Chapter 18

A/N: Is the identity of the actress playing Elena Lincoln a secret, I have looked on several sites and can't find who they chose to play her, does anyone out there know?

Please forgive the delay in posting. Life, it happens.

I was so blown away with the reviews that chapter 17 received. I can never guess how you guys will react. I give up trying to predict.

This is not proofed. Hope you enjoy.

~oo0oo~

Recap and narration: In the last chapter Ana expressed her pent up hurt on Christian's office, destroying the office the way she felt her heart and been destroyed. It's been almost two months since that fateful day. They have had little contact, each dealing and coping in their own way.

Three months after the fall, Friday, of Labor Day weekend.

Christian

Standing with my back to the stunning vista of Puget Sound's natural beauty; I keenly survey the recent renovations to my home office. The feel is different, not quite so…imposing. I wanted something warmer than I had in here before; I shake my head wistfully, before I callously destroyed my wife's heart and she in turn demonstrated that pain here in my office. None of the staff, not one, forewarned me of the devastation I would find when I stepped into my office. I can't say I am surprised or even angry about their silence, they were as pissed with me as anyone. Viewing the now renovated space I let my memory of that day filter through my brain.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

They're gone. Ana and Teddy are in the air headed to a future that doesn't include me, and that just fucking hurts. Much like the night after my dinner at SkyCity I can't face Escala. So after leaving the airfield, after holding my son tight and promising him that I would see him very soon, after watching my wife hug and kiss everyone goodbye except for me, she won't even look at me. I have Taylor take me to Grey Meadow. Since making the decision to sell the penthouse I try to spend as little time there as possible.

"Grey Meadow Taylor." I instruct as we leave the private jet airfield at SeaTac. He looks as if he wants to say something but bites it back, and gives me a tight nod instead. On the ride to the house I tap out a short text to Ana to let her know of my intension to spend some time at Grey Meadow. I know she won't receive it until she lands, and if she objects I'll leave, go to Bellevue or the Fairmont….shit, not the Fairmont. That's off limits, I won't risk any contact with Paige. I guess it will be Bellevue, and in all honesty I want to be around loved ones, the isolation and loneliness is starting to get to me. I wonder how I lived that way for so long, closed off in self imposed isolation, now, as I look back on it that existence was pitiful, a desperate attempt to preempt the rejection I thought would surly come if anyone knew the real Christian.

"Give me fifteen minutes, then, gather the staff I want to address some things." I instruct Taylor once we are headed into the house. It feels off once I am inside, I can't pin down the feeling, but something isn't right, something besides the fact that Ana and Teddy aren't here. I push it to the back of my mind and take the stairs two at a time; I want to see if Ana has packed everything of hers and Ted's. I am hoping against hope that she has left some things behind. I'm going to take that as a sign that this is not permanent, that she means to return at some point in the future, 'any port in the storm', so the saying goes. Reaching our bedroom I snatch open the door and charge to her dressing room. I stand their chest heaving, out of breath. I am extraordinarily fit, so I doubt it was the short burst of exertion that has me breathless, I am sure that it is the fact that there are still clothes that belong to my wife occupying her closet. I whip around and eye her chest of drawers, more sedately I stalk the dresser, and actually stop myself as I grip one of the handles. It feels like I am about to violate her privacy, but I have to see, did she clear out everything, or did she leave just a touch of her here for me. I drop my hand back to my side. Be a better man, control myself and trust. Turning, I go to my dresser and open the top drawer and retrieve the items I placed there.

On my way back to my office I stop by Teddy's room. As I open the door I can see that there are lots of his toys and books still in their rightful place, and I let that buoy my hope that he will someday return to play in this space. Now to the task at hand, I need to get these in the safe and get things settled with the staff. From Ted's room I take the back stairs to my study, passing the security suite on my way. I see that Taylor has everyone gathered there, but I don't stop. Heading quickly to my office I am surprised as I turn the knob only to find the door is locked. That's strange, I don't remember locking it. Fishing out my keys I unlock the door and am assaulted by the tableau of rage before me.

"What the…..who….?" I don't realize I've spoken aloud until I hear Taylor behind me.

"Ana, after your meeting yesterday."

