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ENTRY NUMBER TWELVE
She showed up at his door, soaking wet, bruised, and covered in glitter.
~Glitter Girl~
HER POINT OF VIEW
It's been a year today, Christmas Eve, since my life changed forever. When I thought it was ending, little did I know it was just beginning.
The small cabin I rent is up a mountain just outside Aspen. I want a new start on my own, but know I need to make money quickly to repay student loans so I've taken a job teaching with a very good salary.
My degree from The University of Washington hangs proudly in my little cabin. I loved my four years in university; reading books and working in the library. The English degree and my summa cum laude recognition for the highest grades had come easy. Friends however, well, it seemed I always attracted the wrong kind of person into my life.
Now I am the lead teacher in a room full of twenty four-year-olds at the most prestigious private school in Aspen. The salary is much better than the public schools and even though not my first choice in careers; it's working out great so far.
We'd have so much fun make Christmas crafts, but if I never see a tube of glitter again, it would not be long enough. The girls in my class love things that sparkle more than any other craft we work on.
As the boys are busy painting with the teacher's aide, my first new friend, I have the girls making glitter globes.
They really turn out well; glitter calmly settles at the bottom of the glass globe until you give the globe a shake. And then the glitter floats around in the water of the globe for several minutes before settling to the bottom once again.
One of the girls suggests we put all the left0ver glitter in a jar so I'd remember each of their individual creations over the holidays.
"Miss Steele?"
"Yes, Samantha?" I turn to face the cherub face of one of my favorite students. Her long hair its as white as the snow outside and her eyes as crystal clear blue as the sky on a sunny day.
"Could we place all the glitter in a jar for you? That way you'll remember all our glitter globes over the holiday."
Previously, we'd make cookies in a jar as gifts and I had several large jars left over.
"I think that is a wonderful idea Samantha. Once everyone has finished their globe, each of you can pour the remainder of your glitter into a jar for me to keep."
Once the crafts are complete, all the girls come one by one and gently pour their glitter into a jar. When everyone finishes, and it seems as if glitter is everywhere, I praise and thank them all for their kind gesture and I adore the jar full of multicolored glitter.
This is the last day of school until after the holidays and it's bittersweet saying goodbye to all my students. As we'd had cookies at the end of the day, inviting their parents to join us, each of them presented me with a gift. I now have a collection of new scarves, a few pairs of gloves, and gift cards to every restaurant in Aspen. My favorite gift came from my favorite girl, Samantha.
She'd had a hard time coming to school this year, having spent the first four years of life at home with her mother. She is brilliant, but had more separation anxiety than the others. Our wonderful relationship now is thanks to hard work and lots of tears. I know now she trusts me and I love spending time with her, I've actually babysat a few times for her mom when her dad is out of town. They don't have any family close by to depend on, and neither do I. Samantha has not cried in months, not until the last day of school.
She's the last one in the classroom and I notice she and her mom are purposefully waiting for everyone else to leave.
"Miss Steele, I have a gift for you," she tells me as she comes up and gives me a long, tight hug. I'd sat in my rocking chair so I could be eye level with my students.
"Why, thank you Miss Samantha; you didn't have to do anything for me." I hug her back and as usual, I am never first to let go; I always let go once the child lets go. That way I know their love tank is full, them letting go when they'd had enough. Hugs are rare in my life, and I cherish each one I receive from these precious little angels.
She let go of my neck and stood back, anxiously awaiting my reaction to her gift.
Inside the large pink envelope is a homemade card and yet another gift card. She has signed the card perfectly, her penmanship amazing for a four year old.
"Let's see what we have here," I say as I open the smaller envelope surrounding the gift card.
I'm shocked to see the generous offering, a fifteen hundred dollar gift card to the St. Regis Aspen Resort and the Remede Aspen Spa.
"Mrs. Grey, I'm sorry, I can't accept a gift like this. I, uh, this is way too much."
Samantha's face falls and I can't stand the thought of hurting her but this is outrageous. It's almost half what I bring home in a month.
"Miss Steele, my husband and I insist. I knew you'd react this way and I contacted the headmaster to insure there'd be no repercussions for you accepting this gift and I was assured, whatever we gift you is between you and my family. It's the least we can do for you; you've changed our daughter's life."
"Mrs. Grey; Samantha came to me and was simply frightened of being away from you, it's something lot's of children her age deal with. All I did was make her feel safe and comfortable, it's what I try to do for all my children."
"Miss Steele, Mrs. Grey, please excuse me; I'm sorry to interrupt but I have a flight to catch this afternoon back home to San Fransisco. I want to say goodbye before I leave." Lauren, my assistant, is going home to her family today and won't be back in Aspen until the day before school begins after the first of the year.
"Excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Grey." She smiles and takes Samantha's hand.
"Are you okay, Ana?" Lauren asks, the look on my face must be one of shock, still unbelieving of the gift card in my hand.
"The Grey's gave me a very generous gift card to St. Regis; I can't accept it but I don't want to offend them."
"Ana, don't you know who her husband is? He's one of the most wealthy me in the country? I'm sure he makes more money in a day than you make in a month; trust me, this is nothing to them. Just say 'thank you' and make a reservation and enjoy it!"
I know Mr. Grey is a famous business man, but I had no idea of their income; Mrs. Grey and Samantha act like simple people and certainly don't flaunt their wealth.
We quickly hug and Lauren is out the door, waving her goodbye and Merry Christmas wishes as she rushes to make her flight.
Mrs. Grey and Samantha are sitting at Samantha's desk and looking though a book Samantha can read word for word.
I take the chair beside Samantha and try to find something to say.
"Mrs. Grey, this gift is the most generous gift I've ever received, from anyone. While I think it is way too much, I want to thank you for your generosity. I, well, I really can't thank you enough."
"Seeing my daughter smile every day when I pick her up is thanks enough. Now you make a reservation over the holidays, I think this is enough for one night at the hotel and all day in the spa. You'll be so relaxed after the spa you won't want to drive back home." She smiles as if she knows from experience.
"I know it will be amazing, thank you again for your generosity."
