Chapter 8

The clock letters were glowing at 2:08 a.m. when Catherine sat up, her bladder urging her to go to the bathroom. She had been laying and thinking for hours before finally reaching her conclusion. She was going back to Las Vegas and spend the rest of the week with her daughter. She wasn't helping here, and probably just causing more friction between mother and son. She noticed the light on underneath his door, and realized he probably couldn't sleep, once you got on graveshift schedule it was hard to sleep nights. Taking a deep breath she went and gently rapped on his door.

Bed springs squeaked from inside before the door opened. "Hey," he said, standing there in a pair of blue pajamas, looking rather surprised.

"Can I come in?" She whispered as she looked over her shoulder.

"Sure, but why are you whispering?" He cocked his head to the side for a moment.

"I forgot," she laughed, "takes some getting used to I guess. Anyway I came to tell you that I've decided to go back home today." She plunged right into her announcement.

"But why?" He seemed genuinely confused for a moment.

"Gil she doesn't like me, come on, I didn't come here to spend a week being glared at. I thought you needed me, but you don't."

"How do you know what I need and don't need?" His response was quiet. At her silence realization dawned. "You heard us earlier didn't you?"

She hesitated as if to contradict him, but the look on her face was all he needed. "I'm so sorry Cath, I don't know what's gotten into her." He apologized, hating that she had heard his mother say that.

"Did she tell you why?" She had to ask.

"No, she wouldn't, just kept saying the same thing, that you weren't right for me, stuff like that." Gil said sadly.

"So obviously my being here is not making her feel any better." Catherine shrugged, straightening her shoulders as she remembered her resolve to leave.

"But I'm glad you're here." His tone was sincere, as was the look in his eyes.

"You really want me to stay?" She looked at him closely trying to determine his sincerity.

"Yes I do, but if you want to go, I won't stop you." His tone was somewhat resigned as he sat back on his bed with some books.

"I'll think about it," she finally said, as she started looking around his room, enjoying the glimpse into the boyhood of the enigmatic man she now knew. A few old science texts lined the wall, interspersed with all the James Bond novels and high school yearbooks, though she noticed that there were no personal photo's around. Finding that curious she turned to ask him about it and noticed that he was engrossed in one of the books before him.

Sensing her eyes on him he looked up. "What are you reading?" she was curious to know.

"One of my old journals," he replied with a brief smile. "I was probably about Lindsey's age when I wrote this one," he looked at the date. "I kept journals for several years before I went to college." He admitted.

"Can I look?" Catherine had to ask, expecting him to say no, yet being surprised when he looked at her for a long moment and then scooted over on the single bed.

Her nightgown and robe were not too revealing and she only felt mildly uncomfortable for a moment as she climbed on top of the bed with him. The bed was small and despite the awkwardness they could only maintain so much personal space. Catherine felt like she was going to fall off the way she was teetering on the edge, and Gil's neck was not liking the way he had it propped against the wall. "Lets see if we can get more comfortable, Catherine finally said, acknowledging both their discomfort."

"Sounds good to me, I promise I won't bite." Grissom joked as they tried adjusting positions for a couple minutes, trying to find one where they could both read at the same time, until finally they settled for him on his back and her on her side, with her head on his shoulder and an arm casually across his stomach, while his arm holding the book was around her, and his other hand could turn the pages. The proximity only causing a few moments of embarrassment before they were both drawn back to the journal. Delighting at the chance to peer further into his past Catherine began reading the page in front of her, noting the similarities in his boyish scrawl with his handwriting now.

August 18, 1968

"I turned 12 yesterday, another birthday just like the rest so far, Mother took me out to the Jer-ne restuarant, and I received some cool Chinese artifact in the mail from Dad, not quite sure what it is yet, but I wish I had birthdays more often, it seems to be the only time I hear from him. Going to the beach today to look around for dead birds, I've found eight more dead pelicans this week, just lying on the beach. I hope I can find out what's killing them, it seems unusual. I have to go now, Mothers calling me to go to the gallery with her for some important exhibit tonight.

"So did you find out what was killing the birds?" Catherine had to ask as he laid the book down, his arm tiring more easily with her weight on it.

"Yes, I did actually. When I cut them open I found that they had bones in their throats or stomachs. Turned out some of the fisherman were throwing them their fish scraps that the birds couldn't handle. After I told the authorities they investigated it further and now there are signs up advising against feeding them large fish parts that they can't handle. Gil was obviously still a little proud at the accomplishment.

Catherine smiled at the thought, while other boys his age had been playing ball, going to the movies, the young Gil Grissom had been dissecting birds and going to museums with his mother which certainly explained a little bit more about him.

"You know my mother would die right now," he couldn't help but laugh as a thought crossed his mind.

"Oh yeah, why's that?" Catherine tilted her head to look into his now twinkling eyes.

"You probably could never guess this, but she always had some big hang up about me having girls in my room. Even when I barely started high school, she would lecture me on not letting my hormones distract me from my future career." He laughed as he remembered.

"Oh yeah, the no fornicating thing, what was with that?" Catherine laughed as she remembered her earlier embarrassment, that she'd been too tired to react to then.

"I think that's her favorite word sometimes," she felt his chest rise and fall as he laughed again, "every time a girl would come to see me, which wasn't very often, she would lay down the house rules, wipe off your feet, don't touch the glass doors, and don't fornicate with my son." He intoned sounding almost like her causing Catherine to laugh as she could just visualize the young Gil and how he had probably been so embarrassed.

They laughed together for several moments before finally stopping. "Oh my, she is something else." He shook his head still smiling at his memory of her.

"She is one formidable lady that's for sure," Catherine agreed. "You probably never had a girlfriend till you left home I'll bet."

"Only one that she approved of," he admitted.

"Really, what was she like?" Catherine was curious, wondering if this would shed some light on what his mother disliked her.

Gil thought a minute before getting an odd look on his face, "you know, I just realized, she was a lot like Sara, very smart, bookish, very self-disciplined, and a little bossy, but not very good with people. Mother really liked her, I didn't though, not in that way."

"Was she pretty?" Catherine had to ask, wondering if perhaps his mother had something against her looks. "Not really, I mean she wasn't ugly, but she had limp brown hair, big glasses, braces," He described her from memory. "Maybe that's the problem, Mom doesn't like you because you're sexy." He said teasingly.

"You think I'm sexy?" Catherine pushed back in surprise to look at him in wonderment.