Chapter Twenty
Two months later... Mid-August 2017
I'm barely out of the car after working at the bookstore when Christian strides up to me and grabs my hand, practically pulling me toward the building site. I have to jog a couple of steps to catch up to him, or else risk falling face-first into the gravel.
"Keep your pants on, Grey," I say in a half-giggle, half-growl. Or don't keep them on... whatever.
He ignores me and continues to pull me up the short slope, only stopping when we are in full view of the new house. The new house. And I realize why he was in such a rush to show it to me. It finally looks like a house... not a pile of stone and timbers. The actual structure of it, as was explained to me, is an oak timber frame. And today, for the first time, it's standing tall and proud.
I notice that the workers' trucks are all gone, the worksite quiet. Usually, they take advantage of every bit of the long summer days. "Where is everyone?" I ask.
"Elsewhere. Come," he says, and tugs me forward again, over the rutted ground and up the stone front steps, stepping into what will be the entryway.
I notice a small pile of curly wood shavings at my feet and look up. Freshly carved into the lintel is a bold 2017. "Oh wow... 2017" is all I can manage, as I take a look around me.
The great room, with its huge stone fireplace opens to our left. To our right is a smaller room, which could be a dining room or an office, and beyond that will be the kitchen. The open stairway will be directly in front of us, but it's not even roughed in yet. Only the beams are in place, giving suggestions of what is to come.
"Yes, 2017, the year this house - and we - were established," he says softly, stepping up behind me and pulling me in close.
This summer has been perfect - amazing. We've been able to spend long evenings talking, having deep conversations about ourselves, our pasts, our hopes for the future. Sometimes it's just sipping beers while poring over house plans or searching online for our next race. And sometimes we're faced with more difficult topics, ones that dredge up old feelings. Just last week, I received notification that my divorce from Jose was final. He is still in Panama, awaiting sentencing, but legally I am freed of him. I hadn't felt married to him for a long time - if ever - but knowing that bond was broken lifted a weight I hadn't even realized was there.
He leads me further into the house and there, hanging from a high peg, is a long piece of thin twine. He takes the free end of the twine and loops it around the fourth finger of my left... oh God.
"Anastasia," he says, while tying the twine in a perfect knot around my finger, "you are my past and my present. And I want us to look forward, into the future, as one."
He looks up at me after he finishes tying the knot, and I can only nod, wiping my eyes with my free hand.
"I know that, officially, we've only been together for a few months, but I know - and I hope you feel it too - that we're meant to be. Will you marry me?"
I nod again, and I can feel the tears as they stream down my cheeks.
He leans in and kisses me softly. "Let me hear you, baby. Tell me you'll marry me."
"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you," I manage to squeak out.
With this, he leans away from me and tugs firmly on the twine. Something shiny - something that's sparking in the setting sun - slides down the twine and lands perfectly on my finger.
I squeal with delight, examining the ring as he unties the twine, not just because the ring is gorgeous, but because it's from him and it means forever. The man I love, the man that I've always loved. I reach up and pull him in for a kiss, deepening it to express how much I love him. "I love you so much," I say, finally pulling away.
"And I love you."
"It's SO beautiful," I say, turning around in a circle, talking about the ring, the house... our future. The oak beams are arching above us, golden in the early-evening light. "I wish we could just get married right here... just as it is right now. Simple and perfect."
Christian considers this for a moment. "Why can't we?"
"Because by the time we get married, it'll be all closed in and it won't be the same," I sigh.
"Not if we do it soon..." Uh oh, I can see the wheels turning now. He starts to pace back and forth, examining the space. "Cal hosts a back-to-school barbecue for the staff, and it's always the weekend between the initial staff meeting and when school starts, so people will already have the date on their calendars."
"Christian, that's three weeks away."
"I know... but like you said, with the exposed beams... and the light is perfect. I don't think anyone would bat an eye if we host the barbeque. A christening of the new house?"
"You mean, like... it'll be a surprise?"
"Exactly and - like you said - just have it be simple. Like "Everyone gathers round... we say our vows... now 'let's chow down.'"
I'm trying to keep a straight face. After all, his idea is crazy. It's CRAZY. "It's crazy... but I love it," I finally say, no longer able to hide my grin. "And I love you. But do we have to say 'chow down'?"
"Whatever you want, baby."
