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"If we had no Winter, the Spring would not be so pleasant." - Anne Bradstreet
He paced the airport arrival terminal, his mind miles away with the woman who was flying in. There were 15 minutes left in her 6 hour flight, and he was anxious, antsy. Her voice that typically projected strength had trembled so on the phone a few hours earlier that counting down each minute to holding her in his arms felt like an eternity.
He had been sleeping when his cell phone rang, so it took 4 rings for him to pick up. He wasn't even able to manage a groggy hello before the caller spoke a hurried, "Lou, I need help."
Hearing her voice waver and her plea, he was instantly alert. "Catherine? What's wrong?"
"She's gone," her voice trembled, but she continued, "Lindsey's gone."
His heart broke with each break in her voice. "Catherine…"
Determined to continue, she talked over him so she would get through to him without breaking down again. "Car crash. She's gone."
Parents were supposed to go first. How did one cope with losing a child? His mind jumped to wondering where Jake might be at the moment. He had talked with him a few days prior. Surely, he was fine. Right? "Catherine…"
With 30 minutes until boarding time, Catherine repeated, "Lou, I need help."
"Where is she? Where is she?" Lou thought while he continued to pace. By his watch, her flight had just landed.
"I'm flying in from New York," she had said in her call. "Meet me at the airport."
New York, where she had positively identified Lindsey's remains. She'd already flown from D.C. to New York that day and was now flying to Vegas. "She shouldn't be alone any longer. Where is she?"
He first spotted her dragging her carryon and gazing at the floor while she walked. He walked up to her and called "Catherine," when he was a few feet away so as not to startle her.
Her eyes lifted from the ground and rimmed with tears once again. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms to let her know she was no longer alone – she had someone to lean on. "I've got you…I've got you," he whispered into her hair.
"Can we go? Please?" she mumbled into his shirt.
Lou shifted to pull the carryon with one hand and hold Catherine with the other, slowly guiding her to the car.
"My place okay?" he asked, dutifully driving, yet not knowing a destination.
She nodded. She had curled up in the seat, and her gaze drifted out the window to watch the past fly by. She watched moments when Lindsey was a baby, an ever curious child, and a teenager testing her boundaries. She recalled moving Lindsey to New York for college and their newfound relationship now that they didn't live under the same roof. She sighed as she watched the happy memories disappear with the scenery, and he squeezed her hand that met his at the center console.
Lou managed to bring Catherine back to his house and get her seated on the couch. "Water? Tea?" he asked.
She patted the couch in response, forgoing beverages for his company. He complied, and as soon as he sat on the couch, she scooted over to rest against his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, and he kissed the top of her head. "I'm so, so sorry Catherine. I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
Her tears started again, and she cried in the comfort of his arms. Her tears mingled with broken cries of "she's gone," causing Lou to hold her tighter and slowly rock her through the pain.
A time later, spent, she continued the conversation she had started on the phone. "They're flying her in Wednesday. Wake on Thursday. The funeral will be on Friday."
He mentally calculated that they would have two days to get things in order before Wednesday. "What can I help with?"
"Everything," she paused and sighed, "Details of the arrangements with the funeral director. Phone calls – I can't make the calls. Being there to hold."
He caught the small smile at the corner of her mouth with her last statement when she shifted in his arms to face him. Returning the smile, he tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Have you talked to Jake?" she asked, holding his gaze.
"Yes, while I was waiting to head to the airport. He's home and all is well. He still plans on coming in next week for Christmas."
"Good."
Though her mind actively sought distractions from the topic at hand, she knew burrowing wouldn't make the situation any easier, so she got back on track. "She was leaving New York to come visit me over Winter break. It was a surprise," her voice cracked and she dropped her eyes, "some surprise."
Lou rubbed her shoulders.
She continued, "It was an accident. She was going too fast, too many distractions, and she hit a utility pole. And she's gone. Gone."
Catherine crumpled once again and all Lou could do was hold her in his arms and let her pain fall in large teardrops against his shirt.
Lou left Catherine sleeping on the couch and migrated to the study to begin making phone calls. She had scratched a list of contacts on the plane, and he started the heavy task of poring through her phone contacts and making the necessary calls. "I regret to inform you that Lindsey Willows has passed," he would say, followed by the arrangements for the wake and funeral. He accepted the streams of condolences and asked that Catherine be left to grieve privately at this time.
Predictably, against his advice, some wanted to see Catherine. "Vartann, you tell her we're coming by," Brass said, mentioning Nick, Sara, and Grissom, "She can pick the day and time, but you tell her we're coming. She shouldn't be alone."
Lou agreed. She wouldn't be alone. Of all of the mourners who could have stopped by, narrowing it down to a handful seemed manageable.
Completing all of the calls on her list, Lou left the study to begin making her a light dinner.
"Chicken soup?" Catherine questioned, leaning against the archway to the kitchen.
Lou turned from stirring the pot at the stove to find Catherine wrapped in the blanket that he had tossed over her on the couch. She looked better than before – exhausted, yet her eyes were no longer red with tears. "With toast. And I might be able to find some ice cream in the freezer for dessert if you're up to it after." Lou pointed his chin toward the dining table. "Have a seat. I'll be right over."
Catherine took a seat at the table and watched as Lou finished preparing the soup. "What would you like to drink?" he asked after plating the soup and toast.
"Scotch," she deadpanned.
"You know I don't have that, Cath," he replied.
"I know." She looked down at the table. "It feels like a scotch kind of day, though." She returned her eyes to his. "Water will be fine."
Lou added two glasses of water to the tray of food and brought it over to the table. He took the seat next to hers and distributed the food between them. "You have everything you need?" he asked.
She nodded and squeezed his knee, foregoing words when emotion threatened to creep to the surface again. "Lindsey's missing," she thought.
He squeezed her hand. He'd be there to give her whatever she needed.