Fifty Shades Of Hiding

    I’m just going to throw this out there — I’ve read parts one and three in the “Fifty Shades of Grey” trilogy. I skipped part two because how much sex can two people really have? It’s something I tell my husband every week. And considering I’m not a teenager or even young anymore, other people’s sex lives are something I can read about only so much.

    My favorite thing about the cooler weather settling in is having a little extra time to snuggle in with a good book. All I need is a couch plumped with pillows, scented candles sprinkled about, a stack of novels by my side, and a fire burning in the wood stove to call it a good night out here in Montauk, especially in winter when the wind howls and rattles my house, just one mile west of the Montauk Lighthouse.

    Reading “Fifty Shades,” however, brought me back to when I used to have to hide my Jacqueline Susann novels from my mother. Growing up Catholic, sex was not on the list of fun things to do. Luckily, I’ve since learned otherwise, but it still didn’t prevent me from hiding the “Fifty Shades” books when I was done reading for the night so no one, much less my own adult children, caught me with them.

    I had to read the third one to find out if the female character makes it out alive. And what did I learn? Silly, I already know how to do that. I learned they had children! If there’s anything that can change a couple’s sex life, it’s the appearance of little ones in your home.

    My imagination being what it is, I couldn’t help wondering what would happen to the highly sexually active couple, Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey, when their kiddies were born. In the last book, I think (trust me, these are not the parts I remember from these books) they have a little boy with another one on the way. How will little Johnny feel about Daddy, who I should mention is filthy rich, spanking and handcuffing Mommy? And, my goodness, what will the children think when they find the sex toys and leather whips?

    Little ones have big mouths, as my 4-year-old grandson recently told me when I tried to get out of him what his parents were going to name their new baby. Since most couples these days find out the sex of their child, they keep the name a secret until the baby is born. My daughter and son-in-law do that because they know it kills me not to know and so no one criticizes their choice. (They named her Sadie.)

    But when the Grey kid goes to school, how do they know that he won’t blab about the curious things that happen in his house? Will he tell the teacher about the bruises on his mother or the marks around her wrists (handcuffs)? He might even mention that Mommy walks funny when she comes out of Daddy’s secret room. Will he sneak out some weird sex toy to take in to school for show and tell?

    And does Daddy tell the authorities when they show up at the house that she’s tied up in the other room and really mean it?

    Since I tend to get attached to the characters I read about, I can only hope that Christian Grey gets handcuffed not by his wife but by the police. “But she liked it,” he’ll tell them after his wife is allowed down from the wall where they’ve been playing kinky.

    And then the little Grey family will watch as Daddy is hauled off to jail. Mommy will probably thank the powers that be for little children with big mouths. “Thank God I got rid of that jerk,” I imagine she’ll say.

    This weekend’s big fall festival in Montauk will finally put a blanket on the season. The storms will start, the rain and snow will fall, but I’m ready. I might even do some rereading to jazz things up around here. That is, if I can remember where I hid my favorite books.

    Janis Hewitt is a senior writer for The Star.