Thank you for your love and patience! I had put a lot of focus on my Darker story with the movie out. Here's the first of a couple new updates to come. xox
Get the boat back to shore!" I call out to Taylor, holding to Ana on stage as she buckles over in the throes of a contraction. "It's okay, baby," I say to her. "I have you."
"I'll alert the captain, sir." Taylor takes off, his branches catching on everything in his way, including Tilly's mother's hairpiece. But, he doesn't stop. That purple tinted skunk clings to his cherries all the way to the wheel of the yacht.
"What happened?" Kavanagh asks, swishing that Betsy Ross skirt of hers our way. She's supposed to have sewn the flag, not worn the flag.
"Her water broke," I say as Ana clutches down on my arm. Hard.
"Her what?" Elliot asks. Is he really that much of an idiot?
"Her water! It broke!" I say, louder and with more pained frustration than I intended. Of course, that's probably also because Ana's nails are digging into the flesh of my arm. And when she does, all the lights on my jacket start flashing again.
"There's a hole in the ship and we're all gonna drownded down the ocean drain in the big flush to the poop bottom!" Fritzy yells out. Whatever the hell he's saying. Him and the toilet water of the sea again.
"Nobody's drowning!" I say. "She's having the babies! Now!"
"Yay! My brothers is coming! My brothers is coming!" Phoebe claps. Better than yelling Brit-shits again.
"Plot twist! Did Whipple really knock Dolly Madison up?" I can hear my grandfather ask from out in the audience.
"No, your grandson did," my grandmother says, giving the old man a swat.
I look out and realize everyone has turned their attention from the explosions of Irish glory in the sky to us on the stage. They think this is part of the play. How can they think this is part of the play? Oh right, open bar.
"The show is over!" I say, waving a hand in announcement and two mothers in the back wave back at me. "Thanks for coming, but America has its independence and everyone can go."
There are gasps and protests from the crowd. General disarray. Mostly around the bar and the nearly pillaged shellfish tower. You throw free vodka and a few crab legs and lobster tails around and these idiots would trade you their first born. That thing is massive—and disgusting, and I won't let Ana or any of the children within ten feet of it. Kavanagh always insists on having a raw bar at these things. She says it's classy. It's probably because she's really a shark and she likes to eat fresh and local.
"But, we're in the middle of the ocean," a horrified Tilly says. She's scanning the audience, I'm sure in search of that phony theatre critic.
"And I haven't had my sex on the beach," some mother calls out, holding up her cocktail. What a disaster.
Bang bang bang.
More green explosions popping off in the Seattle sky. How many Irish fireworks have to die for this celebration to?
"We're only a little ways out and we're sailing back to shore," I say. "We need to get Ana to the hospital."
Damn, I knew Ana shouldn't have been up and acting on the boat today. We had this all planned. A C-section on a common Thursday. Nothing bad happens on a Thursday. Especially when it's common.
More and more people are swirling around. How many fucking people did we invite today? I'm wondering where the red coats put those super soakers they used in the show, so I can spray bystanders away.
"Everyone stand back!" I yell out. "Stop aggravating my wife and go stuff your face with crab legs." They disperse quickly in search of claw meat.
"Is it better?" I hold Ana close and kiss her on the head as she lets out a breath, her face tucked into my chest.
She nods. "The contraction is over. I'm okay."
"I need to get you out of this costume and into bed," I say, loosening the tie at her enormously pregnant waist. "I'll take you downstairs to our room."
"No, Christian," Grace says, joined by the rest of the booze cruise quartet and Ray. "You can't do any of that after the water breaks. She needs to stay clean and unobstructed."
"What? Mom, I want her to get into her sweats so she can be comfortable and rest." My mother always thinks I'm trying to get one last one in for the road.
We haven't even been allowed to do any of that! There's been no obstruction for days!
"Christian, if I lie down I won't get back up," Ana says.
"Well, at least sit."
"But, I feel more like pacing."
"Mrs. Grey, what did we learn with Phoebe about gravitational pull and your multi-impregnated uterus?"