"Thank you, Samantha; this is the best Christmas gift I've ever received." I reach down to hug her and she grabs my neck and would not let go. I pick her up and she clings even tighter.
I realize quickly she is crying.
"Hey sweet girl, what are those tears for? It's Christmas and you're on vacation! You should be smiling, not crying!"
"I can't imagine not seeing you for two weeks." She sniffles and wipes her nose as she tries to hold her emotion at bay.
"Awe, sweetheart; you'll have so much fun with your mom and dad and don't forget, Santa comes in just a few days."
"I know, but I'll really miss you, Miss Steele." She hugs me again and I smile helplessly at her mother.
"Come on Sammie, let's head home so Miss Steele can begin her vacation, too." Her mom reaches for her and she lets go of me to go to her mom.
"Have a wonderful vacation, Samantha; your mom has my cell phone number, ask her to send me a picture of all your gifts on Christmas morning."
"I will Miss Steele, and you'll send me picture of you, won't you?"
I hesitate for just a moment..."Sure I will." I tell them both.
As they walk out of my classroom hand in hand, my heart breaks just a little as I realize I'll never have what they have. Money, marriage and motherhood don't seem likely in my future.
I drive up the mountain once more in my used Jeep; thankful my dad helped me trade in my old Volkswagen for a more mountain friendly vehicle when he came to visit the summer I moved here.
He's a good man, Raymond Steele, the only father I've ever known. I believe he was hurt when I moved away, but understood my need to leave the area and become my own person. I heard from him a few weeks ago when his schedule at the precinct came out for the holidays.
"Annie, I'm sorry but I'll be working through the holidays. You know those young newlyweds and new fathers think they should be off on Christmas. They know I'm alone and while I know they aren't taking advantage, I gladly agree to work so they can be home with their families. You don't mind do you, honey?"
"Of course not, Dad; I totally understand. I'm thankful for all the Christmases someone else worked so you could be at home with me."
We wished each other well and promised to plan a spring break vacation together.
I never gave thought to spending Christmas with my mom; I rarely hear from her as she is now across the country with husband number four. This one seems much better than number three; but they have their own life now and there is no room in it for me.
She missed my high school and college graduations, something my dad will never forgive her for; she rarely remembers my birthday and holidays are too busy trying to impress her latest friends and new family. I'd long ago realized I am a mistake in her life.
When I arrive home, knowing my next two weeks calendar is completely empty, I decide to make my appointment for my spa day. There is a forecast for snow later in the week and even though I'm comfortable driving, I decide to stock my fridge, download a few books and stay in by the fire and read my way through the holidays.
The spa and hotel has an opening for December twenty-third; I'll have my spa day all day, spend the night of the twenty-third and head back home on Christmas Eve.
Mrs. Grey is right. I check in to the spa with my small overnight tote and I'm immediately checked in to my room as well.
I have the total spa experience. First an hour long massage, then a facial. Then a manicure and pedicure, I'm embarrassed for them to see my boot clad feet. Then I have a hair cut. My long brown hair had been neglected for over a year.
As I sit in the stylist chair, he looks at me questioning what he should do with my waist long hair.
"So, Miss Steele, what did you have in mind today?" Franco asks in what I feel sure was a fake accent. He pulls my hair back and into a hand held pony tail.
"Shall we cut some of the length today?" I almost go into a panic. My hair has not been short since ninth grade, on one of the worst days of my life.
My mom has taken me away from my dad, from Washington and moved me to Texas to join her and new husband number three. I hate him from the day I see him. My dad hates him, he is so afraid for me I realize later, he's bought me a cell phone, telling me to keep is secret from my mom and to use it only to call him and if I ever need him or have an emergency.
Little did we both know, I'd need the phone sooner rather than later.
My long hair has become unruly in the Texas heat so one day after school, I decide to trim it. I am in the bathroom and I hear the door slam downstairs. My mom never slams the door so I know it is her husband. I quietly close and lock the bathroom door. Trying not to make a mess, I've taken off my jeans and am standing here in a t-shirt, my bra and panties. Husband number three already looks at me all the time and takes every opportunity to brush up against me; most of the time in almost inappropriate ways.
He comes upstairs and I am about half way through trimming my waist long hair. I almost cut myself as he bangs on the door. There is only one bathroom upstairs and one downstairs. He knows I am in the bathroom and I know he will not give up once he starts. Gathering my scissors and cleaning up the best I can, I wrap a towel around me and open the door.
"Excuse me, I'll be out of your way," I say as I try to escape, planning to run to my room and lock the door. He grabs my arm as I go by, the scissors falling to the floor and my towel dropping as I try to catch the scissors.
"Well, well, well, what do we have hear, Miss Anastasia? Were you waiting on me to get home?" He reaches out and rubs a finger down my cheek.
"No, sir; I am just trimming my hair." I try to pull away from him, afraid for the first time I am in the house alone with with him and no hope of my mom returning any time soon.
"Well let me help you, I cut the guys hair back when I was in the Army. I'm sure I can cut yours."
He smells of cigarette's and beer, and I almost vomit as he comes closer to me.
"Thank you, but I can finish in my room." Again, I try to pull away.
"I said, I will help you." His grip tightens on my arm, that he holds just beside my breast. Knowing I am not going to win this argument, I decide to go along to try to keep him calm.
It is obvious, as I'd bent over and trimmed about a foot off my hair, that the left side is sharply shorter than the right side of my hair as it hangs down my shoulders and over my arms.
He pulls me back into the bathroom and pushes me down onto the bench at the vanity. A wide mirror spread before us so I can see everything he is doing.
He takes my brush and goes through my hair multiple times, rubbing his hands across my neck and shoulders with each pass. Inside my mind is screaming at me to get away from him, but I fear it will be worse if I run. And where could I go, I am in a t-shirt and my panties; my jeans folded neatly on my bed.
Once my hair is brushed to his satisfaction; he takes the scissors and I silently pray, 'Please don't let him cut me with the sharp
knives in his hand'.
