They left Richard to his "nifty" swag bags not too long after, continuing along the gauntlet of booths and vendors. Zola and Sofia had some sort of competition going for who could find the strangest free stuff, which meant Meredith got very good at scanning the tables, but there wasn't much on display that was inappropriate for doctors' children raised in sex-positive households. She swiped her card along a dozen more Square readers than she'd planned, especially when so much of what her kids pointed out was "for you, Mom." Even though all three pairs of eyes went to the garish first, they seemed to understand that she preferred the understated. At the booth where she bought a rainbow-colored stethoscope cover, she noticed Zola slipping a business card in her pocket. She wouldn't be surprised if she found a bi-pride printed scrub cap under the tree at Christmas.
For herself, she bought a tote with a Labyrinth poster printed on the side. She caught Jo raising her eyebrows at her while she transferred their other acquisitions into it. "Would you believe every L.L. Bean bag I have was a gift for either my mother or myself? They don't wear out. You think, I'll use the dumb, preppy bag until it gets torn up. It never does. But everyone whose seen you use it thinks they know what to get you for your birthday. It's a curse. An East Coast, WASPy curse."
"That…actually that makes a ton of sense."
Not too long after that, she was helping Sofia purchase a they/them lapel pin for Callie when she noticed Jo linger over the jewelry case it'd come from, surveying dozens of words presented in loopy cursive. They really needed to provide more resources about gender identity at Grey Sloan, aimed to benefit staff as well as patients. She'd contact Kai and Callie, and see what they recommended. Enacting kinds of cultural changes was something she hadn't considered much when they'd bought the hospital, but now, as one of the few of the original co-owners employed there, she realized how much it mattered to her. That hospital, the one that had been t'ho'pital to her as a child, "the hospital;" that hospital which had once been Seattle Grace, and now honored her sister's name; that hospital had been her place for thirty of her forty-five years, but it wasn't always a safe place. She wanted that to change.
After face-painting and lunch made up of selections from various food-trucks, they hovered at the edge of the festival stage, catching the last half of the drag show that preceded to the Latinx Showcase that had been Sofia's only programming request for the day.
"Funny, they're kids," Bailey said, indicating the group dancing at the end of the runway. "Mom! See? They're kids!" He was wrapping the bright-colored lei he'd acquired around his hand, the way he did with the hem of his T-shirts when he got excited about something.
If she'd had to predict which of her children would be the most interested in something involving glitter and tulle...well, it would've been Zola six years earlier, but presently Ellis's leotards were the man source of sparkle in the house. She was half-asleep on Jo's shoulder, though, and Bailey had the penchant for art. Not long ago when Maggie sat Zola down to show her how to match tones with her foundation, he'd brushed a swatch of every powder onto his arm, too. She'd thought it was the same interest in their different skin colors that he'd shown when he been little and painting them up with markers. Could there be more to it?
She put a hand on his shoulder. "Cool, huh?"
He looked up at her, smiling, but with some uncertainy in his eyes. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned against her and nodded at the small amount of commentary she could offer. At the tail end of the show, he started making hesitant observations of his own.
"They had Drag Queen story hour at the library in San Diego, remember? Remember Zo?"
"Kind of," Zola said, scrunching her eyebrows together. Should I bring that year up more? She'd been reluctant to bring it up around Maggie and Amelia, knowing how much she'd hurt them, but it'd helped her protect her eldest two from the type of trauma that echoed through her first year in Boston. It'd been vital for her relationship with them, and to Ellis—both Ellises. She wanted them to remember those long afternoons at the beach that helped them learn how to be a family without Derek. The beach that'd been so healing that she was pretty sure she'd dreamed about it in the ICU with Covid.
"They did," Bailey reiterated. "They were so hilarious. Mean in a nice way."
"Like Mom."
Behind Meredith, Jo snickered. With four kids watching her, one of which wasn't hers, she couldn't flip the other woman off, but oh how she wanted to.
"You know, I went to more than a few drag shows and balls in Boston," she told him. Several of the men who frequented the coffeeshop across the street from their building had closets full of gowns. They'd altered her dresses for her mother's events, and equally skillfully tailored her suit. "But I haven't been in a long time. Would that be something you'd want to check out after you get back from Grandma Shepherd's?"
He nodded, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm. At least no one on that side of the family would mind the amount of product stashed in his luggage.
