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Thursday, June 28, 2012

Chapter 4 - Other things

Apologies for the delay.  Please Enjoy.

It won't be that long for Chapter 5.

 

As always - I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey or any of the characters. 

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Chapter 3 – Field Trips

The morning after a holiday weekend is always a rude awakening.  Christian marches into Teddy’s room during the morning feeding to kiss us goodbye and is off to work.  “Young man, take care of your mother today.  And remember, those are mine.”  He winks at me, kisses the top of Teddy’s head, then gives me a full on kiss that could easily turn into more.  “I’ll miss you today, Mrs. Grey.”
“And I you, Mr. Grey.” 
Teddy and I spend the morning sorting my closet into the short row of wearable items.  I feel wasteful, but I’m going to need to buy a few things to tide me over until I’m back to myself.  Oh well.
After two weeks I am starting to feel a bit of cabin fever, even in this cavernous house.  Teddy and I head to the kitchen.  “Mrs. Jones, er, Taylor, could you pack me a sandwich, some fruit, and a water bottle for lunch.  To go.”  Mrs. Taylor.  I’m still getting used to that.  Three months ago Jason and Gail approached us after dinner. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Grey, Mrs. Jones and I were wondering if it would be possible for us to schedule some vacation time together.”  Gail looked nervous, but Taylor had his usual stoic expression. 
Christian responded, “I see.  And when were you looking for leave?”
Gail chimed in “We were figuring it would be best to go before the baby arrives, so the sooner the better.  We wouldn’t want you to be short staffed right after becoming parents.”
Christian replied impassively “That is thoughtful of you, Mrs. Jones.  How much time will you require?” 
This time, Taylor piped up, “At least a week, sir.  Two might be better.”
“Two weeks, I see.  A bit avaricious, wouldn’t you say?”  Geez, Fifty.  Neither of them has taken a day off in forever.
Gail and Taylor glanced at each other, then Taylor spoke.  “This is for an exceptional event, sir.  We’ll be taking a honeymoon.”  They’re getting married!  I couldn’t help but have a silly grin, but Christian’s expression is all business.
“I see.  Can you have your plans together in one week?”
“Yes sir,” Taylor answered.
“Very well then, two weeks leave for both of you starting in one week.  Taylor, see to it Sawyer is prepared and get an additional security person to cover.  Also contact the service and arrange for a live out housekeeper to backfill for Mrs. Jones.”
“Yes sir.  Thank you, sir.” 
“Oh, Jason and Gail…Best wishes to you both.  I hope you will be as happy as Mrs. Grey and I.”  I quickly added my congratulations and the two of them headed back to their quarters.  Then I looked at Christian and giggled.
“Now why are you giggling, Mrs. Grey.  It was really only a matter of time.”  But I noticed he was smiling, too.   
In the end, Christian paid for their honeymoon, first class all the way.  He probably gave them a sizable cash gift, too, if I know him. 
I gather a picnic blanket, the diaper bag, and get Teddy strapped into the stroller.  I’ll check out the Bugaboo one today.  I pick up my lunch from where Mrs. Taylor has left it on the counter.  I’m one step out the front door when Sawyer intercepts me. 
“Mrs. Grey, I am to accompany you when you go out.”  Sawyer tries to keep his tone neutral, but he is obviously apprehensive.  Possibly concerned that I will argue over this?
“Very well, Sawyer.” I reply.
“I’ll just bring the car around, Mrs. Grey.”
“That won’t be necessary, Sawyer.”  I smile at his confusion.  “Could you carry the blanket, please?”
He takes the blanket with a nod, uncertain what to do next.  I just start off down the drive with the stroller, and he follows.  After about 10 minutes, the meadow is on my left and I veer off into the grass.  I find a nice spot in the sun.  “This will do, don’t you think?”
“I guess so ma’am.”   I take the blanket from him and lay it out, spread out my lunch, and lay Teddy in the blanket.  Perfect.  I can see Sawyer now understands the plan and he stations himself about 15 yards away watching the drive.  I watch Teddy gazing at the sky and cooing as I eat.  When I’m done, it’s Teddy’s turn. 
“Sawyer, I’m going to be feeding the baby.”  What is the appropriate way to tell your security man that you are about to whip out a breast?  I’m not sure if this is covered in an etiquette book anywhere.  Sawyer nods at me and moves a greater distance away.  I note he is doing his level best not to look directly at us.  I can’t help but smirk.  I know it is his job, and neither he nor I have a choice if we want to maintain peace, but really, what security risk is there in my own, albeit vast, front yard. 
Teddy is just finishing up when my Blackberry starts with ‘My Love is King’.  “Greetings!  You’ve reached Mr. Grey’s love slave and the mother of his child.  How may I help you?”
“Where are you?” He annunciates each word carefully, his voice is a mix of anger and anxiety.  What have I done now?  I haven’t gone anywhere, for goodness sake.
“What do you mean ‘where are you’?”  I try not to sound like his tone rattles me.  Even after a year, Christian’s angry voice can make me stop breathing.
“I meant where are you!  I called the house and Mrs. Taylor said you were not there.  So.  Where.  Are.  You!”
Ugh, Fifty!  “Christian, your son and I are having a picnic in the meadow.  We are about 100 yards from the house.  I can see it quite clearly.  So, while Mrs. Taylor was accurate and we are not, in fact, at the house, I think it is still fair to say we are home.  I have not gone anywhere!  And, if you must know, Sawyer is only a few yards away from us. So I would ask you to kindly adjust your tone and attitude!”  I end up shouting.
“You’re…you’re home?”  Christian is astonished.  
“Yes, for God’s sake”.  Argh.
There is silence for a moment and I sense it coming.  “And how are my love slave and child doing this afternoon?”  There it is, the mood swing.  Really, Christian’s volatility could easily rival a postpartum hormonal woman. 
“We are having a splendid time, though I think we shall return to the house shortly for a nap.” 
“Sounds delightful.  Wish I was there, Mrs. Grey.”
“Me too, Christian.  But I am certain there are others who would benefit today from your browbeating.  We’ll see you at dinner.”
“Very well, I’ll go browbeat the staff here.  Tell my son I love him and his mother.”
“Bye, Christian.”
“Bye, Anastasia.”
“Hang up, Christian.”
“If you insist.”  He sighs and hangs up.  All of a sudden, my plans for tomorrow pop into my head.  After a quick thought, I lie down with my head and Teddy’s head together and take a quick picture with my phone to send to Christian with a message. 
To: Christian Grey
From:  Anastasia Grey
Date: May 28, 2012  1:14 pm
Subject: Teddy’s schedule
Daddy,
I wanted to inform you that Mommy and I will be going shopping tomorrow.  She says this is non-negotiable as she has an appointment at Neimans to get a dress for the benefit on Saturday.  She also says it is good for her sanity to leave the ‘compound’ every once in a while.  She will agree to allow Sawyer or other security staff escort us if you promise not to give her a hard time.  You want her to look pretty on Saturday, don’t you?
