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This time on When I Grow Up, further exploration of whether letting people in can actually help more than it hurts, progress, and a visitor from the past...

this adds up to more than us

"Ida!" Max shrieks with joy and releases his hold on his mother, tearing down the hall before either of them can stop him.

"Max, slow down…" Addison calls to no avail; he runs directly into Ida's arms.

"There's my big guy. Did you get taller while you were here? Get down and let me see." She measures him against her knee. "Oh, bless, you're going to be taller than me in a month."

"I was hoping you would come," Max says happily, as if he's hosting a garden party, and Addison can't help smiling as she watches the two of them.

"I can't believe you're here. How did you – I mean, why -"

"Well, I've always wanted to see the space needle." Ida ruffles Max's hair; he's leaning companionably against her legs. "Who's this handsome fellow?" she indicates Thomas, who has stopped crying, apparently deciding Addison is the lesser of two evils, and is currently holding her necklace in a firm grip and hiding most of his face from Ida.

"That's my friend Thomas," Max says cheerfully. "Ida, can we go play on the roof? Can you sleep in my room?"

"Slow down, sweetheart." Addison shakes her head, shifting Thomas in her arms and giving Ida an apologetic look.

"I thought maybe you could use some help," Ida says kindly.

Addison swallows hard, feeling tears behind her eyes. "But you have your own-"

"Micah's almost 18, Dr. M. I can trust him home alone for a little while – well, I did take the car keys with me, but I can mostly trust him."

"I can't ask you to do this."

"You didn't ask me to do anything. I want to be here." She pauses meaningfully. "Don't think I don't know who's paying for Micah to go Harvard next year," she says quietly.

"No, that's – a foundation scholarship…" Addison bleats.

"Right, the AMS Foundation. A.M.S. Annabel and Max Sloan – I wasn't born yesterday," she chides gently.

AMS was a welcome output for her trust fund, a small enough project to keep her busy when she wanted to be, and one that she could ignore or delegate when she didn't. It's small and efficient, practically running itself. New York City has always been part of the fabric of their world and she liked the idea of supporting its students.

"Micah deserves it," Addison says firmly. "His SAT scores alone-"

"Yeah, he does, but he wouldn't have gotten it without you. So … let me help you, okay?"

She hears Richard's voice: it's not so terrible to ask for help.

"Okay," she nods a few times, gathering strength. "Okay. Thank you so much. I just – can't believe you're here."

"How is she?" Ida adds softly, glancing down the hallway.

"She's awake. She's okay." Mark smiles, but Addison can see the exhaustion around his jaw.

He exchanges a look with Addison. "I think … we need to keep her calm today, and I can explain more later, but – "

"That's fine," Ida seems to intuit that means she won't be seeing Annabel. "Whatever I can do to help."

Mark shoots her a grateful look and returns to Annabel's room. Addison watches him walk away. There's no time for them to be alone, to talk about his father, to give him space to think or process. A sense of her own powerlessness washes over her; it feels like grief.

"I'm so sorry," Meredith catches up to them at a clip just as Addison has turned back to Ida. "They're completely full upstairs, they can't squeeze in one more without going above the legal childcare ratios. I don't know what we can-" she breaks off, looking at the new person in the group.

Thomas lunges for his mother as soon as he sees her; Meredith takes him from Addison's arms, propping him on her hip.

"You must be Thomas's mother," Ida says warmly.

"I am." Meredith smiles, looking somewhat bemused. "Meredith Grey." She holds out her hand.

"Dr. Grey, that's Ida," Max whispers loudly, beaming at his nanny.

"So." Ida folds her arms, smiling at Addison and Meredith. "What were you saying about childcare?"

Ida proceeds to bustle straight through their protests, as she so often does with both the smaller and the larger Sloans.

"My handy guide to Seattle says there's an indoor playground not too far from here," Ida muses, "since it's raining cats and dogs out there."

"Yes!" Max bounces on his toes. "Mommy, please!"

"You just flew in," Addison says helplessly. "Don't you need to rest, or … bags, or …" her voice trails off.

"I'm plenty rested, and my bags are in the lobby of your hotel." Off Addison's expression she adds, "do you think I ignore those detailed itinerary emails your agent sends me?"

"You've … thought of everything." That's Ida's hallmark, after all, and has been for years, and when she holds out her hand Addison drops the rental car keys into it.

