Christian Grey finds the crack whore’s diary

All of these characters belong to EL James. I wrote this for my entertainment and for those who can’t get enough of the Grey clan.
After I tell Ana about the safe, I figured I should at least go through it to see if there is anything else that I have forgotten was there. I found the combination where I had left it and started working the dials. It took me 10 minutes to work the combination open. I started pulling things out. After going through most of the stuff that was of no use to me anymore, I got ready to shut it up and a small box, tied with string caught my eye. I picked it up and sat at my desk to open it. In it was a dirty, broken police car with its light missing, a bunch of tobacco that was “glued” together and a small book. Something in the back of my mind was trying to remember why this was so familiar. I remember that mom had given me this box and told me to keep it and when I was ready, I should open it and go through it. It was all that I had from my past. That was it…..the book was written by the crack whore. She called it her diary. I remembered that and she said that I was never to let anyone have it before I read something that she had written to me, but I should wait until I was older so that I would understand. Ana has been bugging me to go to the cemetery to visit the crack whore’s grave. Maybe this will be a good time to go and take the diary with me. I called my mom and asked her opinion and she totally agreed with Ana. Of course she did. Wasn’t Ana always right in her eyesight? I text Taylor and told him we were going to the crack whore’s grave, just him and I. I sat down on the bench that was put there by my mom and dad and was told that anytime I wanted to come out there, that I should and just sit and talk to her. Yeah, right. Fat chance of that happening but now I find myself sitting at the head of her grave, opening up her private life.
Friday, June 17, 1983 10:05 a.m.
Dear Diary:
Whoa, I don’t think I could be in labor, or maybe I am, I muse as another sharp pain shoots through my back. As a matter of fact, this one was so sharp that I had to lay in the fetal position on my bare, stained, smelly mattress that was held up by 8 concrete blocks. That was the best I could do. Mr. Daddy Sir, which is what my pimp insisted that I call him, only gave me enough money that he got from his customers who would come in horny as a dog in heat and usually drunk from cheap wine. They liked to patronize Mr. Daddy Sir cause he never charged very much for laying with me. Usually, just enough for him to buy his cheap liquor, his cigarettes and the bare essentials for my hygiene and enough food to keep me from starving to death. Another thing, they had the choice of whether or not they used condoms. Mr. Daddy Sir said that when they used condoms, it was like eating a sucker with the wrapper on, so they were allowed to make that decision. I was never even able to have an orgasm except for one time. There were no rules. Even though he knew that what he was doing was against the law, he thought he was too smart to get caught.
As my pain subsided, I reflected back on how I had gotten myself in this position to begin with. As far back as I can remember, I was bounced from one foster home to another. I was born in a prison to a mother who was incarcerated for prostitution (5th time), to support her drug habit. In all of the foster homes that I lived in, my foster parents just needed someone to be able to supply their financial needs, and as I got older, to clean their houses and to babysit their “real” children.
I finally left the system and started living on the streets. I prostituted myself for a while until one of my “clients” introduced me to crack. From then on, I was a lost cause. I met Mr. Daddy Sir and he told me that if I would let him be my pimp, I could have all of the crack that I wanted, and I wouldn’t have to want for anything. At first, it was cool. I did have as much crack as I wanted but that only lasted for a few months. He then just gave it to me when I was feigning so badly, I wasn’t worth anything to him because I couldn’t satisfy his customers.
Maybe I am in labor. At least early labor because the pains are so far apart. I will just wait it out until I can’t take it anymore.
7:15 p.m.
Oh no, here he comes. I hear him bellowing out my name from the time he hits the door. “Ella, get your ass ready, I want to fuck”. I begged him to please let me be because I think I am in labor. His yells his favorite phrase at me again, “you think I give a fuck?” If I would have known earlier, you wouldn’t be havin’ the little bastard”. As usual, I get backhanded so hard it knocks me on the floor. I yell out in pain as he takes me hard and rough from behind. When he is sated, he stumbles out of the door calling me a dumb bitch and telling me to go clean myself up because I will have an appointment in an hour. All I can do is lay there and cry. Another pain hits me and I cry out in agony. They have been coming closer together now. I have got to get out of here. Maybe I can leave while he is gone and call 911 from the pay phone on the corner. Detroit has a pretty good system for unwed mothers. If you call the rescue squad, they will get you in immediately. Just as they are loading me in the squad, I see Mr. Daddy Sir rounding the corner with my appointment. He can’t see who I am as I cover my head and turn my back. I am safe at last….for now anyway.
June 18, 1983 12:15 a.m.
I have no idea who the father of this child is. How on earth am I going to take care of him? I can’t even take care of myself. At least, I had the common sense not to use crack while I was pregnant. I had heard too many horror stories but now I will be able to use again after he is born. My pains are getting closer and closer and the attending doctor said that it wouldn’t be long now. I sure hope he is right because I can’t take this pain much longer. They have given me something for the pain but it doesn’t help much. I feel something warm running down between my legs and I think it is blood. I push the call button in a panic and when the nurse comes in to examine me, she tells me that they are going to prepare me for delivery as my water broke. What the hell does that mean? Mr. Daddy Sir wouldn’t allow me to see a doctor during my pregnancy because he didn’t want to spend the money and he didn’t want to lose me turning tricks for him. He was afraid that I would be told that I couldn’t have sex. That was not true but he was convinced that it was. I am being hustled in to the delivery room and all I can remember is that some doctor gave me an IV. I was out like a light.
6 a.m.
They woke me up at 12:30 a.m. and told me that I had a beautiful baby boy and asked me If I wanted to hold him. They had a hard time keeping me awake because I was so worn out so they let me sleep for a couple of more hours. By 4:30 a.m., I was wide awake and ready to see my little boy. When I pushed the call button, the nurse came in and asked me if I was ready to seem my baby. She said that he was the prettiest baby in the nursery and that he had the most unusual gray colored eyes and a head full of dark copper curly hair. Prettiest baby that they had ever seen. Word got around to the staff at the hospital about this beautiful little guy that was in the nursery and they came from every floor just to see him.
When she brought him in, all I could do was stare at him. I now knew who fathered this child. I don’t know his name, but I remembered those beautiful gray eyes. As a matter of fact, he was the one that I had the orgasm with. I was so drawn to his eyes, that I just completely let myself go, whereas with the others, I would send myself to another place until they were sated. He was a real nice guy too. He stayed and talked to me and even gave me some extra money and told me not to let Mr. Daddy Sir know or he would just beat me and take it from me. He told me a little about himself and what he did. I can’t really remember except that it had something to do with math. The nurses were certainly right on him being a beautiful baby.
Monday, June 27, 1983 3 a.m.
Dear Diary:
The team from social services, knowing that I was single and just about homeless, asked me if I wanted to have my tubes tied so that I wouldn’t have any more children. I readily agreed. The next morning, they took me to surgery and did what they had to do. Detroit social services took care of all of the charges but if I wanted any further help, I would have to come to their office. I told them that as soon as I was able, I would make the appointment. I knew then that I was never going to be able to go. Mr. Daddy Sir would never allow it. When I was discharged from the hospital, I had no choice but to return to Mr. Daddy Sir. The hospital gave me a starter kit for my darling little Christian and sent us “home” in a taxi, thankful for the little bit of help that they gave me. I needed help with my little Christian. I named him after the man who wrote the Ugly Duckling, something Christian Anderson, maybe Hans or something like that. I just remember that I loved that name. And now, I had someone of my own to love and hold close to me. Mr. Daddy Sir left me alone for about six weeks because he said that I smelled funny and I was nasty, and all bloody. I don’t know how long it will be before I can write anything else in here because between taking care of my baby and Mr. Daddy Sir’s customers, I stay really busy.
Monday, June 3, 1986 7 p.m.
Dear Diary: It has been almost 3 years since my little guy was born. Mr. Daddy Sir is getting meaner by the day.
Christian has grown into a beautiful and extremely intelligent little toddler. He would make piles of anything that he could find and then count them. I heard him count up to 769 one day. How did he learn that? I only taught him how to count up to 10. The rest he learned on his own. He would tear Mr. Daddy Sir’s cigarette butts open and count the tobacco strands. He would then place them in piles of 100, scatter them apart and start all over again, only each time he started, he would put them in piles of different numbers. Anything that he would get his little hands on, he would take apart, even his little toys that I would find when going through trash just for that purpose. I couldn’t afford to buy him anything so that was what I did to try to find something that would entertain him. After he would take them apart, he would put them back together again. One day, I found a clock that had the numbers on it that you could pull off. He took it apart, put the numbers in a heap in no particular order and then placed them back on the clock. Joining in with him in his self appointed playtime, I would mix the numbers up so that they would not be in order on the clock. He would look at the clock and say to me, “No, mommy, you still don’t have it right. See, I show you again how they go. I think that I have given birth to a reincarnation of an ancient Mayan, knowing their reputation for being geniuses in the mathematician area. Hmmm, wonder if he got that from his father who did something with math.
Friday, June 20, 1986 7 a.m.
Dear Diary:
I had taught Christian not to enter into Mr. Daddy Sir’s bedroom when the door was closed so that he would not come in while his mother was being fucked into next week by one of her clients.
Mr. Daddy Sir’s abuse of me was getting worse. He started to beat me in front of Christian and when he tried to stop him, he would abuse Christian. I knew that if I would try to stop him, he would make the punishment worse. I’m thinking that if I didn’t do anything to prevent him from beating us, that he would stop eventually. One day when he came in drunk, smoking his cigarettes, he couldn’t find anything to put his cigarette butts in. Christian had started crying because of his fear of just seeing Mr. Daddy Sir and knowing what was going to take place after he brought me out of the bedroom. Mr. Daddy Sir told him to “shut up, you little shit”. He then grabbed hold of Christian’s little arm, pulled him to him and ground out the cigarette butt in to my poor little boy’s chest. Christian screamed like nothing I had ever heard, and I could actually smell the flesh burning. I couldn’t take it. Knowing what was going to happen, I picked up the one lamp and started beating Mr. Daddy Sir like I was a woman possessed. He let go of Christian and beat me into unconsciousness. When I came to, little Christian was huddled in a corner and just kept repeating, ”mommy, mommy, mommy. Please help me. The man hurt Christian. Please, mommy, don’t let him hurt Christian again”. I told him that I would protect him and that we were going to leave “the man”. I had no idea where we were going to go, but I had to protect my little reincarnated ancient Mayan mathematical genius. Neither of us had had anything to eat but bread, stale bologna and water for at least 3 days and poor little Christian kept saying that his tummy was hungry and it hurt.