Theodore Raymond Grey
President-in-Training, Grey Enterprise Holdings
I press send, put Teddy back into the stroller, and fold up the blanket.  Sawyer scurries over to help when he sees me preparing to leave.  My Blackberry buzzes.
To: Anastasia Grey
From: Christian Grey
Date: May 28, 2012 1:19 pm
Subject: Unauthorized field trips
Teddy,
Though I could arrange for Neimans to come to you, I dare not act for fear of tipping the delicate balance of Mommy’s sanity.  I will make appropriate security arrangements.  And for the record, Mommy always looks pretty.
Christian Grey
Still (last I checked) CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings and the young master better get his eyes off my chair!
I chuckle and head back to the house.  I need more than a dress to attend the annual Coping Together benefit.  I need to figure the bizarre pumping contraption so I can detach myself from Teddy for a few hours.  And I need to figure this out while Christian is not home – I can just imagine how he would respond to this device!  Actually…nope, can’t think about that now.
Later that evening, after Teddy is down, Christian and I are getting ready for bed.
“Ana, I have made arrangements for your security detail for tomorrow.”  He is using his matter of fact, don’t think about arguing tone.
“Isn’t Sawyer going with us?”
“Yes, Sawyer will accompany you with Ryan and a new security person who is starting tomorrow.”
“Three!  Christian, isn’t that excessive?”
“No, it isn’t.”  He sighs and for once decides to explain his thinking.  “First of all, you and Teddy are two people, you require a security person for each of you.”  I am about to interrupt, but he holds up a hand so I let him continue.  “Let’s say someone tries to snatch Teddy.  A single person would have to choose between you and Teddy.  Therefore you each require someone dedicated.” 
Oh.  I never thought of it that way, but still. “Christian, do you really think someone would try to take Teddy?”
He sighs.  “Ana, don’t be naïve.  Teddy is the child of very wealthy parents.  What would you be willing to pay in ransom?”  I instantly know the answer.  Everything.
My eyes are wide and I nod to show my understanding, “But, why do we need a third person?”
“Well.  I, um, had a discussion with Sawyer and he recommended having a female on staff who is comfortable being close to you when you are, how shall we say…exposed.” 
I flop on the bed giggling.  “Poor Sawyer!  Was he really that uncomfortable?”
“I think he was more concerned with how I would react.  He repeatedly assured me that he kept his eyes several feet from you at all times.  But he also realized that outside the residence, he cannot effectively do his job that way.”
A thought occurs to me.  “Why don’t we try to get Prescott back?”  I have felt guilty for months over this.  It was my fault Christian fired her.  This could go a long way to easing my conscience.
“Ana, once you fire someone you cannot hire them back.  It doesn’t work.” 
“Why not?”  I’m wondering if this is some business school rule of which I am unaware, or just a Christian Grey thing.
“Because they will never be loyal.  The person is painfully aware they might be terminated at any time.  They tip toe around decisions, fearing it, and they never give their all.  I know you feel badly for Prescott, but I’m sure she has moved on.”
As I drift off to sleep, I think about how Christian is able to terminate relationships, albeit with employees, so readily and with such finality.  He did it with his subs, too.  This brings my worst fear to the forefront – the idea of Christian leaving me.  I’ve spoken to Flynn about it.  It took about six months, but Flynn finally swayed me to come in again, first with Christian then on my own.  I have to admit it has been enlightening, once I got over my apprehensions.
Christian calls me into the living room the next morning.  Living room may be an understatement.  It is a vast open space with a wall of windows overlooking the sound.  There are three conversation areas with seating arrangements, and a grand piano at the far end.  The furniture is what the decorator called ‘classic contemporary’, with sleek lines and solid colors.  It took a lot of discussion, but I finally convinced Christian to abandon the all white room concept. 
Christian had been reading the paper on his iPad facing the windows.  He stands as I approach him and gestures for someone else to come forward.   “Ana, this is Harrison.  Harrison, my wife, Mrs. Anastasia Grey.”  Christian introduces the newest member of Team Grey security.  We nod at each other and Christian continues.  “Harrison has been briefed on our security routines and her role in attending to you and Teddy.”  Harrison is tall, about 5’ 9”, wearing a dark suit and white blouse, similar to the other security staff.  She has blonde hair cut in a bob just below her ears with bangs.  I wonder if Christian asked for a blonde, then I realize Taylor probably wouldn’t need to be told. 
I smile at Harrison “Ms. Harrison, do you have a first name?”  It took me months to figure out Taylor, Sawyer, and Ryan’s first names.  Then I realized I just should have asked. 
“Yes, ma’am.  Heather.”  She didn’t really look like a Heather.
“How do you prefer to be addressed, Heather? Ms. Harrison?”  I always followed Christian’s lead on using last names only, but as I get more accustomed having staff I want to be my own person in this.
“Just Harrison is fine, ma’am.  Or Harry.”  I look at her quizzically.  “Harry was my nickname in the marines.  It suits me.”
“Harry it is, then.  You were a marine?”  I was trying to get to know her, but she took this as a sign to give me the bullets of her resume.
“Yes, ma’am.  Eight years in the marines.  Two tours of Iraq.  I am currently on a break from law school.  I have free-lanced in private security since I was discharged 3 years ago.  I am also the oldest of seven children in my family, and my three younger cousins lived next door.  Mr. Taylor felt my experience with young children was a plus.” I am impressed.
“Why did you leave law school?”  As soon as it is out of my mouth, I realize this is probably none of my business.
“Ma’am, if I work for you and Mr. Grey for a year, I will be able to finish law school debt free.”  Ah.
Christian jumps in “If you have no further questions, Mrs. Grey...” he looks at me to be sure I’m finished and I shake my head to indicate I am done, “Harry, Mrs. Grey will be leaving around 10.”  Harry nods, turns, and walks purposefully out of the room.  “I’m off to work, Mrs. Grey.  I’ll see you at dinner.  Have fun shopping.” 
A few hours later, I am buckling Teddy into his car seat preparing to leave.  Harry is standing beside me as I do a mental checklist.  Diaper bag, diapers, wipes, burp clothes, backup outfit…so much equipment for such a small guy.  I realized what I forgot, “Harry, could you get the stroller and put it in the back of the car?” 
“Which one, ma’am?” 
“The one that works with the car seat, please.”  Harry obliges.  I walk out the front door expecting to see the black SUV…
Sawyer has pulled around in a shiny new white Audi A7.  Where did this come from?  “Sawyer, please don’t think I’m clueless.  But when did we get this?”  I am perplexed. 
Sawyer responds “Mrs. Grey, it was delivered last night, but I think it was ordered a few weeks back.  Mr. Grey had the car seat base professionally installed.  It’s all ready to go.”  I shake my head as Sawyer takes Teddy in the car seat from me and snaps it into the base, giving it a shake to check it is properly latched.  I climb in, Sawyer and Ryan sit up front, and Harry rides in the third row.  It’s official.  I have an entourage. 
To: Christian Grey
From:  Anastasia Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  10:03 am
Subject: New ride
Christian,
Teddy and I are safely ensconced in our new ride.  Though it is lovely, do we really need a fifth car?  It seems a tad improvident. 
