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A Few Days with Two Mothers Chapter 1

"You know I can't hire someone on your say-so! Get real. The last three, no four, new hires have come straight from the top—'My daughter needs a job.' or some politico's son-in-law has just graduated with a degree in forensics. I haven't hired one single person without someone's influence in years." Jim Brass slid a short tumbler across the desk.

Gil Grissom's opinion was evident by the impatient look on his face. "She's good, Jim. I've seen her in action—her thought process is so fast, so astute, she's as close to a genius as I've ever been around. We need someone like her on this team."

The two men drained their glasses before Brass spoke again. "Gil, are you sleeping with this girl?"

The two men had known each other for years; Brass was technically Grissom's boss, but neither man considered that term or position as essential in their friendship. Most of the time, they chose to ignore their working relationship.

Brass continued. "You know the rule—she'd have to work on another shift, so you are talking to the wrong person. Get her on swing—half the time she'd be working with you."

"I want to work with her. Not stick her with Ecklie or that bunch on swing—and you know how hard it is to get a day shift position." Grissom leaned back in his chair and pinched his nose. "We are one down on grave. Bring her in as temporary—then we can slip her in as permanent."

Brass gave a sarcastic laugh. "You and I know that won't happen. The sheriff is sending someone's daughter in two weeks, fresh out of the academy." He shoved the glasses and bottle in the bottom drawer of his desk. "I'll see if I can do anything. How much notice would Sara need to get here?"

"Two weeks. I think she could come with two weeks notice." Grissom got up to leave waving at his friend as the door closed.

Both men realized the first question had not been answered.

SSGGSSGGSSGG

Sara had decided she enjoyed her infrequent visits to the community farm. She liked the quiet, the animals that were treated as family pets, and the food—she liked the common dinner table, the polite passing of food, the conversation between women who shared their lives. Sister Deborah was the one who made Sara welcome. Her own mother was too shy or too anxious when Sara arrived to converse, taking at least an hour to be able to do more than answer in one word responses.

By lunch time, Laura Sidle would be able to talk, laugh quietly, place a hand on her daughter's arm. By the time Sara left, the two women had walked around the farm, talking about Sara's job in general terms and her recent trip to an oasis. She did not tell everything, just about the hike and the water and the Indian village.

As she left, Sister Deborah extended the same invitation, seconded by her mother. "Bring your Las Vegas friend to see us. We don't have many visitors and the only men we see are the priests who come for our vegetables!" Sister Deborah was the unofficial social director for the community and each time Sara left, the nun made the same statement.

Sara did not promise to bring Grissom. She wasn't sure he was ready for this quiet house filled with nearly two dozen women and their religious devotion. She laughed to herself as she drove away—every time she drove out here she wasn't sure she was ready for this place. But, at the end of each visit, she knew it was the right place for her mother and that provided her with a level of satisfaction and relief.

If she could figure out what to do with the ongoing relationship with Gil Grissom, she could plan how to move forward with her life. Her big problem was living in Las Vegas—a place so strange and weird that it made San Francisco seem totally normal. Living in a desert where every thing green was artificial, or certainly seemed to be; where monumental buildings were being built as other cities might replace traffic signs held no appeal to her. Grissom was the enticement.

He had said he loved her. She smiled thinking of his words. He had taken her to a place he had never taken anyone else. He wanted to teach her to play golf. He wanted to work with her. She wanted to believe him—about everything.