I don't turn or acknowledge him in any way. I just stare, unblinking, disbelieving at the level of rage unleashed in here. I spin suddenly taking Taylor by surprise nearly knocking him to the ground and race for the stairs, No, the only word on repeat in my head. Once back in our bedroom I don't hesitate, I reach for the drawer handle and tear it open with such force it comes completely away from the dresser. Empty. I pull the next, empty, and the next, empty. No, no, no, no!

"Fuuuuccckk!" Rips ragged from my throat, and before I know it I have sunk to my knees utterly despondent. I don't know how long I stay in that position, from the stiffness in my back and neck I'd say quite a long time. Dragging myself to my feet I lumber to my study. I feel dead inside. Touring the wreckage of my office, I stoop to pick up her engagement and wedding rings and charm bracelet where I dropped them in the shock of seeing the decimation of my study. I finally get the depth of hatred Ana must feel toward me. The acrid smell of burnt paper and chemical retardant stings my nostrils, the sound of shattered glass crunch under my feet, and the feel of rough carved wood scratch my fingertips, the indictment raw and heart wrenching in its simplicity, 'you hurt me', sears a brand on my heart.

"I wanted you to see it just the way she felt it." I look up to see Taylor standing in the doorway."Gail wanted to clean it up before you saw it, but I knew you needed so see it the way she left it, so that maybe you'd finally understand what you've done." He turns and leaves not interested in my response, one of which I did not have.

Present day

I left the study the way I found it for over a week, not until I returned from my first trip to Savannah did I have Elliot come by to talk about the renovation.

"Oh shit," he chuckles. "That was one pissed off little mama. Can I take pictures for my scrapbook?" Fucker thinks he's funny.

Ignoring his jabs and taunts, I tell him what I want done, and more importantly what I don't. I don't want them to touch the desk, I want the tattooed wood to stay as is. To that end I have decided to keep the carving in my desk, 'You hurt me', as raw as the day it was gouged into the wood. I run my fingers across the letters, tracing each rough hewn word.

Instead of replacing the seating group with the leather that was their prior, I opted for soft grey chenille, so that when Teddy is spending time with me in here he will have somewhere soft to sit or nap. Every thought or decision I make henceforth will be with my wife and son in mind, their peace, their comfort, their well-being. Should we ever be a whole family again, and I am holding on tightly to that thin thread of hope, they will know they have my total and absolute devotion.

I pieced together the charred remains of our wedding picture like some sort of macabre jigsaw puzzle. I don't hang it, but it is not far, so that I can pull it out and remind myself when needed.

After four consecutive weekends in Savannah I decide to purchase a four bedroom house in the same gated community where Carla and Bob's mini-manse is located. Cash, so the purchase goes through with very little trouble. Friday's are shot for the foreseeable future, I leave Seattle mid-morning so that I arrive in Savannah by evening. So that Ted and I are not always at the mercy of others to feed us, I have had Gail teach me to make a few simple meals. So far I can scramble up a mean skillet of eggs, and a wholesome pot of oatmeal. Since Teddy is into finger food she also taught me how to cut up boneless chicken breast roll them in egg and dredge them in breadcrumbs and bake them off. She tells me to make sure to cut Teddy's fruit into small pieces so that he doesn't choke. I am determined to be hands on with Teddy's care since my time with him is so limited. The only staff I'll have there, beside security, is a cleaning lady who'll come on Friday afternoon to ready the house for the weekend. I want to be totally hands on with him during the time I have him. He's two years old, how hard can it be?

It hadn't dawned on me that Teddy was right at the age to start toilet training. Our second weekend together he shocked the shit out of me when he said 'pee pee, pee pee' while hopping around. I quickly scoop him up and dash to the bathroom ripping his shorts down to find a weird diaper like thing on him. What the hell is this I mutter to myself or so I thought.

"Pu up" He grins. I stare at him blankly. "What, son?" Uh, poo, does he have to shit? Oh God, no, please.

"Pee pee, Daddy!" That snaps me back into action, and I pull down the weird paper underwear.

"Up, up," he stretches his arms up for me to lift him, so I lift him up and point him at the toilet and wait. After a second or two, he turns his head to me his expression as confused as my own. "No, sit Daddy, sit." Oh, realization smacks me in the face, and I quickly sit him on the seat as I hold on to him so that he doesn't fall in. Just in the nick of time, because no sooner does his butt hit the commode and he pushes his little wiener down, huh, do I hear a little stream falling. When he is done he is all smiles, so proud of himself. I smile too.