"I hope Max's friend will come with us." Ida smiles at Thomas.

"I don't want to impose," Meredith says hesitantly.

"It's no imposition at all. Two is easier than one. Like cats."

"Really?" Meredith asks.

"No." Ida smiles broadly. "And it's not true for cats either. But it is more fun, so I hope you'll still let him come with us."

"Thomas, come on!" Max gestures excitedly. He's still wearing his little backpack; Ida relieves Meredith of her diaper bag in record time.

Addison holds her breath, wondering if Thomas will consent to go with a relative stranger. Max holds his hand up toward Thomas, beckoning, and then Thomas wriggles to get down from his mother's arms.

Meredith kisses his hair. "Be good," she says faintly.

Ida has already programmed Meredith's number into her phone; they watch her leave with Thomas on her hip, holding Max by the hand.

Then Meredith turns to Addison, looking somewhere between amazed and fearful.

"She's like the fairy godmother of childcare. He doesn't usually go to new people." Meredith shakes her head. "And, I mean, the timing couldn't be better."

Addison smiles at her. She knows how lucky they are to have Ida; just as she did with her own mostly grown children, she's loving and warm, reliable, kind. Annabel and Max adore her.

Nanny Arlene is her absolute, number one favorite. She's nice and she smells like lemon cough drops and she does the best rhymes when she says good night.

"I put scotch tape on a grape," Nanny Arlene says in a funny high voice.

Addie laughs and kicks her feet under her long white nightdress. "That's a silly one, tape doesn't go on grapes. Do another one, do another rhyme!"

"You do one, Addie. How about … with your name?"

"'kay, Addie … is … Addie is a caddy," and she giggles, that's a silly one too because those are the people who follow you around when you play golf at the club and kids are definitely not allowed on the course.

"Good one! How about … house?"

"The house … is … as quiet as a mouse!" That's 'cause it's not polite for little girls or boys to raise their voices inside.

"It sure is. Okay, honeybunch, now you need to close your eyes. It's getting late." And she puts the quilt up around Addie all snuggly.

But there's one more rhyme to go. "Good night, sleep tight, see you in the morning light." That's three rhymes in a row and they say it every night.

Nanny Arlene really is the best even though she's old, really old. Like older than her parents, even. Definitely the very oldest nanny Addie can remember.

She doesn't remember every single one because there are lots and lots but she remembers some of them that she can count on her fingers. She liked Maria with the long black hair, she had a funny way of talking and she let Addison and Archer have candy when they were good. Then there was Nina, who wasn't so nice, she said "stop being a spoiled brat" which was totally unfair and when Addie tried to tattle on her to Bizzy she just got sent outside to play. Nina didn't like Addie much, or Archer either, but she sure did like the Captain. They used to talk by themselves in his office and Addie was allowed to play with her dolls in the hall outside but not allowed to come inside. Then Polly came and she was worse - meaner and slapped them hard when they were rude. Addie didn't bother to tell her mother this time. Polly left after a little bit anyway – the same day Addie's lip was bleeding which was her fault, that's what Polly said, and she leaned over to say it real mean up close but then Archie hit her back, right in her dumb face, and said "leave my sister alone!" That was so neat.

They didn't miss Polly much.

Ooh, but then they had Janet, she had long yellow hair exactly like Addie's Barbie dolls and the absolute neatest shirts that were all snug like a swimsuit, and she played the best records. Bizzy didn't seem to like Janet even though she was super nice and the very best part was that she had this sparkly baton with streamers she could twirl around and everything. The Captain liked Janet at least, she even saw them hugging real tight a bunch of times and that's usually just for people on TV. Janet never called her a brat and once she rolled Addison's hair out straight as anything, to match hers. Janet left without saying goodbye and Addie isn't supposed to ask questions because that's not polite. When Bizzy saw her playing with the sparkly baton Janet left behind she told her to leave it for the gardener to take out with the rest of the trash. Addie hid it under her pillow anyway.

Now she has Nanny Arlene who knows how to rhyme all the words and she tucks her in every single night and they do their special rhyme. When Addie has an earache Nanny Arlene sits up with her in her bed and puts a hot cloth on her and reads her stories until she falls asleep. Archie says he's too big for a nanny but he likes Nanny Arlene because she makes really good battleship noises when they play war and never ever yells at them like Nina or Polly.