Friday, June 19, 1987 9 a.m.
Dear Diary:
I had to pick the right time to leave and today was it.
Yesterday was Christian’s 4th birthday. We made mud pies and pretended they were birthday cakes. I told him that he could us the mud to glue things together, which he did with some of his toy car parts. I told him that it couldn’t get wet though. His little response was, “Okay, mommy. Christian will take care not to get them wet.
12 noon after Mr. Daddy Sir leaves:
All of our possessions could fit into a grocery bag and as we were preparing to leave, Mr. Daddy Sir stormed through the door in his usual drunken state, sees our things packed and yells, “Are you going somewhere?” He immediately takes off his belt and grabs me and forces me into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Christian, being so hungry, opened the door asking “the man” to please feed him. He saw Mr. Daddy Sir’s penis hanging out. I begged him, “Please, Mr. Daddy Sir, not in front of my kid”. His usually reply was, “Do you think I give a fuck?”, and proceed to have his way with me.
After he was sated, he started chain smoking and again, put his butts out on my little Christian, all over his little body. I could only watch and cry like my heart was breaking because it was. I knew that if I did something to stop him from torturing Christian, he would knock me unconscious again and I had to stay awake so that we could leave the house as soon as he left. When he finally did leave, I comforted my child as best I could with cold water packs made with some washcloths to stop the burning. I finally said, “Okay, Christian, we are out of here”. Just as we walk out of the door, Mr. Daddy Sir walks in. I’m asking myself, what is he doing here. He is usually gone for several hours at a time. It has only been about 30 minutes since he left. Seems as though in my haste to leave, I didn’t notice that he left his cigarette package on the bedroom dresser and he had returned to retrieve it. Oh lord, no. He is going to kill us for sure. After my beating and him using Christian as an ashtray, he once again, left. This time, I will give him time to get to the corner hang-out, leave and go in the opposite direction. Maybe I can flag down a policeman. We get as far as the sidewalk in front of the house and he comes from out of nowhere, grabs both of us and ushers us back in the house. The abuse starts all over again. It was then that I make the determination to end it all. If I kill myself, surely, Mr. Daddy Sir will send someone in to get Christian. Maybe, just maybe, if I pray earnestly enough that my darling little Christian, whom I love more than life itself, will be able to be adopted by a good family who is worthy enough to be my darling son’s “parents” and who will love him the way that I do.
With my mind made up, I go to the cabinet under the sink and get a bottle of liquid drain opener. I have to make sure that I drink it all so that Christian doesn’t try to drink what mommy is drinking. Before I do this horrendous deed, I write a note to my little boy.
To my dearest, most handsome, darling little son, Christian:
If you can still see the stains on this page, they are the tears that I shed as I write this to you.
I want you to know that I did all that I could to protect you, little darling. It just seemed as though I just couldn’t do enough. I hope that one day, you will be able to read this so that you will know just how very much I love you and yes, even in death, I will continue to love you. One of these days, when you have your wife and your own children, you will know what true love is. You will die to protect them just like I am now dying to protect you, my love. If blessings were mine to give, I would bless you with the ability to be able to provide to others what I have not been able to provide for you. I would bless you with the ability to have all of the health, wealth and happiness that you deserve as an adult and that you deserved but didn’t have as a child. And finally, I would bless you to have all of the love from your family that I have for you, 10 fold and more. Good bye, my darling Christian. One of these days, we will meet on the other side but until then, I leave you, my precious son, with all that I have and that is all of my love forever. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Your mommy.
To the family who gets my darling little Christian:
If you can find it in your hearts to let this precious little boy know that his crack addicted mother, regardless of all of her faults and wrong doings, did the best that she could with her son. Also, please, please, please, try to convey to him that I loved him and even in death, love him with every ounce of my being. I just could not pull us out of the hell that I got us into. I pray that you come to love this little guy as I have and do all in your power to help him to overcome his issues that, given what he has been through, he is bound to have. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. May God bless you all! Ella.