"Yaaayyy," he cheers while clapping his hands. "Pee pee dance Daddy," he says as he jumps up and down and around in a circle. I watch, eyes stretched wide, I'm, not, doing the pee pee dance.

"Ok, Tedster, let's get those hands washed Buddy." I try and guide his enthusiasm. Once I get him bathed and in bed I'm texting Ana and calling my mom, I'm going to need some help with this. I text Ana asking when she had started potty training and why hadn't she given me a heads up so that I would be ready. Then I call Grace to find out how I should go about this. She tells me that most of all consistency is important, but to take my cues from Teddy. That I should go out and get a little potty seat that we can sit right next to the regular toilet, and a seat that goes over the toilet seat and find which one Teddy is most comfortable using. She also tells me to keep wet wipes next to the toilet as dry toilet paper can be a messy affair, when wiping someone else's hiney. Hiney?

'Oh great," I moan. She finds this immensely amusing. I'm concerned that he wants to sit when peeing, boys stand. But she tells me that it's ok for him to sit until he has better control, and to take him in with me when I go so he can see how big boys do it. My immediate thought is…every time I go….surly she doesn't mean that, but I can't ask, that's gross. Ok, I can do this, I have to, he's my son, and it's my job to teach him. I thank her and look on line for a store that I can go pick up all the equipment I'll need. The memory brings a smile.

My family has rallied around me a bit more since Ana's been in Georgia. Elliot and Mia came around slowly, Kate not so much. She and I manage to keep our interactions civil, but just barely, and that's just fine with me. Ana has made new friends in Savannah. Chellie, (the spelling as pretentious as she is) Bob's extremely annoying niece, is the ring leader of their little crew. Michelle LeClair, Chellie's full name, is every bit as confident, direct, and obnoxious as Katherine Kavanaugh. I don't have solid proof, but I'd bet my left nut that she is pushing Ana to 'get-out-there', meet men, and date. Bitch.

That stupid fucking assignment John gave me has surprisingly assisted me and Mia to become close again. At first I had no intentions of doing what he asked of me. I felt that he was trying to make a fool of me, trying to amuse himself at my expense, so fuck him I wasn't doing it. But as the weeks past I couldn't stand the chasm that had grown between me and my baby sister and would do anything to fix it. I knew Elliot and I would be fine, eventually, but Mia not speaking to me, or wanting anything to do with me was more than I could take, right up there with Ana not wanting anything to do with me. So one evening I drop by Bellevue unexpected. Grace, of course, is delighted and invites me to stay and have dinner, which I eagerly accept. When Gretchen comes in the kitchen giving me 'the look' all moon-eyed and goofy, I beat a hasty retreat and go look for Mia or my dad. Finding Mia in the family room watching a movie and talking on her cell, I am apprehensive of her reaction, so I enter the family room tentatively, really wanting to spend some time with her. At first she doesn't acknowledge me; I sit trying to figure out what she is watching, but once I see Adam Sandler I reach for the remote.

"Hey, I'm watching that." She barks.

"No you're not, you're talking on your cell, and eating chips and salsa, which you know you are not supposed to have in here."

"Lily, I'll call you back….yeah….no, I'm not telling him you said 'hi',…..whatev." She says while rolling her eyes, "Bye." She taps to end the call.

"Hate to tell you Mia, but you just told me she said 'hi'." I hook my fingers around 'hi'.

"What." She asks confused, then shakes her head. "You can't come in here and just stop the movie I was watching." Well at least I've got her talking to me.

"C'mon Mia, it was Adam Sandler, that shit will fry all your brain cells."

"So what, you are such a snob." She says eyeing me with distain. "It's 50 First Dates and it's actually really good." Did she say '50' first dates? Hmmm? And a pang of sadness washes over me.

"I'm sure it is," I say sarcastically trying to banish the feelings. "When did you become a movie critic?"

"When you became an asshole, so I guess I've been one all my life." Touche, good one Mia I think to myself. "I know you don't think I am smart or have much to contribute, but you're wrong." She counters.

"Mia, why would you say that," The mood in the room changing, "I know you are smart, very smart," I say. "I think you're winsome, excitable and easily distracted by shiny objects, and if you ever got serious about something you would take the world by storm."