"What did we learn, Daddy?" Phoebe asks, scrunching her nose as she looks up at me.
"That neither of you do as you're told."
Ana acquiesces and I lead her to the rocker Betsy Ross used to sew the flag in. Of course Kate's ass has glittered it all up. It's like she rolled around in a sty full of metallic stars, otherwise called her marital bed. She's the living, breathing holiday aisle at Walmart.
"Ana, I can't believe you broke your water!" Kavanagh says. "I thought you were just a really good actress."
"Or you loved fireworks," Elliot says.
Bang bang bang.
Where the fuck is Taylor?!
"How do you break water?" Teddy asks.
"You could break it if it was frozen," Fritzy says. "I did it before with a hammer for fun when my mom made grown-up punch for her lady toy party."
"What's a lady toy party?" Teddy asks.
"Dolls!" I say fast.
"I want a lady toy party!" Phoebe screams out with her arms held high.
Oh Lord.
"Kids, take Mrs. Jones to get your mother some blankets from one of the bedrooms."
"Is she cold because her water's frozen?" Teddy asks.
"Yes."
Gail leads them all off. I kneel beside Ana and take her hands, warming them between my palms and with my breath.
"Christian, I'm not really cold."
"I'm not risking your being chilled in this sea air. Plus, I feel more productive if you're wrapped in blankets and I'm breathing on you."
"Ana, my baby, are you really in labor?" Carla asks, pushing forward. I roll my eyes. No, this is all a ruse to get the idiots off our boat.
"Yes, but I'm fine," Ana says. "Don't worry. You all are going to be grandparents again before you know it." She looks over at Mom and Dad, Bob, and Ray.
"Hot dog, my grandsons are coming on Independence Day!" Ray says. At least he's not drunk, he just appears that way in his Yankee Doodle costume. He actually has a big piece of macaroni in his hat. I thought it was a feather they just called macaroni and not actual dried pasta. And that's quite large for macaroni, it's more like manicotti. "My favorite holiday, did you all know that?"
"Yes," everyone says in unison.
"I remember the day you were born," Carla says, clutching Ana's hand and kneeling as she starts to sob. "Your father was so proud...he was the best man I've ever known— the love of my life. No one could compare."
This little love letter would be sweet if her second husband and current husband weren't looking on.
"And the pain, was so horrible! I nearly bled to death right on that table after they sliced me open. I vowed never to give birth again—"
"Thank you, Carla," I say, sternly. Thank God she wasn't around in the delivery room for the first two.
"Oh Ana, Christian, I'm so proud," Grace says and weeps into Carrick's shoulder. "We're going to have new grandbabies to call us Grand-pa-pa and Grand-ma-ma again."
She's hammered. No one calls them that.
"Dad, are you okay?" I ask as he wipes his eye.
"Having new grandsons reminds me of that song Jose sang about his father." He sniffs. "It really got to me."
Jose Senior gives him an appreciative nod and my father puts an arm around him.
That song was for George Washington's father, not Jose Senior!
Wait, where the fuck did Jose Senior just appear from? His whole existence is like one of those trick photos they put on the the internet, where you have to examine a normal family snapshot closely to see a hidden demon in between Granny and Cousin Idiot.
Speaking of appearances from demons and Cousin Idiot, the photographer is coming over. His swagger and smile are different now that he's found his calling on the stage. He's been signing autographs for sex starved mom's out in the crowd. Next thing you know he'll be hawking quill tip pens and father and son signed CD's on his Instagram account.
"Ana! Dios Mio!" he says. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, don't worry about me, everyone. I've been through this before."
"Not with two at once," I say.
"Christian's right," Jose says. I hate it when he calls me that. "I would take pictures, but I put my camera away for the theatre today." He's serious about this shit. He's even talking with a weird slightly British accent. The kind that's less English and more bullshit. This happens to American actors when the stick up their ass has reached their throat. What the fuck would he take pictures of right now anyway? The puddle? Her pain? And they call me a fucking sadist.
"Thank God for small favors," I mutter, but Ana hears me and nudges my arm in admonishment.