Hmmm... I walk around, looking at the space with new eyes. The fireplace makes a natural altar, flowers on the beams, candles... Yes, it's perfect.
"But don't you need to start installing the insulated panels soon?"
"We can hold off on that, work on putting in the concrete for the pathway and patio. It'll be nice to have for the wedding anyway."
I smile at his emphasis on the word wedding. I can't help it... I'm a goner!
"I'm gonna call my dad and Kate. Omigosh..." I squeal. "My dad can give me away, and Kate can stand up with me."
"And I'll call Cal and my family."
"But they'll be the only ones who know?"
"Yep, everyone else will get an invitation to the school year kick-off barbecue."
Oh... yes. It's us, doing it our way and at our own pace. It's perfect.
=/=/=/=
The following week, Christian takes me over to the school so that I can take stock of what's there and plan the space. After unlocking the classroom door for me, he heads to his office to do some work.
The room is clean with shining linoleum floors and what looks like fresh paint on the walls, but it's lifeless and bare. There's a teacher's desk and rows of student desks, a pencil sharpener and a wastebasket, but that's all. Long bookshelves line the wall beneath the windows, but they're empty, as are the desk drawers.
Just as I'm shutting the last drawer, I hear a voice from the doorway. "Hello? I thought I heard someone in here. I'm Colleen Flynn? I teach English composition."
I look up and it's a woman with curly auburn hair. She looks to be in her mid-thirties... about Christian's age.
"Oh, hi there, please come in," I say, meeting her halfway to shake her hand, while tucking my left hand in my pocket. I'm not ready to answer that question yet. "I'm Ana Steele... I'm new, but you already knew that. Um, English lit?"
"Aha... Ty's replacement. So how's it going? This room is... all right," she says, eyeing the bare bulletin boards, evidence of the previous occupant apparent from bits of tape and staples.
"Um... I'm just trying to make a list of what I'll need. So... I'm teaching literature and there aren't any books in here. Do you know if they are in storage somewhere?"
She purses her lips as if she doesn't know how much to tell me. "So Ty was a little... different in how he taught literature. He mostly taught from the textbook? I think that's in storage. I can show you."
"The textbook?" And I can imagine what it's like, with its sample excerpts and canned opinions. "Why not teach from the actual... books?"
"I think you can make the class as you like it... as long as you follow the basic rubric of requirements."
I had looked over the rubric and it was very loosely defined... 'Expose students to elements of English literature...' and so on. There weren't even any suggestions of what should be read, as long as it allowed for a 'broad scope of the subject matter.'
"Hmmm. Yes, I definitely have some ideas, but... the question is how to get the books. I mean even six books times twenty-four students..."
"You have a budget for supplies... but yeah, I'm pretty sure the collection of books is supposed to build on itself year to year."
"Well I'll just have to get creative... starting with these bulletin boards... within two weeks," I laugh, leaning against my desk. And plan a surprise wedding... Oh boy. What was I thinking?
=/=/=/=
"So if the students already have iPads assigned to them..." I say as I pace back and forth across our small living area. "A lot of the classics are available in an electronic format for free... so that will take care of a chunk of what we need."
Pace... pace... Christian is sitting on the couch, calmly watching me and nursing a beer while I rant.
"But I want them to be able to get their hands on at least a few real books. SO. I have $250 plus I can throw in some of the money I got from Wanda... she was a fan of classic literature. And I have my employee discount. So I'll see what I can find by scouring the used bookstores here on the east side... and go from there. And get all the stuff for the wedding... and the barbecue. It'll be fine!" I say, as if saying it out loud will make it true. Now that I have a solution, no matter how far-fetched, I finally stop pacing.
"So. You have a plan... used bookstores, huh?" Christian asks, then pats his lap, signaling me to come sit down already.
"Yeah, you wanna come?"
"Mmmm..." is all he says as I grind against him, feeling him harden beneath me.
Oh I think we're both gonna come.
=/=/=/=
"This is the one, Kate," I say, and I can feel my eyes misting up. "This is my dress."
This is it. It's a short-sleeved, ivory lace dress that hugs what curves I have and falls just above the knee. The lace is stretchy, a floral pattern over an solid base layer in the same ivory color.
I've been searching stores in downtown Seattle... without knowing exactly what I was looking for. I wanted something that says 'bride' when it needs to and 'barbecue' when it doesn't.
