Grey Continued: Season 5, Episode 6

No email this time. Still training for my promotion. I’ll post as often as I can.

This is a work of creativity. As such, you may see words, concepts, scenes, actions, behaviors, pictures, implements, and people that may or may not be socially acceptable and/or offensive. If you are sensitive to adverse and alternative subject matter of any kind, please do not proceed, because I guarantee you’ll find it here. You have been warned. Read at your own risk.

I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the saga continues…

Season 5 Episode 6

ANASTASIA

It’s my babies’ first birthday!

I’m walking on sunshine making mental plans for their first birthday party tomorrow. I’ve counted the guests and I’m going through my phases of Better Homes and Gardens again, only this time, it’s the birthday edition—if there is such a thing—and I’m not depressed or running from dread. I’m so filled with glee that I could just burst. There’s no GEH or Helping Hands today as I have to be sure that everything is just right for Minnie and Mikey’s birthday.

My guest list is all set—small but large for a birthday for a couple of one-year-olds, but who cares? Nothing could ruin my mood today, but surprisingly, something pretty damn morbid made it a whole lot better. The television is playing in the family room and I’m listening to the local news channel. I’m sitting at the breakfast bar working on the menu for tomorrow’s party when something on the news catches my attention.

“Within the last hour, we’ve learned that Washington State Penitentiary inmate and former Seattle socialite Elena Lincoln has suffered a massive stroke…”

I rubberneck to the television and feel my body floating into the family room. I don’t even remember getting out of my seat. I watch as a picture of an extremely much older-looking Elena Lincoln flashes across the screen. She didn’t look like that when she went in. I know she didn’t. Her natural hair had grown out, and it was brown. This woman, though she looks much older, has blonde hair… and she’s smiling… and she’s outside! And she looks like she’s wearing makeup! Where did this picture come from?

I’m pondering what the fuck is really going on in that goddamn prison when this bitch is supposed to be in maximum security and she’s able to get her hands on hair dye and makeup… and she’s fucking outside! I can’t see the surroundings behind her or if she’s wearing prison garb, so she could be in the exercise yard for all I know, but hair dye? And makeup? Tupac couldn’t even get a decent haircut when he was in jail!

I’ve missed the entire newscast lost in my wondering, and I scramble for the remote to rewind live TV. I’d die of suspense waiting for the story to come back on.

“Ana, what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

I hear Gail’s voice, but I’m too focused on getting back to the story that I don’t even respond to her. I get back to the point where I see She-Thing’s picture on the screen and stop the rewind just before the story begins. I listen to the last bits of a story about the homeless people under the viaduct before the story begins to play again.

“Within the last hour, we’ve learned that Washington State Penitentiary inmate and former Seattle socialite Elena Lincoln has suffered a massive stroke. Lincoln was administered a routine flu shot when shortly thereafter, she began to show symptoms of a stroke. Prison officials indicate that Lincoln complained that she was dizzy, so she was instructed to lie down. Her symptoms became increasingly worse until she became unresponsive…”

“Is she dead?” I ask aloud. The words shocked me coming out of my mouth, but I don’t regret it. I want to know if the Pedo-Bitch is dead!

“Lincoln appears to have been in a coma since Wednesday, but has regained consciousness a short while ago…”

The Bitch is stomping her feet like Rumpelstiltskin while I attempt to appear unaffected.

“Although she is awake, Lincoln appears to have suffered extreme paralysis as a symptom of the stroke. At this time, she is unable to walk, move, or speak. There is currently no information on if the condition is permanent.”

Well, that’s something. The Bitch settles a bit.

“Questions arose as to whether Lincoln could have had an adverse reaction to the flu shot. Toxicology reports tested for the flu vaccine and revealed that she was given the same strain of the virus given to all the inmates and staff of the prison. Reports indicate that there was no way the flu shot could’ve caused a stroke.

“Lincoln will be moved to a minimum-security prison where a special team will oversee her care in hopes of a recovery.”

“She had a stroke from a flu shot?” I ask aloud.

“That’s impossible,” Grace says, and I forget that she was in the room. I look over at her.

“Not that I really care what happens to the bitch,” I tell her. “To be honest, it would have been good news had they said she was dead, but a stroke from a flu shot? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Well, they clearly said it couldn’t have been caused by the flu shot,” she replies. “It has to be coincidence. Maybe she got some really bad news, or she had high blood pressure or something. There has to be an explanation.” She shrugs.

There is.

It suddenly dawns on me—my husband’s words a few days ago when I asked how things went with Greta Ellison.

“Nobody’s dead… except the book, and it won’t be back.”

Nobody’s dead except the book, and it won’t be back. That is so ominous, but I guess he’s right. The book, indeed, will not be back.

“Damn,” I say, gazing at the television, the news moving on to another story. “Karma’s a real bitch.”

“You look relieved,” Gail says, her brow raised when I turn to look at her.

“I am,” I reply. “There’s no use in lying. That woman is pure evil, and I’m surprised that it hasn’t consumed her from the inside out well before now.” Gail twists her lips.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” she says matter-of-factly, “the bitch shot my husband.”

Once I get over the initial shock of Elena’s fate, I walk around for the rest of the day on a damn cloud. I consider whatever happened to that bitch a necessary evil. She’s one miserable person who was hell-bent on destroying the lives of potentially dozens of families. I wholeheartedly believe that the world would be a better place without her, and I don’t regret those feelings. I only regret that the stroke didn’t finish her off.

Second only to my two darling bundles of joy, it’s the best present I’ve gotten in a year.

My husband didn’t seem surprised.

“Did you hear about She-Thing?” I ask when he gets home.

“I sure did,” he says, coming into the family room as I’m decorating for the birthday party. “I wish the bitch had died.”

“I said the same thing,” I reply. “Maybe we should ease up on that before we bring some bad Karma onto ourselves. “

“No problem. I don’t want to talk about her anyway. So, a month ago, Santa Claus shit all over the house. Now, we’ve got Minnie and Mickey Mouse droppings.” I glare at him.

“First of all, you better be glad my children aren’t down here to hear you cursing or I’d find some way to make you pay for it, and I don’t mean a swear jar. Second, I’m having a great time, so don’t you come raining on my parade, Christian Grey!” I’m pointing at him with a Minnie Mouse wand made of a black glitter Minnie head with a pink glitter bow on it attached to a wooden dowel.

“Careful where you shake that thing!” he warns. “I don’t want fairy dust all over me!”

“Fuck you, Dr. Killjoy,” I declare.

“Oooh! Who needs the swear jar now?” he teases, capturing me in his arms and tickling me, his fingers madly manipulating my ribs.

“Christian, stop!” I giggle helplessly.

“What? What was that? I don’t think I heard you…”

“Stop or I’ll pee myself!” I warn. He stops tickling me and pulls me into his arms.

“Well, we don’t want that,” he says, kissing me softly.

“You seem in a better mood today,” I observe, closing my eyes as he peppers gentle kisses on my lips, my neck, and my jaw.

“It was a better day,” he says between kisses. “Somebody came in there and put the fear of God into my staff and they’ve been getting their shit together.”

“Mmm… have they now?” I say, still absorbing his tender kisses.

“Mmm-hmm,” he says, gently tasting my skin.

“Sheesh, get a room,” Jason says, coming from the mudroom and through the family room.

“We don’t need a room. We have a house,” Christian retorts, “and you’re in it.”

“Along with a very impressionable teenager,” he remarks. Oops, he’s right. Sophie should be around any minute to help me with the hors d’oeuvres and sandwich fixings for tomorrow.

“Look who’s talking,” I say as Christian releases his embrace. “You come in kissing Gail every day.” He pauses as he reaches his wife to do just that.

“I kiss her,” he concurs, “I don’t maul her in the middle of the family room. We’re not making out amongst the Disney paraphernalia. Hello, Love,” he says, turning to his wife and kissing her sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Christian says, forcefully pulling me back into his arms. “I’ll maul my wife whenever and wherever I damn well please… but I will be mindful of the teenager.” He looks at me again and pops a fast, hard kiss on my lips eliciting a giggle from me.

“So, what’s going on at the Ivory Palace?” I ask my husband. “Finney and Ros finally get their asses in gear?”

“Among other things,” he says. “Everybody’s waiting for the Queen of Hearts to come breezing into the office… ‘Off with their heads!’” he jests, still holding me close to him while ceasing his kissing. “It’s one thing to have one hardnosed boss, but two… and then whatever gets pass me or—heaven forbid—you, is now being picked up by the executive team who are also afraid of having their craniums severed.” He raises a brow.

“Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere!” I declare. “That’s all we needed in the first place. Why the fuck did I have to come down there and put some fire under these assholes? And what’s with the Queen of Hearts analogy? That woman was insane. I’m not that bad.”