"That'll be fun, Bay," Zola said, and then she took his hand, holding it until they broke apart to cheer for the end of the show. Let them always love each other this way.
Ellis got a second wind as the music for the next showcase started, and Jo put her down to dance with Sofia. She picked the beat up immediately, and added little flairs to every step. When Sofia held her arm out to twirl her, Ellis brought a hand up under her face. She'd been paying attention to the drag show after all, and adopted—adapted—voguing faster than Madonna.
"There's going to be a Grey Method in an entirely different field one day," Jo observed.
"Maybe." Meredith didn't want to push any of her kids too hard, but that also meant she also didn't know when to push. She didn't think her job left time for her to become a dance momster, but what if latent tendencies appeared once she committed to simply being the mom of a dancer.
Ellis giggle rang out as if in answer. She and Sofia were attempting an arm slide, and getting tangled up due to their difference in height. Not a bad reminder that the decision wasn'tMeredith's.
At the end of the Latinx showcase, she was starting to think about wending the way to the car. The next day would be a whirlwind. They were hosting a brunch for hospital staff who wanted to say hi to Sofia. Not overwhelming her with people she didn't remember would be a balancing act. By the time that was over, she'd be "overseeing" the packing for New York, and between the kids' excitement and her own stress, she doubted she'd get much sleep. Too bad she couldn't pop a Xanax and sleep through the time her oldest two were flying, the way she did while on a by plane herself. It'd gotten easier to fly over the years, but it would never be as simple as it had the day she climbed on that charter plane.
Going around the crowd was the best way to get out of it, so she reviewed the hand-holding instructions and led their little train of people along the path she'd mentally mapped out. They ended up on the edge of a group surrounding one of the young Latinx dance troupes.
"Mommy, their costumes are so pretty." Ellis let go of her hand to point, as entranced by the sequins as she'd been watching them flicker in the stage-lights. "Like firecrackers."
"Like you." Bailey lifted his arm to twirl her—once, twice, three times. The tutu she'd insisted on wearing over her overalls swished, and then she stopped on a dime, holding her hand back up to Meredith. "Duh da," he said, in his best MC voice. "Ladies, gentlemen, and other friends, that was our in-house prima donna, the creative, the graceful, the silliest sister, Ellis Grey Shep-herd."
Sofia and Zola immediately made noises to imitate a cheering arena crowd. Meredith's focus was on keeping her arm taut to add a little bit of extra lift to Ellis's bouncing steps when one of the adults ushering the young dancers along turned to them.
"Excuse me," she said. "Did you say Ellis….Grey," she finished, breathing out with the word, her brown eyes locked on Meredith.
"Layla. Holy—oh my god, Lay!"
"Meredith! I'm so glad I heard right." Layla held her arms and Meredith hugged her like she hadn't honed her skills at not being a hugger with anyone but those closest to her. She could hear Ellis whispering to Zola, probably confirming that Mommy had enough time to say no—it was possible they'd overdone that lesson. Thanks, Covid.
"Still the best hugs in Seattle," she offered once they'd separated. If anything, they'd gotten better. Layla's laugh hadn't changed very much either. Her hair was cut a little shorter, which made it fall alluringly—Meredith could see—down her forehead into her eyes.
"What you mean is you haven't changed at all, and I could squish you like a bug," Layla said. "But I'll take the compliment. Shit, it's good to see you. Sorry, small ones."
"That's okay. Are you my mom's girlfriend?"
Meredith couldn't help the surprise she turned on Bailey. When, exactly, did he think she'd gained a girlfriend? But for all that she'd been spending more time with them, she'd also been traveling a lot—and it wasn't like the kids had met Nathan when that was going on. Maybe she could see how Bailey had gotten there.
"Don't be du—silly, Bayblade," Zola said, making up for the slip with the old nickname. "She doesn't work at the hospital."
"That's true, I don't. I work with horses."
A part of Meredith must not have aged past fifteen, because she had to bite her tongue not to blurt, I helped birth a pony, once.
"Are your horsies here?" Ellis asked.
"No, not today. My wife is a dance instructor. Those are her kids." She pointed out one of the dance troupes, made up of primarily, but not exclusively Latinx dancers.
"Does she offer hip-hop for lower levels?"
"Ellis!" Meredith cupped a hand against her daughter's head and ran it down through her hair to reassure her. "Sorry, we've had some…differences of opinion with the instructors at her dance school."
"Ah, I see. Well, she does offer hip-hop for everyone."