He carefully lifts my hair at the center of my back with his left hand as he holds the scissors in his right hand. I feel them cut across the hair in his hand and as if my hair has nerves in it, I feel as if it burns with each clip. He pulls my hair backward with his left hand, so there was no way I can look down to see how much he is cutting.
He pulls all my hair back behind me as chunk after chunk falls to the ground. My head feels too light, my hair is very thick and heavy. As he moves to the left, I tell him I've already cut that side.
"I've already trimmed the left side, you won't need to do any trimming there. Thank you for helping me. I'll clean in here and go to my room."
His right hand presses against me shoulder and the cool blade of the scissors rests against my neck.
"Sit. Still. Stay. Seated." He pronounces each word alone and his eyes bore into mine reflected in the mirror.
Afraid if I move he'll cut my neck, accidentally of course; I stay seated, barely able to breathe.
He steps to my left side, picks up a bunch of my hair, and begins to cut from the back toward the front across my shoulder. My heavy hair cascades to the floor and then swings back grazing the top of my left shoulder.
My hands go to my mouth as I gasp, and hot tears begin to pour from my eyes.
"No, Stephen; you've cut too much." Already, I know it is too late. As I try to stand, again, he jerks me back down to the bench.
"I'm tired of you hiding behind this waist-long mop of hair. I want it short so I can see you better." He leans down to my ear, his breath as hot as fire. "Now, pretty little girl, I can see those perfect tits of yours." His cold rough finger rubs just below my neckline, across the front of my chest.
In that moment, I am afraid for my life. I stare back at him in the mirror, speechless as he cuts all my hair off. I vow then and there, if I have to walk from Texas to Washington, I'll never spend another night in this house again. He lets me go without touching me again.
I calmly leave the bathroom and go to my room. As quietly as I can, I dig the cell phone my dad gave me from a hidden pocket in my book bag.
"Stephen cut all my hair off, please rescue me." I send the text with as much information in as few words as possible.
"On my way, are you safe?" My dad responds immediately.
"For now," I respond.
My dad, along with the local police chief, rescue me that evening.
My mom is horrified when she answers the door, having no idea what is going on.
Dad texted to say he'd arrive around nine thirty that evening and come to get me; he asks me to pack everything I want, as I will not be coming back.
I stay in my room, pack a few clothes, my journal and a few books my dad has given me.
When I hear the commotion of my mom wanting to know what is going on, I know it'll be safe to finally leave my room and head downstairs.
My mom is shocked when she see's me coming down the stairs, packed and with short hair.
"My God, Ana, what did you do to your hair?" She asks.
I go straight into my father's arms and fall apart.
"Your husband..." my dad tries to gather his thoughts but is speechless as he rubs my back and holds me tightly in his arms.
"Mrs. Morton," the police officer says, "Your daughter sent a text to her father this afternoon stating your husband cut all her hair off and asked him to come rescue her."
My mother burst into laughter; "Oh Ana, you've got to be kidding me." "Stephen!" She yells up the stairs for her husband to come down.
"What's he doing here," he asks as he comes stumbling down the stairs. Obviously, he'd had more to drink since my haircut.
"Ana said you cut her hair?" My mom looks at Stephen and then back to me.
"Yeah, I did. She was trying to cut it when I got home and she asked me to help her. I told her I'd cut a few guys hair back in the Army and made sure she wanted my help and she told me to cut it all off, it was too hot for long hair in Texas."
"That's not true!" I cry as I pull away from my dad.
"Ana...Ray, you know she always wants to be the center of attention; she is such a little drama queen." My mother must hate me.
I crumble into my dad's arms.
"Please believe me, Daddy; I was trimming my hair and he made me let him cut it...I'd only cut about twelve inches; he's the one who cut it up to my shoulders."
"I believe you baby, I believe you." Relief floods me as he holds me, soothing me in his arms.
"I'm taking her home with me." Ray said.
"You don't have custody of her, she is MY daughter, not YOURS!" My mother screams.
"Please officer," I began to beg, please let me go home with my daddy, please don't make he stay here.
I'm pulled from my memories as Franco stops brushing my hair.
I did go home with my dad and through the courts and a guardian ad litem, full custody for me was given to my dad with open visitation for my mom. Funny, she never returned to Washington state since and husband number three is history.
"I want about twelve inches taken off; I still want it to hang to my elbows and down my back."
"Miss Steele, your hair is thick and beautiful; would you consider donating it to Locks of Love? I'm sure some little girl who does not have any hair would love to have this on her head."
"I've never done that, but yes, absolutely; just tell me what I need to do."
I walk out of the salon with my hair noticeably shorter to me, a long pony tail of hair in a zip lock bag for me to send off; some layers in the front and a few gentle highlights. I bought a dress in the shoppe in the lobby and here I am, massaged, painted, new hair cut and no one to share it with. Story of my life, always alone. I've grown used to it but sometimes I long for someone to share things with. I order room service, watch a movie and check the weather before I get into this luxury bed. There is a promise of a white Christmas, with snow fall predicted to start early afternoon tomorrow and last for several days. I'll easily make it home before the storm hits.
When the bright sun shines into the room, I'm momentarily disoriented, forgetting I've spent the night in a luxury room at the St. Regis. My nights are normally interrupted by dreams, occasional nightmares of what might have happened earlier in my life. I don't remember sleeping through the night in years. I may have to invest in one of these beds.
By the time I shower, have breakfast and gather my belongings; I check out and the clouds are covering the sun. They are thick to the point of blocking almost all daylight, a dreary winter day has set it. I quickly take inventory before I head up the mountain. My firewood is stocked, my fridge is stocked and should the power go out, the two fireplaces will provide light and warmth.
I pull out of the hotel parking lot, drive through town and turn to go up the winding road to my cabin. My rental is set about twenty yards off the road, and easily seen from the highway. Most of the houses and chalet's are set off the road, invisible behind gated driveways.
As I go around the curves up the mountain, something it rattling in the floor of the passenger side. It almost sounds like glass. Once I'm in the straightaway, I look down, and there rolling back and forth against the metal bars holding the passenger seat in place is my jar of glitter made by my girls at school. If this jar breaks, there will be glitter EVERYWHERE!