There's a pop in the sky and more orange and green rain down.
"Why are the fireworks green?" Elliot asks. He's just noticing this.
"Green is an early patriotic color," I say.
"Like for money?" he asks and I roll my eyes.
"That's how Wall Street was invented," I say.
"Really... cool."
What an idiot.
Where the fuck is Taylor?!
Phoebe and Teddy run up with their blankets. From the looks of it, Ana's about to hibernate for winter.
"I bringed you my bluest one so my brothers would feel good to see their color." Phoebe says.
"I have my Seahawks one. They could get happy to be with the winning team right at the beginning of their life," Teddy says.
"Very nice, kids," I say. I think the kids have misunderstood and think the babies will be born directly into these blankets. Oh God, that could happen if we don't get this boat back.
"Daddy," Phoebe says, tugging on my sleeve. "I bringed my doctors kit, so I could keep check on my brothers and pop-a-rate on Mommy if she gets too hurty." She pulls out the stethoscope and snugs the mirror onto her head.
"Okay, Dr. Grey, you keep watch," I say and she nods.
"Thank you, Phoebe and Teddy," Ana says and kisses each of their cheeks as I work to cover her properly.
"You, too Daddy," Ana says. "But, it's a little warm." Oh shit, I've mummified her in the things. I remove a little.
Suddenly, the boat jolts and stops and everyone gasps, looking around in panic.
The engine has stopped.
"Ahhhh!" Phoebe screams and jumps on me, nearly pummeling me over in my kneeled position, and wraps her arms around my neck. She's got her toy scalpel in hand and nearly stabs through my head.
"Cool, it's gonna be like the Titanic!" Teddy says.
"Iceberg dead ahead!" Fritzy calls out and they start running around like crazy, Fritzy playing attacking evil iceberg and Teddy playing the ship.
What the fuck was that jolt about?
"Christian, why did it do that?" Ana asks as I try to remove the arms of our daughter from around my neck. I hope she has this good of chokehold with boys in high school.
"Daddy, did we crash?" Phoebe asks.
"No baby, listen to me." Phoebe finally lets go and I hold to her and take Ana'a hand. "It's fine. You guys are safe. I will always make sure of that. They're just changing course, so we can get The Grace back to the dock."
"Dude, that felt wrong," Elliot says.
"What do you know about boats?" I glare at him.
"That they shouldn't stop fast and then not move."
"Well, I know about boats. We're fine." I kiss Phoebe on the head and squeeze Ana's hand.
But, he's right. Why aren't we moving? We haven't even turned? We're just stopped—dead in the water.
"I don't know, Christian. It seems weird." Kavanagh says.
"Yeah, it's rather odd," Jose says. The way he says rather makes me want to make a photographer sandwich between my fists. Inside it's all ham and cheese.
"Everyone just calm down," I say. "The boat will move shortly. You're stressing Ana out. She needs focus and calm."
"I'm not stressed out," she says.
"Well, I need calm and focus, then," I say. "So, everyone be focused and calm!"
"Ana, do you need some lemonade?" Mia says.
"Lemonade?" I ask. What the hell?
"A sip might be nice," Ana says.
"That's highly ill advised, Mrs. Grey," I say. "The acid and sugar could do numbers on your digestive system."
"If I'm popping two babies out and I can't have a sip of lemonade, I may do a number on you!"
Damn. Let the raging hormones begin.
"Noted," I say.
"I'll get it," Mia says.
"I'll come with you, my lady," Jose says. The fucker.
"Uncle Jose, can we get lem-o-lade with you?" Phoebe asks.
"Yeah, please Uncle Jose!" Ava says.
Why are they asking him and not their fathers?
"Sure kids, come on," Jose says and they follow.
"Make sure it isn't spiked!" I call after them. "I mean for Ana, not the kids! Well, the kids, either!" I clench my fists. "Sober lemonade for all!" I yell and heads turn.
"Boo!" a passing mom yells back.
"You were right," Ana says to me as I kneel before her again, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips.