"Mommy! Did you hear, did you hear?"
"I am right here to hear, baby. We'll check it out, okay?"
"Yes. Okay, yes. Good homophones, Mommy! Hi, I'm Ellis Shepherd, and that's Bailey, and Zola, and Sofia, and Aunt Jo works with Mommy; she isn't married to Uncle Alex anymore."
Meredith winced. Jo shrugged. "She's not wrong."
"Nice to meet you," Layla said. "Such good manners." It was amazing how easy it was for Meredith to discern the teasing note that went over the kids' heads. She made a face, and Layla's grin only brightened. "Zola, I love your beads."
"Thank you," Zola said. "Mom did them last night." She'd been offering that as a response to comments on her hair more often lately. It tracked to a classmate assuming that her aunt styled it.
"You're my mom. Why wouldn't you do it?" she'd asked.
"I would, Zo. But sometimes…you know interracial adoptions can be complicated." Doling out that awareness was something Janet had gone over with them early on. Regardless of Zola's origins, she would be a Black girl in a white family.
"Mine's not. Can't I want people to know that?"
Meredith couldn't counter that. Not long after their first discussion, a nurse had commented on her latest style while Maggie was with them, and after asserting that her mom had doe it, Zola had stepped closer to Meredith and taken her hand, saying this is my mom without words. Later, when Meredith had mentioned it to Maggie, she'd been less bothered than Meredith expected. "Of course she wants them to know. You're her mom. You chose her, and you love her, not whatever hypothetical kid you didn't have. That's a big deal."
"Your mom's good with her fingers," Layla said. Jo made a noise that brought puzzled expressions to the youngest two faces, and Meredith wouldn't have minded having a trap door open below her. When they were old enough to revisit this moment in therapy, Jo and Layla were splitting the bill.
"Sofia's our cousin. She's been to lots of Pride things, because of having two moms," Bailey added. "It's our first."
"Bailey!" Zola snapped. "That doesn't matter!"
"Hey, whoa." Meredith turned, putting the hand that wasn't holding onto Ellis on Zola's shoulder. "It's okay, Zo-Zo."
"But he—you—" She pressed her lips together and tensed under Meredith's hand, frustrated at not being able to find the right words for her thoughts.
"I wasn't out to most people for a long time," Meredith acknowledged. "That was a choice I made. It's not upsetting to be reminded, okay? It's what happened."
"But you're happier now."
"I wasn't unhappy. I was with your dad, and you guys, and yes, a lot happened, but it didn't have anything to do with who knew that I am bisexual. Making a change doesn't mean you regret what came before. Does that make sense?"
"I guess. Sorry, B."
Yeah, they'd be revisiting this conversation, but she'd take the win.
"S'okay. I get it," Bailey said, and not for the first time Meredith wondered if those two had summits about how to avoid upsetting her. Too bad they didn't really know Izzie well; they could've compared notes.
She straightened, unable to shake a small dose of the shame she kept telling everyone she didn't feel, and the defensiveness she'd used to avoid it. It was wasted on Layla, who didn't show a hint of judgement in her face.
"So long as you're coming back next year this time. You owe me for Dyke March 1994."
"That's right! It was gonna be the first one."
"And I spent hours convincing you that you qualified. Don't make me do that again, I'll sic my wife on you, and she did queer studies at Wash U. You'll never be able to hear the word 'taxonomy' again."
"Do you hear it a lot now, Mom?" Bailey asked.
"About disease," Ellis responded, and everyone except Sofia, a child of doctors who didn't know Ellis well, looked down at her. "What? I listen."
"Good for you," Layla said. "Are you named after your grandmother?"
"Uh huh. The one we didn't meet her. B and Z are going to see Grandma Shepherd this week on the plane with Sofia."
"That sounds like an adventure. Wait a second." A gleeful expression that Meredith had last seen on her face when she caught a set-list Courtney Love had thrown offstage. "B," she pointed to Bailey. "Z. E. So that makes those two B and E? Meredith Grey, you of all people call your kids B&E?"
"Why 'of all people?'" Jo asked.
"We used to go out the window to sit on the porch roof," Meredith cut in. She wasn't ready for Zola to hear the adage that went around that summer: Meredith Grey doesn't use a door if she can use a window. "And it doesn't open anymore, so don't try it."
Bailey visibly deflated.
"You live in the same place?" Layla asked.
