Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           “So,didyoucatchtheMarinersgame,Dad?”Elliot’sclearlykeentomovetheconversationon.

           Thehorsd’oeuvresaredelicious,andIconcentrateoneatingwhileElliot,Mr.Grey,andChristiantalkbaseball.Christianseemsrelaxedandcalmtalkingtohisfamily.Mymindisworkingfuriously.DamnKate,whatgameissheplaying?Willhepunishme?Iquailatthethought.Ihaven’tsignedthatcontractyet.PerhapsIwon’t.PerhapsI’llstayinGeorgiawherehecan’treachme.

           “Howareyousettlingintoyournewapartment,dear?”Graceaskspolitely.

           I’mgratefulforherquestion,distractingmefrommydiscordantthoughts,andItellheraboutourmove.

           Aswefinishourstarters,Gretchenappears,andnotforthefirsttime,IwishIfeltabletoputmyhandsfreelyonChristianjusttoletherknow—hemaybefiftyshadesoffuckedup,buthe’smine.Sheproceedstoclearthetable,brushingrathertoocloselytoChristianformyliking.Fortunately,heseemsoblivioustoher,butmyinnergoddessissmolderingandnotinagoodway.

           KateandMiaarewaxinglyricalaboutParis.

           “HaveyoubeentoParis,Ana?”Miaasksinnocently,distractingmefrommyjealousreverie.

           “No,butI’dlovetogo.”IknowI’mtheonlyoneatthetablewhohasneverlefttheUSA.

           “WehoneymoonedinParis.”GracesmilesatMr.Grey,whogrinsbackather.

           It’salmostembarrassingtowitness.Theyobviouslyloveeachotherdeeply,andIwonderforabriefmomentwhatitmustbeliketogrowupwithbothone’sparentsinsitu.

           “It’sabeautifulcity,”Miaagrees.“InspiteoftheParisians.