The snow is coming down in a fury now, I'm barely able to see with my wipers on high. The road is covered and even though I've driven up this mountain hundreds of times, day and night, I can no longer tell where the road ends and the ditch begins. The plows will be out soon, but for now, a thick blanket of white is all I see.
The higher I climb, the thicker the snow falls. I'm in four wheel drive and feel confident driving, as long as I stay out of the ditch. I know a sharp curve it up ahead and if the jar of glitter is not secured, it'll surely burst. I check before and behind me and the road is clear of vehicles; of course no one is out driving in this blizzard. I slowly unbuckle my seat belt and bend over quickly to capture the glitter. Jar in hand, I snap up and before I can do anything else, a truck comes flying by me down the mountain. Panicked, I slam on the breaks, the Jeep begins to spin around in the road, the jar of glitter goes flying, crashing down onto a metal drink cup, shattering and covering me and my car in glitter. As I come to an abrupt stop, my head hits the side window, the airbag crashes into my chest, I feel like I'm being stabbed in my right leg and all I can think is, my poor little babies made this glitter jar for me and I've ruined it. As all goes black in front of me, I see glitter raining down like the snow; and then there is nothing.
HIS POINT OF VIEW
Much to their regret, I decide to come to Aspen early. Work and the travel associated with it is killing me, but I love it. The weeks spent traveling the world have made me an international business man, feared and respected around the globe. For my company, the growth in business and money is unprecedented. Some people younger than me have inherited family wealth making them billionaires on paper. No one younger than me has acquired my level of wealth by hard work alone. I answer to no one, the master of my own universe.
My adrenalin runs freely as I acquire and merge companies around the world; it left little time for anything else. My few spare moments are spent alone and in the air. Gliding, flying my helicopter for pure joy; it's really ironic since at least a third of my time is spent on one of my jets traveling for business. On the jet, I'm not in control. In my glider or helicopter it's me and nature.
I've met with my management teams and decide to close a few days before Christmas and reopen after New Years. I need some down time. My brain needs rest. For that reason, I leave my family and come up the mountain to one of my favorite places on earth, my mountain home high above the town of Aspen. I rarely come here, and when I do my family is usually with me. They are coming, of course, but it'll be the day after Christmas. For the next few days, I'm alone.
There is security in the smaller cabin next door and everyone has orders to leave me alone.
My housekeeper is back the day after Christmas when my family arrives. She's stocked the pantry, fridge and freezer with meals I only have to heat and eat. She keeps this place running for me and her husband cares for the grounds. They've worked for me since I bought this house several years ago. It's their home year round; they've headed to Oregon to visit their grandchildren for the holidays. The house, although I don't get to visit much, feels lived in and like home.
The snow has been coming down for hours. Plows keep the roads clear, but there is nothing they can do when the snow is continually falling. They'll scrape in the morning and travel should be easy for anyone heading out on Christmas Day.
There's a tree decorated in the family room and I've placed my gifts around the base. I've never cared much for Christmas, especially not since I began to work. I see everyone I care for has not only what they need, but what they want throughout the year. Retail has turned this holiday into a fiasco and money making scheme, luring customer in to run up credit card debt and spend beyond their means. The following year they'd suffer the consequences for their spending spree's, but no one seemed to care, why should I. I have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes. After my start in life, I still have to remind myself on a regular basis, I am okay, I have plenty of food and money; my family loves me and no one can hurt me again.
I've just had an awesome steak; at least I'm capable of turning on the stovetop grill and flipping a piece of meat. Salad and veggies are already prepared and just waiting on me to plate.
The fire is roaring in the den and since it's dark out, I can no longer see the snow fall. I settle on the dark leather couch in front of the fire with a brandy and open my computer to check emails the first time today.
There's one from my mom, wishing me a Merry Christmas and saying she can't wait to spend the week here. My brother sent one, of course it opens with a naked Santa since he doesn't have a serious bone in his body. Well, except when it comes to his business sense. He's confined to the western United States, has more work than he could possibly do and just this year earned his first billion. I am so proud of him, always having looked up to him and now sharing so much of our lives as we take the world by storm. The Grey Brothers are a pair to be feared.
I must have fallen asleep, my head is back, my glass is empty and my computer beside me. What is that bumping noise? If I didn't know better, I'd swear someone is at the door. One of the front porch chairs must be banging in the wind.
I slip on my shoes and go to the door. The rhythm is too steady to be a chair in the wind. I flip on the lights to see what's going on.
When I open the door, I look back at the bottle of brandy checking how much I'd drank. Only one glass, that's what I thought.
I have to do a double take when there standing at my door, is the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, she is soaking wet, her face bruised and she's covered in glitter.
No sooner have I opened the door to ask how I could help her, she is falling into my arms, passed out cold. Now what do I do?
"Good morning, Mom, Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, sweetheart; you're up mighty early on Christmas morning."
"Mom, I need your help."
"What is it son? Are you trying to cook again?"
"No, no Mom; it's nothing like that. Listen, last night, around nine, a woman stumbled up to my door. Now don't laugh but she was soaking wet from the snow, bruised on her face, and get this, covered in glitter. As soon as I open the door, she passes out into my arms. Mom, she was soaked; I had to get her wet clothes off her; and when I did, her skin was like ice so I put her in a warm bath. She moaned a few times but never did fully wake. I dressed her in flannel pajama pants and a long sleeve t-shirt and put her in my bed under several blankets. I had a roaring fire going and her skin warmed but she won't wake up. I checked her over and it seems she has bruises on the left side of her face and a superficial cut on her right thigh and a few cuts on her right hand. She didn't have any identification and I have no idea what happened to her.
Should I take her to the hospital?"
"Son, she's been out nine hours; it's now six in the morning. If you can't wake her, you are going to have to get help for her."
"Mom, it's going to be impossible to get her out of the house; it's snowed all night and the roads won't be plowed for another hour or so, as soon as the sun comes up. Honest to God, mom, I think she's exhausted and just sleeping."