"It was Aunt Jo's house for a while," Bailey said. "But Dad died, and Mom bought it back."
"I'm not going, though," Ellis said, impatient with the adults who were saying things that weren't about her. "I get Mommy-time by myself."
"That sounds like it'll be fun. Your mom and I always had a good time by ourselves."
"Oh, I like her," Jo muttered.
"This is such a fun reunion," Meredith mused. "I love being roasted by my…." She trailed off and bit her lip, feeling fully fourteen again.
"I got a shovel talk from Ellis Grey," Layla said. "I better have been your damn girlfriend. Sorry again for my language."
"We know bad words," Bailey said. "You have to be as tall as Mom to use them."
"Won't be long for you, then, will it?"
Meredith got the feeling she was meant to say something there, about the additional caveats like the swear jar, and appropriate usage, but her mind was stuck in a rut, one that Layla had dug. "You…Mom knew?"
"Yeah, chica. I—wow, I thought you heard that. You hadn't gotten up yet, but you weren't snoring anymore so…."
"That usually means she's awake," Zola helpfully confirmed. "But sometimes she stops, and if you don't wear earplugs, it's like it's too quiet, and you wake up."
"Thank you, daughter dearest."
"Everyone we know has lived in our house at some point. It's not news that you snore. Mom collects strays," she added. "That's what Dad called it. But she still won't let us get a dog."
When you couldn't protest, the human strays don't pee on the furniture, what did that say about your life?
That you're willing to help anyone who needs it, Grey, Alex's voice answered, in the tone he'd used to convince her to let Rebecca stay.
"Okay, moving on…or back…you thought I was awake, and heard what?"
"Your mom looked in on us. I was led to believe that never happened—"
"It didn't!"
"So, I was in the same position I'd fallen asleep in, holding you, little spoon. I may have also been playing with that golden hair." She smiled down at Ellis. "We were always obvious is what I'm saying. She met my eyes, and said, 'you'll look after her?'
"Sounds like nothing, I know," she added, in Jo's direction. "But, you ever meet Ellis Grey? She had this look, like, she wasn't gonna turn you to stone right then, but if you screwed up. Whew."
"I can imagine," Jo replied.
"Lay! Layla, come on, we're moving out!" A hand connected to an arm covered in bangles raised up above the head of the dancers, who were shifting from milling around to moving in a solid direction.
"That's my cue," she said. "From my wonderfully bossy lady-love. Next time, I'll introduce you. And I will see you soon. Ellis can I count on you for that?"
"Your lady-love is the hip-hop teacher?"
"She primarily does admin these days, downside of owning the studio, but she does teach some classes, and she is in charge."
"Okay. Yup, you can count on me."
"And, uh, you have horses?" The question came from Zola, and Meredith decided she needed to stop trying to predict anything about her kids. "Aunt Amy says a lot of the cousins ride, and we'll probably get to go to a barn. If we like it…."
"I will," Bailey spoke up.
"If we do…."
"You can call me," Layla finished. "Perfect!"
"You don't use a guy named Finn Dandridge as your vet, do you?" Meredith asked. Murphy's law. One step ahead.
"I've met him at shows. He's too pretty. It's unnatural. We have an on-site vet. She preformed today, before the kiddos. Ms. Apprehension. His husband is our fourrier. Dandridge a friend?"
"No! Definitely not. I helped him birth a pony once."
How in hell could a blanket of utter silence fall on them in a crowd this size?
"You've had a life, Meredith Grey," Layla offered after half an eternity. "And I can't wait to hear more about it." She wrapped Meredith in another hug, and then used a finger to tip her chin up, and then sliding her thumb along her cheekbone. "You look good, killer."
"You, too."
Meredith watched Layla wade into the crowd, and take the hand being offered above the dancers' heads They were just close enough to hear the bangles jingle as the woman spun Layla in. The last sign of them was the melody of Layla's laughter.
The kids formed a hand-in-hand chain without protest. Once they cleared the mass centered around the stage, Meredith offered a final stop by the food trucks for a snack. She had no idea what or when dinner would be, and if she'd been the type of parent to use food as a motivator, they'd earned it.
A well-loved downtown gelato place had put together a pop-up that felt just like being in their store six blocks away. They'd limited their flavors, and set up a vanilla ice cream-based make-you-own soft serve sundae bar with a myriad of rainbow-themed toppings. Bailey was dumping gummy bears on his before she could get her wallet out, but while she helped Ellis spoon sprinkles onto hers, the older two hung back, surveying the menu and freezers critically.
