Chapter 23

A/N: I'm going to share a bit of my personality with you guys. I am 4# years old and still find potty humor hilarious, shameful but true. There is a video on YouTube of a product called Poo-Pourri, if you haven't seen it, it is crack-you-up, tears running down your face, side splitting funny. You have to check it out. Anyway, I was at work and something reminded me of the commercial, so I'm trying to tell my trainer about the video and every time I got to 'birthed a creamy behemoth' I lost it. I'm talking tears streaming, howling laughter, so much so, my trainer is laughing at me laughing, shushing me, trying to get me to keep it down. Well somebody got out there phone and pulled up the video, and needless to say it was mayhem for a little while there. If you go to 'Girls Don't Poop', on Google or something you should find it. I think it might have been in that moment that they decided I would be an okay addition to the staff.

This is beta read, and believe me, better because Rightytighty took time out of her day to read and correct. My beta is the shiznit y'all! Thank you so kindly A.

Recap and Narration: It's been a difficult and stressful week for Christian. After an unfortunate encounter between Mia and Paige, the Grey men confront Paige, and Christian finally gets her out of his life for good. He brings his dad and Elliot with him to Savannah, and with a little help from Carla manage to surprise the Grey ladies. Due to an unforeseen event the good Dr. Harper ends up joining his sister Bizzie at the dinner party, along with another unexpected and unwelcomed guest. The night continues and Ana learns that Paige is completely out of the picture. The next morning Christian has a humorous wake-up call.

~oo0oo~

It's already gone midnight and Christian hasn't come back with Teddy; I can see Grace, Carrick, and Elliot wearing the same worried expression I am. It's just family now, as the Harpers left just moments ago, and no one has the strength or patience to keep up the front. The room is silent and still, uncomfortably so, until my father-in-law suggests that someone call or text his incredibly stupid son. Elliot reaches in his pocket for his iphone just as mine silently vibrates in my pocket. I quickly read my screen and look up to see El sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket. I eye him and he nods letting me know he got the same message.

*Teddy and I are fine, we're home.* CG

"Teddy is fine; he and Christian are around the corner." I say and wag my phone in the air letting the family know the message I just received was from Christian, and everyone visibly relaxes. I turn walking back toward the front door as I reply to his message.

*Is he asleep yet, if not, I would like to at least, say goodnight.* Ana

In the background I hear snippets of the current topic of conversation, things like "….always overreacting…., needs to get a grip…, something about, shrimp & grits being a Southern classic…., and who the hell spells Shelly with a c-h?" That one elicits a little snicker as I answer my phone.

"Hi, baby boy," I coo down the line. "Are you-"

"Ana, it's me," Christian quietly interrupts me. "Before I put Teddy on the phone, I, I uh…,just wanted to know if perhaps we could talk sometime tomorrow morning?"

I am quiet for more time than is polite, but finally mutter a, "Yeah, that's fine. I have something to discuss with you as well."

"What, is something wrong, tell me." From sad and maudlin to panic stricken control freak in two tenths of a second, that may be a record.

"Tomorrow," I say firmly, "Please put Teddy on so I can say goodnight."

I manage to hold Teddy's attention for a full thirty seconds (and that's about twenty seconds longer than I thought possible), cooing a mushy "night-night, and I love you baby boy," before I end the call without waiting for Christian to get back on the line.

I guess all Carrick and Grace needed was to know that Christian and Teddy were alright, because they are saying their goodnights as well. As I enter the living room my father-in-law wraps me in a hug, very unusual for him to show this level of affection.

"Ana, you are one classy, strong, beautiful young woman, you always comport yourself with such dignity and poise; I am so honored to call you my daughter." I am beginning to think he may be drunk, though I don't see how, he's only had some wine. I'm a little embarrassed by his uncharacteristic candor.

I furrow my brow and shake my head slightly, "Thank you Carrick." I shyly mutter, looking anywhere except directly at him.

Once Carrick and Grace left and Mom and Bob retired for the night, the three of us get into more comfortable clothes. Elliot had to stay in his dinner clothes, since he'd forgotten to get his bags out of the SUV before it departed with his parents. He managed to relax though, pulling his shirttails out and kicking off his shoes. Unbeknownst to me, he and Kate had already spoken with Carla about Elliot staying here with Kate for the rest of their stay in Savannah.

We sit out back on the patio and crack open another bottle of wine. We kind of recap the night. Kate agreed that there was something else going on between Chellie and Bizzie.

"Yeah, she let her have it when she said Chellie was as underhanded and devious as she was ten years ago," Kate recounted the verbal smack-down Miss Bizzie laid on sleazy Chellie right at the table after her show-and-tell fiasco. "There's definitely an undercurrent of something ugly between the two of them. I wonder what that's all about," She says raising one immaculately shaped eyebrow.