And when did we decide we needed a new car?
xo Ana (and Teddy)
Teddy is starting to fuss a bit.  “Ma’am” Sawyer pipes up.  “Um, Mr. Grey supplied a music selection for the car.  There are some lullabies.  Should I play one?”  Christian thinks of everything.
“Yes, please.”  We continue towards Neimans with Mozart playing.  My phone buzzes and I see Christian’s response.
To: Anastasia Grey
From:  Christian Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  10:12 am
Subject: Ungrateful passengers
Ana,
Yes, we do need another SUV.  There are times when I need to take the black one.  Would you put Teddy in the back of your Saab or R8 – both convertibles?  Stop frowning and be reasonable.
Enjoy shopping.
Christian Grey
CEO and car fleet owner, Grey Enterprise Holdings 
Good point, Mr. Grey.  I don’t think even I would be comfortable with Teddy in a convertible.
Carolyn Acton is well prepared for our arrival.  She knows my tolerance for trying on clothes is limited under ordinary circumstances and has correctly deduced it will be even more so with an infant in tow.  She has selected three gowns for me to choose from, and has matching wraps, shoes, purses, and undergarments for each.  She has also has a selection of casual outfits for my ‘interim’ size. 
“Mrs. Grey, to be truthful, though I have three dresses here, I am fairly certain which you should wear.  Do you want to try all three, or go right for what I think is the winner?”  I give her a look as if she needed to ask.
“Good.”  She takes down the middle dress.  It is floor length silver with a boat neckline.  The top looks slightly loose and blousy, and the bottom is narrow and straight to the floor with a rather high slit.  “Mrs. Grey, this dress is loosely fitted on top so it can account for the size of your chest changing during the course of the evening and does not require your stomach to be flat.  The slit will emphasize your fabulous legs.  And the piece-de-resistance…” She spins the dress around – it is backless!  “Yes, it has a little bit of sexy.  Let’s get you into this.”
I start to protest “Ms. Acton, I cannot possible wear that.  I, er, I need to wear a bra right now.” 
“Mrs. Grey, there is a bra built in.  And if you like it, we’ll have pockets sewn in for those breast feeding pads.”  She seems to know what she is talking about.  I acquiesce, undress, and allow Carolyn and her staff member to slip me into the dress.
She was right.  The top is comfortable, the built in bra is supportive, and the slit!  I cannot wait for Christian to see the slit.  The edge of the top runs down my sides.  I turn to see the back.  It is just barely covering my behind.  “Ms. Acton, this is beautiful, but how am I to keep the sides down and keep it from slipping to far down in the back.  I don’t want to expose myself while I am dancing.”
“Mrs. Grey, you will be taped in.”
“Taped…how?  By whom?”
Before I know what is happening, I have booked Adele, Ms. Acton’s assistant, as my dressing assistant for Saturday evening.  I muse, what have I become that I cannot even put on a dress myself? While I’m at it, maybe I should have Franco come to do my hair.  I was thrilled when Franco contacted me over the winter to announce he was opening his own salon.  Though he didn’t say it, he was, of course, seeking the public patronage of Mrs. Christian Grey.  I did one better and dragged Grace, Mia, and Kate with me to the opening.  Christian’s name may have clout, but Grace and Mia have oodles of friends.  In return, Franco has no problem coming to the house on the infrequent occasions I need him, and I think I’ll need him. 
I give Franco a quick call and make the arrangements while my purchases are rung up.  In addition to the dress, I’ve bought some casual summer skirts, a pair of jeans, and two pairs of capris.  That should tide me over until Claude gets his hands on me. I also bought a black lacy negligee that I am 26 days away from using.  I mull over making Christian and I a countdown calendar. 
Ryan takes my purchases to the car as Carolyn Acton directs me to Neimans renowned nursing room.  I lurked a bit on some new mommy bulletin boards online and found one listing the best places to nurse in Seattle.  Neimans is at the top of the list.  
The room is just off the ladies room.  It has two changing tables, a dispenser for changing table covers, a sofa, a loveseat, and a glider.  Harry followed me in, made a quick sweep of the restroom area and the nursing area.  “Mrs. Grey, I will be just outside the door.  Call if you need anything.” 
“Thanks, Harry.”  There is no one else in the room at the moment.  I get Teddy’s diaper changed and look around.  I pick the loveseat, get comfortable, and get Teddy positioned.  He latches immediately and I smile.  I am getting good at this!  I relax a bit and think about how nice it is to be out.  I need to make sure I do this more frequently and that I take advantage of my time off.  The twelve weeks will go quickly.  I’ve almost shut down Christian’s entreaties about not returning to work.  I know if I don’t work I will get claustrophobic.  Plus I miss it.  I miss the interaction.  I miss the books.  Two good, no, great ideas pop into my head.  I adjust Teddy, grab my phone, and call Kate. 
“Hey, Mommy, how is it going?” Kate answers.
“It’s going well, but Teddy was wondering if Aunt Kate wants to have lunch with us sometime.  We could meet you near your office?  Teddy has never been to a restaurant before and…”
“I’d love to!” Kate squeals.  “But it’ll have to be next week.  How about Wednesday?  I know just the place near my work.”
“Sounds great.  Email me the details.  And I have another favor, which cannot be discussed in any emails.”  I outline my plan for Kate and as soon as we hang up the lunch invitation appears on my calendar with the restaurant location and a link to a review.  Perfect.
A woman about my age pushes a stroller with a crying infant into the nursing area.  I can tell she is frazzled as she talks to the baby, and herself as she tries to get things together.  I sympathize.  She has the baby on the changing table, holding him or her (I cannot tell from the pale green outfit) with one hand while fishing in her diaper bag with the other.  “Oh crap!” she exclaims and quickly covers her mouth with her hand.  “I’m so sorry, it just slipped out.” She takes a deep breath.  “Do you have a spare diaper, I think I’m out?”
My diaper bag is right by my foot.  I gingerly lean over, reach in and grab a diaper.  “Is size one okay?”  She nods.  Since she is stuck at the changing table, and I am stuck in my spot, I toss her the diaper.  “Nice catch.”
She smiles. “Thanks.  And I probably couldn’t repeat that catch with 10 tries.”  After diapering and redressing her baby, she settles into the glider to nurse.  “Thanks again.  I can just imagine the conversation with my husband that I forgot to restock the diaper bag.”  She rolls her eyes and I laugh.
“I understand completely.  I can actually hear what my husband would say ‘how could you forget?  What were you thinking?’”  We start laughing as we imitate our husbands.  Part of me feels a little uneasy, mocking Christian.  But it also feels good to let it out. 
“It makes me feel so much better to know I’m not the only one with a husband like that!” she says.
“Well, I have to admit, the reason I can hear what my husband would say is because I have heard it - the last time I forgot something really, really important…the outcome of which is sitting on my lap!”  Did I just admit that?
“Oh, no!” She bursts out laughing.
“Oh yes!” I retort.
“Well, at least my husband can’t blame me for that.  Broken condom for us” she blurts out while chuckling.
“Oh, no!” My turn to laugh.
“Oh yes!” she replies.  It takes a few minutes for our giggles to subside.