Queen of Hearts

“Well, get used to it because that’s what the ‘peasants’ are calling you,” he says. “And the Queen of Hearts may have been insane, but she was powerful. Insane or not, if she said a head came off, a head came off, and you proved that by sending Mosele home for a short ‘vacation’ to ponder his position. And let’s not forget the fact that you came breezing in there that Monday morning in this fierce red dress daring someone to test you. And those who did were made quick examples—not down the line, but in that same meeting. I think these people know who their dealing with.”

“Must we refer to them as peasants?” I ask. It sounds so unpleasant and elitist.

“If they can call you ‘Queen of Hearts,’ I can call them ‘peasants.’ And trust me, they have a plethora of unsightly names for me, so I’m being kind.”

Jesus, I would prefer not to have the company have the us/them mentality, but unfortunately, it looks like it may be what we need to get things done.

“Speaking of the executive team, how’s Ros doing with her dilemma?” I ask.

“I have no idea,” he tells me. “I don’t want to be in her personal life that way. While I truly do sympathize with her familial woes, I’m sure that I would prefer not to be in her proverbial bedroom that way. I can’t empathize with her at all because she made a vow to one woman when her heart was with someone else. I can’t speak to what she should have done or what she should do now. I can only say that it’s not my arena.”

I try not to frown. Ros is his second in command, so he very well should be concerned about her familial woes. However, I guess as the psychiatrist between us, I’m going to have to keep an eye on the situation myself. However, his reaction—though very calm and PC—is not getting past me.

“What?” he asks, obviously noting my contemplation.

“You have some very distinct opinions about this,” I say. He raises a brow. “I live with you. I’m married to you. I fuck you. I can read between the lines,” I say, answering his unasked question. He adjusts his posture, about to make a point.

“I can clearly say that’s something that I would never do,” he says. “When I asked you to marry me, that’s where I wanted to be. I had the choice to stay in my lifestyle and be with whomever I chose whenever I chose—that’s not what I wanted. I wanted you. I want you. So, the concept of wanting someone else after I said that I wanted you is something I can’t fathom. But you…”

He pauses. What the fuck? What about me?

“I’m with you. I love you. I know you well enough to know that this is where you want to be. That whole Westwood bullshit was a blip in the radar for a few different reasons, but I know this is where you want to be. The thought that you would marry me while you still had unclear feelings for someone else only to have those feelings resurface years after we said our vows—I would be murderous. I wouldn’t even know how to handle that.

“So, right now, while I am concerned about Ros, I have to compartmentalize this whole thing. What she did was selfish and cruel, and now she’s trying to find the easiest way out of the situation she created. She totally created this monsoon, and now she’s trying to get out of it without getting wet. And where the fuck does that leave Gwen?”

He’s beginning to get angry, but I can see him visibly trying to shake off his anger with Ros.

“I see,” I say, calmly. “So, your empathy strikes again, but this time, it’s striking with Gwen. How does that feel?”

He raises his gaze to me and I’m looking at him with soft but inquisitive eyes, nothing confrontational. He couldn’t empathize with Ros because he would never do that. The only thing that he could do is put himself in Gwen’s shoes, and it’s infuriating him.

“Pretty pissed off,” he says, his voice calmer, “which is why I can’t talk to her about it. When her personal shit interfered with her job, I got involved. Where it doesn’t interfere with her job, I’m out of it.” He shakes his head. I nod and put my hand on his cheek.

“I think that’s best,” I tell him. “I’ll handle it. Like you said, as long as she does her job, right?” He closes his eyes and nods, leaning into my hand.

“Thank you for not getting mad,” he says. I scoff a laugh.

“You almost had me for a minute there, Grey, but luckily, I learned to listen,” I say with a wink and a smile. We hear the clearing of someone’s throat, and we turn to see Marilyn standing there.

“Um, I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she says. Christian laughs. I turn to him.

“What?” I ask.

“She just did a ‘Jason,’” he says with mirth. My brow furrows.

“A ‘Jason?’” I ask. Christian cocks his head at me.

“If we’re in the midst of a conversation—or anything else—when Jason walks into the room, what does he do to get my attention?” I roll my eyes.

“You mean besides tell us to get a room?” I say, turning to Marilyn. “You’re not interrupting, Mare, what’s up?”

“I got a call from Alex. He said he tried to call you twice but no luck.” I begin looking around for my phone. Where is my phone?

“Hell, I don’t know where my phone is. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. He said that you were looking for a final background check on Jade Goldwin. He emailed it to you,” she says. Oh, yeah, her.

“Thanks, Mare. Did he say that there was anything to be concerned about?”

“Not to me,” she says with a shrug. “I would think if there was cause for concern, he’d ask me to get you to the phone, so I would say not.” I nod.

“I agree, but I’ll look at it anyway,” I say. She nods and smiles before heading back off towards the elevator.

“Jesus, has she lost more weight?” I was hoping he wouldn’t notice that, but she has. My silence is enough for him. “Butterfly, this is not good. She’s really going to hurt herself if she doesn’t stop this!”

“I know, I know,” I lament. “I’m the doctor, remember?” He gazes at me for a moment.

“Her parents aren’t here,” he says, firmly. “She doesn’t have a significant other anymore. I hate to do this, but it’s you, baby. It’s all you.” I roll my eyes.

“I know, Christian, I’m just trying not to ambush the girl right now…”

“You may not have a choice. She’s slowly killing herself!”

“She just got back…” I excuse.

“Nearly three weeks ago!” he counters. I deflate. He’s right. She needs to eat.

“I’ll talk to her,” I say.

“You may need to do more than that,” he cautions.

“Like what?” I recounter.

“I don’t know, but you may need to do more than that! This is serious! She’s really hurting herself right now.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” I say, hoping to halt the conversation. Jesus, I’m not the one starving myself for crying out loud. I just have to figure out what to do.

“So…” he says, stalling, “what’s with this Jade Goldwin?” Holy cow, that’s the way to change gears.

“She’s coming to the party,” I tell him. “She’s in Maxie and Mindy’s Mommy and Me class, and she has a son the same age as Mindy. I just wanted to vet her before she came to my house and head her off if necessary.”

“Oh? How did you meet her?” he asks. Now he’s interested. Good grief.

“Maxie and I were shopping, and we bumped into her at the Marketplace.” He nods. I know he wants more information. I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time. Where the hell is my phone?

“Keep doing that and they might get stuck that way,” he says, swiping his phone and touching the screen. I’m about to roll my eyes at him again when I hear the muffled sound of our song playing. I look around and back at him, and he’s holding his phone up, showing me that he’s calling me. Where the fuck is my phone?

It goes to voicemail and he calls it again… and again. It took four times for me to find the damn thing between the sofa cushions. How the hell did it get there?

I swipe the screen and the battery is nearly dead. It’s a good thing I found it, or I may have never found it.

“Don’t you have a case or a clip or something for that?” he asks.

“No, Mr. Grey, I keep it in my purse, and I didn’t go anywhere today!” I snap.

“Touchy,” he teases.

“Annoying,” I counter in the same sing-songy voice. I open my email and click on the pdf attached.

“Yeah, she’s Jane Q. Housewife,” I say, scrolling through the document. “Twenty-nine, married, four boys just like Maxie said.”

“And her husband?” Christian asks.

“Sells insurance for a local company,” I tell him. “Small beans.” He nods.

“Who’s coming?” he asks.

“Just Jade and her youngest,” I say, closing my phone. “Maxie vouches for her, so she can’t be all bad.”

“Who all is coming?” he asks.

“All the grandparents, the godparents—Mia bowed out this time, the Scooby Gang… except for Gary, Luma and Herman and the girls, Marlow’s bringing Maggie and probably a date…” Sophie will love that, “… and our newest guest Jade and her little boy, English.”

“English?” Christian says in horror.

“I didn’t name the kid,” I say, with a shrug.

“Dear Lord,” Christian says. “That poor kid is going to be teased incessantly.”

“You don’t know that, Christian,” I scold.

“Baby, I’ve traveled the world and I’ve never met anybody anywhere named English,” he points out.

“Okay, so he has a unique name,” I argue, “It’s not wild or crazy, like Fallopion or something. It’s just different.”

“You’re so sweet,” he says, stroking my cheek. “He’s going to get teased. Whoever came up with that name, that’s grounds for divorce.” I gape at him.

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask in horror. He raises a brow.

“Am I?” he asks, impassively.

“You’re saying that when we have another kid, if for some reason you’re indisposed and I come up with a name that you don’t like, you’ll divorce me?” My voice rises to a squeak on the last two words and I think hearing it come out of my mouth makes him realize just how ridiculous he sounds.

“Well, no, but you wouldn’t name our child something ridiculous like English!” he quips.