"So gelato is like ice cream, right?" Zola confirmed. "And sorbet is the same as sherbet? And it's fruit. What are you getting, Mom?"
If she said strawberry sorbet, they'd copy her in the interest of seeming adult, no matter what Zola had seen her eat at any other point in her entire life. She'd been served enough fancy salads and strange sauces doing the same thing.
"Chocolate gelato," she ordered, and then turned to Jo, starting a breezy conversation while the older two made their choices. "I did make it to Italy. Sa—my girlfriend at the time and I tried a new gelato place every day for a week." Sadie had definitely been her damn girlfriend, whether she liked it or not. Also, she was pretty sure there'd been days when alcohol and gelato were all she ingested.
"Sprinkles, sprinkles, sprinkles," Ellis sang to herself licking a dribble that'd gone from her spoon down her arm. Meredith grimly added bath-time to her mental to-do list.
"Did you call them 'jimmies' growing up in Bah-ston?" Jo teased.
"Yup. Turns out to be yet one of many seemingly cutesy localized things with racist foundations."
"White people." Zola and Sofia chorused and then bumped fists. Their follow-up giggling filled the pop-up shop.
"That lady used to be your girlfriend, too?" Zola asked, and then her eyes popped as she closed her lips around her spoon. Meredith let her have a moment with her taste revelation.
"She did. When I was…not all that much older than you." She really hadn't been. Her daughter and Sofia still had so much little-girl about them, but she could see the hints of what connected her to her fifteen-year-old self, as well as what made her see that girl as so young.
"And Grandma Ellis knew?"
"Apparently so, Zo-Zo-Zo."
Her daughter rolled her eyes, shooting her the you're not funny look she perfected at two. "Is it okay?"
Meredith took time to consider that, licking her spoon clean, and stealing a half-frozen gummy bear from Bailey's cup. "It…. I wish she had said something to me, but she and I weren't great at communicating. It's possible she did, and I didn't hear her…." She trailed off, thinking of all the little things that might have meaning. Okaying that suit, which might be a borderline scandal today in many hospitals. Never objecting to her college classes. Even the way she'd protested Meredith going traveling with that girl. She's not good for you!
She always had been oblivious to cliches.
"She was your mom," Zola countered. "She should've made you hear."
"It can't be that hard," her brother added. "We know."
"What do you know?"
"That you love us, no matter what."
"Even if you don't like a bad choice," Ellie added. "And didn't choose us, like Zola, 'cause genetics."
"Whatever, I chose them," Zola countered. "Dad always said, he'd held hundreds of babies, and when he picked me up, he knew. I was definitely the one giving out the vibes."
Meredith wanted both to laugh and cry, but didn't relent to either. She'd always been a little self-conscious about how intuitive Derek had been, but she'd never forget that January day she'd known her baby had chosen her.
"But who someone is isn't a choice," Sofia added, kicking her shoe against the rim of her chair. "And you have to be ready for it to change, because everyone is always still figuring stuff out."
"That is very smart, Sof," Jo praised.
Sofia looked down. "It's stuff my moms say." Then she sat up again, her braces glittering as she smiled. "But I choose to say they're right."
Afternoon light had become lingering summer dusk by the time they got to the car. There was a flurry of seatbelts; a wail from Ellis who wanted to hold the 'dressed up bear' that been her souvenir, and was of course in the bottom of a bag; and the general snippiness of over-tired kids. Still, as she wove the car through throngs made up of more adults holding beverages than kids with multicolor balloons, Meredith felt a sense of ease; the rightness that'd dogged her over the past few months settling into her chest to roost.
"Hey, Mommy?" Ellis's voice cut into thoughts that were already half on which pajamas to send to New York with Bailey. "I'm happy you're bi-seck-sal because I had fun being proud."
She'd always know that there were downsides to reproducing with a very corny, sappy man. She'd had no idea that those would also be the best moments of her life. Next to her, Jo's face took on the expression she usually reserved for newborns, which did not help. Did Ellis Grey's silence ever stem from being floored by her child? Maybe she really was making this raising-well-adjusted-kids thing work.
"Thank you, baby," she finally managed. "Me, too."
"It'd be better if you were gay."
Jo lost it. It'd been a while since Meredith flat-out wanted to shove someone, but that person had probably been Alex, so that felt about right.
"Why's that, Ellie?"