I pour the liquid into a plastic cup, call my son to come lay down with mommy and start drinking the liquid quickly so that I empty the cup. I started singing to him that mommy loves Christian with all of my heart, mommy loves Christian with all of my heart, mo m m y l o v s Ch r I s

After I finish reading, I realize that it has been 2 hours since Taylor and I got here. I feel Taylor’s presence next to me on the bench, never moving a muscle. I stare at the grave site and realize that I have the full story now. All of these years, I have been thinking that Ella, the crack whore didn’t care anything about me. Now I know that she did care for me and did love me. I don’t feel like I should call her the crack whore anymore. It makes me feel badly that the woman that brought me in this world should be called anything disrespectful. As I get up to leave, I asked Taylor to give me a minute. When he is out of earshot, I stand there and tell her, “Thank you for trying your best to protect me and what you did to save me. Please forgive me for calling you, the one who gave me life, a crack whore. I realize that I do love you. Goodbye mommy, rest in peace. I understand now. As Taylor and I make the drive back to town, I think about everything that I read in Ella’s diary. Tears form in the corners of my eyes and unashamed, I wipe them away. This will not be my last visit to Lake View Cemetery.

Christian and Ana: Plans to keep a promise

All of these characters belong to EL James.

After a morning of glorious wake up sex, I lay with my girl in my arms, thinking about how blest I am to have this beautiful angel in my life. I never thought that I could be so lucky. As a matter of fact, I never even thought of it at all. I thought my life would be filled with the come and go subs that I had become accustomed to having entertain me on weekends, that’s if they stayed around long enough. Even though the subs were in and out of my life, there was always something missing. I felt just like I was an empty vessel, just accepting this hollowness, not even waiting to be filled. My life was having the responsibility of employees all over the world, my goal being to feed as many of the world’s starving population as I could and to develop and distribute cell phones that could go for a month or longer, without being charged. No time to think about anything else or even the desire to do so. Thinking about all of this, brings back memories of what Ana said when Roz and I returned safely from our crash landing with Charlie Tango and fire blazing from both engines. As we were going up the steps to the boathouse after our formal announcement of our engagement, Ana tells me that she wants to go to church because she had promised the Lord that if I came back safely, she would go to church. I told her, okay and made the commitment that I would go with her.

 Ana has fallen back to sleep.  I hear her softly breathing and her beautiful chest evenly moving up and down. I will let her sleep as long as she wants. As a matter of fact, Ana deserves some more “more” so I think I will try to make her breakfast and serve it to her in bed. I have never attempted it before but I can scramble eggs and I can read a pancake mix box and I can fry some sliced ham. A nice Saturday morning breakfast for my deserving fiancé. How did I get so lucky? We can discuss what church we will be going to tomorrow. After the life that I have lived, and somehow have still been able to have Ana in my life and all of the dedicated people around me in my companies and to have been blessed with such a tolerant family, I truly need to not only ask for forgiveness, but to show my gratitude for everything. Not one minute have I thought that I had done this on my own, even though I have worked hard to achieve what I do have, I have always realized that it was because of the Lord who gave me the where-with-all to be able to accomplish it. I have tried to share my wealth with others, but I really want to go to church with Ana, just to express how grateful I am before the alter.

