EPILOGUE
I wait at the alter for the first peek of my Anastasia. We have been apart since after the rehearsal dinner last night. I wait patiently as the toddling flower girl makes her way down the aisle, meticulously dropping rose petals, one by one. Hurry up child, quit stealing the show. The ring bearer already threw down the pillow and took off running for his grandmother and the lollipops he knows she keeps in her purse.
Elliott tugs at the collar to his tuxedo shirt and I throw him a brotherly elbow. Elliott mutters "Asshat." I mutter back "Jack Hole." My mother directs some serious stink eye from the front row.
Finally, Mia walks down the aisle. My little sister gives me a wink, knowing I am about thirty seconds away from running down the aisle to carry my girl back up to the alter.
Ana makes her entrance. She looks stunning in her dress. We can't take our eyes off of each other. She takes her spot. The congregation stands and turns to watch Katherine Kavanaugh make her way down the aisle on her father's arm. Who would have thought that while Ana was taming me in Europe, her roommate was back home weaving her own magical spell over my brother?
We returned from Brinard to find Elliott totally enraptured with Ana's roommate. We all waited for Elliott to lose interest in what we figured was just an extended flavor-of-the-week. Even Kate expected for Elliott's attention to come with an expiration date. Kate is a smart girl and she knew of Elliott's love-'em-and-leave-'em ways. She figured that whatever was going on between them was nothing more than a fling.
When Kate was offered a six-month assignment overseas, no one was more surprised than her when Elliott showed up on her doorstep on bended knee. Elliott begged Kate not to take the assignment. He proposed right there while Ana and I watched on from their living room couch. Kate told Elliott to stand up and quit embarrassing himself. She explained that neither one of them were ready for marriage. Kate told Elliott that she still wasn't sure whether or not she could trust self-proclaimed retirement from the playboy lifestyle. Elliott begged and pleaded for Kate to give him a chance to prove how serious he was about her.
Despite my brother's awkward display of…something, Kate took the overseas assignment. She told Elliott that if he could abstain from seeing other girls while she was gone, she was willing to discuss their future when she returned.
When Kate left, Elliott was so despondent that my mother sent him to see a therapist. Ten minutes into his first appointment, the therapist suggested that Elliott write Kate a letter, a real letter using pen and ink. Elliott thanked the therapist, immediately left the office and got to work writing Kate a letter every day. Two months later, Kate ditched her assignment, returned to Seattle, and promptly moved in with the reformed man whore of Seattle. Elliott won't tell me what he wrote in the letters, but Ana has seen them and she says they are good, really good. Not hearts and flowers in Paris good, of this I am sure.
While Kate and Elliott were busy playing house, I was doing my damndest to convince Andrea to take an extended maternity leave, paid of course. Ana was adamant that she was going to look for a job in publishing as soon as her temporary assignment as my assistant was over. I tried everything to get her to stay on at GEH. I even looked into buying a publishing house, but GEH had seen a bad enough quarter with the German data and the collapse of the luxury yachting division. The last thing that I needed to do was buy a failing business that was part of a struggling industry.
Andrea agreed to stay out for almost a full year. On Ana's second to last day before Andrea returned, my temporary assistant went missing. After putting out an APB, Ana was located. She had locked herself in the executive washroom. I was summoned to decipher what she was saying through unrelenting sobs. Crying-In-the-Bathroom Ana translates similarly to Drunk Girl.
FLASHBACK
"Ana, baby, please unlock the door. It's just me. Let me come in so you can tell me what's wrong." I coo through the door.
All I can make out between her sobs is "career...rock…everyday...lobster."
At some point, Taylor locates a key to the restroom, and I let myself in. Ana is sitting on the floor, surrounded by used tissues, wailing away. I slide down next to her and pull her into my lap. I wrap my arms around her and rub her back. Her sobbing goes on for what feels like an eternity before she is finally able to string together coherent words.
"I always thought that I would be a career woman, you know, a real bad ass in the publishing world. I was going to find the next Harper Lee and the next Margaret Mitchell."
"You still can, baby," I assure her as I stroke her back. Who is this woman and what has she done with my girlfriend?
"No, I can't!" She argues and slaps my arm. Her little love taps are so adorable.
"It's all your fault, Grey," she accuses. 'You changed everything on that rock in the Black Forest when you promised your flowers and your hearts and your worshipping," she spits out.
I suppress my inner chuckle, knowing that this will only add gasoline to the dumpster fire that is currently burning in my lap. I continue to rub her back while she wails.
"It's all your fault! You are the one who makes everyday better because I get to spend it with you. Now I don't even want to be a book editor."
Still with the placating, I use my best no-you-aren't-being-crazy-crying-on the bathroom-floor-at-work voice and ask, "You don't want to be an editor, baby? But that's what you have always dreamed of doing."