“And what if I did?” I say, putting my hands on my hips.

“Then there would definitely be some papers filed somewhere,” he says, “maybe not for divorce, but we would be changing that kid’s name. And anyway, it’s a moot point because we sat down and picked our children’s names together, months before they were born. So, why are we arguing about a kid who isn’t even ours?”

I twist my lips and fold my arms. The argument does seem a tad ridiculous.

“You were the one who started talking about divorce,” I pout.

“Yeah, and you were the one to actually take it literally,” he retorts. “Divorce you? Over a name, even? Seriously?” Asshole.

“Be useful and grab that garland,” I pout.

“Hey, wait, I’m not getting roped into decorating,” he protests.

“Oh, yes, you are!” I whirl around on him. “You came in here pissing on my happy place then we’re talking about everything from Elena to Queen of Hearts to Ros to Westwood to Marilyn to some random kid named English to divorce and dammit I want my happy place back!” I say the entire sentence without breathing and he just gazes at me.

“I got your happy place right here,” he remarks, matter-of-factly and I roll my eyes for the 101st time today.

“Grab the damn garland, Christian.”

*-*

It’s Saturday, the day that we meet with Artemis and Savvina, but that’s not until much later. Right now, Minnie and Mickey Mouse decorations are exploding all over my dining room and family room much like yuletide exploded all over my house for Christmas. I’m definitely in the mood to celebrate.

There are two giant Number One balloons to greet you at the door. One has a Mickey Mouse head and the other, a Minnie Mouse head. There’s also a Minnie and Mickey sign that reads, “Welcome to the birthday clubhouse.” Once they don their Minnie or Mickey Mouse party hats, the kids get to munch on “Daisy’s garden vegetables,” “Goofy grapes,” or various melons cut in the shape of Mickey’s head and garnished with blueberries and pineapple. There’s always a way to get kids to eat healthy if you make it fun.

They also get to build ham and turkey sandwiches out of bread, turkey, ham, and cheese all cut in the shape of Mickey’s head with choices of lettuce, tomato, pickles, and condiments as well—or they can choose to have Mickey shaped chicken nuggets or a hot dog from the “Hot Diggity Dog” bar. There are games and bubbles and prizes to keep them occupied, but let’s face it—who’s not going to have fun in Mickey Mouse land?

I was smart enough to know that “Hot Diggity” dogs and chicken nuggets wouldn’t cut it for the parents. So, we have the option of what I call “Chicken Bacon Crack Pinwheels,” Rueben pinwheels, quinoa salad, and seven-layer dip, along with the aforementioned fruits and vegetables. The drinks were either “Pirate Punch” or “Sea Water” from the Pirate Mickey drink bar, and various Mickey and Minnie Mouse cupcakes are spread around the house, along with the Mickey/Minnie birthday cake on the kitchen counter.

Sophie has help me with most of the same-day preparation, like she always does. She wants to be a chef or a caterer, and she loves preparing the food and decorating the house. She’s so grown up for her age that I’m a little afraid that she might be missing her childhood. With a mother like Shalane, though, she’s probably already missed it. She’s seen too much for her age, and once you see certain things, you just can’t unsee them.

Sophie shed her purple tresses shortly after her last altercation with Marlow’s most recent date on Christmas, and after a visit to Miana’s, Jason is glad to see her enter with shiny, beautiful, billowing blonde waves. She actually looks a little older, but it’s most likely because that purple hair made her look so much younger to me.

She gleefully helps me finish setting up for the twins’ party which, as we all know, is really a celebration for the parents, but I don’t care. My little brother will be here. Max is bringing Mindy and I even told her that she was clear to bring Jade to the party since they’re such good friends. I should definitely get to know her if they’re that close.

Celida and Mariah will be here. At the tender age of 6 and 8, they love parties for whatever reason. Maggie’s coming, too. I don’t know if Marlow will be bringing a date this time, but I almost wish that he wouldn’t. It usually ends miserably for him and for Sophie. Until she gets over this crush that she has on him, she’s not going to behave. She’s a woman scorned at 13, and most women scorned don’t even know how to behave as adults!

Mia has decided to sit this one out, but the grandparents and godparents will be here, and of course, our resident waif, Marilyn. I hope I can get her to eat some cake or something before Christian declares martial fucking law!

The guests are now arriving and surprisingly, Maxie, Phil, and Jade arrive before Al.

“Forgive me,” Jade begins, “if I seem a little out of place today. I can’t believe I’m here—this place is absolutely astonishing. And the decorations—dear God! Did you do this all yourself or did you have help?”

“Well, both, actually. I did it myself, but I had a little help, too. My biggest helper was this young lady right here…” I snag Sophie as she’s walking by. “This is my resident party helper, Sophia. Sophie, this is Jade, and you know Maxie and Phil.”

Sophie smiles and waves shyly.

“Hi,” she says sweetly.

“Hi, Sophia,” Jade says, “or do you prefer Sophie?”

“Sophie’s fine,” she says. Jade smiles.

“This is my son, English,” she says. English is older than the twins, but he manages a smile and a wave from his mother’s arms.

“English,” Sophie says, as if testing the word, “I’ve never heard of that as a name before.”

“He’s named after his paternal grandfather,” she says. “My husband insisted.”

“Oh,” I say, “so it’s a family name.” She nods.

“I would have chosen something normal, like Chad, or Blake, or Worcestershire,” she says, rolling her eyes, and I know the last one was a joke, but with a name like English, you can’t be too sure.

“It’s unusual,” I say, “but it’s nice.”

“Thank you,” she says. “It does sound distinguished at the very least.” I see my husband and decide to poke a little fun at him.

“Christian, come, meet our guest,” I say loudly so that he can’t ignore me or try to get away. He raises his brow at me because he knows what I’m doing, but I don’t care.

“This was my other helper,” I say to Jade when he comes over to us. “He hung a piece of garland or three.”

“A piece of…” My husband trails off in mock horror and I pretend to ignore him.

“Christian, this is Jade and her son, English,” I say, introducing them.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says with a nod of his head.

“Likewise. Thank you for having me,” Jade replies cordially.

English is an unusual name, isn’t it, Christian?” My husband throws a side gaze at me. “It’s a family name,” I tell him. “He’s named after his grandfather.” Still grounds for a divorce, Sir?

“Is that so?” Christian says. “Tell me, what is the origin of that name.”

“I have no idea,” Jade says. “As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m assuming it’s English! I can’t even derive a nickname from that, so I just call him Eddie.

My knees buckle and I’m literally choking on nothing. Christian catches me as I’m going down and makes an excuse to get me away from Jade. He takes me over to the pirate bar and I sit down.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just wasn’t ready. It caught me off guard,” I excuse.

“Okay, so you can just sit here until you’re back on guard,” he says, kneeling in front of me.

“Really, Christian, I’m fine,” I assure him. “That’s just the last name I expected to hear at my children’s birthday party.”

“Well, maybe Maxine should tell her friends to do some homework before she brings them around,” he states.

“Oh, please,” I lament, “aren’t I considered enough of a prima donna to the public without people having to know my life history before they visit me? Besides, what would we do, tell her to change her son’s nickname because of my ex-boyfriend? Just let it go.”

I raise my head just in time to see Maggie giggling with Sophie, and a few moments later, Marlow enters… with a date, and not the girl from Christmas. Jesus, what was that, a month ago?

“You may need to talk to him,” I say to Christian while gesturing to Marlow. He looks over his shoulder at Marlow, then back at me.

“What?” he asks

“The girls,” I whisper harshly. “He brings a different girl to every event.”

“He’s young, Butterfly,” he excuses. “He’s not attached to anybody and I know he practices safe sex.” I know that too, but…

“He brought one girl to Mia’s wedding in September; another one to Thanksgiving; another one to Christmas; and now another one to the twins’ birthday. That’s four girls in five months! You don’t see anything wrong with that?” Besides the fact that it’s totally tormenting Sophie, it just doesn’t look good… and it’s not smart!

“He’s a young boy sowing his oats like young boys do. He’s no dummy. He won’t get caught up in a bad situation. I don’t see the problem.” I cock my head at him.

“Oh? So, if Michael brings a string of girls home from the ages of 15 to 18, you wouldn’t have a problem with that?” I ask.

“No,” he says matter-of-factly. Is that so, Mr. Grey? I fold my arms and square off.

“And if Mackenzie brings home a string of boyfriends?” I say, and just let the words hang in the air. His face blanches and he begins to look a little ill.

Mm-hmm, that’s what I thought. What’s good for the goose is going to be good for the gander in this house, Grey. So, if you don’t want to see your little princess doing it, don’t think I’m going to allow little Master Grey to get away with it either.

“Talk to him,” I say, firmly before rising from the breakfast bar and going back to the dining room.