"Did you sleep with her, son?"
"What?" I scream into the phone; what kind of monster does my mother believe I am.
"Son, I didn't ask if you had sex with her, I asked if you slept in the bed beside her? Did she move at all during the night, has she moved her arms or legs during the night?"
"Oh, sorry Mom; yes, yes I did lay beside her all night. I haven't slept much, I watched her all night to make sure she was breathing. Once she warmed, her heart rate was normal and her breathing was deep and even. She did move a little during the night, her arms and legs, but she never turned over or tried to get up."
"Try to wake her, use a cool cloth on her face and if she doesn't open her eyes, you call 911 and have them at your house as soon as they can get there."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Honey, call me back if you need me, okay?"
"Thanks, Mom; I know I can always count on you."
"I love you son; we'll see you tomorrow."
"Love you, too, Mom; see you tomorrow."
I rush back to my bedroom and am shocked at what I see. Sitting on the side of my bed is the beautiful woman who fell into my arms last night. Long beautiful brown hair, the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen and the fear of God written all over her face.
As soon as she sees me she jumps under the blankets and begins to shiver.
"Pl...Please don't hurt me." She holds the blanket under her chin leaving just enough room for her to speak.
I hold both my hands up in surrender.
"I promise, I'm not going to hurt you; I want to help you. Do you remember what happened last night?"
"Um, I'm really thirsty, could I have some water please?"
"I'll do you one better, how about some juice?" Thank goodness for the mini-fridge in my master suite; it's come in handy more times than I can count.
I retrieve the juice and a glass from the cabinet and slowly walk toward her.
"I don't want to scare you; I promise, I'm an upstanding, law abiding citizen; I'm anti-gun all the way, there's not even one in the house. I'm going to put the juice and glass on the table beside you and let you reach for it."
"Thank you, sir." God, she's has the most beautiful, full, pink, lips I've ever seen.
I back up toward the chair by my bed and sit down a safe distance from her.
"So, do you remember last night?"
"I left the hotel to drive home and my glitter jar broke." Okay, makes no sense to me.
"Yeah, about that; you were covered in glitter from head to toe when you fell in my door."
She drinks her juice from the sealed bottle; at least she can be sure I didn't tamper with her drink.
"What do you mean, fell in your door?"
"Well, I had fallen asleep downstairs in front of the fire and heard something banging, I thought it was one of the rocking chairs banging against the house in the wind. I opened the door to check, and there you stood. I opened the door to ask how I could help you and you passed out into my arms. I brought you in, warmed you up, tried to remove as much glitter as possible and put you to bed. It seemed as if you were sleeping so I didn't bother you. I was about to call medic to come get you if I could not wake you. My mom is a doctor; I called her for advice and she told me if you would not wake I had to get you to the hospital."
"Why didn't you take me to the hospital last night? Wait, how did you warm me, and whose clothes do I have on? Oh God, we didn't ...you didn't..." She's having trouble speaking and I think she's having a panic attack. I jump up and sit by her on the bed.
"Breathe, just breathe in and out, slowly, in and out." Her crystal clear blue eyes pierce into mine; I will her to see that I won't hurt her. I reach for her hand that is resting on top of the blanket.
She immediately looks down to our hands and freezes, but does not pull back. I feel like my soul is bleeding into hers, as if I've connected with a missing part of myself. I'm first to pull away and our eyes meet again. A flash of sadness crosses her faces, as if she didn't want the touch to end.
"Do you remember anything else about last night?" I ask, trying to get her talking again.
"The glitter, I'm sorry about that. My kids made a jar of glitter for me and I'd forgotten it was in the car. I was driving home and couldn't see well but I knew the bad curve was ahead. Someone came down the mountain and I panicked, I slammed on breaks and my Jeep started to spin. I remember the glitter jar breaking." She reaches down and rubs her right thigh.
"You had a cut on your right thigh, nothing that needed stitches; I put a bandage on it for you. I guess it came from the broken glass."
"Do I dare ask where my wet clothes are and how you got to my thigh? I'm afraid to ask, but I think I deserve to know." She's gaining confidence the more she talks.
"When you fell into my door, literally into my arms, you were soaked and almost frozen. I'm a bit of an outdoorsman and since I have had a house here in Aspen, I insisted my family take a class on survival skills. You were never going to warm in your wet clothes." I glance at her to make sure she's still with me. She has her knee's pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She's protecting herself.
"I put you on my bed, ran a warm bath, undressed you; you can see the remnants of glitter on the duvet, let you soak in the bath until you were warm, dried you, dressed you and put you back to bed. Your skin began to warm and I laid down beside you, fully clothed mind you, and watched you sleep."
"So, you saw me without my clothes on?" "Oh my God," she mumbles hoping I won't hear. "Well there's not much to see, so I guess it's all right. You did save my life. I guess I can forgive you for one peek." She laughs nervously.
It's time to hold her hand again.
Taking her trembling hand into mine, I wait for her to look at me.
"I did what I had to do to save your life. There was nothing sexual about it and I tried my best to keep you covered at all times. I'd do it again and I hope and pray if I, or someone in my family were in your shoes last evening, the person I or they go to for help would actually help us."
"I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, I've never been naked in front of a man, or anyone for that matter." She drops her eyes as if she's ashamed of her admission.
"And I hope the first time you are; he'll be someone you love and who loves and worships you; and for the record, you are a beautiful woman. The observation was made when I opened the door last night and has nothing to do with me bathing you."
She smiles and we both release a little nervous laughter.
"You said you were going home last night. I promise I won't stalk you, but where to you live? I assume it's close by if you were driving up the mountain."
"What is your address here?"
"Thirty-two Glen Garry Drive; what's yours?"
"Wow, I'm about a half mile up the mountain on Maroon Creek Road. I'm renting the little cabin on the right that sits just off the road."
"Oh yes, I'm familiar with the property. I never go farther up the mountain than my turn off so I'm afraid I haven't been by there in a while."
She smiles and her stomach roars.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. If you'll tell me where my clothes are I'll be on my way. I can walk home from here."