She stares at me mouth hanging open. In the silence we hear the music as the credits roll. It's that rendition of 'Over the Rainbow' with the ukulele.

"I love this version of 'Over the Rainbow." I say as I look at the TV.

"It's 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel 'IZ' Kamaka-something-I-don't-know-how-to-pronounce, Hawaiian, Somoan or something like that. Oooh, wait a minute." She hops from the couch to get her lap top. "Look at this." She says excitedly tapping keys for a few seconds and then we hear the first strains of the song and a YouTube video playing on our parent's huge flat screen TV.

And for a few minutes I am totally caught up in the video. Damn he died young. But he did leave something beautiful behind.

I look over at Mia and she's all teary eyed. Oh Lord. I really don't want to deal with her crying. So I take a non-sentimental left turn.

"So, I'm a snob and an asshole, you left out selfish bastard." One of the self loathing traits I listed for Flynn's homework, and now I am doing the second part of the despised assignment, telling a family member or close friend what I think of myself.

"Yeah, I forgot that one." She says half joking, but once she sees I am serious her tone changes. "Christian," she calls to get me to look at her. "Do you really see yourself as a selfish bastard?"

"Yes."

She crinkles her brow. "Shit, Christian, everybody is selfish about something, everybody's been an asshole a time or two, or in your case, three." I get another little half smirk.

"No, Mia, I am profoundly fucked up, and I know it, but I am working on it." I say earnestly. "I have to if I ever hope to…..

Just then Gretchen comes in interrupting us and announces dinner is ready, looking only at me.

"Good gravy, is she still holding a torch for you?" Mia asks when she is out of ear shot. I make a disgusted face but don't vocalize an answer. As we are leaving the family room Mia strikes the back of my knee with her own dropping me to the floor.

"Dammit Mia! Are you twenty-something or twelve." I chide, not half as irritated as I sound; I get back to my feet. She takes one look at my face and starts backpedalling she whips around and sprints for the kitchen calling loudly for our mom, with me in hot pursuit, intent on giving her a big brother pounding.

Taking one last glance around the office, satisfied with the finished results, I hit the com-system and let Taylor and Gail know it's time to go. Excited to get to Georgia and spend the long holiday weekend with my son, I've got big plans for lots of fun.

Once we are comfortable and in flight I pull out the detailed background check I tasked Welch with getting on the good Dr. Harper after that so called marriage counseling session. It must be the tenth time I've read it. The results of which has me seriously considering putting a tail on him.

"Cream, lightly sweet my ass," I mutter under my breath. That fucker was not talking about how he takes his coffee. He's bitten, I know the look. What I pray, is that he'll never know how sweet her cream really is. If I have anything to say about it he never will.

~o0o~

Ana

True to his word, Christian has been in Savannah every weekend since our departure from Seattle. He arrives Friday evening and leaves Sunday night. I haven't laid eyes on him but our son comes home Sunday evening exhausted but excited and happy to have spent time with his father. I make sure to be somewhere else during Teddy's pick up and drop off, not wanting to risk a chance encounter. We communicate solely through email, text message, or family members. I know that he is staying at the house on the Sound, as he texted me before I landed in Georgia informing me of his intentions. He has yet to make mention of the carnage I inflicted in his study, the afternoon of that disastrous first marriage counseling session.

I wonder to myself what I'll say when he does broach the subject. I know for damn sure it won't be, 'I'm sorry', because I'm not. What I couldn't say in words I expressed through physical destruction, and it felt good, no, glorious. I left the house that afternoon a hundred pounds lighter. He should understand that, he's the 'master' of expression through physical conquest; I muse and roll my eyes at the thought. Shaking my head I try and banish the images flitting through my mind. It's been three long dry months and over the past couple of weeks the hunger has been getting stronger. Not since before my sexual awakening have I gone this long without being sated. Shower head notwithstanding, it's an appetizer, and I'm ready for a seven course meal. And distraction and redirection is not working very well.

The day before my third wedding anniversary Carla, sensitive as a dump truck, decides to jump me, asking how long I was going to walk around in a blue funk.

"A blue funk," I repeat incredulously. "Is that what you think I'm in? A. Blue. Funk." I taste each word and find them bitter. I don't even know what that is.