I greet my guests and assure everyone that I’m okay, chalking my coughing spell up to an unexpected bout with my own saliva. Marlow introduces me to his date—Tasha, I think her name is. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure that I won’t see her again after today.

Sophie and Maggie have taken to getting the children situated and playing “Pin the bow on Minnie” when Al finally decides to grace us with his presence.

“Sorry we’re late,” he says, and that’s all he gives me by way of an explanation, not that I need one. He and James are both as loose as a noodle and look like fresh, new daisies. I’m sure sex was involved.

“You nearly missed your godchildren’s party, you sex fiend,” I say, my voice low.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says waving me off. “You haven’t even opened presents yet.” I roll my eyes. “Who’s the bird with Maxie?”

“That’s Jade,” I tell him. “She’s in a Mommy and Me class with Maxie, which they probably had to miss to come to this party.” He looks at me.

“You sound a little snippy,” he observes. I glare at him.

“Jealous,” I say, honestly. “Maxie got married before me; had her baby before me; and now she’s moving on to new friends without me. Yeah, I’d say I’m just a little snippy.” I look over at Jade and Maxie having a conversation with Val.

“Jade calls her Max,” I say with disdain. “Her son’s name is English.” Al frowns.

“English? That’s his name?” he asks. I nod. “That’s odd. Where did that come from?”

“Apparently, it’s a family name. And get this, his nickname is Eddie.” Al literally winces at the mention of the name. “Yeah, my sentiments exactly, only a little more graphic.”

“Well, she seems like a nice enough person,” he says.

“She is,” I admit. “I just resent the fact that she’s apparently taking my place.” Al scoffs.

“Darling Jewel, she may be friends with our Maxine, but trust me—nobody can replace you.” He puts his hand on my shoulder.

“You’re sweet,” I tell him as we go to join the party.

Everything is going well, and the children are having a really good time playing games, opening prizes, and blowing bubbles. I’m with Minnie most of the day, standing her on her feet and coaxing her to walk with me, which she does. She’s doing very well keeping her balance and standing for several moments until she realizes that she’s standing, or she moves too fast to get to some new toy or adventure. Then she’s back on her hands and knees again. I think it’s adorable and, sure enough, after a few hours of guidance, she’s toddling around more than she’s crawling. Christian gets a few videos on his phone since I’m detained with entertaining. We’re just finishing singing “Happy Birthday” to the twins and I’m cutting and serving cake when I hear it.

“Is constantly twirling your hair an art form or can anybody do it?”

Oh, dear God. I raise my gaze to see Sophie, once again, facing off with Marlow and his date. Tasha looks at Sophie, appalled.

“Is this little brat talking to me?” she asks Marlow while pointing at Sophie. Marlow appears to be trying to smooth things over while Sophie stands there looking like she had nothing to do with Tasha’s current mood.

“No, Marlow! Does she speak to any other adult in this room that way?” Tasha shoots. I know what that means. Marlow is 17, so this girl is probably 18, and by pointing out that she’s an adult, she most likely just turned 18 and she’s smelling her adultness. I sigh.

“Nice one, Sophie,” I lament quietly.

“I don’t care,” I hear Tasha say. “In our house, children know to stay in a child’s place. Someone apparently forgot to teach her that!” She is furious. She throws a murderous look at Sophie and walks away.

“Seriously, Sophie?” Marlow hisses. “Jesus Christ, what’s going on with you?” and now, he’s livid, too as he goes after Tasha. I take this opportunity to make my way over to Sophie.

“Sophia!” I say quietly, “seriously, you’re going to have to stop this. Marlow is going to despise you if you keep this up.”

“I wasn’t trying to tease her,” she excuses, “it just slipped out. She stood there the entire time twirling her hair around her finger. Jesus, is she that flighty or is it a nervous tick?”

“And if it wasn’t her hair, it would be her shoes, or her dress, or her voice. This is getting out of hand!”

“What does it matter what I say?” she says. “He still going to do her.”

“Sophie!” I exclaim appalled.

“They’re so obvious! How can he not see it?” My question is how can you see it so clearly? “How can he even like these girls? They’re scatterbrains. They have the attention span of a goldfish. None of them even show up again after the first time!”

That’s what I said, but that could have a lot to do with you.

“Well, for whatever reason he likes them, he likes them, and you’re going to have to stop being rude to them. For one thing, it’s not very ladylike at all. And for another thing, I defended you when that girl passively aggressively insulted you at Mia’s wedding. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see how she made you feel although Marlow was clueless. What ground do I have to stand on right now when you’re behaving the same way she did? And third, and most important…” I put my hand on her shoulder and hold her gaze.

“I’m very fond of you, Sophie,” I say. “I consider us good friends, but I don’t like for anyone to insult the guests that come to my home and you do that repeatedly with Marlow’s dates. If they lash out at you first, I completely understand your need to defend yourself. But when you say disparaging things against them for no reason, that’s unacceptable behavior, Sophie.”

This is the first time that I’ve had to scold Sophie and I really don’t like it, but it’s necessary. She shrinks a bit as my words sink in.

“I really didn’t think about it that way,” she says. “I still think they’re flighty little thots, but I don’t want to make you guys look bad. I’m sorry, Ana.” I nod.

“You might want to apologize to Marlow and his date,” I tell her. She grimaces.

“I can’t do that,” she squeals quietly. “He already hates me, and I couldn’t face him right now… or her. Please don’t make me do that I’ll die!” She says the last part all in one breath, and I really believe she would just keel over and die if she had to face Marlow right now.

“Well, I can’t and won’t force you to do anything, Sophie, but you might want to think about your behavior and what damage has already been done.” She sighs heavily as if I’ve just pardoned her from the death penalty.

“Sophia!”

I discover that I may have spoken too soon. Gail’s voice interrupts our conversation and she is none too happy as she comes marching over to us.

“Sophia, is it true that you said something unkind to Marlow’s date?” Gail accuses. Sophie’s mouth falls open and she looks in horror over at Marlow. When I glance at him, he and his date are looking in our direction like they’re waiting for the ax to fall. Oh, this is just great.

“I can’t believe it,” Sophie says incredulously, her voice three octaves higher than normal. “He snitched on me?”

“So, that means that it’s true,” Gail accuses, a statement not a question.

“I was just kidding around, Momma Gail,” Sophie excuses. “It’s not my fault she can’t take a joke.”

“That’s because she didn’t find it funny,” Gail says. “You can’t say mean things about people and think it’s okay. It’s very unbecoming, and you owe them an apology. You march over there right now and apologize.”

As if Sophie’s face could show any more horror, she glares over at Marlow and his date then turns her gaze back to Gail.

“No,” she says, calmly, her voice resolute. You could knock Gail over with a feather right now.

“Excuse me, young lady?” Gail says in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Momma Gail, but I’m not going to apologize. He already won. He snitched on me for hurting his girlfriend’s feelings, and now they’re staring at me waiting to see what kind of trouble I’m going to get in. So, he won. I’m in trouble, I already know it, but I’m not going to apologize.”

Sophie stands firm on that sinking boat that she’s not going to apologize. To already be convicted of the crime, she pled her case very well for a 13-year-old kid. Right now, Sophie would rather run naked down the I-5 than to go over there and apologize to Marlow and that girl. Gail looks at her stepdaughter and knows that it’s a lost cause to try to make her apologize.

“The party is over for you, young lady,” Gail says firmly. “Go to your apartment. You’re grounded for the rest of the weekend.” Shit, there goes my helper.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sophie says dutifully, and marches past Gail without looking back at me or at Marlow and his date. I roll my eyes before Gail turns around to look at me.

“What?” she says. “She was wrong. She’s going to turn out to be a bully if we don’t nip this in the bud.”

“I highly doubt that,” I say, “but don’t be too hard on her. You know, teenage angst, sibling rivalry… She was probably just giving her ‘brother’s’ date a hard time, nothing more.” I do the finger quotes around the word brother knowing damn well that it’s more than that, but she’s not a bully. She’s lashing out because she’s jealous.

“I don’t know,” Gail sighs. “I hope you’re right.” She walks over to Marlow and his date and says something to them. I turn away and head over to the food table. I can’t help but empathize with Sophie again. Even though she was clearly wrong, he told Mommy on her. There’s no better or more thorough way to drive home the fact that he looks at her as nothing more than a child than to tell Mommy that she said something wrong. There’s no way in hell Sophie was going to apologize after that. She’ll most likely gladly take the grounding and hide under her bed for the next two days.

“Trouble in the happiest place on earth?” My husband’s voice breaks me out of my thought process as I fill my plate with a few pinwheels.

“I just lost my party helper,” I say, taking another pinwheel. “Sophie was poking fun at Marlow’s date, something about twirling her hair on her fingers, and Marlow didn’t like it. Apparently, he told Gail and now Sophie’s grounded.” Christian frowns.