Twenty minutes of conversation later I learn she is an attorney, or just about one.  She got pregnant during her last year of law school.  She has a job lined up, and they deferred her start for three months for the obvious reasons.  Her son, it’s a boy, is two weeks older than Teddy.  I tell her I’m an editor.  We both plan on returning to work. 
As we get ready to leave the nursing room, I finally introduce myself.  “Hi, by the way.  I’m Ana, and this is Teddy.”  I purposefully avoid last names. 
“What a great name!  I’m Michelle, and this is Stephan.  Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.”  I respond.
Michelle pauses and thinks for a second.  “Ana, would you like to have a play date?  I don’t mean to be forward, but most of my friends are single and none have children.  It might be nice to hang out a little with someone in the same place, you know?”
I suddenly realize how much fun it was talking to her, another woman with a similar life situation.  Except she probably has a normal husband, a normal house, and doesn’t have three security guards trailing her right now.  I want this play date.  “That would be super.  What’s your phone number – I’ll send you a quick text so you will have mine, too.”  We exchange numbers and I make a mental note to change my voicemail to have just my first name.  I don’t know why I am being so secretive…well, yes I do.  I want to be liked for me, not as the wife of Christian Grey. 
As we exit the ladies room, I avoid eye contact with Harry.  I hate being rude, not acknowledging the staff, but I really don’t want my new friend to know I have to have security.  Michelle and I say goodbye and head off in different directions.  I wait until she’s out of sight before I turn to Harry, who has fallen in two steps behind me.  I notice that Sawyer has also joined us and is pacing me about 5 feet to my left.  “Is Ryan bringing the car around?”
“Yes, ma’am.  He is waiting at the South entrance.  This way please.”  Sawyer responded for Harry.  I realize I should have addressed my question to him as he is the senior man on the team.  Somedays I wonder if I will ever feel normal with all of this.
As soon as we are buckled into the car, Sawyer hands me a take out container from the restaurant at Neimans and a bottled water.  “Ma’am, I noticed you hadn’t had a chance to grab lunch.”  Noticed my derriere.  He is obviously under instructions to make sure I eat.  I want to object, call Christian, and tell then both where they can shove this sandwich…but I am hungry.  It really isn’t a threat to my independence if I eat. 
“Thank you, Sawyer.”
Just as I finish inhaling my food, I get a call from Grace.
“Ana dear, how are you and how is my precious grandson?”  I can practically hear her beaming over the phone.
“We’re good, Grace.  We are on our way home from Neimans and Teddy is conked out in his carseat.  How are you?” 
“To be honest, I am suffering from withdrawal.  I have not seen my grandson in nearly 72 hours and, if you’ll forgive me intruding, I would love to stop over today.”
She knows I can’t deny her, but I was really looking forward to a nap after this morning’s excursion.  “Why don’t you and Carrick come over for dinner, say around 6?”  We quickly agree to this plan and I shoot off a quick note.
To: Christian Grey
From:  Anastasia Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:27 pm
Subject: Deprived Grandparents
Christian,
Your parents will be coming over for dinner tonight, though I daresay they may not even notice if you and I aren’t there.  They will be over around 6.  Will you be home for dinner?
xo Ana
I’m just putting my Blackberry away when it buzzes with a response.
To: Anastasia Grey
From:  Christian Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:31 pm
Subject: Deprived husbands
Ana,
I had planned on an evening workout with Claude to get rid of some excess energy that has been building up, but I will cancel and be there for dinner.  Make sure Mrs. Taylor knows we will be four. 
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings
Excess energy, boy could I use that.  Or make him put it to good use!
To: Christian Grey
From:  Anastasia Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:33 pm
Subject: Deprived wives
I know of some ways to ease your deprivation (and encourage your depravity).
xo, and now breathing heavily, Ana
I blush as I hit send.  That should get him going.   The response comes back quickly.
To: Anastasia Grey
From:  Christian Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:36 pm
Subject: TEMPTRESS
SIX WEEKS. 
Christian Grey
Frustrated CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings
Oh no, not re-hashing this discussion.
To: Christian Grey
From:  Anastasia Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:39 pm
Subject: Other Things
As previously acknowledged, there is a plethora of ‘other things’ to be explored.  Free your mind, Christian.
Feeling imaginative, xo, Ana
Feeling quite please with myself throwing words he used so long ago back at him.  If Sawyer, Ryan, and Harry wonder why I’m grinning so widely, they don’t let it show. 
To: Anastasia Grey
From:  Christian Grey
Date: May 29, 2012  1:45 pm
Subject: Imagination Gone Wild
As ever, you make a fair point my dear wife.  Will spend the day in meetings contemplating ‘other things’ that will keep my mind from being free.  And watch that smart mouth – motherhood does not exempt one from spanking.  Come to think of it, spanking would be well within Dr. Green’s rules.
Christian Grey
Fantasizing CEO, Grey Enterprise Holdings
My ear to ear grin from that missive lasts me the rest of the day. 

CHAPTER 2 – Two Weeks

I jerk awake to the sound of the baby monitor.  Crap!  I fell asleep!  He knew I would, that swindler!  I disentangle myself from Christian’s limbs and head down the hall to Teddy’s room, which seems a mile away in my exhausted state.  Why do we live in a house so big that the nursery is practically in another state!
I get the baby diapered and fed, hatch a plan, and get back to bed to replenish my energy for the all out assault I am intending. 
Three hours later, Teddy gets me up again.  While we have our quite time together, I sing “Happy 2 week birthday” to him.  Once he is back to sleep, I decide to execute my plot.
I slip back into our room where Christian is sleeping sprawled out across the bed.  I slither up to him.  Hmmm, I’ll start at his neck.  I begin kissing him right below his earlobe, using just my lips at first, then using my tongue to lick from his earlobe down to his collarbone. I start to kiss across to the other side when he wakes with a jolt, and in half a second I am on my back pinned to the bed.
“Ana, no!” 
I don’t understand, why is he saying no?  Doesn’t he want me anymore? Then it dawns on me.  I’m out of shape, I just had a baby…I don’t turn him on anymore.  The spell is broken.  “You…you don’t want to?”  I am trying my hardest not to cry.
“Christ, Ana, of course I want to!  I spend hours on hours each day thinking how I want to and what I want to do with you and to you!  It takes every ounce of strength I have to hold back, especially when half of you is constantly exposed.  You just had a baby!  We need to wait.  For the love of God, Ana, don’t make this any more grueling that it is already!”  Oh, yes, he wants me.  Now to convince him.
“Christian, with what we do, there are rules.  Correct?” He is staring at me and I meet his gaze, attempting to compel him to answer.
“Yes, Ana, there are rules.”  Christian is eyeing me suspiciously and his grip on my shoulders remains firm.
“Well Dr. Green has provided some rules for us.  Penetration is not allowed, but orgasms are allowed.  Certainly someone with your expertise can think of several pleasing ways to comply with these rules, can’t you?” 