"You won't drink that acidic mess of lemon bullshit after all?" I kiss her knuckles.
"No, about me going into labor. The nesting." She looks up at me. "How did you know?"
"Ana, I know your body better than anyone, including you." I lean in and kiss her forehead.
"You know your mother says you shouldn't try and turn me on." She smiles.
"For the only time in our history, I'm not." I kiss her nose.
"I'm scared Christian," Ana says, and her eyes are tearing up.
"About the boat? Oh baby, it's fine. I'll make sure of it." I wipe away a tear with my thumb.
"No, having two. It's going to be a lot. What if I'm not a good enough mother?"
"You're already the best mother!"
"But, what if I don't have enough time for everyone?"
"We'll do it together, baby." I stroke her hair. "Like always."
"Always," she whispers, a grin spreading across her beautiful face, and I kiss her lips softly.
"Sir," Taylor says, peeking out from across the deck and motioning for me to come over to him.
Fucking finally!
"Hold on a for a moment, Mrs. Grey." I kiss her again and motion for Kavanagh, who's sucking the meat out of a crab leg in between sucking face with my brother, to watch her.
"I was about to send a search team out for you," I say to Taylor as I walk up.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir."
"Why aren't we moving?"
"I talked to the captain, sir."
"Good. Why aren't we moving?"
"There's a problem, Mr. Grey."
"Yes, my wife's water just broke and why aren't we fucking moving?"
"This boat goes so fast!" Haskel says, tequila in one hand, shrimp in the other, as he looks off the side. "It's so damn fast it feels still!"
Oh my God.
"Sir, there's an electrical issue," Taylor says.
"What does that mean?" I swear, it takes him eight fucking sentences to spit out one!
"It means he can't get us back to shore until he fixes it. Something or other is blown."
"Something or other? Well, what the fuck is it—the something or the other?"
"At the moment it's neither. I'm not quite sure, sir, but we can't get to shore—"
"The shore is right there!" I point. "It's literally right the fuck there. If I could walk on water it would be an afternoon stroll."
"Yes, but we still have to sail back and dock, since none of us have developed that skill."
"Are you being comedic?"
"No, sir."
"I didn't think so. How long will this take to fix?"
"He hopes quickly, Mr. Grey."
"He hopes?! Quickly isn't a time frame. It's an excuse."
"I'll work with him, sir. Don't worry, she's probably just at the beginning of labor. We'll get this." He heads back.
"Taylor!" I call out to him and he turns expectantly. "Take off your fucking branches!"
"Oh yes, sir."
I'm pissed as I move back to Ana, but I can't let it show. I have to put on my happy face.
"Dude, you look like you're the one sucking on lemon," Elliot says, referencing my smile.
I see Mia and Jose have brought the lemonade and they're helping her sip through a straw. I'm sure the photographer is loving watching her suck.
"Not too much," I say and give him a pointed look. He backs off. Ana rolls her eyes, but thankfully she doesn't rip into me over it.
"Why aren't we moving?" Elliot asks.
"Because we're reversing course. It takes a minute to reverse course," I snap, trying to hush him up so Ana and the kids don't get frightened.
"It's been like twenty," Elliot says and I glare.
"Daddy, I think there is a puppy in Mommy's tummy, too," Phoebe says as she puts her stethoscope up to Ana's belly and listens with her eye. "And I think that my brothers are giving her to me."
"Really, well that will be a surprise to Chester," I say.
The rodent pops out of her coat, giving me all sorts of fuck you hand language and squeak obscenities. He's now wearing an American flag top hat that has tinsel fireworks shooting off of it. Gail is really a talent at rodent costuming. Well, Taylor is her husband, after all.
All this waiting is making me nervous.
"Ana, just relax," I order.
"I am."
"Good. Keep it going. I need to call Dr. Greene."
I step away and take out my phone and dial.
"Yes, Mr. Grey?" she answers. Why does she sound so pissed off? She's sitting Fourth of July poolside thanks to me. We have a strange relationship. Although Ana doesn't buy my theories, I know Dr. Greene secretly fucks with Ana's birth control to keep her pregnant so the checks keep coming, and I not so secretly love her for it. In a million years, I never would've dreamed I'd be in a codependent relationship with my OBGYN.