“He snitched on her?” he says. I raise a shocked gaze at him.

“That’s exactly what she said!” I say, surprised.

“Well, yeah, me and Mia used to do shit like that to each other all the time—me and Elliot, too—but we didn’t snitch on each other.” I smile and shake my head.

“I think it might be a different dynamic here, Christian,” I say before I realize that I’m saying too much.

“How so?” he asks, and before I get the chance to trip over my tongue, he continues. “He considers her a little sister and that’s just how she’s acting, like a bratty little sister trying to embarrass him in front of a girl. But hell, he snitched. He broke the sibling code.” I frown.

“There’s a sibling code?” I ask incredulously.

“Well, apparently not with him,” Christian says. “I know there are some siblings who’ll squeal if you left the top off the mustard, but in our family, Vegas rules applied—what happened outside of Mom and Dad’s knowledge stayed outside of Mom and Dad’s knowledge.”

Well, that’s scary. Stuff was going on right under their nose and they didn’t know it. That’s probably why Pedo-Bitch could so easily get to Christian and almost to Elliot. Everything was so hush-hush.

At this point, I don’t know who’s side I’m on.

“Yeah, well, I’d say the lines are drawn in the sand now,” I say, eating a pinwheel.

“I’d say you’re right,” my husband concurs.


CHRISTIAN

“When you are in a submissive role, your duty is to serve. However, it cannot only be your duty. It must be your desire. You cannot force this relationship–it has to be something that you want… crave or desire, even. Some soumises are born, some are cultivated. Either is fine, but this must be something that you want to do for yourself, or you’re wasting your time.”

Pussycat and I are sitting in our mentors’ den. The sessions with them and our attendance at the Munches have been highly rewarding and very informative. Pussycat has done lots of research on her own along with several assignments given to her from Savvina. She has brought several questions to our sessions, and today’s question has to do with tasks.

Tasks are generally set in a 24/7 D/s relationship, which ours is not. However, Pussycat points out that she can see how having a task or even several tasks would help her to maintain a submissive mindset. It doesn’t mean that she is releasing any of her independence. It just means that she’s acknowledging that I’m her Dominus and she, my soumise—and that in that role, she has the attitude of service, which is why Savvina is speaking on the duty of a soumise to serve.

“Service is a relative term,” Savvina continues. “It may mean that you perform direct duties required by your Dominus or it may not. It may also mean that you make yourself available for what he needs, or that you assist him with a skill or ability that he may not have. The possibilities are endless, and the two of you will set the guidelines for how you will serve him or what your specific tasks will be, if any.” Pussycat looks at me.

“Are there any specific tasks that come to mind that you think you may require of me?” she inquires. I ponder for a moment.

“None come to mind immediately,” I admit, “but I’m certain that we’ll come up with something.”

As we’re speaking, the coffee service arrives and is placed on the table in front of us. Savvina dutifully prepares two cups of coffee—one for Artemis, and then one for herself. She prepares Artemis’s cup with cream and sugar, and then her own before she sits back to enjoy the coffee. Pussycat’s and my cup remain empty.

I immediately see this as a test from our mentor if Pussycat is willing to serve—literally, although I’m not sure this is what she meant when she asked about tasks and service.

Noting that Savvina didn’t pour any coffee for us, Pussycat pauses only for a moment before retrieving the silver coffee pot and pouring a small amount into her cup. She replaces the coffee pot and takes a sip of the coffee. Then she retrieves the coffee pot again and fills my cup nearly to the brim. She adds a bit of cream and sugar before stirring it and handing me the cup and saucer, which I graciously accept. She then prepares her own cup and relaxes in her seat to enjoy her coffee.

“Why did you pour your cup first?” Savvina asks.

“I didn’t pour my ‘cup’ first. I poured a tasting in my cup,” Pussycat responds.

“And why would you do that?” Savvina asks. “Why would you pour coffee for yourself before pouring coffee for your Dominus?”

“Because I didn’t make the coffee, and it wasn’t made in my home,” she says. “How he takes his coffee is dependent on the brew, so I had to taste it to know what to put in it.” Savvina raises a brow and looks at me.

“Does she normally serve your coffee at home?” Savvina asks.

“Never,” I reply. “As of late, I’ve been leaving the house very early–before she wakes. It’s not something that I require her to do. Our staff makes sure that the coffee is prepared before either of us wakes. I sometimes leave so early that I just get coffee at the office.”

“How do you know how he takes his coffee if he’s never home or you’re not awake when he drinks it?” Savvina asks Pussycat, and she’s at a loss for words. If I didn’t know better, I would swear that she was affronted.

“If you are serving your Dominus, you should never drink or eat before he does,” Savvina says, and crosses her legs definitively. Pussycat is silent for a moment, her brow furrowed, and just as Savvina begins to speak again, she interjects.

“I disagree,” she says, crossing her legs as well. Savvina’s brow rises again.

“And why is that?” she prompts Pussycat.

“If I make my own coffee, then I want it strong and black. If he drinks my coffee, he wants it black, too. It’s been that way since the first cup of coffee he drank at my apartment more than two years ago. Coffee in restaurants or at the office are a good, robust blend, but not as strong as mine—as is the coffee made by my staff at home. In that case, he’ll take a little creamer, but not sugar. Designer coffees usually have a flavor of their own, so he won’t take anything in those either, unless he opts for a shot of espresso. If coffee is particularly weak, it’s nothing but English tea to his palette. So, he takes it with cream and sugar. So, I beg to differ with you, because if it’s coming from a strange pot, unless he’s pouring his own coffee, I don’t know what’s in the pot. So, I have to taste it before I serve him.”

Touché.

“Well,” Savvina says, “The teacher has been duly chastised.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “This is a perfect example of service being a relative term and the two of you setting your own guidelines for your definition of service. You came to me with a question about tasks and service, and you ended up educating me on one of the most important aspect of the D/s relationship—that it’s totally a la carte, and that each couple writes their own rules and guidelines for their relationship.” She turns to me. “You should be proud.”

I look at Pussycat, who’s unsuccessfully resisting the urge to smile. I reach over, take her free hand, and kiss it gently.

I am, very proud.

*-*

“I’m going to stop breastfeeding.”

I’m shocked to hear this announcement come from my wife as we’re riding into GEH on Monday morning. She lives to breastfeed our children and now she wants to stop?

“May I ask why?” I probe. She drops her gaze.

“There are so many reasons to stop,” she admits. “I’m more active outside of the home, with GEH and all, and even without GEH, I’m going to be more active with Helping Hands. We’re going to Vegas in a week and we don’t know how long we’re going to be there. I can’t go to the bathroom and pump every few hours and I don’t want to risk leaking all over my clothes. Most importantly, our children are drinking out of sippy cups and eating solid food. They just turned a year old. It’s time.” I twist my lips.

“You don’t seem too happy about it,” I tell her. She sighs. Breast-feeding was how and when she bonded most with the children. Now, she’s not going to be doing it anymore.

“We all have to be weened in one way or another,” she says with a shrug. “We might as well start doing it now before I start suffering from separation anxiety.” I take her hand and kiss it gently.

“I’ll be here for you,” I say. “And if I’m honest, I’m being a little selfish, too. Watching that nectar drip from your breast when you’re full and you come is very sexy.” That elicits a giggle from her.

“I know. I guess we’ll just have to ween you, too.”

I try not to stare at Marilyn throughout the morning, but she’s getting thinner and thinner and it’s not looking good on her. When she catches me staring at her, I ask her for a moment of her time.

“You’re going to Las Vegas with us, right?” I ask.

“That’s my understanding,” she replies.

“You know Las Vegas has some of the best cuisine in the country,” I inform her. “World-renowned chefs have restaurants there in some of the casinos and hotels. Have you possibly thought about which ones you may want to visit?” She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“I hadn’t given it any thought,” she says, her voice a bit perturbed, but I don’t allow it to sway me.

“Butterfly and I are hoping to go to Americana one night while we’re there. You’re welcome to come. I hear the food is exquisite…”

“I know what you’re doing, Christian,” she says. “You haven’t talked about any of the shows, none of the sights, not the nightlife or even the spas. You’re only talking about the food.” I purse my lips.

“I’ve known you as long as I’ve known my wife,” I say. “I’ve never seen you this thin… and you’ve gotten thinner just over the last couple of weeks. You barely touch your food at dinner if you eat anything at all and I have no idea what you’re eating throughout the day. You’re fading away in front of us…”

Marilyn hugs her iPad to her body like a shy schoolgirl as I drone on about eating and meals, and I get the feeling that I’ve lost her, so I stop talking.

