I wake up because I really have to pee, so I sit up in my bed. And immediately regret it, because the worst hangover ever greets me with a round knock on my head. Monday morning and the week already doesn't seem to end. I hold my head with my hand and sigh. Ok, I also curse, but when no one observes it, it has never happened. Basic quantum physics. I take notice of a glass of orange juice on my night table and two advils next to it. Aaaww, Christian thought of me last night, how sweet. Relieved, I take the pills and down them with the juice. Good, hopefully they will have an effect, soon. I sink back into my lovely pillow and give myself another five minutes of rest, before I slowly stand up and crawl into my bathroom. After a freshening and reviving shower, I'm fit enough to start this day.
At the breakfast table, we discuss our plans for today.
"From this week on, I will go to work at the publishing office again - from Monday to Friday. Christian, you will take Tommy to school and Andy to daycare, after that you'll do a little yard work. Ray will come and get you for lunch and you'll do some work for him. He will explain everything to you. I will put in some overtime, so you'll have to take care of the kids. This includes cooking dinner for them", I instruct.
"Great. Why don't you shoot me instead?" he grumbles.
"Because then I couldn't work overtime, silly little boy!" I say and kiss him, while I get up and leave the table. Today I have no energy to do anything fancy and because of that, I just dress in a simple white top and a floral skirt, my hair in a braid.
I'm sitting at my desk at the office, flipping through the manuscripts. I shouldn't have drunk that much yesterday. I'm still feeling a little bit sick, so I prepare myself an herbal tea, which should calm my stomach. After a week away, there are a hell of a lot of manuscripts on my desk. At least I can work overtime, having Christian taking care of my boys. Fortunately, Mr. Roach, my boss, is also a father, a father of six, so he knows the problems of being a parent. Therefore he often turns a blind eye at my working schedule. In return, I hire a babysitter every now and then to be able to clear my desk at least once a week. Too bad that I have a babysitter for free now, so I'm definitely getting more work done. I read manuscript after manuscript and José calls every now and then. I dismiss his calls and concentrate on my work. This little fucker has to wait. Everything is more important than him.
After a few hours, Mr. Roach comes up to me with someone by his side. Maybe a new coworker.
"Mrs. Steele, I want you to meet Jack Hyde. He is our new editor and it's his first day." Mr. Roach introduces our new colleague. He has red hair, tied into a ponytail and fathomless dark blue eyes. There are small silver hooped earrings in both his ears. He wears a pale blue shirt without a tie and stone chinos.
"Mr. Hyde", I say, while standing up and stretching out my hand. That was such an enthusiastic move that I knock over my chair. I pick it up and turn to the men in front of me. Once again, I stretch out my hand but this time, I overlook the pencil cup and overthrow it. Oh please, could I be anymore embarrassing? Especially in front of my boss and my new colleague?
"Mrs. Steele, it's a pleasure to meet you", Mr. Hyde says and chuckles. He helps me with the pencil cup.
I smile thankfully and say: "If I can help you with anything, don't hesitate to ask" I offer this, because we are like a little family and help each other out, so this is my standard expression to our new colleagues.
"I will, Mrs. Steele, I will", he assures me and a smile spreads across his face.
With that said, I resume my work and continue reading my manuscripts.
I'm reading through my fifth manuscript today as my phone rings. I check the callers ID and sigh - Tommys school. That means trouble. A furious principal orders me to pick up my desperado. And there goes my plan to catch up with my work. Half an hour later, I go into the school building to face the music. Tommy was put in detention, again. So I know where to go. As I approach the classroom, I see Christian entering the room. What is going on here? I hurry to the door and open it quietly a little bit to eavesdrop.
Christian approaches the teacher.
"Mrs. Burbridge, I'm Tommys father, what's going on here? Why is my son in detention?" he says in his CEO voice, calmly and formally.
"Well, apparently your little brat over there considered himself above taking the Schwartzman-Heinliken tests", she snorts.
"I'm sorry, what are the Schwartzman-Heinliken tests?" he asks interestedly.
"Placement tests. They are very valuable in measuring intelligence and potential. … Sit still! … See? Your child is a discipline problem", she hisses.
"I know. I have had difficulties myself", he says, going to Tommys table. He bends down and whispers: "What did you do now?"
Mrs. Burbridge points out: "Oh! He decided to play sick! And not very convincingly. Now, I believe his problems exist because of deficient parental guidance. Your children are slovenly, incorrigible and being reared by a mother who clearly isn't concerned about their welfare, but is herself without any doubts overtaxed!" she rambles.
Now I have tears in my eyes. It's not nice to be judged by someone, who doesn't know me, who doesn't know how I'm working my ass off to bring up my kids and provide for them. I may not be the best mother on earth, but I give my absolute best for them. Suddenly, I hear heels clicking, so I hide behind a shelf on the hallway. A young woman goes into the classroom. After a few moments, she leaves it again.