I begin to try to think of a way to send Taylor or Ros an SOS. I've never met bat-shit-crazy Ana. I am at a loss on what to do here.
"No, I don't want to be an editor anymore," Ana snaps back at me. "It's not like I could get a job in publishing anyways."
"Baby, you can work wherever you want. Just tell me where and I will make some calls."
"No, Christian, I can't work anywhere I want to," Ana speaks to me like I am a small child and a little slow to understand. Who is this woman and what has she done with my perfectly brilliant and witty girlfriend?
"Do you want to know why I can't get a job in publishing or anywhere else? Do you want to know, Christian?" I nod my head yes. I'm growing increasingly afraid that speaking may unleash Medusa's snakes upon me.
"I'll tell you why, lobster! That's why I no longer can or want to work in publishing or anywhere else for that matter!"
What in the ever-loving mental health crisis is happening right now? Not even Elliott's therapist could solve this cyclone of cuckoo.
"It's Elliott and Kate's stupid lobster's fault."
"Do you mean the lobster that gave you food poisoning a few months ago?"
"Yes!" Ana seems pleased that I have identified the specific lobster that ruined her career.
"If it weren't for their stupid, tainted lobster, I wouldn't have gotten food poisoning. If I hadn't gotten food poisoning, I wouldn't have needed antibiotics. If I didn't take antibiotics, then my birth control wouldn't have failed. If my birth control wouldn't have failed then…"
"HOLY SHIT, ANA! Are you telling me that you are pregnant?" I bellow.
Ana nods and tucks her head into my neck and resumes her wailing. I pull her off of my chest and hold her by the shoulders.
In a much softer voice, I ask, "Ana are you telling me that we are having a baby?" I can't help but feel the smile on my face.
Ana shakes her head 'no' and holds up two fingers.
"No, we are not having a baby, we are having two babies!" she sobs as she throws herself back against my chest.
Fuck yeah, we are having twins! Ana is having my babies! I want to jump for joy and shout it from the roof top. But first, I need to contain this ball of hormones that is clinging to me spider monkey style. I pick Ana up and sit her on the vanity. Holding her by the shoulders, I insist that she look me in the eyes. I tell her how thrilled I am that she is giving me the greatest gift in the world. I explain to her that these will be the luckiest two babies in the world, because they get her for a mom. I vow to get as many nannies as it takes so that she can still pursue her dreams of becoming an editor.
"No, Christian! I already told you. I don't want to be an editor anymore!"
I frown.
"Well, prey tell, my love, what is it that you do want to do?"
Ana wipes her eyes and gives me a sheepish little smile and says, "I want to be your wife and raise the most gorgeous little babies that look just like their father."
I bend down on my knee, with Ana still sitting on the vanity, and propose to the love of my life. Taylor and Ros, who have been listening through the door, run quickly to my office to get Ana's engagement ring out of the safe. The bathroom door cracks open just far enough for someone to slide the familiar red, leather box across the floor. So here, on the bathroom floor of the women's restroom on the twentieth floor of Grey House, my Anastasia agrees to become my wife.
END OF FLASHBACK
Ana and I returned Germany and got married amongst the ruins of the castle in the Black Forest. Kate and Elliott came along as our witnesses. My favorite wedding picture is of Ana and I, barefoot in our wedding clothes, sitting together on our rock in the middle of the stream.
Despite a few crazy hormonal swings at the beginning, Ana's pregnancy was smooth sailing. She went part time at GEH when Andrea returned. We bought a house on the water. Ana worked with Elliott to get it ready in time for our twin's arrival.
Theodore Raymond and Phoebe Grace made a grand entrance just a few weeks ahead of schedule. Taylor and I had flown down to Portland for the day. Our housekeeper, Gail, drove Ana to the hospital while Kate and my mom worked feverishly to get in touch with me. I made it back to Seattle with only seconds to spare. Ana's OBGYN said that she's never seen such big babies come out so quickly from such a small pelvis.
No matter how much I encourage my wife to pursue a career in publishing, she wants to stay home with our children while they are young. She does come in to help out at Grey House whenever Andrea is out of the office.
Teddy and Phoebe are our world. Ana is an amazing mother, even if Phoebe tried to steal the show with her flower girl duties and Teddy conned Carla out of at least three lollipops during the ceremony. They are two years old. I think they are pretty brilliant.
Ana and I walk arm-in-arm back down the aisle, following the newlyweds.
"How are you feeling?" I whisper in her ear as I steel a kiss.
She looks up at me with those adoring blue eyes.
"We are feeling just fine, Mr. Grey," she replies with a hand to her belly. Our second set of twins is due in less than a month. I'm the luckiest SOB that ever walked the earth.