“I’m not trying to preach to you,” I say, softening my voice. “That’s the very last thing I’m trying to do. I just don’t want to see you cause undue harm to yourself.”

She nods, and a single tear falls down her cheek. Shit.

“I’m sorry if I spoke out of place or if anything I said offended you,” I add.

She nods again, but doesn’t raise her head.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask.

“I just need to go to the restroom,” she says, her voice small.

“Yes, of course, by all means…”

She’s out of the office before the words are out of my mouth. My en suite would’ve given her more privacy, but I get the feeling that she wants to be as far away from me as possible. She brushes past the reception desk and nearly runs into Butterfly on her way to… the restroom.

“Mare?” Butterfly calls after her, but she continues her bolt down the hallway. Butterfly turns to me and storms into my office.

“What did you say to her?” she demands, Momma-Bear loins girded for battle. I roll my eyes and thrust my hands into my hair.

“I didn’t say anything wrong,” I say, my voice squeaky as I explain myself to Mistress. “I just informed her that Vegas has a lot of good cuisine and world-renowned chefs and that she was free to try any of them. I just thought that something may awaken her palette again and encourage her to eat.” Mistress deflates immediately.

“Oh… that,” she says, her voice somewhat small as she falls onto my sofa. “I don’t know what to do, Christian. I know this isn’t good for her. I can’t force feed her, but she’s got to stop this.”

“At the risk of sounding insensitive,” I say, sitting down next to my wife, “she’s going to have to address this before she gets on that plane. She’s going on this trip in an official capacity. She’s flying on a GEH jet, and she’s staying on a GEH dime. There’s all kinds of liability involved if something happens to her while she’s on this trip. Though it was small, she had a medical procedure two months ago and she’s not looking well at all. She needs to be medically cleared to travel, not to mention her doctor needs to see what’s become of her.”

“Don’t you think that may be a bit drastic?” she replies. I can’t even find the words to respond to that. My face must display utter horror as I scoff and gesture wordlessly to the door that Marilyn just hastily exited.

“Alright, alright,” she says, raising her hands in surrender. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her. I’ll get it done.” I lean over and kiss her.

“It’s for her own good, Butterfly,” I say. She drops her head and worries her scar.

“I know,” she says, her voice full of defeat.

Son of a bitch, where the hell is Garrett? The girl could die, and he wouldn’t even know. Would he even care? He’s a real fucking prince among men, I swear!


A/N: Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc., can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/grey-continued-misadventuresseason-v/

The new question and answer thread is always open for questions about the story. be sure to read it and please adhere to the rules when asking questions. You can find it on the left, second from last on the menu or you can click HERE.

There has been yet another development where if you feel the need to talk to fellow readers about personal issues, you need a sounding board, or you want to vent about something in your life, please feel free to visit the link on the left in the menu entitled “Do You Need To Talk.” No subject is taboo. I just ask that you approach the link with respect for those who have concerns as well as those who respond. You can also get to the link by clicking HERE

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~~love and handcuffs

60 thoughts on “Grey Continued: Season 5, Episode 6

  1. asunder73 says:

    You make things so difficult, Mistress. I am usually gleefully siding with one party over another, but your characters are so nuanced that I often find myself sympathizing with both.

  2. Antoinette White says:

    I have been following for years and this may be my first comment. Lol. But I am happy that we are finally acknowledging Ana/Christians “Prima donna-ness” at times. Now I wish we could acknowledge Sophie’s. Yes Marlow is being a little man-wh*** but her reactions and bullying of his dates is just as gross. Jason needs to know so he can do something. I think she needs to start professionally talking to someone who isn’t Ana and won’t coddle her behavior.

    • You might have missed it, but Ana was the first one to check her on her behavior. And I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but love can make you act strangely or even behave badly sometimes, even at the age of 13… or maybe that just me.

      And, hey, I don’t know, but as a human, I think I’d exhibit some prima-donna-ness in my life, too, if I had access to unlimited cash flow. In all honesty, I’m quite the “boujee” prima-donna right now, and my funds are limited… but again, that’s probably just me (shrugs).

  3. Junebride says:

    I know work comes first, wish every success for you in your new endeavor. We’ll take it as you dish it out, don’t worry. We understand.

    Loved the chapter, Goddess! This story is getting better and better as it goes along. Just wonder if Christian had words with Marlow or if he will in the near future. He was wrong to do what he did and I wouldn’t want a new “girlfriend” at my house every month practically either.

    Loved also the new relationship Ana and Christian have formed. They are growing together beautifully. Feel so bad for Mare but something has to be done before she either gets very sick and/or worse. I think Christian is going to look for Gary and have a talk with him. Christian’s and Jason’s friendship/relationship, I will call it, has come along/grown so well. So proud of all the changes he’s made in his life/thoughts while still being true to himself in the most important parts of his personality.

    Can’t wait for more info on the pedo-bitch and all the others. Just as well as what’s going on at GEH. Queen of Hearts! Love it! Christian seems to be more relaxed after her “visit” to GEH. That explanation to Savvina was out of this world, she knows her man! Found it funny that Christian would call for a divorce over a name… lol… Ana really sucked it to him with Mikey and Minnie’s “friends” when they grow older. That really made him think though. That’s why I wondered if he had talked to Marlow.

    Thank you for giving us of your time as well as your gift of writing and imagination. You are the best! I’ll state it again, magnificent chapter!
    xoxoxoxoxo

    • falalalynx says:

      Good morning Junie,
      You got my mind turning to the pedo-bitch and I’m going to stay vigilant with regards to her because she is such a player. I can see her pretending to be incapacitated when actually she is getting better. She’s a bad penny and she’s going to keep turning up until she no longer breathes air imo. grin
      How are you doing girlfriend? Are you thinking about turkey day? grin Menus keep running thru my head. grin I’ve been invited to my son’s and he plans to fry his bird. I’ve seen this work and I’ve seen it be a disaster. grin So I have something to look forward to. xoxoxo Peace, Falala

      • Fried bird is delicious when it comes out right. We smoke ours.

      • Junebride says:

        Hi, Falala, always good to hear from you. I am happy to say that my oldest daughter has taken the task of cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the past 15+ years (I’m probably short here). Best of all, she doesn’t want anyone to take anything (wine and maybe dessert are ok), she won’t let you into her kitchen either (I pull the mom card and do it whenever, though, lol). It all comes out delicious and she cooks the bird (got her into just doing the breast because no one liked anything else) low since morning and tenderloins, too. She does a true Thanksgiving dinner, not Cuban style (like her father-in-law had wanted when she started). I have to admit never had it fried, have heard about it though.

        She insists I go because I’m not in the mood for any celebrations since hubby passed. I go because I don’t want her to think I don’t want to partake with them or the rest of the family which consists of my other daughter and her husband (want them to have a good time too) and some of her husband’s close family. Thank God it’s shrunk because it used to be 25+ people sometimes.

        Hope your son’s cooking turns out perfect, let us know once you’ve tried it. We’ll be talking before that and wishing a happy one then.

        Pedo-bitch, she’s the devil in disguise, very evil. You are right, who knows what is really going on with her (except Goddess, of course). You got me thinking though because I was looking at it as her staying like that and only being able to think and not be able to do anything. That would really be f*cked up for her!! Oh, if Christian and/or Jason find out differently, you know action will be taken immediately…

        Can’t wait to know more about everyone/everything going on… Talk to you soon, take care, and stay safe.
        xoxoxoxoxo

      • seralynsmom says:

        Maybe I read it wrong but, didn’t that nurse tell Elena she was going to keep her paralyzed for a long time? That would mean giving her the drug over and over again. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t think Elena has any chance of getting better anytime soon.

      • @seralynsmom You are correct, Ash.

      • falalalynx says:

        Oh Ash I hope you are correct. But how would the nurse know? Elena is so sneaky, The good guys need a win here, a definitive blue-lipped pool of blood brain splattered on the wall end because otherwise there’s always a chance and I don’t want her to have any chance. She’s still breathing and I have a problem with that. evil grin Blood thirsty me oh no not me no no not at all. lol

      • falalalynx says:

        Goddess,
        So let me be sure I’ve got this. Pedo-bitch is being held in ‘stasis’ trapped in her own cesspool of a brain and there is no escape, correct?
        She will never trick her way out of this? I hope I hope I hope. My suspicious mind is barking up the wrong tree? If yeas;okay cool, grin

      • As far as the Goddess is concerned, she’s living out Christian’s curse for her when he spoke at her sentencing, and she’ll be living it out until the “people” funding her care have a change of heart or she simply loses her will to live…

        “I hope you rot! I hope that your evil festers in you and boils you from the inside out every day of your miserable life. I hope you live a long, long life of pain, suffering, and unhappiness. I hope your days from now on are filled with nothing but hopelessness, misery, and despair.”