"I hate to admit to you, I am not familiar with how to work the washer and dryer. Your clothes are in the washer waiting for my housekeeper to return tomorrow. By the way, Merry Christmas."
"On goodness, it is Christmas. Merry Christmas to you, too."
"Wow, I guess your family is wondering where you are; let me get my phone so you can call them."
"Um, actually, there is no one to call. I'm single and my parents live out of state. No siblings, no animals, not even a goldfish."
"I'd like to invite you to spend the day, here, with me. My big crazy family will be here tomorrow, and if you don't have anywhere to be, our motto is the more the merrier. Then you can see for sure I'm harmless. My mother would kill me if she thought I'd hurt someone after she's spent her life healing people."
"I tell you what," I say to her, "If you'll figure out the washer, I'll get us some breakfast, deal?" I want her to stay more than I've wanted anything in a while.
I hold my hand out to shake, selfishly so I can touch her again.
She looks at me and smiles. "I'll make a deal on one condition. My name is Anastasia Steele, everyone calls me Ana. And you are?"
"My name is..."
HER POINT OF VIEW
He gave me a sweat shirt, a clean pair of underwear and sweat pants to put on until I can get my clothes washed and dried.
I can't believe I'm staying in the home of a complete stranger, but he is a neighbor and there is something about him that makes me feel safe.
Even though the washer does not make a sound, I can see it working to wash my wet clothes.
I follow the smell of breakfast and find him with bacon on the griddle, eggs cooking and a bowl of fruit on the breakfast bar.
"Hi," I say to get his attention.
"Hello again. I hope bacon and eggs are fine for you. And toast; could you get the bread out of the cupboard?"
"Sure, I'd like to help?"
"You can do the toast, but please let me impress you with the two things I know how to cook, bacon on the griddle and scrambled eggs." His smile is so bright and hopeful. I can't help but smile back. There is something about him that feels familiar.
"So tell me about yourself; you said your children made the bottle of glitter, but then said you are single and alone; how many children do you have?"
I decide to have some fun with him; he's been so nice to me.
"I have twenty children, twelve girls and eight boys."
His hand stops in mid air as he stirs the eggs. He is speechless but has a smile on his face.
"Come again?"
"I teach twenty four-year-olds every day. The girls in my class made glitter globes and then poured left over glitter into a jar for me. That's what broke in the car last night. Oh no...my car!"
"Don't worry about it; I called the sheriff's office and they are going to look for your car."
"Thank you, for everything."
"I assure you, it's been my unexpected pleasure."
Breakfast goes by easily, his cupboard is stocked with my favorite English Breakfast Tea, so I feel right at home. I don't make friends easily and today, I feel as if I have a new friend. He doesn't have on a wedding band and I wouldn't dare ask if he has a girlfriend. I've already told him I'm a virgin, well not in so many words but I do believe you have to get naked to lose your virginity.
We move to the den after I clear the breakfast dishes, each of us with a fresh warm beverage, his coffee and mine tea.
The morning is spent talking. He tells me a little about his business, a little about his family and how busy he's been the last few months.
I share about my dad who is a police officer and my mom who is, absent from my life.
It seems he adores his family, especially his mom who he's spoken of often.
Just before lunch he gets a call and the sheriff reports my car is at the end of his street, near the ditch, covered in snow that's fallen and snow that's been plowed. The sheriff assured us it's safe saying there are so many emergency calls, he' like to wait until tomorrow to have a tow truck come and pull it out.
"Ana, no one should be alone on Christmas. Stay here in my home, you can do whatever you want. I won't bother you and you can spend the night and meet my crazy family tomorrow."
"Okay." It's out of my mouth before I have time to think. I've learned to treat Christmas like another day I've spent so many of them alone. This is a real treat for me.
"Let me show you around the house."
He gives me the tour and the first thing we notice is it's snowing again. I'm so glad I don't have to go out in this today.
We start downstairs where there's an indoor pool and jacuzzi, a theater room, and a room with a billiard table. The wall is glass and looks out over his back yard, and at the surrounding mountains.
On the main level is the kitchen, dining room, family room and a library. I audibly gasp when he opens the door.
"You're a reader?" He asks.
"I'm an English major, I've spent my life reading."
"Well, you feel free to spend all the time in here you'd like.
He flips a switch and the gas logs in the fireplace glow as fire dances over the logs.
We go back upstairs and he shows me six bedrooms. Each one has an en suite, each with garden tubs, some a little bigger than others but none as grande as his master suite.
"I don't mean to be rude or forward, but where is the misses?"
"My mother is in Seattle, Bellevue to be precise, along with my father and sister."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"There's not a misses, I am single as well. My career has taken all my time the last few years and my commitment is to my company and not to my personal life."
"Shame," I murmur; more loudly than I'd intended.
He looks me directly in the eye and smiles in a way that makes me want to fall in his arms again. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
We have a light lunch as he brings out a hearty beef stew we'll have for dinner. I excuse myself to his library and get lost in the books.
"Ana...Ana..." Once again I wake and I'm disoriented. There is a beautiful man standing over me, trying to get me to wake. It's my stranger, my new friend. He is the most handsome man I've ever seen. It would be nothing for him to lean down a little farther and wake me with a kiss.
"Yes, sir?"
"Good, you're awake. Listen, my brother called to say he'd be here for dinner. He's left home early and wanted to get here before dark."
"I'll get my things and leave, then."
"Don't be ridiculous, I want you to be awake so I can introduce you. And you've slept about two hours. I want you to be able to sleep tonight."
I sit up and decide to ask a question that's worried me all day.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, you can ask me anything."
"Last night, while I slept, did I seem to sleep soundly?"
"You did, it's why I watched you, I wanted to be sure you were okay."
"I...I didn't seem to be dreaming?"
"Are you asking if you had a nightmare? If so, you didn't; you were very peaceful as you slept."
"Oh, okay...I normally don't sleep very well."
"I completely understand."
I get up and run upstairs and change into my now dry clothes. When I get to the bedroom, I see there are a few extra things on the bed. He must have a woman who stays here with him.
