Happy Thursday, Persephoneers! Let’s get started with the recap of Fifty Shades of Grey, Chapter Twenty-two. When we last left Ana, she was visiting her mother and trying to reevaluate her relationship with Christian. Her mom has been offering some advice to her, but we all know that Ana won’t follow it because she’s…well, she’s really old school. She lets Christian dictate everything that goes on in their relationship, and it’s starting to look like a train wreck. So let’s continue gawking at it.
What really alarms me is how you knew which flight I was on….Your stalking knows no bounds. Let’s hope that Dr. Flynn is back from vacation.
Let’s hope that you decide to stay in Georgia, Ana.
I have had a manicure, a back massage, and two glasses of champagne ““ a very nice start to my vacation.
If I’d been in the ordinary departure lounge then Jean-Paul wouldn’t have gotten his hands on me. He was a very nice young man, in a blond, perma-tanned way ““ honestly, who has a tan in Seattle? It’s just so wrong. I think he was gay ““ but I’ll just keep that detail to myself.
Ana, I don’t think you have a good gaydar. Don’t even try. There just seems to be a lot of smug slight homophobia in this book, doesn’t there?
Next time you’ll be in the cargo hold, bound and gagged in a crate. Believe me when I say that attending to you in that state will give me so much more pleasure than merely upgrading your ticket.
That’s not even legal. As a matter of fact, that’s kidnapping and this guy is nuts.
I put my BlackBerry away, sit back while the plane taxis to the runway, and pull out my tattered copy of Tess ““ some light reading for the journey.
Tess of the d’Urbervilles is not light reading! Try some Jacqueline Susann instead! Or better yet, Bryn Donovan or Lucy Woodhull!
‘Welcome back, Ana. Why you cryin’?’ he asks.
‘Aw, Bob, I’m just pleased to see you, too.’ I stare up into his handsome square-jawed face, and his twinkling blue eyes that gaze at me fondly. I like this husband, Mom. You can keep him. He takes my backpack.
Ana, your love life is screwed up enough as it is. Don’t tell your mom how to live hers, though it’s nice you like her husband.
‘Men aren’t really complicated, Ana, honey. They are very simple, literal creatures. They usually mean what they say. And we spend hours trying to analyze what they’ve said ““ when really it’s obvious. If I were you, I’d take him literally. That might help.’
After a light lunch back at the house, I start to unpack. I am going to treat myself to a siesta. My mother has disappeared to mold some candles or whatever she does with them, and Bob is at work, so I have time to catch up on some sleep.
Psst…Ana, you really don’t want to know what she does with them. You’d be shocked and horrified.
I don’t know how to answer your comment about feeling like a whore”¦.I’d like you to have the best of everything. I work exceptionally hard, so I can spend my money as I see fit. I could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and I want to. Call it redistribution of wealth, if you will”¦.For such a bright, witty, beautiful young woman you have some real self-esteem issues, and I have a half a mind to make an appointment for you with Dr. Flynn.
Aha…sign of abuse right here! He tells her she has “self-esteem issues.” Stay in Georgia, please, Ana. And Christian sure seems to believe in that trickle-down economics theory! Spending money on the girl you’re fucking doesn’t make it a redistribution of wealth.
You worry about not being submissive. Well maybe that’s true. Having said that, the only time you do assume the correct demeanor for a sub is in the playroom. It seems that’s the one place where you let me exercise proper control over you, and the only place you do as you’re told. Exemplary is the term that comes to mind. And I’d never beat you black and blue. I aim for pink.
Oh, really! Isn’t that nice to know?
My heart is in my mouth as I reread his epistle, and I huddle on the spare bed practically hugging my Mac. Make our agreement a year? I have the power! Jeez, I’m going to have to think about that. Take him literally, that’s what my mother says. He doesn’t want to lose me. He’s said that twice! He wants to make this work, too. Oh Christian, so do I!
Why does that remind me of He-Man?
I move quickly on: some with business associates, then picture after glorious picture of the most photogenic man I know, intimately. Intimately? Do I know Christian intimately? I know him sexually, and I figure there’s a lot more to discover there….Then, on the third page, there’s a picture of me, with him, at my graduation. His only picture with a woman, and it’s me. Holy cow! I’m on Google! I stare at us together. I look surprised by the camera, nervous, off balance.
Abandoning Bob to the TV, we find ourselves in the up-market bar of Savannah’s most exclusive hotel. I am on my second Cosmopolitan. My mother is on her third. She is offering more insights into the fragile male ego. It’s very disconcerting.
Her brow furrows, but she glances up and attracts the attention of one of the waiters, pointing to our glasses. He nods. He understands the universal language of “˜same again, please.’ As she does, I quickly glance at my BlackBerry.
From: Christian Grey
Date: June 1 2011 21:45 EST
To: Anastasia Steele
This is not something I wish to discuss via e-mail.
How many Cosmopolitans are you going to drink?
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
Holy fuck, he’s here.
OK, now this is some scary shit. He had the audacity to “surprise” you in Georgia. Why are you scared of him if you’re supposed to love him so much? Please get away from him.
And that’s a wrap for today! Stay tuned for Chapter Twenty-three later this week!