Taylor, as usual, appears out of nowhere and stands at the door waiting for the day’s instructions. I tell Taylor that Ana and I are going to stay in today and that he can have the day off but I will need him tomorrow as Ana and I are going to church. Taylor’s usual impassive look is replaced with a mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised look that is quickly replaced with his usual impassive look. Sir, and then asks what time we would like to leave. I told him that I would text him later to let him know. Seeing the mess that I am creating, trying to prepare breakfast, Taylor politely asks, “Sir, is there anything that you would like for me to help you with?”   I start laughing and tell him, “thanks but no thanks, I’ve got this Taylor. Enjoy your day off”.

“I missed you”, Ana says as she puts her arms around my waist. “Ana”, I say surprised. “You are supposed to be in bed. I was going to bring my bride to be, breakfast in bed. Scoot, back to bed you go. Don’t deny me this. It is something that I want to do for you. As a matter of fact, I will join you. We have eggs, ham, pancakes and some fresh fruit that Gail cut up.”

 I roll the cart with our food into the bedroom, get her situated and crawl in bed  with her. This is really fun. I am beginning to enjoy “more” as much as Ana does. We start talking about the church that we intend to go to. Ana says that I should pick out the church since I am more familiar with Seattle than she is. I tell her that I heard Andrea and Olivia talking about this one church on Broadway in East Seattle. Seems as though they don’t cater to any one particular denomination, but they have an open door policy and are diversified, which is what I feel religion is all about. “There are going to be some surprised people in heaven when they find out that there is not a separated place for the Catholics and the Protestants, and all races are actually one”. Ana giggles and agrees with me. I tell her that I   heard that they are working on some type of project where they will feed people 3 times a day who are homeless or hungry for whatever reason. They are also trying to provide warm clothing for the less fortunate, but that is a work in progress.  Olivia said that children even go there to eat breakfast before they go to school. “We’ll go there, if it is okay with you”. She agreed and starts to take our trays from the bed. I thought that she was going to take them back to the kitchen but instead, she sets them on the cart and wriggles her way over to my side and starts snuggling. When I know anything, she has her hand in my pajama bottoms and starts to weave her magic. The rest, as they say, is history. Ana curls up next to me and we both doze off. We must have been really tired because when we wake up, it is to the ringing of Ana’s cell phone and it is 2 p.m. It’s the ball crusher calling to see if it is okay if she and Elliot come over for a casual visit. Ana tells her to hold on while she checks to see if I have anything scheduled. I tell her, “no, just to lie in bed doing the vanilla thing with you all afternoon”. She swats me and Kate must have heard me because she says that they can put it off until another time. Ana tells her that I was only being silly. I lay there and shake my head as if to say, like hell I am. She tells them to come on over around 3 and we could play cards or one of the video games or even shoot some pool. She hangs up and says that they are bringing over a couple of pizza’s and some Chinese. I say, “hell, are they planning on staying all afternoon and evening?” Ana laughs and said that it will be good to see them since it has been a couple of weeks. Time to get up, get showered and clean up the kitchen. I left it looking like there was a war zone so I will help Ana which she insists on doing and not leaving this mess for Gail.

Just as we finish up, my phone rings. It is Mia wanting to know if she and Ethan can come over for a visit, since they hadn’t seen us for what seems like forever. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Why the hell not? The ball crusher and Elliot have already ruined our day alone together. “Sure, come on over”, trying to sound sincere. “Kate and Elliot are coming over around 3 and they are bringing pizza and Chinese”. “Greaaat”, she says as only Mia can say it and make it sound like we have been invited to William and Kate’s private reception. “We will bring salad and dessert. We can make it a family party”. “That will be fine, Mia”. “Okay, 3 it is. We will see you then and thanks for inviting us”. “Sure!” Inviting them? What did I miss as I share the newest members on our party list with Ana. She giggles again at my comments. I love to hear her giggle. It lets me know how happy she is. That is my life’s goal, to make Ana as happy as she has made me.

The afternoon passes rather quickly and really, we have enjoyed our visitors. We tell them that we are going to church tomorrow before we go over to our parents’ for another Sunday brunch. Mia asks Ethan, excitedly, “Oooo can we go with them, please, please, please”? Without waiting for an answer, she continues, I haven’t been to church forever and I would really like to go. Elliot, why don’t you and Kate come with us? Would that be okay with you and Ana, Christian? It’s a public place, what   the hell am I suppose to say,  no, you can’t come with us. Jeez, sometimes I wonder about my baby sister. “Of course you can”, says Ana. “We just want to give thanks for bringing my fiancé home safely from the Charlie Tango fiasco”. “That’s cool, lil’ bro. We would be most happy to go with you guys”. “Okay with you, Ethan?”. Ethan, seeing Mia’s excitement didn’t have the heart to tell them no, even though he was planning on sleeping in tomorrow. “What church and where is it?” This reminds me that I have to text that info to Taylor. “Why don’t you guys meet us here”, I offer “and we can all go together. Taylor can take us in the big SUV. Plenty of room for all of us. If you can be here by 10:30, that will give us plenty of time to get there by 11:00”.

We walk them to the elevator and say our good-byes. We walk into Taylor’s office and watch them as they enter their respective vehicles and exit the garage safely. “It’s been a good day, Ana”. She agrees and snuggles under my arm. We walk into our bedroom, shed our clothes, crawl into our bed and say good night the only way we know how.

NEXT BLOG: No later than next Saturday. Have a great week and look forward to coming to church with the Grey/Steele/Kavanagh clan.