His lips are pursed as he contemplates the gauntlet laid down before him.  I feel time suspended as I wait for his response.  Then he gives his answer haltingly.  “Yes, Mrs. Grey, I believe I can.”  Woo hoo!  He raises his hand to my cheek, brushes back my hair, “God, I love you.”  Then his lips are on mine, gently, softly.  He pulls back and I take the opening to roll him onto the mattress and prop myself up over him.
“Tell me what you love about me.” 
Christian gazes at me for a moment, then speaks.  “I love your laugh.  Each time I hear it my whole being is uplifted.” As he speaks, I kiss his neck and begin moving down to his chest.
“I love your wit.  You challenge my mind and bring humor to my life.”  I work my way to his nipples, kissing and sucking one, then the other.
“I love your eyes.  They pierce through me to my soul.”  I continue down his torso, moving from side to side leaving no spot untouched.
“I love your intellect and ambition.  I am filled with pride with how you impress and accomplish.”  I nuzzle his belly button and kiss his happy trail.
“I love your compassion.  No less a heart could have reached mine.” I let my tongue trail from one hip bone to another.
“I love your body, every inch of it, what I can do to it, and what you do to me with it.” And with that, I take him in my mouth and he is silent save for the sound of his breath.  
I love this, the moments he relinquishes power to me.  He is at my mercy and I savor each second.  I can choose to go slow or fast, to tease him, to make him beg.  At a very measured pace I move down then up, appreciating every inch of my husband.  I pause at his tip, leaving just my tongue making contact.  Christian is holding his breath as he waits for me to move.  “Ana.”  It is a plea, so I smile and comply.  I resume my attention, steadily increasing my pace until he is on the edge.  I create a pattern of several soft strokes, followed by a long slow stroke with my lips clamped tightly around him. As I sense him near the precipice, I swirl my whole mouth around him and then suck hard, and effectively, and he groans as he comes.
I glide up to lie beside Christian.  “Mrs. Grey, you are the most delightful wake up call.”  I melt.  Then he is kissing me, and traveling down my body, slowly and teasingly.  It feels like it has been so long, I just crave his touch on my sex.  Christian seems to know this, and he kisses me everywhere but there.  Arms, hands, feet, legs, back and forth across my belly, down my sides.  I think I will burst soon.  At last he lays between my legs, and blows on me gently. 
“Ana, I need you tell me if anything is uncomfortable.  I need to trust that you will not let me hurt you.”
“I will,” I rasp.  “Please, Christian.”   He hesitates for a moment, then his mouth is on me.  I cry out, it is so heavenly.   It does not take long for me to crest as I call out “Oh, Christian!”
My beloved husband moves beside me.  “Don’t you feel better now?” I ask.
“Yes and no.  I’m afraid it will only whet my appetite, making it even more of a Herculean endeavor to keep away from you.”  As he says this I feel his erection expanding against my leg.  I’m about to take matters in hand, when Teddy squeals over the monitor.  We both sigh.  “I believe our son is telling us that is enough for today.”
“Enough for now, maybe.  But the day is young” I retort as I slip on my robe and head down the hall.
An hour later, Christian and I are dressed and having blueberry pancakes.  As it is Memorial Day, Christian will be home today, though I would bet (and win) that he will end up in his study at some point.  Christian worked from home the week after Teddy was born, and returned to the office last week.  I was surprised at how much I missed his company.  Maybe it was because I was not working.  Christian is emphatic that maternity leave is for Teddy and I, not for me to work from home.  I highly suspect he is checking my Grey Publishing email account for traffic.  Nevertheless, I am blithe to have him home on a Monday. 
“The pediatrician will be here at 11 for Teddy’s checkup” Christian announces.
“But his appointment is at 2 tomorrow, at their offices?”  What has the control freak done?
“He is two weeks today, he will have his two week checkup today.  And Dr. Pembers was very willing to accommodate us and come here.  Their offices are filled with sick kids in the waiting room, and I do not want to expose Teddy to all those germs.  Didn’t you read the article about pediatrician’s waiting rooms that I sent you?” 
What can I say to that?  I give him a smile and an exaggerated eye roll.  “I will find some way to dragoon you into relaxing.  Teddy is not the first baby in the world and will persist through all the germs, colds, and boo boos just like the rest.  You will not keep him in a cocoon, Mr. Grey.”  I walk away, because I will not win today and any discussion with the self-proclaimed safety monitor involving a perceived risk, real or imagined, must be undertaken with great preparation – or distance.  It is a lot easier to force my way if Christian isn’t in the room…or the building.
Dr. Pembers arrives promptly at 11, bringing with him a nurse, an infant scale, and the requisite doctor’s bag.  Teddy and I enter the family room as they are setting up.  “Thank you for coming to the house and for coming on a holiday, Dr. Pembers” I say, trying to sound apologetic.
“Well, Mr. Grey can be quite insistent, can’t he?”  I nod my ascent.  What is there to say?
Christian joins us as Dr. Pembers gets underway.  Teddy has grown three quarters of an inch and gained 5 ounces.  The doctor pokes, prods and examines, and Christian peppers him with questions.  He must have found some checklist online for the well visit – he probably forwarded it to me, too.  I should check. 
I can tell the doctor’s patience is running thin, but he remains calm and answers all Christian’s questions.  The only giveaway is an occasional deep breath. Finally, Teddy is declared a healthy and happy 2 week old. 
Christian’s cell phone rings as the doctor and nurse are packing up.  It really would have been much easier at their offices.  I overhear part of his conversation before he glances at me and heads to his study.  “I see.  What aversion tactics are advisable?  Okay, consider it done.” 
After the good doctor takes his leave and Teddy has been fed, Christian and I sit down to a lunch of leftovers from yesterday’s assembly.   “What was that call about?” I pry. 
Christian frowns “A contract didn’t go as planned and there may be litigation.  Nothing for you to worry about.”  Nothing worries me more than these words.  I am starting to learn that the more troubling something is, the less I am likely to know.  If Christian felt in control with the issue, he would simply tell me.   As I think this, a light bulb goes on…Christian has a tell!  I had never put two and two together before.  And now I’m worried, but I know better than to push my luck right this instant. 
Teddy and I take a nap, while Christian works in his study.  Afterwards, we go for a family stroll around the property.  Teddy is safely ensconced in one of the four strollers we have acquired:  one that works with the car seat, a jogging stroller so Christian can take him on runs, a Bugaboo regular stroller that is apparently what all the New York moms have, and the old fashioned baby carriage or pram, which Teddy is riding in now.  I have a strong feeling this is going to be one of the few outings with the pram, but it was hard to stop Christian from buying one of everything in the baby store.  He practically bought the store itself. 
“What do you think of a swing set here?” Christian asks as we get past the meadow to the east side of the property. 
“I think it is a little far from the house.  We need to be closer so we can keep an eye out.  Plus, you wouldn’t want a toddler to have a 10 minute walk to a bathroom, unless you plan on building a facility out here.”  Christian looks perplexed.  I add “and though I we’ve talked about leaving the meadow natural, I was thinking of maybe an English garden over here.” 
“I like your suggestions Mrs. Grey.”  He sighs and before I can query he adds “I’m used to thinking through so many things from every angle, to consider all the variables.  But it seems when it comes to children, I have trouble contemplating each concern.  Children need restrooms close by…it didn’t even cross my mind.  Do you want to build a facility out here?”