"Guh-ay Grey," she said, over-enunciating the alliteration. "Gay Grey. Any of us would only be gay Shepherds, and that is not as fun."
"You are absolutely right." Please write a poem about this I can read at your wedding, whomever you marry, on whichever piece of stationary.
"Why don't you name your bear that, Ellie-Belle " Bailey suggested. "Then we'll never forget how…witty you are."
"He's not gray. He's cinnamon-colored. He'd get confused."
"He's dark brown. You just like saying cinnamon."
"So?"
"Don't worry, B," Zola-the-peacemaker cut in, a hint of mischief in her voice. "She'll forget until, one day, she's getting married, or graduating grad school, or something, and I'll give a very nice speech Mom can be proud of, except the first letters of every sentence will spell out GAY GREY. No one will get it but us in this car."
Meredith's knuckles went white on the steering wheel. In twenty or thirty years, would she remember this day? Or would it be that day that she couldn't recall?
The older two shook on it while Ellis murmured, "Gay Grey grad graduating day." Meredith wasn't going to try to push her away from science, but she did wonder if any of Debbie's ledgers were labeled Grey Shepherd Offspring: Careers. She could put any winnings toward this hypothetical celebration dinner without openly condoning Zola's brilliant plan.
"Sometimes I think I missed out by not having permanent siblings," Jo commented as they turned into the townhouse driveway.
"And we make you change your mind," Bailey suggested.
"The opposite, actually."
"Oh. Well. You might still get one," he said, undoing the strap on his booster-seat the second Meredith cut the motor. "Mom got all her sisters as a grown-up."
"That's not usually how it works, though, Bay," she reminded him.
"I know," he said, blithely, the but still resonating in his voice. "C'mon, E." He held his sister's hand as she jumped down to the sidewalk, holding Gay Cinnamon, or whatever the bear's name would be, by a paw.
Sofia and Zola climbed out of the way-back. "Mom, Ellie's sticky. Want me to get her in the tub?"
"That's okay, Zo. Go up, and pla—hang out with your cousin. Yes, I'm sure," she added, precluding the unasked question. "Thank you for stepping up and offering."
Zola responded by kissing her on the temple and leaping out of the car. Sofia followed.
"She's always been good with them, but then I got sick, and Maggie got married, and I have to tell my twelve-year-old not to do chores that'd be outside the realm of a mother's helper. Everyone says it's not an adoption thing, but—"
"It's not," Jo interrupted. "I've seen a lot of adoption issues. She may have a couple, even if you're doing everything perfectly, but that? That was an 'I love you' issue."
"I hope so. It's hard to see, because when I was compliant, it usually meant I was terrified of doing something wrong."
"You're putting that in past tense?"
"I could find a way to turn you to stone, Wilson. I have very fancy neurosurgery equipment at my disposal."
"Nah, you still feel sorry for me because my husband left me to be with the kids his ex- had without telling him she'd even taken the eggs out of storage; and you're a little bit afraid I'll end up in the looney bin again without reaching out for help first, because I blame you. Even though he didn't give you, his best friend, or your kids fair warning either."
"That's… astute. On the nose, even."
"I had a good teacher." Jo grinned. "Do you have ingredients for spaghetti? I'll cook while you get them wrangled. Consider it a thank you."
"For what? Five visits to the portapotties?"
"No." She flicked her eyes to the side, like she could see something just beyond Meredith. "Just…the reminder that I'm not only a doctor. I'm also Jo Wilson. Even if I haven't stopped to examine exactly who she is…. Hey, get it? Doctor, examine?"
"Very clever." She hoped her sincerity outweighed the sarcasm—but not enough to encourage the puns. She already rued the day when Ellis truly came to understand double-meaning.
She took her time getting into the house, attaching her newest keychain and arranging the kids' individual souvenirs. Lastly, she dug out the bag that held the blanket Sofia had pointed out was identical to one both her moms had. It said Family Is a Rainbow, above a silhouette of a dozen or more bodies filled in with a full spectrum of color. The kids had liked the idea of all having the same blanket in their living rooms, and the sentiment felt very Arizona Robbins, which Meredith appreciated. It'd been Arizona who'd made the off-hand comment that got her to reconsider identifying openly.
"Oh, that's Seattle PrideFest weekend! That could be a fun activity…except…."
"Except what? They'd like that. Bay already has a thing for rainbows. Color in general, really."
