, I guess would be the best word for how he felt, for the baby."
Cary is looking at me like I have two heads. Unbelieving that this is the turn of events that has transpired with the supposedly happy news that we are to be grandparents. Just as he is finishing up his second glass of scotch the door bell rings. Glancing at my watch, it's 6 o'clock.
"Cary, that will be the boys. They both better be here. I didn't give either of them an option. I'm going to check on dinner then meet you all in the great room."
Standing to leave I stop and kiss my husband. Holding him in an embrace for just a minute. Taking the reassurance that I need from him that tonight will be hard but that we will get through this together, just as we have gotten through everything else.
CPOV
Pulling up to my parent's home I spot Elliot's car. Fuck. I don't want to deal with this shit tonight. I don't know why my mother is so adamant about discussing this situation. It's my personal life and that has always been off limits and now somehow it isn't and I'm not sure that I can handle everything that may happen.
I know that I shouldn't beat the shit out of Elliot in my parent's home, but I swear if he says one more negative thing about Anastasia that I'll drag his ass out into the back yard and there will be a repeat of what happened earlier today. I love Ana. I may not like the situation that we find ourselves in, with being apart and her being pregnant, but I'll be damned if anyone is going to accuse her of anything in front of me.
We both get out of our cars at the same time. and head for the door. Neither of us looking at or even acknowledging the other. I'm sure that eventually this will be behind us but too much has happened today for either of us to apologize to the other.
My dad opens the door. Shock across his face when he sees Elliot's bruised face. I just smirk at him when he looks at me. But then he turns and looks at me with bewilderment and a bit of contempt. Yep. Mom and he have been talking.
"Boys." He greets us. Then turns and leads us into the great room. This has always been one of my favorite rooms in the house. I think because the piano sits in the huge arched window overlooking the back yard and through the trees you can see the Sound. The room is decorated warmly with honey hardwood floors, beige walls and marble fireplace, dark wood built-ins and oversized furniture. Yes. This is still my favorite room in the house.
"Your mother is checking on dinner. Either of you want anything to drink?" My father's good manners in play. I know that he's disappointed in both of us. You can see it on his face. I ask for a glass on wine and Elliot requests gin and tonic. My father goes to the bar, brings us both back our drinks and then gets his own.
Fuck. Scotch. Dad never drinks scotch, actually he never really drinks anything heavier than wine unless... unless something is really bothering him. Something that he can't deal well with. Shit. Tonight is going to be harder than I imagined. Mom walks into the room and shit if she doesn't have a glass of scotch too.
"Dinner's ready. Let's eat and then we can discuss the issues that are going on in this family." Then turns on her heel and leaves the room.
Sitting down to dinner we all take our normal seats, Mom at one end, dad at the other, me to dad's left and Elliot to mom's right. Thankfully Mia is not here tonight or I don't think that we would make it though the evening.
There is polite conversation about business, mine and Elliot's, about dad's work. But conspicuously no one has brought up how mom's day at the hospital has been. Guess that's going to be left for the family meeting after dinner. Of course mom asks Elliot how his eye is, trying to make sure that no permanent damage was done. Shit. I didn't hit him that hard.
Making it though that torturous dinner was amazing. My parent's have been giving each other meaningful looks since we sat down and both are giving Elliot and I disapproving looks. Any other time I would make a hasty retreat but I know that isn't possible tonight. My mother won't be deterred from having her say and she has yet to say it.
After each of us decline dessert, mom suggests going back and sitting down and talking 'like adults'. I guess that's my hint not to throw punches. Closing my eyes, trying to center myself for the upcoming onslaught and barrage of questions coming my way I follow my family into the great room.
Dad takes his place by the fireplace, mom hers on the couch. I'm standing next to the piano, hoping to draw some solace from it even though I'm not playing. Elliot takes a seat on the striped chair diagonal from the couch. And then it begins.
"We understand that we are going to be grandparents. First, I'm going to say congratulations, Christian." My dad starts off. And I hear Elliot snort.
"What the fuck Elliot." I growl at him.