"Speaking of ugly," Elliot changes the topic. "I believe we are done with Paige Dennison/Putnam." I get very still, unsure if I want the details of their meeting. What's with the Putnam, is she married? Thinking about Christian in the same room with….her, the thought of them interacting, engaging, even just looking at one another while they breathe the same air, has me wondering does he want her the way he use to, does he have to battle his desire for her? I literally feel sick to my stomach.

"Ana," Elliot questions, "are you alright?"

When did my hand reach up to cover my mouth? I nod quickly, a jerky funny little movement. I'm steamed that this still has the power to rock me so hard, like being poked with a stick, but some masochistic part of me sits here wanting to know. Mia told me and Kate how she wound up busting the no-good, homewrecking whore in the mouth, and should I ever get the opportunity I'm going to give her an eye to match the lip. She's got a hell of a lot of nerve, rotten, stank-ass, mongrel bitch, calling my son out of his name. God help her if I ever get my hands on her. Ha, I wonder what Carrick would think if he could hear these thoughts? As I look up all three house guests are staring at me mouths agape.

"How much of that did you hear?" I ask over the rim of my wine glass.

"Rotten, stank-ass mongrel bitch, calling my son out of his name, God help her if I ever get my hands on her." Elliot mumbles in the exact tone and cadence that I was, or thought I was, thinking it.

I shrug a shoulder, "She should stay clear of me." Then I ask, "how do you know she won't try and have Mia arrested for assault," as a way of taking the focus off of myself.

"She'll be too busy staying one step ahead of Homeland Security to cause any more trouble." Elliot is smug in his delivery, and for some reason, it unsettles me.

"Homeland Security!" Kate sputters choking on her wine. "What the fuck, is she a terrorist?" Oh shit, she just caught the scent of a story; both Elliot and I see it in her eyes. She's sat straight up and is laser focused on her husband.

"Slow your roll, Deepthroat." Elliot chuckles.

"Eww!" Mia shreiks; not realizing the reference is to the Watergate scandal of the '70's, not the sexual act.

"No, evidently she was here on false documents, according to Taylor; but by the way she reacted when Christian dropped that little gem, it's right on the money."

"For your information, Deepthroat was the informant, not the reporter you ignoramus." Kate blurts out indignantly. I can't tell if she is genuinely offended or if this is just their normal banter. To hear the way they speak to each other you would think there wasn't an ounce of love between them, but you'd be wrong. They love each other fiercely, and know each other well, maybe that's why they can be totally, and sometimes brutally candid with one another. I don't fool myself into thinking every relationship could survive that way, but it works for them. And on some level I envy that. I know the wheels came of my marriage, in part, because we couldn't be candid, so we hid things. I know I did, and by virtue of where we are tonight, Christian did as well.

Elliot laughs off her dig by chuckling, "Ignoramus, that's a good one Katydid." After ducking one of Kate's Kate Spade wedges he finished off the rest of the Grey/Paige confrontation, ending by scratching the back of his neck while muttering something about Christian, oak trees and knot holes.

~Beau~

"Soooo, that's Ana, hmmmm?" Bizzie hums, silly grin plastered across her face, as she eyes me slyly.

"Bijou, don't start." I say sternly. "And what was all that, I've heard a lot about you, business. I haven't said one word to you about Mrs. Grey."

"Oh, so now it's Mrs. Grey is it," Same cheeky grin on her face.

I sigh in frustration, determined not to take to her bait.

"I overheard you and Bart talking Monday after the tasting."

"It's rude to eavesdrop on private conversations, were you raised in barn, you little brat?" I let my lips lift into a smile so she knows I'm teasing.

"No, but I was raised with four crass, uncouth, closed mouthed older brothers; I have to get leverage anyway I can, and don't think you're going to change the subject. You like her, don't you?"

I pretend to concentrate on the road while I ponder her question, and how best to answer it.

"For reasons I cannot go into, pursuing anything more than friendship with…Ana," I cut my eyes in her direction, "Might not be totally….proper," I hedge, "And before you dig further, that's all you're going to get." Please leave it there Bizz, I silently plead.

"Ohhhhh," she draws out a breath like I just gave her the answers to the mystery of life, "But you want to, right?" Goddamn nosy little sisters, they never give up, time for a change of subject.

"Was that the first time you've seen Chellie since….you know." I let that trail off.

Bizzie visibly stiffens in her seat, mood shifting drastically. "No, I see her around town from time to time, but needless to say, we don't engage in conversation."

"I still say she and that mob of miscreants she was friends with should have been, at the very least, arrested after what they tried to pull. Ideally, I would have liked to see the lot of them prosecuted." My voice has turned hard, cold and my hands hold the stirring wheel with a white knuckled grip. "Suspensions and expulsions were just a slap on the wrist."