Kate has been a champ all day, going with me to store after store. She stopped asking 'what are you looking for?' after about the fifth time I answered, 'I'll know it when I see it.'
We've been talking and laughing non-stop, and we may have even gotten tipsy over a few Cosmos last night. I stayed with her in her hip, downtown condo and it was just like old times - glossy magazines, pedicures, and all.
=/=/=/=
I scrutinize myself in the mirror one last time, smiling at my navy and gold Bellevue Wolverines staff shirt. It looks like team jersey with my last name - Steele - across the back. It seems like a bit of a waste, but I can't exactly show up to the staff meeting with one saying Grey, can I?
Christian comes in, dressed in a navy polo emblazoned with the school crest and khaki pants. He looks me up and down, then comes over and stands behind me, placing his hands on my hips.
"Should I take off my ring for today?" I ask, reaching to twist it from my finger. "I mean, are we telling people about us?"
"No. Don't take it off." He covers my left hand with his, and pushes away my other hand. "I'll handle it. I want everyone to know you're mine."
"I'm yours. And you're mine."
"Good girl." He traces the letters of my name on my shirt and says in a husky voice, "And don't take this off when we get home."
"Why is that, Mr. Grey?" I ask.
"Because I'm gonna fuck you in this staff shirt," he says.
And then, without warning, he releases me and is gone as quickly as he arrived. "You want a coffee to go?" He calls over his shoulder.
"Um, sure?" I call after him, still breathless from his attentions. Man, he can change gears quickly!
Christian drives us to the school and parks in his designated space, which is just around the corner from the front doors. He needs to arrive earlier than I do, so he gives me a quick kiss before getting out and heading inside.
With about twenty minutes to kill, I pull my dog-eared copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird" out of my shoulder bag. I'm considering it as the first book for the fall semester in my American Literature class.
Finally, at five minutes to eight, it's time to head inside. I get out and lock the doors to Christian's car, fling my bag over one shoulder, and walk toward the entrance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two female staff members coming from the opposite direction, and it's obvious that our paths are going to intersect.
I give them a little smile as we head toward the doors together.
"Hello there, are you new?" One of them asks me. She is about blonde and probably mid-fifties, with an athletic build and a friendly smile. The other woman looks a little younger, with dark hair and eyes.
I nod. "Um, yes... Ana Steele? English lit... and I'll also be coaching girls' cross-country and track?"
"Ah, the track star," she says as we walk down the hallway toward the library. "We've been hearing some impressive things about you. I'm Kathy Taylor, chemistry. And this is Laura Sanders, math.
The second woman gives me a nod, "So nice time to meet you," and then opens the door to the library, holding it open for Kathy and me to enter.
Several other teachers and staff have already arrived, and are standing in small groups or finding places to sit. There are several round tables in the room, with one longer one at the front. Christian is standing behind the front table, conversing with two other men. I recognize one of them as Cal Hobbes, the principal.
Cal introduces the new staff members, saving me for last. There's a nervous-looking band director who looks like he's about seventeen, and a new library aide who could be his grandmother.
"And taking over English Literature, we have Anastasia Steele. Ana, please stand." I do and he continues. "She will also be our girls' cross-country and track coach. She has an impressive record in the sport and I hope you all will make her feel at home. And also, I believe that Coach would like to say a few words."
I smirk at his use of the familiar title. He's never going to outgrow it, no matter how important he gets.
Christian stands and clears his throat. He's wringing his hands together... he looks nervous! "On a more personal note, Ms Ana Steele and I are engaged."
A collection of gasps and whispered exchanges fills the room, and I can't help but notice a few who can't hide their disappointment. I can only imagine that Coach Grey - no doubt the Adonis of Bellevue High - has been a hot item of affection.
He calmly waits for the room to settle before continuing. "Anyway... we plan to be married in the near future. Also, many of you know that I broke ground on what is now - our - new house over the summer. The frame is up, and Cal has graciously allowed us to host this year's kick-off barbecue. It will be - as usual - this Saturday evening at six o'clock. I hope to see you all there."
He gives a little nod and sits, and I sink gratefully into my chair. Whew! The meeting moves on to safer topics... the calendar, the remodeled restrooms, changes in arrivals and dismissals for the new school year. I can feel more than one set of eyes on me - checking out the ring on my finger - as I make little notes on my printed copy, letting my heart rate slowly return to normal. Sorry ladies... he's taken! And he's all mine.