I laugh, “Not really.”  Before he doubts himself further, I change the topic.  “Wouldn’t an extensive vegetable and herb garden be nice.  It would need to be by the kitchen, so we could dash out and pick ingredients quickly.”  We talk on as we stroll, envisioning a gazebo by the water, some fruit trees lining the drive.  The perfect top off to a holiday weekend.

Chapter 1 – Memorial Day Memories

I am floating so close to the edge. 
Christian has been slowly savoring my breasts, sucking and tonguing them.  I want him to touch me all over, but he won’t.  He just smirks and me and continues unrelentingly.  I am begging him for release.  “Please”, I whimper.  I know from experience, begging will get me nowhere.  Things will happen Christian’s way at Christian’s pace.  I start to feel the familiar pull, building ever so slowly.   I buck my hips to try to make some contact, to feel any tiny bit of pressure, but I cannot find any part of Christian to press against.  I am moaning and writhing, while he continues the protracted onslaught.  My breathing is labored and my throat is dry.  I. Am. So. Close.  If only he would touch me.  There.  Just once. 
Suddenly Christian bites down on my nipple and orgasmic waves wash over me and I feel like I am falling.  I jerk awake. 
Holy shit!  Did that just happen?  I am sitting in the glider in the nursery, it is an hour before dawn and my just fed son is lying in my arms in a milk induced sleep.  I had read about women sometimes having an orgasm from nursing in one of the dozen or so pregnancy, childbirth, and baby’s first year books that Christian downloaded to my iPad as ‘suggested reading’ (such subtle suggestions!).  I’m wondering what Christian will think about this, then it dawns on me that any story that starts with ‘I fell asleep while nursing our infant son’ isn’t going to sit well with Mr. Fifty.  Despite the fact that while sitting in this absolutely luxe glider (that is more like a top of the line barcalounger than a nursery glider) with a nursing pillow fastened around my middle it is not physically possible to for Teddy to do anything but lie against me, I know my Fifty.  He’ll only see the safety violation.  I can’t help but roll my eyes recollecting the ‘safety tour’ of the house Christian had the baby proofers give me.  Forgetting the fact that this baby won’t sit up for several months, let alone crawl, walk, or get into the liquor supply.  Every shade, outlet, cord, sharp edge, and step has been secured, plugged, removed, padded, or gated.   
The sun is starting to rise and I gaze down at our son.  Thirteen days old today.  Mr. Theodore Raymond Grey.  Though I knew it was a long shot, I had hopes he would come on his due date, May 21st since the date holds a special memory…the anniversary of the ‘drunk dialing’ incident.  Teddy had his own ideas though and arrived on May 14th. 
I glance at the personalized clock with Teddy’s name on the wall and see that it is after 6 am.  The clock is hung intentionally right across from the glider so I can keep track of the time nursed on each breast.  Of course Christian has read up on this, too, and had taken it upon himself to act as my personal lactation coach, until I had to draw the line.  I can concede his superior knowledge and the worth of studying up on the safety issues, but I would not take nursing advice from someone who never has and never will have breasts!  Argh!
I should go back to sleep, but I don’t think I can after my little episode.  Besides, the entire Grey clan is coming over for a Memorial Day weekend barbeque.  Though I tried to set the time for late afternoon, Grace kept negotiating me down until I conceded to noon.  She just couldn’t handle a day while she counted down the hours to seeing her grandson.  And I really should cut her a break…after all she only comes over every other day, and she really did try to hold back while my Mom and Bob were here the first week. 
I suddenly remember that I am thirsty.  I glance over at the table next to the glider and see an empty glass.  Whoops.  Lactation coach Grey is tsk tsking in my head that I did not fill my water glass ahead so I could drink the required ounces of water while nursing.  I stand up, unvelcro the nursing pillow and let it drop to the floor, and carry Teddy over to the crib.  After laying him down, I head down to the kitchen, remembering to take the wireless monitor receiver with me.
By the time Christian joins me an hour later, I have imbibed two glasses of water, eaten an omelet, and I’m sitting at the kitchen island.  He saunters into the kitchen in his typical Sunday morning pajama bottoms looking delicious.  “Good morning, Mrs. Grey.  You didn’t come back to bed after feeding Teddy.  You really should sleep when he sleeps.”  He kisses me on top of my head and inhales.  I want to reach out and grab him and take him right on the island – which to be accurate is more like a small continent than an island.  Christian has been taking the no sex for 6 weeks postpartum thing a little too literally.  Since our first time together, the longest we’ve ever been apart has been 6 days.  Now on day 13, this is killing me.  I realize the lack of contact is likely the provocation for my dream.  I will never make it to 42 days.
I notice Christian is staring at me waiting for a response. “I was hungry”, I shrug.  This is the Christian Grey equivalent to a get out of jail free card.  “I had an omelet, would you like one?”  The patented Ana Steel, er, Grey distraction technique.  It never actually fools Christian, but he recognizes it means I want a topic change and he usually obliges. 
“I would love one, Mrs. Grey”.   I slide off my chair and on tip toe give him a quick, modest peck.  “As you wish, Mr. Grey”. 
In the kitchen, I am in my element.  I glance in the fridge for ingredients and quickly grab the eggs, a brick of cheddar any foodie would die for, and a green pepper.  I have to tease my husband a little, “Want to dice the pepper?” I ask innocently. 
“Are you mocking me, Mrs. Grey?  You know how I feel about that.”  He is scowling at me, but I know he is teasing. 
“Stow your twitchy palm, Mr. Grey and I will exercise every bit of willpower I have to resist rolling my eyes at you”.  I giggle, which elicits an ear to ear grin from my husband.
I whip up an omelet with the peppers, made with three egg whites and one whole egg, sprinkled with some grated cheddar.  The mix of eggs and egg whites is Christian’s new favorite, ever since a hotel chef introduced him to it on a business trip a few months back.  I sit back to watch him eat.  Christian really relishes food.  The obsession goes far beyond the deep fear of being hungry; he truly savors each bite and appreciates each flavor.  He is just finishing when the monitor grabs our attention. 
“I believe our son would like his breakfast, too, Mrs. Grey.  I’ll get him and bring him down.” 
“Meet me in the family room, and grab the nursing pillow, please.”  Now I am grinning ear to ear as I get up and head to the family room.  Who would have thought it, Christian Grey does diapers? 
Initially Christian hired a registered nurse to be on duty with Teddy, but she and I kept tripping over each other.  Plus, since I am nursing she could not feed Teddy anyway.  And I couldn’t help but feel territorial around her.  Yes, she knows more about babies than I ever will…but Teddy is my baby and I’ll figure it out.  It isn’t like he is the first baby ever born, women do this every day!  After witnessing my frustration level rising each day, Christian finally conceded that maybe a nurse was not essential after all.  Thank God for small victories. 
Christian walks into the family room taking very deliberate steps.  He has both hands wrapped around Teddy, has the nursing pillow strapped around his shoulder, and a burp cloth and receiving blanket under his arm.  I know he wants to be relaxed and casual, but he just can’t help himself.  I empathize with the overwhelming responsibility of such a vulnerable charge, but I am struggling less with these feelings than my poor husband.
