Finding Memories: Chapter 10
She smelled coffee before she opened her eyes. Then she smelled Grissom and moved her hand to find him next to her. She opened one eye. He was propped against pillows holding a book.
"You ready for coffee?" He asked. "And there are muffins from downstairs."
Sara mumbled an answer and he padded across the room for her cup. "You look good this morning," she said as she watched him fix coffee. She rolled so she could see him, thinking he looked good from this angle, bare feet, boxers, and t-shirt, then he turned around. "Hey, hot stuff." Her low tone mimicked an old movie star and he grinned.
"What kind of dance are we going to?" He asked as he handed her the coffee and slipped back into bed. "I'm not much for dancing—you know that."
She snuggled up next to him before answering. "Senior center. You should like the music." She giggled. "No rock and roll, no rap. All the ladies will be lining up to dance with you!"
A few hours later, her words became true. The women outnumbered men by four to one, but that lopsided figure did nothing to stop dancers as women danced together in groups of two, three, and four. The band, made up of musicians in their seventies, played song after song from past eras. As band members took breaks, someone else would step on the stage and sing or play the piano or play an instrument in solo performances. Grissom danced. Twice he plead extreme exhaustion and sat down for a couple of songs; otherwise he had a partner, or a couple of partners. Three times as music slowed, he found Sara and took her to the floor.
"We should dance more often." He told her. That they fit together so well was no surprise.
She frowned at him in a mocking way. "I remember when you would not dance with me. You told everyone you didn't dance and stayed at the table all night."
"If I remember correctly, you had plenty of partners that night."
"Trying to make you jealous."
"You wore a cream colored dress and had a black velvet ribbon around her neck. And an ankle bracelet."
She looked at him with mouth open. "You remember."
"Yeah." He pulled her closed, folding her hand against his chest. "I need to make up for lost dances."
After the last song played and the place put in order, Grissom insisted on taking the three women to dinner telling them to pick a new place; one they wanted to try. He kept an arm around Sara as they discussed a few places, asked others about certain restaurants, before deciding on a Japantown restaurant. Grissom wanted to call a cab, but the three women, accustomed to walking and riding public buses, refused. They knew how to get to this place and a bus ride was cheap and easy.
The restaurant was not fancy and food was served café style, but the taste was unbeatable and delicious; the selection ranked with gourmet eateries. Grissom, again, charmed the older women with his subtle questions, his polite responses to their questions. Sara smiled as his blue eyes met hers across the table.
A taxi deposited the three roommates at their place after Grissom assured them he would see them before returning to Las Vegas the next day.
In the cab, he pulled Sara close. "We don't get out enough. Today was fun."
Sara snickered as she said, "Catherine would not believe you danced—and you are good. This is a secret I might tell."
He responded with a quiet laugh. "I don't dance like Catherine dances."
Hours later, Sara stirred in her sleep, muttering words before she cried out. Grissom woke instantly. These dreams had disturbed her sleep for years. He gently shook her awake and got her water.
"Still the same dream?" He asked.
She nodded. He knew the dream; a child left behind, wandering empty rooms, running until the child in Sara cried out. He held her until she went back to sleep. She had other dreams which woke her; alone she would stay awake, but he had learned ways to soothe her back into sleep.
The morning came and both remained in bed much longer than most on a Monday morning. Grissom knew he would leave later; he knew Sara would remain behind; he knew he would return to this room. She had not buried her ghosts. They dressed and walked to the bay.
"We came here nine years ago." He said as they walked hand in hand.
She pulled him into a hug. "I'm not ready to leave, Gil. You will come back?"
He left late in the afternoon after visiting the four women who were waiting for them. Sara remained with them promising to call, to be safe, to do all those things lovers promise on parting. The four women made tea, brought out cookies, told stories that made her laugh so she would not think only of his departure.