"Aw that's great! But…I know you and Calliope do your flirting thing, but you're not really…I heard rumors about you and that crazy intern, but I also heard she was with Lexie, which always sounded more likely…."
"What? Lexie was a Kinsey 0—honestly, I'd have loved her regardless, but anything else would've made the single, white, female thing even creepier."
"Oh, I see. Wait, why? Wouldn't that make her more like you?"
"Ari—Arizona, you know I'm bi, don't you?"
"You're…."
"Like, if you accept Kinsey scores as a thing, which I think is suspicious, because sexuality doesn't fit on a chart—"
"Meredith—"
"I mean, some parts of it do. Carina did great work—but if we're talking attraction."
"Meredith, you don't have to—"
"I'd be like a 3.75, maybe? I really held onto 4.0 in college, because I liked the joke about it being my sexuality, not my GPA, but—"
"In college? So you were…?"
"Out. I'm out. I mean, I'm not, but…the important people know. Cristina. Alex. Callie. I thought you… Well. Lexie knew. Derek. Amelia and Maggie, I—I think. Jeez, Robbins you're making me second guess everything, now."
"Sorry! So sorry!"
"No. It's okay. It's…it's good. I don't know why I haven't ever—I mean, the kids and I have talked about how Sofia happened. Not the whole story, of course, but…."
"Yeah, I'm dreading the day we have to tell a story including the words "palette cleanser," but it is her story. She deserves to hear it, once she's old enough to—I hope she'll understand. It'll be hard on Callie, if…."
"Trust me, she already knows you make mistakes. Not you specifically, but adults in general. Parents. They're always watching."
"You make them sound like demons. Or Santa. Little demon Santas. Hey, speaking of—"
"Of little demon Santas?"
"No, of parents! Did your mother…? Or, had you not had your gay panic yet?"
"Bisexual panic."
"Right, sorry. Didn't know how you identified, some people get so put out by 'queer' these days, and I never know when to stop listing letters if I try to do the initial thing, and when I'm talking to the parents of my kiddos on HRT they get overwhelmed so easily…. The parents, again. Not the kiddos."
"That tracks…uh, no. I mean, yes. I knew by the time I was twelve. My mother…I don't think she knew."
She'd said that over and over; while making sure Maggie and Amy did know, talking to the kids, expanding the story for Miranda…I don't think she knew, became she didn't know, and she'd felt settled in that certainty.
It just went to show, people were always changing, because their perception of other people was constantly being altered, both in terms of knowledge and understanding.
It might be that you could never know yourself, not fully, and not accepting that made the surprises from others harder to field. She'd assumed her mother suffered from that form of rigid thinking, specifically in regards to Meredith. The parents of her college friends definitely had. How many kids—and now there would be so many more kids, not pseudo-adults whose brains were still developing but were at least legally emancipated—had that problem? Having three of her own made the prospect of fostering any time in the next half a decade overwhelming, but she could do something. A foundation, maybe? The Ellis Grey Fund: Turning a Blind Eye Since 1993?
Was that cruel? Or simply true?
Inside, Meredith draped the blanket over the back of the couch and ran a hand over it, touching the vibrant colors of the centered figures and continuing along to the shadows. It was woven in a way that created a color reversal on the other side; symbolism that appealed to her, once she got past her immediate urge to dismiss the thought. With the negative image, it truly encompassed their family: Those who were close, who lived across the country, who weren't with them but were mentioned daily, who didn't get referenced often but deserved inclusion. Parents, friends, lovers, siblings, coworkers, patients. The ones she had to keep alive, who hadn't meet one, or two, or all three of her children, but she wanted them to know. Those who'd fell into multiple categories, or didn't quite fit into any. They were all represented, all part of the spectrum of colors and shadows, absorbing and reflecting light in different ways.
It was so similar to how she believed about life. A mix of darkness and light based on who someone was, what they'd done, where they'd been. Their values, their loves, their hates. All of it combined to create a jewel. Like all jewels, sometimes you had to be willing to put in effort to garner the reward of discovery. It might take digging. There might be explosions, and cave ins, and times when it felt like the effort wasn't worth it—but it was. It always was, because —sometimes deep down, sometimes even deeper— everyone had something that shone.
The End! My first Grey's fic in ten years! I've got several one-shots coming over the next month or so, sharing the loose theme of "Meredith and Derek actually talk about shit, and also some sex," as well as the behemoth that my San Diego-fic has become.