The Captain doesn't seem to like Nanny Arlene much, he never has any meetings with her or anything, and once she heard her parents talking about her and her mother said "I'm sure you'll choose the next one, dear," and he said "I'm sure you won't complain," which she didn't really understand. The thing is, Addie doesn't want there to be a next one. She wants Nanny Arlene to stay forever and ever so she needs to be really good and not get in any trouble. In fact, she's going to be really extra good, just to make sure.

Addison closes her eyes for a moment. Good timing. For once. She draws a deep breath. With any luck, they can keep that up as the clock ticks toward 24 hours.

Meredith leaves to meet with Amy and Addison heads for her daughter's room.

Annabel is propped up, looking more alert than she has for most of the last week, still very small in the hospital bed, her dark hair standing out against the white sheets.

She's looking at Mark as Addison walks in, and she sees the little magnetic checkerboard on the hospital bed between them.

"King me," Annabel says to Mark, then looks up at her. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Bel." She forces her face into something like normal and pulls the chair up on the other side of the bed. "How do you feel, sweetie?"

"Good." Her voice sounds clear, not even that tired. So much like herself. Addison is touched by an illogical desire to scoop her up and run for the door. Maybe if she runs fast enough they can outrun her illness, race all the way back to New York and none of this will have happened.

"Want to play?"

But it's real, all of this, down to Annabel's sweet face beckoning her.

"I can't right now, love. I need to go do some … work," Addison says, meeting Mark's eye across the bed. "But I'll be back soon. Don't let Daddy win too many games, okay? It swells his head."

"You know I'm as modest as they come. Addie," he glances at her, and she walks around the bed to give him a quick kiss, touching his shoulder briefly to feel his warmth, then leans over to drop a kiss on the top of Annabel's head.

And then she takes a deep breath, stands up as straight as she can, and heads off to … chase an ambulance.

"How do you know this?" she asks Karev for the third time. They're drinking coffee at a round table in the cafeteria that's spread with paperwork.

"I find things out," he smirks. "It's what I do. So I know the general counsel will be home at two. In the meantime, we figure out what to say to him to get him to sign." He glances at Addison. "Got any lawyer friends? Someone who can … read a lot, fast, and tell me if I read all this right?"

Addison thinks for a moment. The lawyers she knows in New York who handle their properties and manage the foundation and her trusts aren't exactly friends. Not the kind of people she'd call on a Sunday to ask them to opine on something so far from their fields of expertise.

She pauses for a moment, thinking.

It's not so terrible to ask for help.

"I think I might know someone, actually."

She takes to google to find her number in London, only to find that she's working out of her firm's DC office, and has been for … almost a year now. Addison is woefully behind.

"London?" Addison feels tears spring to her eyes.

"Not 'til January. Don't cry. We'll email and you'll come visit. Bring the baby."

She cries anyway, but then everything makes her cry; she's almost nine weeks pregnant, so maybe it's hormones. And her life imploded two months ago, so … maybe it's that, too.

"Addie … have you thought about getting married?"

She stops crying, looks curiously at her friend. "I'm still married, Sav." She hopes it doesn't sound as distasteful as it, well … is. "It takes six months."

"I know that. But that means…" Savvy pauses for a moment, apparently calculating in her mind. "It will still be finalized before the baby gets here, right?"

"Yes, it should be." Addison dabs at her eyes with her napkin and takes a sip of her ginger ale. She's been feeling nauseated around lunchtime lately, but she's made it so far through this meal with Savvy. They're sitting by the window of their favorite lunch spot; they've been coming to this little café for years, and from their vantage point Addison can see red and gold leaves falling gently to the sidewalk. "Why do you ask?"

Savvy looks down at her half-eaten salad.

"What is it?"

"You don't want to have this baby while you're still married to Derek."

"Of course I don't!" Addison glances around quickly; she hadn't meant to be so loud.

"No, I mean … if you do, then it's presumptively his, legally. Mark will have to file to establish paternity; you'll have to get the baby tested, you'll all get … embroiled in this."

"We signed last month." Addison sniffles. "It will be another five months, but I'm not even nine weeks now."

Savvy nods, then leans forward, her voice lowering. "You are … sure, right, Addison?"