"I know, unfortunately, we couldn't prove intent, and they closed ranks and clammed up." She utters quietly. "Please Beau, don't let this get to you again."

"I thank God that Bing and Marty got there in time, and that Marty's little brother, what's that little fart's name….?"

"They called him Bumper, but his real name is Patrick."

"Yeah, him. Good thing he couldn't keep a secret and spilled the beans, or else….." I am unable to voice the 'or else'.

We ride down dark country roads for quite some time in silence, both of us lost in thought. Angry at what could have been, thankful that by the grace of God, it never was, bewildered by what could make people, especially teenagers so hateful, morally twisted and emotionally empty.

"Hey," I reach for Bizzie's hand. "I'm sorry, I've upset you. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"I'm not," she says earnestly. "Being in such close proximity to her tonight, I probably would have gotten upset later, once I was alone. It's better that it happened now, when I'm with my psychologist big brother, who can help me through it." Her voice sounds light, but she still won't look at me.

"You know you can call me anytime, day or night; I'll be there for you, sis," I barely get around the ball of emotion lodged in my throat.

"I know, but you know what," She says sounding slightly timid. "I don't think about it nearly as much as I use to. Something has to trigger a memory of that night, it no longer lurks in the back of my mind threatening to ambush me at any moment. Like having to sit across from her tonight, and politely ignore her, but as you saw she hasn't changed one iota. Please tell Ana to stay far away from her. I give you permission to tell her my story, and if you don't I will."

I nod my head slowly, I had been thinking about that since Monday when I learned she was related to Ana.

"Did you know she had taken your picture?" Bizzie asks shaking me from my thoughts.

"No, I hadn't noticed her past our initial greeting. She asked me how you were and then I totally disregarded her presence. I won't make that mistake ever again; I should know better, you never turn your back on a snake, and Michelle LeClair is as scaly as they come."

"Amen to that."

We ride in comfortable silence for the remainder of the ride to the farm. As we enter the back gates she asks me if Becky and I have everything ready for the memorial service that's to take place in two weeks.

"Yeah, everything is in place. The only thing I have to do is try to pare down my remarks. As you know I could talk about Tru all day long." An idea to spend a little more time with my sister strikes me. "Uh, are you going straight to bed?"

"Mmmm, no….why, do you want me to listen to your speech?" She asks with her bright smile, head just nodding.

"Well, ah, yeah, that would be…nice." I answer sheepishly, as I rub the back of my neck, a nervous tick of mine, a clear tell of when I am feeling out of my depth.

"I'd love to hear it, give me fifteen minutes so I can get in something more comfortable. I'll meet you right back here."

"Alright, I have to go check on Clo and I'll be right back down."

~Christian~

The following morning

Theodore Raymond Grey is either the best or most annoying alarm clock I'll ever have. It's 6:30am and despite the fact that he didn't get to bed until well after 1am, here he is smacking me awake, and shouting in my face.

"Daddy, (smack), Daddy waked up, (smack)." I pretend to be asleep and wait for him to smack me again, so I can grab him quickly flip him on his back and open up a can of tickle monster on him...well, that was the plan.

"DADDY! Me gotta POOOP!" He wails less than an inch from my face. Oh Shit! I'm off the bed before my eyes are fully open. I scoop Teddy up and dart for the en-suite, praying that we make it in time.

"Hold on son," I shout as we barrel into the bathroom, and I rip those awful paper drawers off exposing his clenched little cheeks. I know we've made it when I hear his intention make contact with the target. Splashdown!

"Teddy boy, there is never a dull moment with you around, is there?" I look at his face scrunched with effort and fall out laughing.

That was an unexpected start to my morning, and a brief distraction from the mutant butterfly that's been gnawing a hole in the pit of my stomach since my abrupt departure from the dinner party. It was leave or go across the table and beat Dr. Harper to a bloody pulp; and I'm pretty sure no one wanted to see that. That would have certainly cemented my title of Asshole of the Year.

But I do have to face my parents and Ana this morning. I'm expecting some sort of lecture from Carrick given the look he was sporting when he and my mom arrived last night. Lucky for me Teddy was still up and they put their focus on spending a little time with him before he fell asleep, rather than reaming me out for my admittedly immature behavior. I can't worry about that at the moment, though; I need to get my son cleaned up and fed. I give him a quick bath and get him dressed, a short half an hour later we are downstairs and I am preparing my signature dish, ham and cheesy scrambled eggs. Ted is in his chair and babbling a continuous stream of nonsense that I don't even pretend to understand. But every so often I throw out a 'mmhmmm', or 'you don't say', just to keep him filling the silence with his cute little toddler chitchat.

We are at the kitchen table digging into our breakfast when my mom enters the kitchen looking around as if she's lost something.

"Good morning, how did you sleep?" I ask while watching her perplexed expression.