I also note that he put a t-shirt on before getting the baby.  Sigh.
I smile, take the nursing pillow and fasten it around my waist, and sink down in an exceedingly comfortable armchair.  Everything in this room is remarkably comfortable.  Big, cozy couches face an indescribably large television; there is a wall of shelves and cubbies overflowing with toys Teddy won’t use for months, and a wide open space for Teddy to play in the middle. 
I open my robe and Christian hands the baby to me and I position him to nurse.  He latches immediately and I’m relieved – no need for Mr. Control freak to try and offer positioning tips (again!). 
While Teddy feeds, I think about the undeclared elephant in the room.  I need to address this, but I need a strategy.  Christian doesn’t want Teddy touching him.  It never even occurred to me that he would have the same qualms with a baby that he has with others.  Teddy is not some stranger, after all, this is his son, his flesh and blood.  And I have to agree with all the books – there is just something about the skin to skin contact with your baby that is so…unifying.   
I look up and realize that while I have been lost in my thoughts, Christian has been studying me intently.  “See something you like, Daddy?” I say with a smirk as I switch Teddy to my other breast.
“It’s just…difficult to...comprehend that something that was…something I enjoyed solely for pleasure...can be so…functional.”  Hmmm…functional?  I’m not sure how I feel about that.  What I was feeling earlier was not was one would call functional.  Christian is still staring at me.  I have a sense he wants to ask me something, but I can’t decipher it from his expression.  “Where is your water glass?”  Whoa, change in direction.  Now he is scowling at me.
“Um, I, uh, forgot” I mumble sheepishly.
“Oh, Mrs. Grey, what would you do without me?”  Oh, Mr. Grey, I would be lost. I give him a shrug and he smiles as he gets up and heads to the kitchen.  He returns in a moment with a large glass of ice water which he places carefully on a coaster on the table beside me.  I’m suddenly aware that I am exceedingly thirsty. 
“Thank you, Mr. Grey.” I pick up the glass and swig several large gulps.  “Much better.”  He has a smug look on his face – but not entirely.  Ever since he found out I was pregnant, and even more so the past two weeks, I catch glimpses of fear in his eyes.  And I know what he is afraid of – loss of control.  He cannot control a baby, or the child he will become. 
I have come up with a plan – a direct attack.  I lift Teddy to my shoulder and pat gently until I hear a burp that could belong to a tattooed guy who had just drunk a six pack.  Both Christian and I laugh.
I stand up and extract myself from the nursing pillow.  “Christian, I want you to do something.”  He is on his feet immediately and looking at me questioningly.  “Take your shirt off.”
He instantly knows where I am going.  “Ana, I…I don’t think I can”.
“I do.  I’m not trying to push you past your limits and I don’t want to expatiate about it. Just try.”  Our eyes are locked.  I don’t want a showdown over this, but I know if I let him persist with this avoidance, the anxiety in him will proliferate. “Please, Christian.”
He takes a deep breath and whispers “I’ll try.”  He reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly lifts it over his head and lets it drop to the floor.  His breathing has increased.  I had better move expediently lest his resolve fail.
“Lie down on the couch” I command.  In the back of my mind I find that intriguing, and make a mental note to think about it another time.  He lays down with his head on one overstuffed arm of the couch and his feet on another.  A thought pops into my head and I lay Teddy on the carpet and remove his onesie.  Then I pick him up and look into Christian’s gray eyes.  I see his trepidation, but he gives me a nod of ascent.  I place Teddy on Christian’s bare torso and I take Christian’s hand and place it on Teddy’s back.  I let my lips brush his chest before I kneel on the carpet beside them.  Christian is panting, so I sit up on my knees and brush my hand across his brow.  “Shhhh.  He can’t hurt you.  He is just a baby, your baby, and he loves you.  Shhh.”  Teddy nuzzles against his father’s chest and Christian flinches.  I persevere, murmuring to Christian, soothing his anxiety.  Christian is grimacing, but he hasn’t asked me to take Teddy.  “Shhh, baby.  You’re doing so well.”  I don’t know how long we go on, but slowly Christian’s breathing becomes regular.  After I while I sit back on my ankles, I glance at Teddy.  “Well Daddy, it appears you son has dozed off.”
My husband glances down at the sweet baby asleep on his chest.  Christian hesitantly rubs Teddy’s back.  “Yes, it appears he has.”
“Are you okay?  Did I push you too far?”
“No, Anastasia, you did not push me too far.  You pushed me just far enough.”  He is gazing down at his child and I feel the tears welling up.  I look in his gray eyes and see they, too, are watery. 
Without thinking I spring up and press my lips to his.  “You are going to be an amazing father, Mr. Grey” I whisper.  Suddenly I have a fabulous thought.  “Wait - don’t move!”
“Sweetheart, where could I go” he chuckles, glancing down at Teddy. 
I quickly run to his study where I find the camera.  Every night since Teddy’s birth he downloads the photos of the day.  The nautical clock on the wall says it is 11 am.  Where does the time go on a lazy Sunday!  I dash back and Christian quickly realizes what I am up to.  “Oh Mrs. Grey, you are taking advantage of my temporary immobility.  I will get you back for this.”
“I know, Mr. Grey” I say as I snap away.  I finish with our little photo session and kneel down next to my two men again.  “Are you still okay?”
I get the answer I’m hoping for, “Yes.  This is so…tender.  He trusts us so much.”  Fifty sounds almost surprised.
“That’s what babies are, absolute love and trust.”  I feel myself starting to get weepy again.  Damn hormones.  “Honey, I want to take a quick shower, will you be okay if I leave you like this?”
“I think I’m going to be fine.”  Christian fixes he eyes on mine, “you’re really going to mentor me through this whole parenting thing, aren’t you?”
“Every step of the way, baby,” I lean in and nuzzle my nose against his, then turn and kiss the top of Teddy’s head. 
“Okay then, you can hit the showers.”  I look at him, uncertain for a moment.  Then I rise, grab the receiving blanket and drape it over Teddy, and head upstairs.
I call back over my shoulder “Laters, baby.”
Though I am tempted to linger in the hot water and indulge myself a bit, I know the Grey tribe will be arriving in less than an hour.  I cut my shower short, dry my hair, and set about the challenging task of finding clothes.  I refuse to wear maternity clothes, but my body is nowhere close its pre-Teddy shape after only 2 weeks.  I can’t wait until I’m cleared to work out with Claude.  Since I was already pregnant when I started exercising, Claude kept things pretty light.  However, I know he has a post pregnancy boot camp planned for me. 
I find a teal-blue, a-line, sundress that falls just above my knee.  It was never a favorite before because it didn’t emphasize my waist, but today that is a plus.  And it fits.  It is a little snug across the chest, which reminds me Teddy will be due to eat soon.  I slip on a pair of tan flats and head downstairs.