      • falalalynx says:

        Goddess! This makes me so frigging happy. huge sigh of relief what a load off my mind. I LOVE Christian’s curse. My man! What a wicked curse. Ha Ha Ha Elena. Take that you wretched human.

  4. Tina says:

    As good as ever thanks for the reads. Good story lines as always cannot wait for the court case to come up as I’m looking forward to how you present it you have a very good writers mind. Thanks again for the read.

  5. naturallyblonde1221 says:

    great as always

  6. falalalynx says:

    Goddess, you delight you,

    huff puff getting my breathing under control. Excuse me I was doing my happy dance and it was exceptionally vigorous. giggle

    There is so much I liked about this chapter. The biggest thing was how amazingly normal Ana and Christian were. There different pov’s were expressed and there was no damage. Nothing was blown out of proportion, no life or death. Very cool growth factor displayed. Goddess your genius is showing. grin Our couple is growing. I’m so proud of them.

    Christian and I are a lot alike about some things. I completely agree with him about Gwen and Ros. And we are totally aligned about sibling snitching. lol Unless it’s life threatening you don’t say anything. grin I can see where Ana might not know this. She is an only child, well until Harry came along. Not to say I think Sophie is right in what she’s said and done but in the scheme of things it’s normal and very minor. She has some growing to do too. And Marlow needs to get a clue. Yes he’s a teenage boy but he should be able to recognize what’s happening. Does he no longer consider Sophie his friend. A couple of his ‘dates’ were very unkind to her. Personally I’m not surprised she always locked and loaded when he walks in with another unknown date.

    Ana’s decision to stop breastfeeding the twins is heartbreaking and understandable. But from one mother to another I feel her sadness. Lots of life goes on moments here.

    Christians concern for Marilyn just made me admire him all the more. He’s such a big softie. grin Don’t worry Christian I won’t tell anyone. Ana and the family already know. grin

    I’m not sure these munch meetings are really necessary. Unless there’s something I’m not getting. Ana’s been doing her research and she sooooo knows Christian. They make there relationship what they want it to be and there’s no right or wrong, so yeah I’m not seeing it.

    Thank you Goddess for taking the time and getting this out to us. Don’t strain your brain. And take frequent breaks. And always remember, bananas. lol

    xoxoxoxoxoxoxo Peace, Falala

    • Believe it or not, the mentor meetings are more for Ana to know herself as a submissive/sourmise, not to know Christian. The original issue was/is that she would often take more than she should have, not safeword, and ignore her limits because she didn’t understand her role and most likely had not identified what she wanted out of the D/s relationship. So, these munches and meetings are for each of them to “learn” themselves and identify what they themselves want out of the D/s relationship and how to achieve it.

      • Junebride says:

        Love the research and heart you give the story, Goddess. We’ve learned a lot through you and your writing. Never get tired of reading this story, always look for more. While reading, I get transported to a different plane and forget everything. Thanks, love you.
        xoxoxoxoxox

      • I’ve learned a lot myself looking into the dynamics of the BDSM relationship. In several ways, it’s not unlike any other relationship in the aspects that there must be a mutual level of respect and trust and that each party is looking to gain something from the connection, but very unlike traditional relationships in that the nuances and singular taste and practices can be very unconventional.

  7. Connie gould says:

    Wonderful chapter.

  8. LisaKabb says:

    Take all the time you need Goddess. Your ever faithful will be here. My my what stories you weave. I wondered if Momma Gail would ever be involved. Marlow is a shit for bringing a new girl every time. I hoe x Christian does talk to him Until next time.

  9. I forgot to update the Pinterest board, but it’s up to date now with the cute Mickey/Minnie decor.

  10. S. Hodgson says:

    Honestly I was laughing the entire first part of the chapter, especially during that silly banter between Christian and Ana. Too funny!!!

    I honestly wonder if it possible for Mare and Gary to fix this. Mare seriously needs to try to eat or try to find a another reason to live. Maybe that’ll make her want to eat.

    • Emotions are a tricky thing. Your mental state controls how your physical will respond. I’m an emotional eater and I won’t even admit how much weight I’ve gained this year from the horrible emotional strains of 2019. I’m also an emotional sleeper as sleep is my defense mechanism from back in the days when I used to be suicidal.

      Other people are exactly the opposite — my daughter didn’t eat when she and her boyfriend broke up. A lot of other things were all happening to her at the same time and she lost a lot of weight — not enough to affect her health, but enough to be noticeable. Other people have other physical reactions — they withdraw, become angry and lash out, do drugs or alcohol, suicide, become promiscuous if it was a failed relationship or swear off men or women, you get idea.
      Sometimes you can find something else that can give you purpose; other times you just have to ride it out. We’ll have to wait it out to see with Mare. It’s hard to ascertain when (and if) her healing process actually began since she was in purgatory with her parents for the first few weeks of her “mourning.”

      • magy says:

        Totalmente de acuerdo, la depresión es tan mala para el cuerpo como al alma, salir de ella es muy difícil no imposible pero, como una persona que la tuvo por un engaño de desamor ante el altar, no se sabe realmente que es lo que te ayudará!
        Tiempo y esperemos que lo logre sin dañarse!
        Saludos!

      • @magy ¡IKR! Es muy triste verlo y casi IMPOSIBLE soportarlo, ¡pero tienes toda la razón! Lamento tu experiencia. 😥

  11. Debbie says:

    I’m late to the party, re: your promotion. Congrats, BG!!!!!
    Hoping all is well with you & yours.
    As always, fantastic chapter.I
    Thanks you for your genius.

  12. Sue says:

    Christian is awesome. The man has so many layers that every time he manages to surprise me with how he explains his feelings and views of situations happening around him. I totally agree with how he sees the Ros/Gwen situation. What Ros did to Gwen may not have been purposely to hurt her but it is mean because she knew what she was doing and there is no way an inteligent woman like her thought this was going to turn out ok while still having the other woman in her life when she was married.

    What I do not agree with is that Christian seems to think that Marilyns well being is dependant on Gary being with her or not. Mare made a choice and if she believed it was the best one for her she should be sad about her relationship with her bf ending but not trying to kill herself like this over it? There has to be more than that going on. I mean she loves him yes but she too knew what the decision of aborting the baby could cost her. Is she feeling guilty or is she feeling sorry for terminating the pregnancy? Or is this all only about losing Gary and the tough decision she had to make? Either way I really hope she accepts the help Ana and Christian are insisting she gets.

    Ohhh a quiet Elena is like music to my ears. I was tired of that bitch causing trouble even behind bars. So I really dig the silent suffering thing she’s got going on.

    Great chapter.

  13. Me says:

    Great as always. I actually laughed out loud at Christian’s line Santa Claus shit all over the house now we have Mickey and Minnie Mouse droppings. Too funny!!

  14. bichonmomma says:

    Another wonderful chapter. Your Ana and Christian have grown so much throughout this story. Their bond is something we all envy. Two complex individuals who are so perfectly suited for each other. I loved the birthday party though sorry to see Sophie get into trouble. Yes she is jealous but she still should not have acted the way she did. And Momma Gail setting to her. Sophie truly is a little grown up inside a teenagers body. You write such wonderful characters. I wonder if Christian is going to approach Gary himself to let him know about Mare.

  15. Dee says:

    I’m scared, Elena was moved to a minimum security prison? What if the crazy aunt comes back and bribes someone to break her out! The horror at just the thought of it.

    Marlow is bringing a new girl to every event? Is he trying to impress the ladies by association with the Greys? Glad Ana asked Christian to talk to him. Her mentioning the double standards with their own kids as examples was spot on.

    Poor Gary, I hope Christian doesn’t get in his face about Mare. The guy came to the realization that he didn’t have what he thought he had, and that was Mare’s unconditional love. They both lost a child and should grieve or whatever as they see fit.

    You put out another great one. Thanks

  16. seralynsmom says:

    Christian can’t blame Gary on what Mare is doing to herself. I’m sorry, but that’s not on him. I also think Ana needs to step back from her. She’s allowed her to continue to go without pushing because she doesn’t want to hurt her but she needs to be her boss, not her friend. She’s going to kill herself. At the very least, right now at the rate she’s going she can and likely will cause permanent damage to her body. How many anorexic or bulimic people have caused permanent damage to their bodies? It isn’t healthy, and walking on eggshells isn’t going to do her any good. As her boss, Ana has the right to tell her to get herself checked out by a physician and ensure she’s at least healthy that way. Because Christian is right, anything happens while she’s with them and they’re liable. Something tells me she was running to the bathroom to puke. But what would she even throw up?