"Very well, and you?" She's all grins as she comes over kissing both me and Ted good morning. "Hi, my precious grandson, I am so glad to see you eating so heartily this morning." Her expression going from perplexed to dubious. "It smells delicious, who made you ham and eggs, baby?"

"Daddy!" He says loudly

"No, really baby, did mommy drop by and get breakfast ready for you." She questions Ted but looks at me. Now I'm insulted. I cock my head to the side and raise my eyebrows asking the unspoken question, 'For real', but I keep quiet.

"Daddy make hamb n'ecks." My sons defends nodding his head vigorously.

"Don't talk with your mouth full son." I say with a victorious grin on my lips.

"I may regret this, but is there any left?" She asks hesitantly.

"Of course, do you think I wouldn't make enough for my house guest? Sit, I'll get you a plate ready." Trying and failing not to let my smile show in my voice. "Would you like jam on your toast, I also have some wildflower honey. Or I can get you a bagel with smoked salmon cream cheese, the choice is yours, Mother."

Her face is a picture, eyes wide, jaw dropped in astonishment, amusement dancing across her entire face.

I unfold myself from my seat and leisurely walk up to my mother and gently tap the underside of her chin to get her to close her mouth.

"You'll catch flies like that." And I lay loud smacker right on her cheek.

"Okay then, I'll just get the coffee ready, where…." I cut her off by pointing in the direction off the coffee station.

"Freshly ground and brewed, feel free to help yourself." I reach in the cupboard to get her a plate.

"Who are you and just WHAT, have you done with my son!" We both laugh.

I am grateful for this time of light conversation with my mom and son. We wait for Dad to join us and discuss our plans for the rest of the day as Teddy watches Cartoon Network. It's well after 9 before Carrick makes an appearance, rubbing his head and grumbling something about, damn Bob and scotch. He does look a little rough around the edges this morning.

"Good morning Cary, or what's left of it." Grace greets him gently.

"Morning, I'll let you know about the good part after some coffee." I just sit there and watch.

"Why don't you have a seat and I'll get it for you." Mom offers, as he plops down in the first seat he comes to.

"That sounds like a plan to me, you're such a good woman Grace." He manages to mumble. He finally focuses enough to notice me and Teddy. "Christian, Teddy, come here Teddy, give your old Pop Pop a hug." Ted hesitates a moment but decides to go check on the old man.

"You tummy hurt Pop Pop, do's you have to poop, me had a poop dis mornin', you should hab one too." Ted offers his finest medical assessment. I can hear Grace over my shoulder trying to disguise her laughter as a cough as I do the same by clearing my throat. Dad winces as my son has no idea of volume control, and in his present state I'm sure Teddy sounds like he is talking through a megaphone. I go and pull Teddy from his lap just as mom comes to the rescue with a steaming mug of coffee.

"Serves you right." She hands him the coffee and kisses him on the head.

After a couple of sips he is looking decidedly better and more alert.

"Mmmm, that's good. Grace do I smell your ham and eggs, that would make me feel right as rain about now. Can I get a plate?"

"No, you smell Christian's ham and eggs. And have you forgotten we are going to Carla and Bob's for brunch? You slept through breakfast, you won't want brunch if you eat now." Grace corrects.

"Gracie, I've got to put something on my stomach or I won't be going anywhere."

My cell buzzes in my pocket, and I dread looking at the message as I know it's Ana wondering about what time to come over. There's that fucking gut munching mutant butterfly again. I am so fucking nervous.

"Very well Cary, just a small plate, then it's off to the shower….Christian, are you okay?" I can only manage to nod as my heart is in my throat.

*Bro, Carla is going nuts, she wants to know what time you all are going to head over here. I say IHOP anyone, breakfast just ain't worth this much stress.* Elliot

Thank fuck, it's just Elliot; the relief I feel is profound and immediate. I lean my elbows on the counter and drop my head to my chest. Shit, I need to get it together.

"Christian, what's wrong," I can hear real concern in my mom's voice.

"Mom, I'm fine, really, it was just….I…." I stutter feeling my phone vibrate again. I stop to read the new text.

*Forgot to tell you, Ana left about 5 minutes ago, to walk over to your place. See ya, wouldn't want to be ya.* Els

Fucking dickhead, will he ever grow the hell up? I don't get to ponder Idiot's evolution to adulthood, because just then, the doorbell announces I've got a visitor.

~oo0oo~

I know that I told some of you that pm'd me that the last scene in this chapter would be 'the talk', but I just couldn't make it happen. Most of this chapter has been written for weeks, I have been wrestling and I mean to tell you it's been fighting me back. I have scrapped at least 3 different versions as they did not ring the bell I was trying to hit. He was sounding too whiny and her too bitchy, then one had him sounding skin crawlingly creepy and her like a weak knee'd ninny. Chapter 24 will be just the talk, and I hope to have it ready very soon.

All previous disclaimers apply.