Christian and Ana: A Promise Fulfilled


Christian and Ana: A PROMISE FULFILLED

Ana and I are so used to getting up around the same time every morning, when we have a chance to sleep in a bit later, our bodies send us wake up “alarms”. We turn to face each other. I look at my beautiful, sleepy eyed angel and tell her “hi”. She snuggles up to me and says, “hi, back”. I gather her in my arms and we say a proper good morning to each other. I don’t care what anybody says, sometimes, plain old “vanilla” is just what the doctor ordered.

When we are both sated, we just lay cuddling with each other. “ Hungry?”, Ana asks me. I tell her that I can eat but we should start getting ready first with neither of us wanting to get up. We start talking about the new house and how we want to decorate it. Ana tells me that she wants to put in an elevator to the apartment above the massive garage for Gail and Taylor. Surprised that Ana wants to spend that kind of money, I say to my earth angel, “Well, well! You are finally getting used to the idea that you are going to be wealthy” “Not really”, she says, “I just want to make it convenient for Gail and Taylor”. “How thoughtful you are. Let’s talk to them about it. I had something else in mind but we will let them decide.

Time to get up lazy bones. We want to be ready when the ball crusher and company get here”. Ana starts laughing and crawls out of bed. Who’s showering first?”, she asks. I ask her why we can’t shower together, thinking that maybe we could have a quick breakfast appetizer. Ana looks at me and reads my mind. “I can’t help it, Ana. I just love you so much, I want all of you all of the time. I want to be as close to you as possible”. She looks at me with those beautiful eyes and says sweetly, “you, my precious 50, do not need to apologize to me at all. I want you just as much as you want me because I love you just as much as you love me. I am yours, Christian, whenever you want me. Don’t ever forget that”. “And I am yours, baby, forever and always. This is my pre-wedding promise to you.”

After a light breakfast, I pulled out what I had printed on some information on the church that we were going to attend this morning. I just knew that the ball crusher, and Mia, too, as far as that goes, were going to interrogate me as to how I managed to come up with this church. I told Ana that discovered that what I had heard was actually true. I read to Ana, the information that I had found on one of the search engines.

“Resulting from the convergence of the Pilgrim Congregational Church and the Seattle First Christian Church, the All Pilgrims Christian Church has a standing of its own today. The church is functioned and guided by the Coordinating Council and is involved with a number of community welfare programs. Distinguished by its diverse congregation of parishioners, the church reflects the diversity of the Capitol Hill area. The beautifully architectured interiors of the church are perfect to host weddings. Apart from the church office and the chapel, the church building also houses the Stuart Hall and the Dickson Room, which are used for the church meetings and congregational activities.”
“Oh Christian, that sounds like something you’d be interested in. So concerned about the less fortunate. That is just one of the reasons why I am so in love with you”, she says as she plants a chaste kiss on the corner of my lips. “You keep that up and we won’t make it to church”, I say with a hint of being serious. Suddenly, I find Ana’s arms around my neck, kissing me passionately. The front of my trousers quickly forms into a tent just as Taylor appears and informs us that our expected guests are here. I look at my watch. “Damn”. I say. It is just 10 after 10. I told them to be here at 10:30. “Anastasia”, I say trying to sound irritated, “Look what you’ve done”.
She starts to giggle as the tent in my pants slowly gets back to its normal non saluting self. “After brunch at my parents, we have some business to take care of”. Before my earth angel has a chance to respond, our guests enter, with my baby sister leading the charge in her excited mode.
“Hi Christian. Hi Ana. I am so excited. I told mom and dad and they are so happy that we are goingto church together. Taylor, are you going in with us?” Yes, ma’m, Taylor says with his usual impassive look. “Oh, goody, you can sit next to Ethan and me.” “No, ma’m. Sawyer, Ryan and I will be in the back, ma’m.”
He looks at me and informs me that he and the security team will be taking separate vehicles. He will be driving us and the other two will follow. I give him my nod of approval. “Since we will all be away, I had Welch send over a security guard from Grey House. GEH is still adequately protected, sir. “That’s fine, Taylor. Thank you.”
As expected, Kate goes into her investigative reporter mode and starts with the expected inquisition. I provide her with the information that I have obtained and that seems to satisfy her curiosity…..for now anyway. I swear, someday, that woman is going to win the Pulitzer Prize for the top and best Investigative Reporter, EVER! Poor Lelliot sure has his hands full with this one. I am beginning to become more tolerant of her though.
Ana has shared with me how they became so close. Seems as though she and Kate were getting in line to get their room assignments. Ana, being typical Ana, somehow, tripped over air. She went one way, her books went another way and she managed to bump into Kate and her computer, which luckily was protected by a pretty good padded bag, and everybody and everything, ended up landing in a heap on the floor.
Those who saw the commotion started snickering, trying to keep from all out laughing. I can only imagine what the two of them looked like. Anyway, Kate very graciously retrieved her composure, got up and assisted Ana in getting up. They both went about the task of picking up everything that had ended up on the floor with them.
When the task was completed, Kate started giving everyone that “crack a smile and I promise, I will play twist and shout with your balls and tits” look. Ana said they must have gotten the message because everyone pretended they didn’t even see us. There was this one exception, though.
This handsome young man, by the name of Jose, came over and made sure that we were ok and all of our body parts were where they should be. He offered his assistance by taking the ball crusher’s laptop and some of her books. When it was their turn to be assigned a room, they were asked if they had a preference of a roommate. Before Ana, could answer, Kate spoke up and said, “Yes. We are together.” Ana didn’t know what to say so she said nothing and thought, this is going to be interesting. We don’t even know each other; however, she got the feeling that she had known Kate forever.
After they got their room assignments and took their things to deposit them, Jose suggested they get some lunch and walk around campus to become familiar with the buildings where their classes would be. She and Kate were taking the same major. Jose was majoring in Engineering. During lunch, Kate told Ana that she really was glad that “we are roommates.” What she didn’t say was that she felt as though Ana needed to be protected and she was volunteering for the job. At least this is what she shared with Elliot. The three of them became inseparable and the rest is history. It just makes me feel closer to Kate, knowing that she, too, loves Ana.