I resume my eavesdropping and peek into the room. Mrs. Burbridge looks through some papers and Christian kneels next to Tommy. Christian takes a closer look at the child and his face gets serious. He closes in on the teacher and draws himself up in front of her.
"Mrs. Burbridge, would you come over here for a moment?" He drags her over to Tommy. "Has it escaped your attention that this child has head to toe poison oak?" he nearly yells. Oh, oh, poor little Mrs. Burbridge, meet furious Mr. doesn't-stand-for-any-nonsense-Grey.
"Well no, I … well yes, but …" she stammers frightened.
"But what? My child is in need of medical assistance! And you sit here and smugly lecture me on the importance of tests? Tests, which label children's potential, a thing which cannot possibly be measured, least of all by anal compulsive huns! And my wife may be overtaxed, but that's none of your business! And my children may be rotten, but they're mine. And I think that they're bright, and sensitive, so I have no doubts whatsoever about their intelligence. I do however have serious doubts about yours", he snaps. He turns around and hisses to Tommy: "Stand up, we're going home!" Tommy stares in awe at him. "Immediately!" he screams. Tommy jumps up and follows him. "Discipline problems? My regards to Schwartzman and Heinliken!" he spits.
I quickly run around the next corner to hide from my men. Tommy says: "You told her off. Mom never did that!" and beams and I wait, till they are out of sight. I can't help but grin. Oh how I love it, when he fights for us. Life is so much easier, when you're not on your own. I go to my car and look at the clock. Yeah, I still have enough time to clear my table. So I go back to my office and work a little overtime.
When I arrive home, I go to the living room. Tommy, covered in calamine lotion all over, and Andy are sitting at the table. Andy is crying, Tommy is writing something and Christian also sits at the table and looks at them.
"What's happening?" I ask my beloved husband with a stern voice. Did he make Andy cry?
"It's enough! It's finally time to bring up the kids properly. Tommy's doing his homework quietly and neatly and Andy has to eat a proper snack before he will get some sweets", he enlightens me.
"Do you mean I have not brought up my kids very well?" I ask incredulously and doubtfully.
"Yes, our children could do much better", he clarifies.
I gape in astonishment. How dare he judges my boys and the way Brad and I brought up Tommy and Andy. I'm lost for words, so I just turn around and go to the kitchen.
I'm fuming. I'm cutting vegetables for a light salad for my dinner and have to watch out not to cut my fingers, because they're shaking. Every time my mood turns sour, I'm getting more and more quiet, a dangerous sign. He doesn't even have children, let alone was a single parent for a single day, how could he judge me.
After a while, his hand snakes around my middle with a glass of water in it. As I look down he pours the water in my face and says: "Cool down, Ana!" I don't know what to do because I'm so dumbfounded. I turn around and watch him doing the dishes, without a care in the world as if nothing ever happened. I turn again to cut the vegetables and think about what to do. Without thinking I take my own glass of water, turn around and pour it on his back, only to attend to my cutting again. A devilish grin spreads on my face. 'Take that, Mr. Perfect' I think.
I hear a cabinet being opened and closed. Oh shit, what will he do next? I pause the cutting trying to find my next weapon. 'Ah, yes, this will do' I think while taking a jar of peanut butter, open it and dig in with my index and middle finger. As I turn around, a mist of flour is greeting me. Instinctively, I close my eyes and cough a little before I quickly smear the peanut butter across his face. A giggle finds its way. He grabs my hand and licks my fingers with his gorgeous tongue and sucks on them while he pushes me to the kitchen counter. He sits me on it while grabbing something on my left side. Shit, now he's in play mode and I have to defend myself.
Promptly, my right hand hovers over the ingredients on my right side. Before I can grab something, his hand smears jelly on my cleavage. I cry out and hop off the kitchen counter, pushing him away. On the other side, next to the sink, I spot a bottle with chocolate sauce. I hop to grab it, turn around and squeeze it on his shirt. Another giggle comes out of my mouth while I make a few steps backwards, still armed with the chocolate sauce. I feel the kitchen counter right behind me.