Addison meets the familiar blue eyes and realizes her meaning immediately. "How can you ask me that?"

"I'm sorry, Addie, you know I love you and I'm on your side, just …"

"Just I'm an adulterous bitch?"

"No." Savvy puts her hand on her arm. "I didn't say that. Just the timing, and-"

"I'm very, very sure, Sav. If you can trust my word when I'm a cheater."

"Addie, don't be like that. I was trying to help."

"I know. Sorry." She smiles wanly at Savvy but her chest is tight, twisting. Even her best friend thinks she's a terrible person. The kind of person who doesn't know – doesn't care? – who fathered her child. Savvy's always liked Derek. And Addison's the one who broke him.

"How about coffee?" Savvy asks.

"I should go." Addison mumbles something about patients, pays the check and leaves. She pounces on Mark as soon as he gets back to his apartment that night, and he teases her, says he thought libido surges didn't come until second trimester. She laughs but then it turns into crying and he just holds her. It already felt like Savvy was her last friend. And now it feels like her last friend has already crossed the ocean.

She can only find a work number online. Crossing her fingers there's a 24-hour switchboard, she makes the call.

"Savannah Boswell, please."

She gets her message, and her number, forwarded to the answering service and her phone rings back almost immediately.

"Addison?"

"Savvy," she says, and in spite of herself she starts crying.

"What's wrong? What's going on? Addie?"

"I'm sorry." She gulps, trying to stop herself. Seven years later and she's crying down a long distance line. "Everything's fine. I mean, it's not, but it is, but …" she takes a deep breath. "How, um, how have you been?"

"I've been great," Savvy says slowly, her voice still so familiar after all these years. "My kids have finally perfected their American accents, and I can drive on the right side of the road and buy three-ply toilet paper in bulk again. What's going on with you?"

"You have kids?" Addison asks brightly.

"I have kids. Addie," and her tone sounds a lot like the one Addison remembers from college, when she drank too much and was being too much of an idiot for Savvy's liking. That tone saved her from several campus party mistakes. "Why are you calling … now?"

"I know, it's Sunday, I'm sorry."

"Sunday? It's been seven years, Addison. The day of the week doesn't really matter after seven years."

"I'm sorry," she breathes into the phone. "I shouldn't have called."

"Addison!" Her tone is sharper now. "Look, I'm glad you called, just hang on –" she hears muffled voices, including a high pitched one she assumes is a child. "Can you tell me what's going on? I'm imagining crazy scenarios."

She's not sure if Richard was right, after all. It's hard – it's so hard – asking for help. But she'll do it for Annabel: she did it a week ago and she'll do it again.

She draws a deep breath. "Savvy, I - I need you."

The story tumbles out.

"…and it all has to be done before 9 a.m. Houston time."

"I'll look at the bylaws. But I don't skim, Addie."

"I know. That's why I called you."

"Send it over," she says.

"Savvy, I just -" the words start to choke in her throat.

"Don't thank me until I decide if you're going to get someone disbarred," Savvy says gently. "And remember, this isn't my area, but I'll do my best for you, okay?"

Two hours later, she calls back.

"Who did you say this guy is who came up with the plan?"

"A surgeon, here in Seattle."

"Well, if he ever wants a change of career, I'll take him in a heartbeat."

"I don't know, um, how to thank –"

"Then don't." Addison can picture Savvy waving a manicured hand. She always liked bright colors in the winter. "Just don't be a stranger, Addie. You have my number now."

"I have your number," she repeats, voice shaking.

Karev drives them, which is just as well because the address in Medina means nothing to her, and he uses the trip to fill her in on Carter Mills, the hospital's general counsel.

"So when you say he likes you…" Addison prompts, watching the unfamiliar scenery unfold through the window.

"I took out his granddaughter's tonsils two years ago."

Addison glances at him, eyebrow raised.

"I know. But the Chief asked me to do it. Mills was frantic; you'd think the kid was –" and he stops talking, right before Addison is certain he would have said dying.

"Sorry," he says quietly, signaling to change lanes. "Anyway, you get the point. He was grateful. And they invited me out to their place for drinks, which I think was a not-so-subtle attempt to set me up with the other daughter."

"How did that go?"

"She told me to lose her number." He grins at her. "Not everyone knows a good thing when they see it, you know."