"What?" comes from Elliot looking smug as my mother, "Mind your language Christian."
Sheepishly, "sorry mom. What was the snort for Elliot?"
"You know why. How can you be sure." He glares at me.
I can't fucking believe that he's going to keep this shit up! I'm glaring at him and he just fucking continues, "She's moved on awful fast, don't you think."
And before I can even move or respond my father yells, "Elliot, damn it that's enough!"
We all turn to look at my father standing there. He's in full on Senior Founding Partner in the largest most profitable firm in the Pacific Northwest mode. I've only seen him this angry maybe twice in my entire life. The last time was when I dropped out of Harvard.
Squaring his shoulders, setting his glass on the mantle and looking at his eldest son, "You can not go around accusing people of sleeping around when we all know that you have slept with half the women in Seattle!"
Oh Shit. We all know Elliot's a man-whore but its never been brought up especially in front of our mother and here is dad throwing it out there. I am trying to hold back a smug expression when my father turns his attentions to me. "What the hell are you smirking for! Your ex-girlfriend, the first girlfriend you've ever had mind you, is pregnant with your child and you want nothing to do with your own flesh and blood!"
Standing straight from my leaning position on the piano, "I never wanted to be a father, Dad. This child was an accident. I had just gotten to the point that I could admit how I felt about Ana after so many weeks without her then I find out this. It's not something that I want. It's not something I can do."
My father, looking like I surprised him turns and looks at my mother. "Gracie, why don't you take Elliot into the kitchen and talk with him. Christian and I need to have a little chat. Father to father."
I'm surprised that he worded it like that or that he didn't drag my ass into his study. Growing up that's where all the major discussions have always taken place but this time he wants it here in the great room. Fuck. I don't know what to make of that.
My mom just nods her head and goes to leave the room, turning to Elliot, "You are not getting a special invitation. Come, now. You and I will discuss your digressions and correct them.
"Before I leave this room I am going to say something to the both of you. Understand me because I will only say this once," my mother continues, "that child is my grandchild and come hell or high water your father and I will have a relationship with him, or her, from this day forward. I will help Ana prepare, if necessary, for the birth and I will be a grandmother in all respects to that child. You, neither of you," motioning between Elliot and me, "will get in the way of your father's or my relationship regarding that precious baby. I hope you both understand what I am saying."
Then she again turns on her heel and leaves the room. Elliot stands and sheepishly gives dad a look and follows mom out of the room. He knows, we all do, that when she starts with 'you are not getting a special invitation...' that we had better do what she has requested or there will be consequences that no one wants to endure.
My dad looks at me and his eyes say it all. He's hurt, disappointed, angry. I've made him feel this way and as much as we haven't had the best of relationships I never want to make either of my parents feel that way towards me. I feel the need to let him know that I am not a total deadbeat.
"I plan on taking care of the child. Financially. But Ana has already declined my offer to do so."
A spark of respect in his eye turns to indignation quickly, "You should take care of your child financially Christian but why would she decline?"
"She said that she can take care of herself and the baby just fine without my support. Of course she won't have to. I'll do it anyway but that's about all I can offer her at this time."
"Why Christian. We, your mother and I, didn't raise you to shrug off your responsibilities. This is your child as much as it is hers. How can you be so willing to walk away."
There. That's the question that I have been dreading all night. I can't explain to my parents, either of them, all of the fucked up shit in my world and yet my father wants an explanation.
Looking down to compose myself before answering, I'm hit with all the memories of the pimp. The man that made me the way I am; the man that caused my haphephobia. How can I be a father with this paragon of hate that has been within me for most of my life.
"I don't know how to be a father. I can barely admit my feelings for Anastasia at this moment. I don't know how to be a father and I don't want to learn. There's no room in my life, in my world for a child." There that's the best answer I can give him.
My father actually looks like I have slapped him when he responds to me, "Christian. I know that I have been the strict parent when you all were growing up. But was I that bad of a father that you have no model, no frame of reference to use as a go-by while trying to raise your child to the best of your ability?"