I’m heading towards the kitchen when Ryan intercepts me.  “Mr. and Dr. Grey just drove through the main gate, ma’am.”  They’re early.  Grandparents just cannot be denied.  I tip toe back to the family room and see that Christian and Teddy are napping.  It occurs to me I’ve never seen my husband nap before.  He barely sleeps at night, and never when the sun is out.  I hear the Grey’s car outside and realized I’d better intercept them before they knock or, God forbid, ring the bell.  I reach the door just in time and open it, surprising Grace, with her finger heading towards the bell, and Carrick, with his hand raised in a fist to knock.”
Grace begins to squeak “And where is my”
“SHHHH!” I interrupt.  I motion for them to follow me and indicate with my finger to my lips that they should be quiet.  They obediently do as requested, but Grace’s smart pumps are clacking against the marble floor.  I point to her shoes and gesture for her to take them off.  She looks quizzical, but lifts each foot in turn to her hand and removes them.  They follow me to the family room entrance and I give them the quiet sign one more time.
Then I lead them in the room and around the couch to see.  I hear Grace gasp emotionally and I turn to see tears in Carrick’s eyes as they gaze upon their son and grandson sleeping.  They know the enormity of seeing their son bare-chested with another person, even if it is an infant.  Grace wraps an arm around me, and Carrick stands behind us with one hand around each our shoulders as we watch Christian’s chest rise and fall. 
Then Teddy stretches, yawns, and blinks his eyes open.  He makes the cutest little ‘eh’ sound, at which Christian’s eyes fly open.  Christian takes in the scene of the three people gazing at him and the now squirming child on his chest.  “Looks like I am the entertainment.”  I’m not certain if he is angered, amused, or confused.  “A little help here?”
I jump in and take Teddy off his chest and immediately hand him over to his raring to go grandparents.  “Can you take him up to the nursery?  I’ll be there in a minute to get him dressed in something that will meet with his fashion savvy aunts’ approval.”  As Grace and Carrick make their way out, goo-ing and gah-ing with each step, I grab the burp cloth from where I left it on the chair and hold it out to Christian.  “Mr. Grey, it appears you have been drooled upon.” 
As he takes the cloth from me and wipes his chest he replies “Yes, it appears our son takes after his mother in that respect.”
“I do not drool!”
“Yes you do, Mrs. Grey.  In your sleep.”  I am faced with the infamous Christian Grey heart warming, full on charm smile and he pulls me into an embrace.  His expression turns serious, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For your patience, your understanding, for knowing what I need.  In short, for being you.  Someday you will have to tell me how I got so fortunate to win you over all the other suitors.”  He kisses me gently on my lips, then my nose, then my forehead. 
“Mr. Grey, as you well know there were no other suitors that were ever considered viable.  Only you.”  Since we are on the verge of a house full of guests, I add “and though I am yours, your son is getting hungry and I must attend to him.”
Christian’s smile returns partially as he retorts “Make sure the young master realizes you and certain aspects of your anatomy are a loan and are not his to keep.”
“Yes, sir!”  With that, I rush off to see what the doting grandparents have accomplished and Christian heads off to a shower.
Forty minutes later, Teddy is fed, burped, and attired in a little infant sailor’s outfit, complete with matching booties and a sailor’s cap that keeps falling off.  Nevertheless, Kate and Mia give adoring shrieks as we come out onto the patio and my son is swept from my arms and is being fought over by the swarming aunts.  The gang’s all here, Grace and Carrick, Elliott and Kate, and Mia and Ethan, who are, depending upon the day you ask, a couple, just friends, in between, or something else.  Christian joins us just as I am distributing margaritas and iced tea to everyone. 
Christian and I wade through Grace’s innumerable questions on Teddy’s progress.  Eating every three hours. Check.  Sufficient action in the diapers.  Check.  Sufficient sleep for baby.   Check.  Sufficient sleep for Mommy.  Since my early morning start, I am flagging a bit, but I’ll last.  As soon as I see an opening, I go for the topic change.
“Is there anything left to organize for the wedding?  Four weeks to go!”  And Kate and Mia are off.  Elliott and Kate’s nuptials, aka: THE wedding will be at the Hotel Monaco in downtown Seattle, there will be about 275 guests including some of Mr. Kavanaugh’s business contacts, and promises to be a production worthy of Broadway.  There are seven bridesmaids, including Mia, 2 friends from college, 2 cousins, a new friend from work, and yours truly as the matron of honor.  Kate, Elliott, and the Kavanaugh’s evidently had the food tasting this week and have settled on eleven butlered hors d’oevres, four sit down courses plus an intermezzo, a trio of desserts plated together, and, of course cake.  Did I say cake?  I meant to say a five tiered tira misu cake with a mocha sauce waterfall.  There will be three bands: one for cocktail hour, one for the main dance floor, and a jazz combo in a ‘quiet’ room to the side.  That doesn’t count the six piece string section for the ceremony.  Kate is ebullient and glowing.  As she moves on to talking about the brunch the next morning, which we will all be at since we’ll all be staying at the hotel, Christian and I glance at each other.  I’ll have to persuade Kate later, but with a newborn there is really no way we are staying at the hotel.  We’ll come home and go back the next day for the brunch.
The conversation has turned to the bachelor party.  Christian isn’t thrilled about that, either, but as the best man, he has no choice but to host one.  Christian pretends to be coy and tight lipped about the plan, but I know he hasn’t really made one since he would much rather get out of it.  I’ll have to work on him.
The afternoon passes agreeably.  Christian gives the guys a demonstration of the upgraded security system with high definition video monitoring. I excuse myself periodically to feed and change Teddy.  I think I could be one of those moms that is comfortable nursing in public, but it really isn’t worth the chastisement I would get from Mr. Fifty.  It would not do for the wife of Christian Grey to have ‘the girls’ visible in even a family setting, let alone public.  I cringe when I recall the topless sunbathing incident from our honeymoon.  Nope, don’t want to go there again.
When it’s time to eat, Mia helps me set out an array of salads, and the men take the marinated steaks out to the grill.  The grill is an excessively feature laden top of the line propane model, and everyone knows off the bat that Christian hasn’t a clue what to do with it.  Carrick takes over as grill master with Elliott as his sidekick. 
As everyone is relaxing after dinner a yawn escapes me.  Christian hops up and ‘rescues’ me.  “Ladies and gentleman, I believe it is time for my sleep deprived wife to go to bed.”  A flurry of hugs, kisses and goodbyes later, our little family is heading up to bed. 
After getting Teddy fed and in bed, I turn my attention to my husband.  In my closet I slip on a pink silk chemise that falls just below my bottom.  I sachet out into the bedroom mustering every ounce of sexy I can wrangle from my tired inner goddess.  I come up behind Christian, put my arms around him, kiss his shoulder...
“No.” What!
“Anastasia, the good doctor said six weeks and that’s that.”  Argh!
“Christian, she specifically said no sex for six weeks.  There are, um, other things we could do.” 
Christian sighs, turns and looks at me.  “Fair point, well made, Mrs. Grey.  Let me just have a quick shower, and I’ll join you.  Wait for me in bed.”  He gives me a teasing kiss on the lips and I smile.  In the back of my head I’m wondering if he is trying to trick me into falling asleep, so I pledge not to doze off.