Chapter 12
When I got home, I seriously felt like staring at the wall. I needed to take some time to think my thoughts through, thinking Nick could possibly be right, and I just can't think straight due to the impact this situation is having on me. So, that's what I did. I leaned back against my counter, the elbow of my right arm resting on my left arm across my chest, my right hand scratching at my chin and lower lip. I let my eyes flood up and allowed for the tears to roll down my cheeks. I figured it's not healthy to keep these sort of feelings bottled up inside, even though they were silent tears for the most part.
Remember that thing I brought up earlier? About staring at something you usually never would find yourself normally staring at, but you suddenly notice its significance? Well, that happened with a nail hammered into the wall. There was no painting hanging from it. There used to be, can't remember what the painting was, but it wasn't that important to me. Ever since I took that picture down, I've been waiting to put up a better one. An important one.
Brrriiing, rrring! My moment of silence was interrupted by my home phone ringing. I turned my head and stared away from the nail and towards the phone further away on the kitchen counter to my left.
Brrriiing, rrring! Who would be calling now?
Brrriiing, rrring! Oh, who am I kidding. It's definitely someone from work.
Brrriiing, rrring! Why won't they just leave me alone?
Brrriiing, rrring! Don't pick it up, Sanders…
Brrriiing, rrring! Boy, does it ring for a long time.
Brrriiing, rrri-! Then the rolling of the answering machine crackled, and I heard my energetic, electronic voice speak.
"Hey! You've reached Greg. If it's night, I am at work. If it's the day, I'm either asleep… OR, I'm at work! Leave your name and number, and I'll call you back!"
Eeep!
"Hey, Greg… it's Catherine. Listen, I am very sorry about what happened… Nick and I did it with the best intentions. We realized how glum you were feeling, and didn't like seeing you that way… Listen, Greg, you hate our guts. We're sorry. Hope you can accept our apology. Talk to you later." And with a sigh, she hung up. I continued to eye the answering machine for a few seconds longer, and when I looked away (Brrriiing, rrring! ) the phone rang again.
Brrriiing, rrring! Not again.
Brrriiing, rrring! Catherine, if it's you, I'm not here. You just called.
Brrriiing, rrring! Nick, if it's you, you know I'm finished with you.
Brrriiing, rrring! Can't a guy have his privacy?
Brrriiing, rrring! I guess not…
Brrriiing, rrri-! The answering machine picked up again. The person calling this time was Warrick.
"Hey, Greg, it's Warrick. I heard you found out what happened, and I'm sorry that they did such a thing to you. Really am. I regret not telling you from the start, but I didn't have the heart to break the news to you when you looked so happy. I felt it was better to wait it out a little, but I guess I was wrong with that. Listen, if you need to talk to anyone, or vent, just give me a call. Okay? We can take it at the diner, go get a drink, or something.
"Take care of yourself, Greg." And he hung up.
Warrick… he's been real good to me lately. What a great guy. Unlike Nick and Catherine. But… a part of me was mad at him, too. He was right. He was wrong. He should have told me sooner. He should have…
What am I thinking? Listen to yourself, Greg. You're becoming a maniac. A hater. You're judging everyone who's trying to do things with good intentions.
"Oooh…" I rubbed my face with both hands. I felt so tired… I could probably fall asleep standing up, if I tried.
And then the phone rang again. Brrriiing, rrring! I separated my fingers on my face and peeked an eye out to look down at the phone again.
Brrriiing, rrring! Oooh geez!
Brrriiing, rrring! Give it a rest, will you guys?
Brrriiing, rrring! Okay, who is it now? Who is left?
Brrriiing, rrring! Brass? He sounded a little worried before, but probably not.
Brrriiing, rrring! Hodges? … no, too farfetched.
Brrriiing, rrri - ! I waited for the caller's voice after my recorded one. As the electronic me talked, I meandered over to the couch, where I laid down on my back, trying to relax. I closed my eyes. Just take a deep breath, Sanders… you'll get over it all soon…
"Greg. It's Grissom." My eyes shot open and I stared blankly at the ceiling, "Calling to see if you'd like to talk now or not. If you do, just drop by or call me. Look forward to seeing you at work tomorrow." And he hung up.
The nerve of that man! Well… maybe it would be a good time to talk to him, now… But it's Grissom I'm talking about here! … but it couldn't be that bad, could it?
I rolled over on my stomach and let out a groan into the cushions. The phone rang so much within the past couple minutes, it was ringing in my brain! Brrriiing, rrring!
Brrriiing, rrring! Listen! There it goes again!
Brrriiing, rrring! Wait… I don't think that's in my head.
Brrriiing, rrring! I lifted my head from the pillow. Yeah… it definitely wasn't in my head.
Brrriiing, rrring! God, just shut up!
Brrriiing, rrring! I hopped over the top of my couch and walked over to unplug it…
Brrriiing, rrri-! …but it already got to the answering machine. I figured since it got this far, there'd be no use in unplugging the phone. I waited for the person to speak, and when she did, I couldn't believe my ears.
"Hey, Greg? It's me, Sara…"
"Sara…?" I leaned against the wall. I felt my body temperature raise immeasurably, the room looked so big and bright, I don't even know what I felt. I couldn't even catch what she was saying, I was too caught up in the fact that she was calling. Was it really her? Or was it another joke? I looked at the answering machine and listened to her voice, just the sound, and not the meaning behind the words…
"… -ssom notified me and filled me in on what happened to you, and I'm calling to see if you're all right. I heard what happened in the lab, too, with Nick and Catherine, and I'm sorry about it all. I wish there was something I could do. I know you're busy and stressed, Greg – "
There we go. She said my name again… oh, the things you can do to me, Sara… if only you knew…
"… that's my number. I want you to call me; I'm worried about you. Hope to talk to you soon." And then I woke up. Sara's on the phone. She called me. She's still on the line! I quickly reached for the phone and held it to my face.
"Sara!" But it was no use. I caught the sound of the phone meeting it's receiver. I slowly put the phone back down and gazed at the answering machine.
…
…
… did she say she gave me her number?
I hopped the counter and quickly thrust open a drawer in search of a paper and pen. I found a pen, but couldn't find anything to write on.
"Dammit…" I pushed the buttons on the phone dock to replay Sara's message, and leaned up against the wall.
"Hey, Greg? It's me, Sara. It's been a while… I regret leaving, really, I do. Grissom notified me and filled me in on what happened to you, and I'm calling to see if you're all right. I heard what happened in the lab, too, with Nick and Catherine, and I'm sorry about it all. I wish there was something I could do. I know you're busy and stressed, Greg, but I'm giving you my number…"
I raised my hand to the wall and quickly scribbled down the number, repeating the digits as she announces them, "Four one five… three five, six… nine three… six six."
I stared at the numbers after I finished writing them on the wall, admiring them. It was after her message had ended did I notice I wrote it under the nail in the wall.
My face lit up and I felt like this day had never happened. All the bad things, swept away. My heart lifted and I held my breath.
"Sara…" I sighed. It's then I checked my back pocket for my cell phone and took it out. I ran into my room, dialing a number along the way, and held it against my shoulder as I rummaged my closet in search of a black coat. When the person picked up, I was dashing outside my apartment while wrestling my coat on.
"Brown."
"Hey, Warrick? Can I meet you at the diner?"