As we head down the elevator, Elliot asks me, “What have you done now, lil’ bro?” I look at him and ask him what he meant? “The paparazzi is hanging around like vultures circling some half dead prey.” “Got engaged, I guess. Do they really need a reason other than working the hell out of my nerves?” I retort. “Oh well” says Elliot, “They have to make a living too.” “Yea, but at whose expense.” “Come on, bro’….at what price glory?” I tell Elliot to drop it and they all start laughing.
I hear Taylor radio Sawyer and Ryan and let them know that we are probably going to be followed by the paparazzi and “don’t try to lose them. We will cooperate, as long as they don’t go into attack mode.”
I hear Taylor’s conversation and commands and wonder how on earth did I luck up and get Taylor and Ana, and the family that I have? Another reason why I need to lay my gratitude at the altar.

As Taylor pulls in front of the All Pilgrims Christian Church, the paparazzi leave their vehicles in the street and jump out with camera’s flashing. Ana and I exit the vehicle first so that the others have a chance to get into the church without being bombarded.
I give them a wave and a smile as they barrage me with questions. By this time, Sawyer and Ryan, flank Ana on one side and me on the other and hustle us into the church. The church ushers stop the paparazzi from entering with their cameras. This group seems to be somewhat considerate and is satisfied with the pictures that they have obtained of Ana and me.
The others are waiting just inside the doors for us. As we walk in and are ushered to our seats, nobody pays any attention to us and are as friendly to us as they are to everyone. I feel lucky that we got there early enough to be seated together.
The church fills up quickly and the choir fills the choir stand as the musicians start playing. The music fills the large sanctuary with beautiful melodious sounds and the choir starts singing a “welcome song”. I gather that the name of it is, Welcome into this place. Whatever it is, it is beautiful. As I listen to the well rehearsed music, I get an idea. I will discuss it with Elliot and Mia later.

The minister seems genuine and sincere as he preaches about how we will always have the poor among us which is a direct quote from Jesus when he was telling the disciples that they would not always have him. He then recites what Mother Teresa said once:

“If you can’t feed a hundred people, then feed just one. … Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces … Each one of them is Jesus in disguise”.
It is my understanding that this is just what this church is trying to do and I feel moved to assist them with their mission.

After services are over, I tell the others to go with Taylor to pick up their vehicles and Ana and I will meet them over to mom and dad’s in about 30 minutes. Without question, they pile into the larger SUV. The paparazzi is still hanging around and are so busy looking for Ana and me that they don’t even see the others as they hustle away with Taylor.

The pastor is greeting the members and guests as they exit, while Ana and I hang back. When everyone is out of the sanctuary, we walk up to him and I introduce Ana and myself to him. We shake hands and he says that he is very happy that we chose his church to attend on this beautiful Lord’s Day.
I thank him and let him know how much we enjoyed the services. “Your sermon really touched me and I would like to make a sizable donation to your efforts of feeding the hungry.” I then ask him if he will accept it. He reaches to shake my hand again and tells me that they can always use help in feeding the masses, as many as they can.
He invites us into the office. I explain to him that the reason why I am doing this, is that I have been very blessed and I want to show my gratitude, thinking about not only the wonderful people in my life but Charlie Tango as well.
I ask him if he can show us where he feeds the people. He ushers us to the feeding area which is very nice but could use some updating with state of the art equipment, more like our kitchen is going to be in the new house. That would probably cost between 10 and 20 thousand dollars, but I say nothing.
We go back to his office and I pull out my checkbook from the inside of my suit jacket. I ask him if he will please write down what I am going to request, if he would so approve. He readily agrees.
The first thing that I ask is that the kitchen be updated with state of the art equipment. The next thing that I ask is that he purchases a brand new church bus that will seat 40-50 people so that he can pick up people to bring them to have their meals.The last thing that I am going to request is that he put two plaques somewhere in the eating area and one on the bus. I then tell him how I would like for them to read: “ IN MEMORY OF MY LOVING MOTHER, ELLA”. The other, “IN HONOR OF MY LOVING PARENTS DR. GRACE TREVELYAN GREY AND ATTORNEY CARRICK GREY. I would like for them to be in solid gold. There should be at the very least, 100 empty plates so that anyone who wants to honor the memory of loved ones, can purchase a plate for an agreed amount from the Trustees, although this should be left up to the donor as to how much they want to donate.
The minister, by now, is sitting with his face set in a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me, expression’. I glance over at Ana and she is shedding tears, fighting to keep from letting out sobs. I take her hand and give it a squeeze.
I continue the list with Ana’s mom and Ray under the “In Honor Of” column. I then proceed to write out a check for 2 million dollars. Spend whatever you need to feed as many as you possibly can. Every year, you can expect this amount from GEH, which is my company, for the next 5 years. It will arrive on my mother’s birthday every year.
At the conclusion of the five year period, I will have my grant writers write a grant for you to be able to continue with the works that you have started. Oh, one more thing. I would like to have the kitchen open seven days a week, 365 days a year from 7 in the morning until 7 at night. You are going to have to staff it with the employees that you choose from the homeless people in and around the Seattle area. Most of them will have to be trained. I will have my training company get in touch with you this week. You are going to need six bus drivers, and 2 secretaries. All of the employees will be paid $25 dollars an hour with double time on Saturdays and triple time on Sundays and holidays. They will also receive full benefits and starting with this year, they will receive a sizable bonus at Christmas. On holidays, they will work three hour shifts so that their holidays are not tied up working unless they chose to do so. The cooks and servers will work the same hours. In addition, all of your employees will have full insurance coverage which will be in addition to their salaries.
Here is my card. The one secretary will manage the entire operation, and will report only to you. The other secretary will report to my personal assistant, Andrea and will be responsible for getting all time sheets to her. You will receive the paychecks weekly on Mondays at first and then we will see about changing that to a Friday. People have a tendency to come to work on Monday’s if they don’t get paid until then. I will let you know about the vacation days later. I will also supply you with 2 new Audi SUV’s, insured in the church’s name so that everyone, when they obtain their driver’s licenses, will be able to run errands as you deem necessary.. You or whomever you designate will be responsible for all funds. Oh, and you will receive a salary for being the overseer.
You will also be in charge of finding someone to try to place as many people as possible in jobs. I don’t want anyone to earn any less than $18 dollars an hour. Start with my companies first. I will have Andrea send you a list. I want everyone who wants to work, to be able to do so.
The last thing that I am going to request is that you sign a NDA which is a non disclosure agreement. No one is to know who is responsible for this. No publicity what so ever. Will you agree to this, pastor?
The pastor chuckles and says, “Only a fool would not. Yes sir, Mr. Grey, you have my word”. Okay, then. I will have the documents sent over by courier tomorrow morning. Our business here is concluded. Thank you for accepting my offer.”
The minister rises and says to Christian, “God bless you sir and thank you ever so much.” I smile and say to him, “He already has, sir. Good day to you.”