    Way to go Ana!!! I love that even the teachers can learn something new at times. Lol. I’m also glad she’s put Sophie in her place at least a little, though she’s right. Marlow needs to be talked to. I feel it’s disrespectful to continually bring a new girl into someone else’s home. They’re already in the public eye, what happens when one of those girls decides she wants fifteen minutes of fame and takes pics of the event, or tattles on Sophie in a way that makes the Greys look bad? They’re both in the wrong in different ways and it’s very telling How old they are in the way they’re acting. I get sowing his oats, keep it out of other people’s homes. And I get Sophie has a crush, but she can’t keep doing what she’s doing. Hopefully Ana and Gail got through to her, hopefully Christian will get through to Marlow.

    Ana’s reaction to Elena was awesome. Can’t say I blame her. Good riddance to bad trash.

    Christian is right to step away from Ros’ private life, he wouldn’t be able to remain objective and it could cause disruption in the work place. She made her mess, she’s going to have to get herself out of it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

    I think I’ve addressed all I wanted to. Lol. Yay for first birthdays!!!!

    • seralynsmom says:

      And I know just how emotions can be. I can go weeks and weeks and weeks without any reaction to anything and then BAM! Panic attack over the stupidest of things. Some days I have to make myself get up, weekdays it isn’t too hard because I have to wake my daughter up, get her to school, etc. but weekends? I can go an entire Saturday sleeping. Depression sucks ass. It was worse when I was a teen. Suicidal ideation. Attempted suicide. Cutting. I skipped a shit ton of school thanks to bullying.

      I get she’s hurting, I get that she could actually be trying to move towards healing, but at this moment…the fact she’s lost more weight when she should start to gain it is not good at all. I fear she’ll waste away.

      • falalalynx says:

        {{{{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}}}}} {{{{{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}}}}} and more {{{{{{HUGS}}}}}}
        You mean so much to me. Did you know how honored I was when you started to speak to me? Here was this amazing woman, mother, and writer and you took the time for me, me. You are a force an amazing force and you need to remember this. You need a hug? I’ve got I boatload of hugs for you. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. And I’ll even supply the box of tissues. You are needed and loved and wanted. Never forget this please. I wish you all the best. Love you kiddo, Peace, Falala

      • seralynsmom says:

        I was in a dark place for a really long time, but it’s not so dark anymore. When I was a teen, the Internet was just becoming a thing so I didn’t have the ability to interact with people in any other way than in person and when the people you’re trying to befriend decide that making fun of you is what they’d rather do instead…well, it gets lonely. I’m glad now that there is an Internet. It allows me to interact with people like you and Lynn and many other amazing people that can never judge me by the way I look. It’s been an amazing help in moving me forward and reminding me that no matter how dark the skies may get, there’s always a bit of clear blue sky in there. I’ve made more friends online than I ever did in person but that’s ok. Thanks for being my friend.

      • I would be the last person in the world to judge you by the way you look anyway, Ash. Old, roly poly, gray-haired black lady over here doing the best that I can. No time or desire to throw stones at anybody. Besides, I love you too much, ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

      • seralynsmom says:

        Love you too. 🥰🥰

      • falalalynx says:

        Roly poly, I like roly poly. It’s fun to say and I’ll bet hugging you would be awesome cozy. giggle xoxoxoxo

    • falalalynx says:

      Hey Ash,
      No Christian shouldn’t ‘go after’ Gary. If he does go to see him who’s to say he won’t open the door to a male version of Marilyn. Both are devastated. Both are in real pain. Christian can offer to help but he needs to respect Gary’s emotions. Personally I think someone else in the Scoobie gang should go to Gary. Christian will be the wrong person. Why hasn’t Maxie stepped up her concern? Or Allen or Val? This shouldn’t all fall to Ana and Christian.

      • seralynsmom says:

        The others don’t know what happened. They think this is just a break up, they have no idea what Mare did and why Gary has cut himself off and Al did attempt contact, remember? So I can understand why they haven’t stepped up yet. They’re thinking that he just needs some time to deal with the break up and some space. I think if they knew the real reason behind it all their concern for both parties would ramp up and they’d storm the castle so to speak. But I also don’t think anyone knows where Gary actually is, not even Ana and Christian. At least that was my impression. Hard to storm somewhere if you don’t know where someone is and even though the Grey couple have the means to find him, I think Ana would balk at going that far when it concerns one of her friends, otherwise she would have done it with Mare when Mare went MIA there for a bit. Finding someone’s location without their permission is a super violation of their privacy and it’s quite different when it’s someone you know and love that isn’t in immediate danger as far as you know. Gary has made contact and said he’s fine, she has to take that at face value. But I think if this continues too much longer someone needs to step in. But we have to remember, this hasn’t been going on that long. It’s been what? A month? Two? That’s not nearly long enough to move on from something like that. Hell, I have a friend who suffered several miscarriages years ago and she still has days where something triggers the pain of that loss. I can’t imagine the pain they’re both feeling just a few months into it.

        And despite the fact Marilyn CHOSE the pain, doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Doesn’t mean she still doesn’t feel the loss as if the baby was ripped from her against her will. Every woman handles abortion differently. Some plow on and refuse to feel that loss, others go through that mourning period. Mare is also feeling not just the loss of a potential future, but two potential futures. A possible eventual marriage and a future child. So she has to move through the pain of both now. Same as Gary really. And both are also facing the pain of what they feel as a betrayal of the person they love. Mare, because Gary didn’t support her and left her to deal alone. Gary, because he feels like she killed their baby. He can’t see it any differently at the moment.

        But yeah, if it keeps going too much longer someone will step up, even if it’s a Ana and Christian, and try to contact him again. Even physically. At least I think they will. 🤷🏻‍♀️

      • @Falala Allen has already gone to Gary. Remember Christmas?

    • That’s the exact point Christian was making to Ana, that she needs to be proactive in helping Mare get back on her healthy feet, even though his opinions may be a bit one-sided about Gary.

      Nothing to add on Sophie and Marlow and Ros. You’ve pretty much hit that nail on the head.

      • falalalynx says:

        petulant Falala kicking her feet in the dirt, Yeah well maybe Allen called him once but the Scoobie gang isn’t doing enough. imo Once is not enough. Marilyn is at this party they can see for themselves how bad off she is. grrr I hate how real time and story time mess up the urgency I feel about things some times. And I get so annoyed with myself when I forget stuff. I have enough holes in my memory. sigh Falala go have some ice cream. My treat. Yeah okay but this isn’t going to help Gary or Marilyn. Can I have chocolate AND vanilla?

      • If you remember, Ana did activate the contingency when she didn’t hear from Gary and it was Al who contacted him and found out that he was alive… not necessarily alive and well, but alive… more like alive and brooding.

  17. Better2BeLoved says:

    I feel bad for Sophie but I want to shake some sense into her at the same time. I know she’s only 13 and she’s missing that maturity but she’s just embarrassing herself in front of Marlow and his harem. Maybe, he needs to tell her that he only sees her as a little sister to cut off any sense of hope Sophie may have. It’s gonna be hard for her but hey, the first cut is the deepest, right?

    Poor Marilyn, she’s probably very depressed, she’s unintentionally engaging in self harm by not eating and depriving her body of nutrition. At least with Ana and Christian there she knows she’s not alone.

    Thanks again BG for posting another chapter, I wish you the best and more at work! I’m sorry I haven’t been commenting as often but I’m still here! xoxoxo

    • Sophie is very well aware that Marlow only sees her as a little sister. However, it doesn’t change the way she feels about him and that’s why she’s behaving badly. It’s hard to watch, but c’est la vie… 😥

  18. Damoranclan says:

    I love you BG ❤️! Thanks for continuing Ana and Christian’s story. Your writing is fabulous! I feel like I am sitting on the front row watching their life as you tell it. Keep up the fantastic work!

  19. falalalynx says:

    Good morning Goddess,
    How are you dollface? How’s the continuing education going? Do you feel smarter now? grin
    I have to admit that there is this huge hole in my week when I don’t get to talk to you and everyone. You are greatly missed by me. I just wanted to tell you you are on my mind and to re-enforce my positive hope that things are going well for you. XOXOXOXOXO Peace, Falala

    • Training’s done, but I was supposed to go into my first day of mentoring today, but I’m not feeling well. Wish me luck for tomorrow!

      • falalalynx says:

        My Goddess,
        Have you gotten your flu shot? Did you strain your brain? grin I suggest a nap and a cuddle with nurse Meeko and NOT think about work until you feel better. Remember your OJ and bananas. grin Feel better soon. I knew I needed to check in on you for some reason. Don’t you know goddess’es aren’t suppose to feel bad? You are going to float through this mentoring. I believe it. XOXOXOXOXO Peace, Falala

  20. Misty says:

    Impatiently waiting for another post…..

  21. falalalynx says:

    Goddess,
    Feel better soon. Take care of my treasure for me. XOXOXOXOXO
    Peace, Falala

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