"Ana." She says trying for apologetic. "I'm sorry if that sounded like I am trivializing the way you're feeling, that's not what I intended. It's just that you seem to be in a rut, baby girl. You've been here almost a month and have barely left the house. If not for taking Teddy to the park, occasionally, you wouldn't leave the house at all."

"That might not be what you intended, but that is exactly what you did." I glare at her. "I'm sorry if I am not getting over the death of my marriage fast enough for you. Oh, but how could I forget, husbands are as interchangeable for you as," I wave my hand in the air searching for the right noun, "… .belts."

"Stop it Ana. You know that is not what I mean." She looks like she is about to cry, and I feel bad. "Frank died, for heaven's sake. I do feel bad that things didn't work out with Ray, and Stephen….well, that was a mistake." She says quietly. I blanch at the mention of Husband Number 3, the man she cheated on Ray with, then married in foolhardy haste. "I was just trying to say that you might feel better if you got out and got a change of perspective. I know Chellie has asked you out for drinks a couple of times, you should go, it might be fun."

"Mom, this is absolutely the wrong day to approach me about socializing with Chellie." I mutter still peeved with her. "Teddy is down for his nap, I think I'll join him," effectively ending the conversation.

So after a week of Carla trying to get me to get out of the house I finally accept an invitation to Saturday lunch with Bob's niece Chellie. I've known Chellie for several years, we met not long after mom and Bob moved to Savannah. She's nice enough, but we never actually hit it off. She's a lot like Kate in that she is direct, sharp tongued, and gorgeous, but there is something fake about her, pretentious. I wouldn't turn my back on her with anything I loved, not to mention I think she was offended that I didn't invite her to my wedding. But, as I know no one else my age here, I'll allow my first foray into Savannah social life with her as my guide.

"Hey Ana," Chellie croons in her strong Georgia accent, sweeping into the foyer, pulling her sunglasses on top of her head. "Cute dress, good idea, it's brutal out there." She hugs me quickly. I'm wearing a white eyelet shift dress, with brown leather wedge sandals, and silver accessories.

"Thanks, Chellie, good to see you again." I say a little uncomfortable, though I'm not sure why. "I'm ready, just let me grab my keys and sunglasses."

"Is your mom or Uncle Bob here?" She questions.

"No, they're out for the afternoon."

"Oh, where's your baby boy? She looks around me.

"With his dad," I glance at her warily.

"Here, I mean, in Savannah?" Her eyebrows shooting to her hairline.

I just stare. Why is that any of her business.

"C'mon, let's go," I finally manage.

It's not until we are well on our way toward Historic Savannah that Chellie lets slip that we'll be joining a few of her good friends for the afternoon. Great, I think to myself. I'm not in the mood for Chellie, let alone any of her friends. Ugh. For the remainder of the ride she points out sites of interest, and word vomits different historical facts about Savannah. Sliding out of her Lexus the August Georgia heat is suffocating, and makes me cranky…alright, crankier.

"How do you live in this unbearable heat," I moan. I just want to get inside where it is cooler. Entering the Hyatt Regency all I can think is, thank God for central air, but my relief is short lived. By a few friends Chellie meant 16 to 20 Georgia socialites. Shit. And it looks like I am the guest of honor.

"Hey Peaches." Chellie sings. "I'd like y'all to meet my cousin." Cousin? I guess, well technically we are, but….."Everyone this is Ana Grey, Ana these are the Peaches." She's all smiles. I'm feeling ambushed and have half a mind to turn around a leave. I turn my head in search of Sawyer and see him slide onto a stool at the bar. Good, I don't know how long I'll be able to take this.

"We'll be talking about this." I hiss at Chellie through a brittle smile.

I meet no fewer than three Ambers, a slew of Jennifers, a Peyton, and an actual Buffy. I side step prying inquiries about everything from my length of stay to annoyingly heartfelt 'how ya holdin' up Sweetie.' I've been invited to every tea and pool party in within a ten mile radius, and I simply have to come to the event of the season, a monster Labor Day barbeque slash wine tasting hosted by some upper crust, muckety-muck family, southern hospitality at its most aggressive. After two hours I can take no more, signaling Sawyer, I say goodbye to Chellie and a few of the 'Peaches' and try not to bolt for the door, as I take my leave.