As we walk out to our vehicles from having a really relaxing time at my parent’s luncheon, I take my angel’s hand and say, “It’s been a good day, Anastasia…It’s been a good day.”

Anastasia’s Mom’s #3 Husband

“Ana, where in the world does the time go? The holidays are upon us. By the way, mom and dad always wants everyone to spend Thanksgiving with them. Mom makes a real big deal out of holidays, especially Thanksgiving. They have the entire family over as well as staff and everyone else who she can drag in. She says that if staff breaks bread with us, they bond and feel more like a part of the family rather than servants and everyone gets to know each other, which is always good. That means Gail, Taylor, Sawyer and Ryan will be coming. We will get Welsh to supply security for the penthouse. Okay?”

Anastasia is staring into the blazing fire like she has not heard a word that Christian has said. “Ana, what’s wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost”. Ana looks at Christian with tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Christian”, she sobs as he gathers her in his arms and pulls her onto his lap. “Baby, tell me what is wrong.” Ana quiets her sobbing and tells him that she has something that she wants to share with him. “I’m listening, baby. What is it?”

Ana starts talking. “You have not heard me say too much about mom’s husband #3 but I know that you have wanted to ask me about him.” Christian thinks quietly to himself that if that bastard has done something to hurt Ana, I will fucking find him and fucking kill his ass. “Yes, but I figured that something must have happened that you found painful to talk about and when you got ready, you would talk about it.” Ana remains quiet for a few minutes, trying to control her emotions which she is having a hard time doing.

Gail is working quietly in the kitchen, preparing some of the food to take over to Dr. Grey’s for the Thanksgiving feast next week. She can’t help but overhear the conversation between Christian and Ana. At first, with Ana sobbing, she thought that Christian had said something to upset her. She listens more closely as Ana continues.
“I never did like him,” Ana continues. “He always stared at me like I had two heads. He used to tell me that I was the ugliest thing that he ever saw. He would always ask me how in the world did I ever expect to get a husband looking the way I looked. I would go into my bedroom and just cry until I got sick. I never said anything to mom about it but I did ask her all of the time, why I couldn’t be pretty like her. Being my mother, she always told me that I was prettier than she was and I would even get prettier as I matured into a young woman.
One day, husband #3 came, uninvited, into my bedroom. He said that he decided to fuck me and that would make me look better.” Christian’s body tightened and Gail clasped her hands over her mouth to stave back a gasp. Ana continued. “He started to wrestle with me to get my clothes off but I fought him as hard as I could and bit his hand hard enough to make him let go of me. I ran out of my room before he could catch me, all of the while, he is calling for me to ‘get back here, you little bitch. I’m going to fuck the ugly out of you’. Mom had to run an errand and was just turning the corner as I ran out of the house. She didn’t see the haste, only that I was standing out on the porch as she pulled into the drive-way. ‘Where ya’ going, sweetheart?’ I told her that I had to take my friend’s homework notes to her as she forgot and left them in my room. Mom gave me a nod and told me not to be late for supper. I ran down the steps before she could see my tears.

I knew that I had to get away from that son-of-a-bitch. I called Ray later that evening when mom and #3 went out to a movie. The only thing that I shared with him was that I couldn’t stay with mom’s husband #3 because he was always complaining about me and was always being critical of me. Ray readily agreed to come get me right then. I told him that I had to check with mom and try to make her realize how unhappy that I was. Ray told me to call him as soon as I was ready. Ray figured something had happened but didn’t push the issue.”
“It would be nice to have someone else in the house with me to look after and who I could teach things to” is the way he explained to Christian the reason how Ana came to live with him. “We had always had a bond, but her mom was against Ana leaving her.”

“I convinced mom that I was not happy and to please, please, let me go and live with Ray. He was the only father that I knew and he would take care of me. She finally let me go. Every year, around this time, which is when it happened, I re-live it. I kept all of that crap in me until now, only sharing it with mom and Ray. It all came back to me when you started talking about the Thanksgiving gathering. That’s one reason why Dr. Flynn wants to talk to me about my insecurity and low self-esteem issues.

I was always ashamed of the way that I looked and why I thought that I was not pretty. When you kept telling me how pretty I was and what a delicious looking body that I had. I thought you were just trying to be nice to make me feel better about myself. Kate used to tell me the same thing. It is hard to shed that type of self-image when you have been told so many times how ugly that you are.