There is a knock at the door; since I haven't undressed I ask him to come in.
He pushes the door open and leans into the bedroom.
"I rummaged through the closet and drawers and found some things you might like." How dare he share a woman's clothes that she left here. I have more self-respect than that.
"My clothes are dry now, I'm fine," I say a little more ungrateful than I intended.
He can tell I'm not happy with his offer.
"Hey," he walks in and closes the door. "The clothes were left by my sister. She'll be here tomorrow, you can ask her. Or I'll take you to her room and show you her things she's left here."
"I'm sorry. My imagination got the best of me."
"Ana, I've never had a woman here. I've never met anyone I wanted to share this part of my life with." He's so close and I've found I don't think well when I can feel him near me.
"Why are you being so kind to me? I could easily get home from here."
"But I have you here now, and I don't want you to go." His words awaken parts of my body that have been dormant far too long.
I'm speechless, of course, caught in his spell.
"I'll let you get changed." And he's gone.
I get changed and actually get my hair to cooperate. I have a great new cut and my dark hair falls over my shoulders and down my back.
He's sitting in the den in front of the fire with a glass of wine. There's an empty glass beside the bottle.
"Wine?" He asks.
"I'd love some, thank you."
He hands me the glass and I take a sip; it's the best I've ever had.
We sit and conversation comes easy.
"I can't believe we've never run in to each other in town, or at the grocery." I say.
He shakes his head.
"At the risk of sounding arrogant, there is a couple who lives here year round. My house and grounds keepers. I like the house to be ready for me to come anytime. My housekeeper does all my grocery shopping. She a great cook but I do normally find myself in town for dinner at least once while I''m here."
We hear car doors closing and voices coming from outside.
"Hold on, a whirlwind is about to enter."
Not sure what I should do, I keep my seat and have another sip of wine.
I can't see the door but I easily hear the voices.
"Hey bro, how you doin'?"
"Great, man; how about you?"
"I'm glad you're here, I have someone I want you to meet."
"There my girl!" I hear murmuring but can't make out the response.
"Hello to you, too!" I hear a woman respond and then a little girl giggles.
"Mommy, he's talking to me, not to you."
I hear multiple footsteps approaching so I stand to meet the family.
For the second time in two days, I sway on my feet and think I might pass out.
He comes around the couch and puts an arm around my waist. My body melts into his side. He asks if I'm okay the same time the little girl starts screaming.
"Miss Steele, what you are doing at my uncle's house?" I look from her to her mother.
"Ana, what's going on?"
I'm at a loss for words; my hero comes through once more.
HIS POINT OF VEIW
"You two know each other?" I say to my brothers wife.
"We do, she's Samantha's teacher."
He picks up my student and blows strawberries on her belly making her laugh and squeal.
"So it's YOU young lady who's responsible for all the glitter!"
"How do you know about my glitter?" She asks.
"Ana, it seems like you know at least part of my family. You obviously know Samantha and my sister-in-law Kate; I'd like to introduce you to my brother Elliott."
"Mr. Grey, it's so nice to meet you. I adore Samantha."
"Miss Steele, I feel like I know you, Kate and Samantha talk about you all the time. So how do you know my brother?"
Christian speaks up saying he'll explain everything.
He spends the next few minutes telling Elliott, Kate and Samantha about my accident, how I staggered to his door, wet, bruised and covered in glitter. He tells them we are neighbors and that he's asked me to stay through Christmas to meet his family. We all laugh about the glitter, Elliott goes on and on laughing.
"Are you Uncle Christian's girlfriend, Miss Steele?" Samantha's asks; 'Out of the mouth of babes' they say.
"We are just friends right now." Christian tells her with a smile.
He looks over to me and takes my hand, giving it a squeeze.
To this day he hasn't let go of me.
I did stay through Christmas, Christmas Day and our entire school vacation up to New Year's Day. Christian and I would steal glances and accidentally on purpose sit by each other as much as we could. His family caught on quickly and they helped us.
We have long talks in front of the fire, and by New Year's, it feels like we've know each other forever. Sadly, Christian is leaving to go back to Seattle on the day after New Years and the following day, Samantha and I return to school.
The week I spent with the Grey's was the best week of my life. I felt like part of a family. Toward the end of the week, as I was reading in the library, Grace, Christian's mom came in and sat with me. We had spoken casually all week but I felt I owed her an explanation of my lack of family.
I broke down telling her about my mom and she held me and let me cry. No one has ever done that for me before. My mom never acted concerned with me and then when I went to stay with my dad in ninth grade, I found he was very selfish with his hugs. I know he felt as if he touched me I'd think of husband number three. I wouldn't have, because I know Ray Steele loves me, like a daddy should love their daughter. Like Elliott loves Samantha.
On New Year's Eve we have a ton of fireworks; the men set them up on the driveway in front of the house. A professional would not have done a better job than the Grey men, our show is spectacular.
It begins to snow with a little freezing rain so we head in for the midnight celebration. We have hats and horns and glasses of champagne for our toast.
I find myself beside Christian as the countdown draws near. The closer we get to midnight, the closer he gets to me. And the countdown begins...Ten-he moves close enough for us to touch; nine-he reaches for my hand; eight-he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze; seven-he lets go of my hand and places his on the small of my back; six-he moves his hand to my side and pulls me to him; five-he gazes down into my eyes, four-he turns to stand in front of me, three-he leans down, asking permission with his expression, two-I look up at him, placing my hand on his neck to pull him toward me; one-'HAPPY NEW YEAR', everyone screams!
"Happy New Year, Anastasia; I hope this is the first day of the rest of our lives together." And then he finally kisses me. Soft and gentle at first, then his tongue runs along my lips asking permission to enter. My mouth opens on it's own, granting him access to my mouth, my heart and my soul, forever.
The year has gone by so quickly, and here we are at Christmas Eve again; one year since my accident in the snow at the end of Christian's street. He's tried multiple times to describe how I looked when I fell into his arms that night. I was soaking wet, the left side of my face was bruised and I was covered in glitter. If only he'd taken a picture.