Over the next couple of weeks I manage to duck Chellie and the nutty Peaches, but as luck would have it, Bob and my mom are invited to the big Labor Day bash and want me to accompany them. I told her no, but an unexpected encounter and a lie has me backed into a corner. That is why I'm in this over priced boutique looking for a Great Gatsby themed frock.

Yesterday I fled my mom's to give Christian time to and space to pick up Teddy. He usually arrives no later than 7pm, so I figured at 8 o'clock I was good to return. Entering the house through the kitchen door with a large pizza and a six pack of beer, I am shocked to hear Teddy shouting "Mommy home" as he barrels into the kitchen. I freeze wondering why Christian hasn't picked him up yet. Three thoughts hit me at once, 'Why would he back out on his son at the last minute?', 'Oh, no, has something happened to him', and the last and correct one, 'He's here, in the house,' and as if on cue he walks into the kitchen, my mother trailing him.

"Daddy here Mommy, Daddy here!" He's so excited; it's been a while since he's seen us in the same place, a whole family.

"Ana," His voice warm and smooth as carmel. My senses return and I realize I am still holding the pizza box and beers.

"Um, I got a pizza," I say to no one in particular.

"Yay," Teddy squeals climbing into his booster seat. "Peetha!" Booster seat rocking as he kicks his legs.

"Hey, careful there big guy," Christian reaches for him. "We have big plans; you don't want to be in the ER this weekend do you?"

A confused, cute as clouds scowl cross his little face while his two year old mind contemplates this, then he decides. "Uh, uhn, no E'd R." God I love this little boy, I'd love him even if he weren't my son, I think as I watch their interaction.

"So I guess you're staying for pizza."

"I guess I am." He smiles that million dollar smile. I look around for Carla, only to find she has discreetly departed the kitchen. I get out plates as Christian opens the pizza box lifting a slice for me to cut for Teddy.

"Beer?"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks." He reaches for the beer without trying to graze my hand. I raise my eyebrow puzzled but say nothing. Teddy chatters endlessly as Christian and I awkwardly avoid each other's glances. It's weird because there is so much unsaid, unresolved between us, and we sit here trying to pull of this happy family scene.

"You should join us, I've got a full weekend of fun planned for me and Ted," His voice full of hope, "and Gail is in town with Taylor this trip; I'm sure they would both love to see you."

I smile sweetly at Teddy while ruffling his hair, "No, you boys go and have a great weekend, do all sortsa boy things that mommies don't like." I play got'cha nose with Ted, while sliding a nasty glare at Christian. "Besides, I already have plans," I lie. "Mom and Bob have invited me to a thing that one of Bob's client's is hosting." He doesn't have to know I have no intention on attending. "I'll call Gail and see it we can't meet somewhere and catch up." He just nods.

"All done Ted," Christian asks, sounding slightly dejected, he pulls out his phone to call Taylor.

I see them to the door, kissing and hugging my little boy, promising that I'll miss him, and telling him to have a great time and that I'll see him Monday night. When I turn my mom is standing there, grin gracing her face.

"What?"

"I'm glad you change your mind about coming with me and Bob." She arches an eyebrow.

"No, I haven't, I just told….I mean, I…"

"Just lied to your husband and son?" More eyebrow acrobatics.

"Estranged, soon to be ex-husband," I correct.

"Nevertheless, we'll have to go tomorrow and find you a dress." Shit. I know she's going to press the point.

"This is blackmail."

"No, actually it's coercion."

Monday afternoon we sit in an endless line of cars slowly inching up a road canopied by live oak trees. As we entered the scenic driveway I noticed a sign that said 'Welcome to Harper Hill Farm & Winery.' Let's get this done and over with please. I mill around with mom and Bob, tasting wines and sampling the different fare. The grounds are vast and impressive, the guest beautiful in their Gatsby themed costumes. I see and speak with Chellie and her mom, when they stop to converse with Bob. I take my opportunity to make a bathroom break. I walk around for a bit, stopping to look at an actual cricket match, as I am turning to leave I walk smack into a wall of man. I bounce off and he grabs me as I am going down.

We are both muttering apologies, when we stop and look at each other.

"Mrs. Grey?" Buttery soft.

"Dr. Harper?" Stunned and confused.

~oo0oo~