“Our first Thanksgiving together was, shall I say, challenging. I was just learning how to cook and Ray couldn’t help a bit. All we did was ate carryout and that grew old real quick so I really didn’t have a choice. Ray bought a turkey and some other stuff that I had no idea how to cook. The Monday before Thanksgiving, he came home with a package for me. I opened it and to my surprise, it was a ‘Cookbook for Beginners’. I laughed and asked him why he hadn’t gotten one for himself? He started laughing and said that he would rather fish than eat. We did manage to get through it with the turkey that was drier than dry, lumpy mashed potatoes with gravy that tasted like paste and the green bean casserole with half cooked green beans. Looking back, I realized just how good it was for me to have been there with Ray to keep him from starving to death. That was a Thanksgiving that will never be forgotten,” I chuckled.

Contining my account to Christian, and even though I didn’t realize it, to Gail as well. “I turned on the news one day while getting ready for school and there on the screen was, big as life, husband #3’s picture. The news anchor was interviewing some of the neighbors who lived on mom’s street. It seemed as though, there was a serial child molester that had been on the loose for several months but every child he had attempted to rape, was able to claw and get away from him. They finally caught him from DNA samples from under the girls’ fingernails, when the young girl had identified him as the man who had tried to attack her. He was so brazen that he had gone to the park one day to scout out his next would be victim. The young girl happened to be there, saw him, ran from the park like her life depended upon it, screaming at her mom to call the police as she almost tore down the door. She and her mom met the police at the park and they arrested husband #3. By the time the news had finished the story, my body had turned to mush as I dropped to the floor in a dead faint.”

Ray found me on the kitchen floor and called the rescue squad and then called my mom. Mom caught the first thing smoking headed to California. She was booked on an emergency flight and was at the hospital in a matter of hours.

I was examined and it was determined that my system had just had a stressful and shocking episode….other than that, I was just fine. “When the doctor left, mom asked me if I had seen the news. I told her that I had and then started crying uncontrollably. Poor Ray didn’t know what to think. He and mom just looked at each other, dazed. When I finally was able to control myself, the entire story came about what #3 had said and tried to do to me.

“Mom passed out colder than a frosty morn but dear Ray saw what was happening and grabbed her to keep her from falling to the floor. I pulled my ‘need help’ cord and the nurse came rushing in. She called for a cart, and rushed her to the ER. Ray pushed me in a wheelchair following her. When she finally came around, she had a wild look in her eyes and was talking incoherently. They took her straight to the psych ward where she stayed for about a week. After they treated her for a temporary emotional breakdown, she was released. Ray insisted that she come stay with us until she came to grips with what had happened. After about 2 months, she was able to return home.

Ray did some investigating and discovered that #3 had been tried, convicted and sent to the penitentiary for 25 years with no possibility of parole. It seems as though several of the other would be victims came forth with their testimony.”

Christian thought as he held Ana, another fucking asshole of off the streets. Good. I hope the bastard rots there. From what I hear, that they do to child molesters as well as wannabe’s, he better not bend down to pick up the soap in the shower.

Gail finds herself shedding tears as she makes the dough for the pie crusts and cuts up the vegetables for the stuffing. How could that bastard do that to such a sweet child? I probably shouldn’t but I feel like I must share this with Taylor. Christian walks in the kitchen, surprised to see me, sees the tears and asks me gently if I “heard”. All I could do was nod my head in the affirmative. “I am getting Ana a glass of wine….would you like for me to pour you a glass?” I tell him no thanks and he gets 2 glasses out of the cupboard, pours Ana’s wine and fills the other with orange juice and takes two Advil out of the bottle and places them on the counter for me. “Don’t fret, Gail. Ana is going to be just fine. She has all of us to take care of her.” “Thank you, Mr. Grey.” Gail remembers what Taylor said about the boss being so kind to those whom he cares for.

After Christian gets Ana settled down, Taylor hears the boss on the speaker phone giving Welch hell. “I don’t give a fuck if it is a holiday. I pay them enough money to make it worthwhile to secure this place for a few hours.” Welch tells the boss that he would get the only security guard left because all of the rest are securing his other interests. There is just one problem though….he has a family and would it be okay if he brought them with him. “I don’t give a fuck as long as they don’t tear up the place he yells and yes, they can use the pool table and play the video games. They can eat here as well. I will have Gail prepare a meal for them unless his wife wants to prepare it. Call and let Taylor know so that he can inform Gail as to what is going on.”

I swear, Taylor thinks as he hears Mount Baker, Glacier Peak, Mount Rainier, Mount St. Helens, and Mount Adams erupt at the same time. How in the hell does that bastard go from zero to ruthless son-of-a-bitch in .o5 seconds and then right back down again? I heard Ana refer to him as Mr. Mercurial once. I think that he gives new meaning to that word. Really, though, I think that he is upset about something entirely removed from this security issue. I will talk to Gail later and see if she knows anything.

He then calls Andrea and tells her to make the arrangements for the corporate jet and Charlie Tango to be available for use on Wednesday to pick up Anastasia’s family and to return them on Saturday. Both of the aircrafts will need pilots. If there is a problem, solve it and get back to me with the details. Thanks. Click-up goes the phone. Taylor has to chuckle as he says to himself, “rude bastard”.
I inform Sawyer and Ryan to be prepared for pick up at the airport for Ana’s parents on Wednesday. Charlie Tango will set down on Escala, as usual.

Grey goes back into the great room where Ana and Gail are in deep conversation. Gail informs them that lunch will be ready in about 20 minutes and Ana thanks her. “By the way, Christian, the plan for Thanksgiving is just fine. I am really looking forward to it, and thanks for including my family. Another reason why I love you so much”, I say as I plant a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s go eat before all of Gail’s food is for naught” as he looks at me with that wantonly look that I have become so familiar with. You know….the one that makes me quiver all the way down south, I say to my subconscious.” Oh, brother, my inner goddess makes a b-line to the bedroom where she has to wait patiently which is going to make her stand in the corner on her head to cool down.