"Well, hello to you, too," I say. "I'm sorry to intrude on your backyard vacation time. How's Reginald?"
"Ronald."
"Right." That husband.
"It's the Fourth of July," she says. I can almost hear that husband in the background slurping his mai tai and sucking back grapes, his chest hair rustling in the wind of the fan blades as he basks in the joys of unemployment.
"Yes, I realize that as I'm standing here in a colonial wig and tights celebrating. But, my twin sons didn't get the memo to take the day off."
"What are you saying, Mr. Grey?"
"Ana's water broke!"
"Are you sure?"
"What do you mean am I sure? I saw it spill out all under her feet. She then screamed out in pain. She's in labor."
"How close are the contractions?"
"I don't know. She's only had one."
"Oh God!" Ana screams out, bloody murder, and the boat falls silent.
"Make that two. And they're a little too close together for comfort! What are we supposed to do?"
"Stay calm, keep her comfortable and make sure nothing foreign goes up her vagina."
"Nothing domestic has gone up there for days thanks to you, either." I swear, these women think I'm an animal.
"Alright, why don't you head to the hospital. I'll meet you there."
"We have to get off the boat first."
"The boat?"
"Yes, the boat. Remember, we were out on our boat, for the school play. The one you approved!"
"I thought you weren't going far out."
"We didn't. There's an electrical issue. They have to fix it before we can dock. But, I can see the dock."
I can also see that moron Taylor hired setting off more fucking fireworks! I wave my hand in the air at him to cut that shit out, but I guess he mistakes it for me telling him to do more. Soon the sky is filled with explosions and a haze of green and orange fog.
"How long will it take?" Dr. Greene asks.
"I don't have an ETA right now. I'll let you know when we get to shore." I hang up.
"Christian!" Ana calls and I run to be by her side again.
"These contractions are too strong!" she says.
"Don't worry, baby. We'll get you there. Nothing to worry about. Just changing course."
"We were changing course a half hour ago," Ana says, suspiciously.
"Yeah, why isn't the boat moving?" Kavanagh asks.
"Why are there still fireworks going off?" Elliot asks.
"I don't know!"
Bang bang bang.
"Are we okay, Daddy?" Phoebe asks.
"Yes, baby. Don't worry about a thing." I kneel to give her a hug. "Daddy has everything under control. Why don't you have Gail get you and Chester and the other kids cookies from the kitchen?"
"Can I bring my brothers one?"
"Sure, Princess." I kiss her head and Chester pops out again and snarls. I think she's painted his little nails electric blue.
"Okay, Daddy! I'll get sugar sprinkles!" She runs off and I see she finds Gail.
"Everything is fine," I whisper to my brother and Kavanagh, turning so Ana can't hear. "There's just a small electrical problem,"
"Electrical problem?" Kavanagh asks. "On water?"
"Oh shit, are we all going to be electrocuted, man?" Elliot asks.
"There aren't open wires on the water. It's to do with the engine."
"The engine doesn't work?" Mia asks, walking up with the photographer.
"I've worked on my great grandma's cars, I could help," Jose says. He's just feeling all manned up after his George Washington testosterone infusion. Why not beat his chest with motor work?
"It's fine. They're just tuning up a little issue and we'll be on our way. We're only a hop skip and a jump away from shore. Just don't get Ana upset!"
"Christian, I can hear you," she says. "I'm pregnant, not deaf!" She moans out in pain and I rush to her side.
"It's going to be fine, baby," I say as she clamps down on my hand, squeezes, then twists it into a position that's not natural for the human form, until she finally drops it when her pain subsides.
"Sir," Taylor calls out to me again. Oh good, his branches are gone and he's just in his moody brown poetry reading getup again.
"See, Taylor's calling me right now, it's probably all taken care of," I say to Ana and then give her a kiss on the head, before rushing over to him.
"Is it fixed?" I ask Taylor upon arrival.