She can't help but smile at his confidence. "You remind me of someone," she says softly, not sure why she felt compelled to share, "a while back, anyway."

They stand together outside the rambling white house.

"Are you sure it's better to show up unannounced?" Addison asks tentatively.

The hospital's general counsel looks to be in his early sixties, a hearty grey beard completing the look, but not hiding his expression of surprise when he pulls open the door.

"I hate to bother you at home on a Sunday," Karev says, sounding almost hesitant, and Addison thinks they're definitely about to get thrown out, when a sweet-looking woman appears in the doorway.

"Dr. Karev! Come in, sit down, have some tea. Carter," she scolds her husband, "why didn't you tell me Dr. Karev was coming over?"

Karev shoots a victorious look over his shoulder to Addison.

"We actually brought over some paperwork to discuss…"

They sit in a circle in the floral-upholstered living room. Mills strokes his beard while he looks over the documents Addison has placed in his hand. She's sitting as confidently as she can on the edge of the couch, but can't help the fingers in her lap from twisting with desperate anxiety.

"This is highly unusual," the older man rumbles quietly. "Highly unusual."

Addison shoots Karev a desperate look; he lifts a hand reassuringly.

"I've flagged the relevant portions of…"

"Yes, I see that." He glances at them briefly over his glasses. "Highly unusual," he says again.

Addison tries to regulate her breathing as she watches Karev survey the room, then stop next to the wall of bookshelves. He gestures toward a silver frame. "May I?" he asks.

He pauses to smile affectionately. "Of course."

Karev brings the frame over the couch, and Addison peers at the picture inside it: two little dark haired girls in white dresses, beachy golden hour illuminating their faces. "Ruby's gotten so tall." Karev smiles. "She must be … eight already?"

"That's right." The lawyer removes his reading glasses, polishing them with his handkerchief.

"No more sore throats, right?"

"No," and he keeps polishing.

"And the little one – Elizabeth, right? How old is she now?"

"Six. Almost seven." The lawyer pauses, then puts his reading glasses back on to give the photograph a fond look.

And that's when she knows they've won.

Mills pauses at the door as he lets them out.

"I may be a grandfather, doctors, but I'm not an idiot." He presses the paperwork into Addison's outstretched hand, then pauses. "Remember that I represent the hospital. Dr. Shepherd is on his own. Be careful."

"We pulled this off, you should be happy," Karev says as he opens the car door for her.

She swallows hard on guilt. "Derek's lawyer thought he was in a good position for the investigation, but that was before this…."

"Shepherd can make his own decisions." Karev turns over the ignition. "Don't you think? Next stop: Chief."

Richard is in his office; Addison doesn't question it anymore.

She wonders about Adele, wonders about whether he's making any effort to balance work with his life but right now, his presence in the office is to their benefit and until Annabel is better she can't focus on anything else. She's been checking her blackberry on and off all day for updates on Annabel, who's been holding steady.

"We have signoff from Mills, Chief," Karev flips through the paperwork.

"How did you get involved in this?" Richard nods toward Karev.

"Richard," Addison starts unsteadily.

"Never mind." Richard shakes his head. "What about Derek? He can't be on hospital property right now. How can he-"

"He's prepared to sign as soon as you do," Karev says. "He's ten minutes away right now."

"Eight," Addison corrects. "Six if you hit the lights."

Technically, he's in the Sloans' hotel suite running the newest model from Annabel's updated scans, making notes for Meredith and Amy, but Addison's not sure Richard needs to know just how entwined their lives seem to have become.

"The Distinguished Visitor Exception." Richard shakes his head. "This isn't really-"

"We have lawyer signoff," Addison can't help interrupting to remind him, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears. "All we need is your signature now and he can operate."

Richard frowns. "It's a loophole."

Addison doesn't say anything."

"Right." Richard looks at her for a moment. "This loophole, though – how is it going to look for Derek's investigation?"

"He says he's prepared to deal with that," Addison says quietly.

Richard takes a deep breath, during which Addison's heart pounds and she's afraid to look around the room. She studies the glass edge of his desk instead, mapping the corners. Agree, agree, agree, the words staccato in her ears in time with her heart.

"Karev?"

They both look up.

Richard takes the pen from Addison's hand. "Have security make our Distinguished Visitor a temporary ID."

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Title lyric from Vega4's A Billion Tons of Light