We figured out I must have passed out in the car for several hours; or I may have been in shock. When I got out, I remembered thinking I had to find help. Fate took me down the street to Christian's driveway instead of up the mountain to my cabin. My car had run out of gas. The police officer felt the car must have kept running, keeping me warm; once the car was off and I felt cold I woke and tried to find help. There was a good two to three feet of snow on the ground and the drifts were much higher. If I'd have passed out before I reached Christian's door that night; I'd have surely died.
Christian's family left on New Year's Day and I stayed with him until he left the day after. The chemistry and connection we felt with each other was unmistakable, everyone could see it.
He begged me to come to Seattle with him and I refused, telling him my life for the foreseeable future is in Aspen, teaching my four year olds. We spent every weekend together, he flew to Aspen or had his jet waiting on me as soon as I get out of school on Friday to take me to Seattle. Several times, Kate and Samantha come with me to Seattle and a few weekends, it's just Samantha with me. Her grandparents would be waiting to pick her up at the airport. Kate and I became great friends and Elliott, he's a character!
I discovered the first time I go to Seattle, the second week in January, I am dating a billionaire. Shocked does not describe my feelings when I find out. Elliott also earned his first billion last year. I came from nothing. I mean, I've never gone without more than one meal and I've always had a roof over my head. My needs were met, but until I spent time with the Grey's, I didn't realize how much I missed out on coming from a broken home and being an only child.
Christian told me his income after I freaked out when I got home after my first visit to Seattle and had a brand new loaded Range Rover in my driveway, I decided it was his money; he could do with it as he pleased.
We made a date for Valentine's Day to spend the weekend in Aspen. I did't have any experience with men and I knew I would not fall into bed with the first man I felt comfortable dating. This weekend, we've decided to take our relationship to the next level. There is no doubt in my mind I'm in love with Christian and I can't imagine being with anyone else. He has been very patient with me and as we've each discussed our past, we have decided to take things slow. I'm ready and I know he will be gentle with me.
When he arrived on Friday afternoon, it was still a few hours before dinnertime. His kiss when he arrived escalated quickly and we made love for the first time. I have never felt so loved and cared for. By the end of the weekend, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life with Christian Grey.
The next weekend, he returned to Aspen. Something was on his mind and he tried to make me think everything was fine. We stayed at my cabin that night. I cooked dinner and we made love in my bed, in front of the fire, planning to go to his house on Saturday morning.
On Saturday, we get up and dress, have breakfast and head to his house. As we approached his front door, he stops me.
"Wait Ana, we can't go in."
"What's going on Christian, I know something is on your mind."
"I need to talk to you about something."
"You are scaring me, Christian, what is it?"
"It was right here in this very spot," he said as we stand at the front door on the porch. "This is where you first fell into my arms. You fell into my life, my heart and my soul. I never believed I'd find someone like you. I love you with everything I am and everything I have. I'll never love another woman as long as I live. We've known each other just short of two months, but I feel as if I've known you all your life. Would you do me the incredible honor," he drops to one knee. "Will you marry me, spend the rest of your life with me; will you be my wife?"
I am in shock, he wants me? He wants me forever? I never dreamed this would happen to me.
"Ana?"
"Yes, yes I'll spend my life with you, I'll be your wife!"
He slides a perfectly round six carrot diamond on my left ring finger. I'll not only have to insure the ring, but insure my finger!
He stands and we kiss, it's almost inappropriate for the front porch.
A million thoughts are running through my mind as he opens the front door? My dad will be so disappointed if Christian didn't talk to him. Where will we get married; WHEN will we get married? Where will we live?
Christian has my hand and is leading me in the door when I look up and see a huge crowd of people yelling, 'surprise'.
I don't know who to speak to first.
"Happy engagement baby." He whispers behind my ear.
"You did all this?"
"I sure did." I am so impressed.
The first person to get to me is my daddy. "Oh Daddy, did Christian talk to you?"
"He did Annie. I made him convince me he is worthy of you. I gave him my blessing to marry you. I love you Annie and I'm so proud of you."
"I love you, too, Daddy."
Christian's entire family is here as well as the usual security and staff.
Mrs. Bentley, who I met the week after Christmas has a lovely brunch prepared and we celebrate with our family through the weekend.
At the end of the school year, I resigned my job as teacher and move to Seattle. Christian insists I move in with him and considering we are getting married a few weeks later, I agree.
We have a beautiful wedding the second week of June and spend the next month touring Europe. Ros, Christian's right hand at work, kept the company running and when we returned, she took the month of August off.
I decide on our honeymoon, I'd take the year off from teaching and spend the year learning how to be a wife and Mrs. Christian Grey.
Neither Christian or I could have dreamed what the future would hold.
HIS POINT OF VIEW
"Penny for your thoughts?" My husband sits beside me on the couch handing me a fresh cup of tea. "You've been so deep in thought," he observes.
"It was a year ago today."
"Best day of my life." He says.
"Mine, too."
"I have a little surprise for you." He hands me the signature blue velvet box from Cartier.
"I thought we are waiting till morning to open presents?"
"This one is not a Christmas present."
I glare at him, there is hardly a week goes by he does not bring me home flowers, candy, or some type of little gift. The lid of the box clicks open and I gasp.
"Christian!" My voice cracks as tears of joy spring from my eyes.
"Let me help you." He takes the silver chain from me and places it around my neck. Hanging from the chain now resting on my chest is a miniature globe full of blue glitter.
"Happy Anniversary, baby." He says and gently kisses me. "You've made me the happiest man on earth. I never thought I'd have the life we have together." He gently rubs my belly where a bump is starting to show.
"Everyone will know when they see the glitter," I tell him.
We found out on Ana's birthday in September we are pregnant. This week we found out it's a boy and I could not be happier.
"We're telling them, if they guess before they open their gifts it will be fine." Each member of our family is getting a sonogram picture of our little boy.
"That's true. I love the necklace Christian. And I love you."
"I love you too, my glitter girl."
~~~The End~~~