Shit, I'm trapped and he knows it. Slowly he comes my way, taking the shirt off and immediately my eyes wander over his torso. Mmmmhhh, mighty fine. As they roam down his happy trail, he tosses his shirt at me, waking me up from my daydream. I catch it with my free hand as he closes the gap between us and rests his hands on my waist. He brings his face close to mine and I can feel his breath on my lips. I'm getting hot, feeling the heat radiating from his body, not to mention the drenched panties down there. My breath hitches and I can't help myself: Even though I'm really fed up with him, my mind is screaming: 'Kiss me!' What would I give for just one more kiss from this Adonis? Absentmindedly I bite my bottom lip. Just as I thought he would really do it, he takes the bottle from my hand and a squirt of chocolate sauce find its way on my thighs. A big smirk spreads on his face, his eyes on fire. "I think you need a shower!" he says. Yes, he's definitely right, I need a shower, a really cold one. „Yeah! So do you!" I say while taking a bottle of beer and pouring it over his head. I know, it will be plenty of work to clean up the kitchen and the clothes today, but it is also kind of fun actually. And erotic at the same time. And it's easing my frustration. This man is a handful.
After his beer shower, his face changes to serious. "Ana, look, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to attack the children or you in any way. I just think we could do better! I don't want it to stand between us. This whole situation is not so easy for me, I'm feeling like I have never lived with children and just try to give my best." He takes my hands and slowly raises them to his mouth, kissing my knuckles, each and every one of them. My mind reels with remorse. I'm a big part of his problems and separated him from his family, his friends, his fiancé. I don't think he will ever forgive me when he finds out. I shake my head to get rid of my thoughts and go to the bathroom.
After a while of soaking in the tub I hear the door open. I instantly get nervous and glide deeper into the water, under the foam. Christian kneels next to the bathtub and leans his chin on his hand, which is laying on the rim of the bathtub. He stares at me and I squirm and feel very uncomfortable. Christian sighs.
"Apple pie, I want to know what happened between us. Now!" he says in a low voice.
I open and close my mouth several times like a fish. I don't know what to say.
"You were kind of the reason, why I lost my job and therefore we had to move", I tell him. Wow, easier than I thought. And I did not even lie.
"Ok. I assume that you don't want to tell me the whole story yet", he guesses.
I nod.
"And you're mad at me", he keeps on guessing.
"No, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the situation … you created", I admit.
"Look, filet mignon, I'm really sorry for what I've done, although I don't know it anymore and be sure I'll make it up to you but don't let us fight anymore! Let's cut the shit and start over. I'm tired of these unknown problems in my life. From now on, I will have a say in all family matters", he states without any objections.
I sigh. "Alright."
He smiles and kisses my forehead, stands up and walks over to the door. On the threshold he turns and states: "Oh and before I forget it: That also means I am going to sleep in the bed from now on!" and with that he closes the door.
I grin. It was funny as long as it lasted, but I quite like it when he takes command. It's a good change. Since Brad's death I had to decide all things of our three lives on my own and I'm tired of it. So I enjoy every decision that I don't have to make. I leave the bathtub and put on my robe. I brush my teeth and my hair and braid it. I go to the bedroom, change into pajamas and slip into bed. As I lay down, I inevitably have to think of the first night, a man slept in my bed. Brad snuck into my room at night. I had a single bed, so it was a bit cramped and we lay close together but I absolutely loved it. He was all I ever wanted - A hot-water bag, a bodyguard and a make out artist all in one. And he was mine. That night I knew, I wanted him in my bed every night.
As I snap out of this memory, I recognize that I'm crying. Fantastic, I'm a picture of misery. I wipe the tears away and try to hide them. As the door opens and Christian steps in, I lie with my back towards him and keep my face hidden from his view. He switches off the lights and slides into bed. I hold my hand over my mouth to silence the sobs and still continue to cry. But then his hands crawl around me and he pulls me into him. My back pressed against his front, he squeezes me tight. "I'm sorry", he whispers and kisses my head after which I cry harder. But after a while my tears run dry and I fall asleep.
I posted the last chapter after midnight and was so freaking tired I forgot to mention: We're half through the story! ;)
The good thing about feedback is that you point out some things to me which I didn't think of when I wrote the story. The 'José-incident' wasn't such a great deal for me, so I resolved it quite unspectacular by Christian demanding to start over. I could have made some drama here, but I'm sorry I didn't.
In this chapter, there isn't exactly a movie quote, but the food fight scene was inspired by a movie scene, where the food fight begins with glasses of water, too. Do you know the movie? ;)
Christian618 - Yep, that was Taylor looking for Christian. No, José didn't ruin anything, because for Christian, this chapter was a recommencement.
ashley . mercer . 16 - No, Taylor didn't find Christian - not yet - but he was sooooooooo close! I just wanted to show that SOME people care so much for Christian, that they're looking for him.
Old Soul in Wonderland - Thanks for your review, I'm glad you liked the chapter!
Grey Steele fan - I don't think he wanted to defeat Ana's plan, but he was drunk and it slipped out.
Pielietje - I think I get as many reviews as other writers who are posting their first fanfic, but it can't be too much, right? ;D. And yes, from now on he will sleep in her bed. And yes, it was Taylor.