Wow. I didn't expect that. Shocked I tell him, "Of course not. You and mom have been wonderful parents. The best. But there's too much in my past for me to be able to move forward with. I don't want to fuck up a kid."
"Christian. You would never mess up your child. The only thing you can do is draw upon your experiences and do the best you can."
"Don't you see. That's just it. My experiences are so much worse than even you can imagine. I've never told you, or mom, what I remember from those years. Of the abuse. Of course you both knew that something happened but I remember it. I live it every fucking night of my life when I go to sleep. I will not subject any child, let alone my own, to that nightmare!"
Agitated that no one seems to understand that I am trying to say, I run my hands through my hair. Elbows on knees, hands in hair and just sit. I don't even know when I moved to the chair Elliot was in earlier but I am. Finally looking at my father because he has yet to say anything more, I see sadness fill his eyes.
"Christian, I'm going to share with you a short story. Take from it what you want but I want you to leave here thinking about what I have to say before anymore rash decisions are made.
"I wouldn't change having you, your sister or your brother in my life ever. I love the three of you more than you can imagine. You three are my children regardless of any adoption. That being said, there's something to be had about having a child of your own. One that shares your blood. It's a legacy that carries on to every generation. I have never gotten to experience that feeling of knowing that a part of me will still be on this earth after I am gone.
"No don't interrupt and don't take this as I am ungrateful that I have you or your brother and sister. I'm not. I don't regret a day of my life with you three.
"Did you know that your mother had three miscarriages before we ever decided to adopt. She was put through the ringer. Wonderfully elated and then severely depressed time and time again. It takes a toll on a person, on a relationship. She wanted to keep trying, not believing the doctors when we were told that she was never going to be able to carry a child to full term. I didn't, I didn't want to continue to put her through that. I didn't want to continue to put myself though that. We separated for a time."
I'm looking at my father with utter confusion. I never knew this. I never knew my mother had gone through this or that my parents had spent any time apart. Their marriage has always been so strong. Something that I have secretly wished to have but know that it will never happen.
He's continuing, "That was the hardest eight months of my life. Being away from your mother. But it made us both realize that our love was stronger than we thought, we decided to work through the depression and loss together and it did nothing but strengthen our marriage. But its still something that I would have wished to have. That biological connection to another person. Being able to look at that child and finding my features mixed in with your mother's. Oh I still got my dream. I wanted three children." He smiles, "I have three of the most amazing children that this world has ever produced," stating with pride, "that said, I would have loved if you all had been mine biologically. That's a type of connection that I'll never have.
"The loss of a child is something that I hope you never have to go through Christian. I wouldn't willingly give up any of you and even though you're not biologically mine, all three of you are mine nonetheless. You Christian will have that connection. Don't throw it away. You will regret that decision in the future. Trust me when I tell you that."
Standing now, "Its been a long night. Go home. Think about what I've said. Call me if you want to talk but don't give up on you child before you give it a chance. We raised you better than that."
He turns and leaves the room, heading toward the kitchen I guess looking for mom and I head to the front door. I need to check on Ana. I know that I can't call. They won't give me any information over the phone. But in person... maybe.
APOV
I've woken from my little nap to a rumbling tummy. I smile and place my hand on my stomach realizing that nugget must be hungry, I didn't get lunch today as I was in the ER and Sawyer had no intentions of leaving my doorway while Christian was in the vicinity.
Ok, first things first I have to use the bathroom. Shit the crutches are on the other side of the room. I really wish that I didn't have another four weeks in this stupid cast. I suppose I could push for the nurse but I've no idea how long it will take for them to get here and I really have to go. So I hop out of the bed onto my good foot. I'm getting pretty good at hopping, and hop my way over to the bathroom door. Just as I am about to open it, it swings open scaring me and I loose my balance and fall. Just before my bum hits the floor, large hands have caught me.
Looking up I see those amazing indigo eyes looking down on me. Throwing my arms around his neck as he pulls me to his hard chest I squeal, "Gideon!"
He holds me tightly to his chest for a minute then leans down and kisses me, "I missed you sweet girl"