"Not quite, sir."
"What is going on with this guy? I know everything about this boat. I'm going to help."
"Do you know how to purchase new plugs, get them delivered out onto the water on a holiday and put them in immediately, sir?"
"Yes, it's called money!" I look around. "This is bullshit. I'm talking to this captain. I'll give this hotshot a piece of my mind.
#######
This hotshot must be eighty—at least. More shot and less hot. He looks like one of my grandfather's poker buddies. The kind that plays for Cheetos at the retirement pavilion and asks you to pull his finger for laughs.
"The electrics aren't very good right now," Captain Al says. I wonder if there was a time he was alive when electricity wasn't a thing.
"What are you saying?" I ask.
"What?" He cups his ear.
"What. Are. You. Saying?" I ask louder.
"Speak up. I can't hear what you're saying."
"Taylor," I say, under my breath, though I'm sure Al couldn't hear me if I was talking regular. "Why is a man who belongs in a nursing home captaining my ship?"
"Because your regular co-captain was on vacation, and you said we could only hire very old men with problems in their basement to man the helm when Mrs. Grey was present."
"But, that's when I was driving the thing, too, and all I needed was backup. Today was a full deal!"
"It was only a pleasure cruise, a short way out. Much less than you normally do, sir."
"Well, we're a short way out and stuck."
"Back in Korea, we had an electrical incident like this..." Captain Al says.
"Oh yeah? And?"
"Yeah." And he says no more.
Oh my God.
"He's actually a decorated naval captain, sir," Taylor says. "He's extremely proficient and skilled. Except for times like this. He's not a gadget man, but he's wicked with manual efforts."
"I don't even want to know what that fucking means." I hold up a hand. "Taylor, I'm not taking this anymore. Let's get the lifeboat, load Ana and the kids and I inside, and I'll get us to shore."
"It's at the dock, Mr. Grey."
"Why is it there?"
"We took Tidwiler to the hospital in it, sir."
"Well, bring it back!"
"No one's there to drive it. Sawyer took him to the emergency and he's still there."
"What? Why?"
"He decided to stay until his next of kin arrrived."
"His next of kin is getting shitfaced on this boat!" I saw that wife doing shots with Carla and my mother.
"Forget Sawyer," I say. "Get someone back here to do it! And have them bring the necessary items to fix the boat."
"Yes, sir."
I race back up and over to Ana.
"Christian, why do you look so worried?" Ana asks.
"What? Why do you say that?"
"You're suspicious of something. Your brow is raised."
"No, Ana. My wig's just glued wrong."
"Are we moving yet?" my mother asks.
"No, you're just swaying," I say.
"Me, too," Carla says and they giggle.
"Sir," Taylor says, rushing up to me and motioning for me to step aside.
"What, do you have it figured out?" I ask as we convene at the back corner of the upper deck. "Did you get someone else to come out here?"
"Not yet, I just spoke to Sawyer, sir."
"Well, is he coming now?"
"No, he's still with Tidwiler."
"Well, tell him to leave his drunk ass and get over here!"
"He isn't intoxicated, sir."
"Well, I hope the fuck not. He's security."
"Not Sawyer, Tidwiler."
"What?"
"They think he's ill. From shellfish."
"Is he allergic?"
"No. Food poisoning."
"What are you saying?"
"The seafood tower, sir."
I look to the icy mess, deplete of all the offerings of the sea it hosted before.
All of the raw, in the sun all day offerings of the sea...
"Oh God! I'm going to be sick!" a woman yells and starts to vomit right on the planks at her feet.
"Eww, I feel sick," Kavanagh says, just below us on the lower deck.
"Maybe you're pregnant," Elliot says and she swats him, before running for the bathroom. He follows her.
"Dios Mio!" Jose says and starts to gag over a potted plant in the far corner.
Holy fuck.
"Are you telling me everyone on this boat who ate from that thing is about to be sick?" I ask Taylor.
"If the trend continues, sir."
And all at once, the pillaged shellfish tower starts to make a reappearance on the planks.
Again and again and again...
To be continued...