Part XIV
Nothing lasts forever.
It was a saying Grissom apparently took to heart, because less than an hour later she found herself standing next to him while he looked at refrigerators at Home Depot. She stared blankly ahead, emotionless until she caught the model of refrigerator that was in their home -- or his home, rather -- in Las Vegas. Sara could feel a tear gather in the corner of her eye as she thought back a couple of years. Moving into Grissom's home had been a thrill, but what touched her beyond measure was the fact that he had actively made room for her. The fridge was their vegetarian fridge, he had told her, and any meat that he wanted to keep was in the mini fridge in his office.
She did her best to casually wipe the tear away before it could fall.
"What do you think of this one?"
Sara looked up, startled to have been addressed. "What?"
"This fridge," Grissom said, motioning to the one in front of them. It was large and stainless steel, and looked as if a small family could fit in it comfortably.
"It's…big."
"The kitchen is big," he supplied as he leaned towards the tag to get a better look at the measurements.
"And it's expensive. Let me pay for it," Sara said quickly. "I broke the other refrigerator," she explained when he regarded her with a puzzled expression.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "It was old. It's amazing it lasted as long as it did." Grissom ended the conversation by walking to the nearest clerk and pointing at the appliance he wanted.
It was delivered the next day, the modern piece taking the place of the ancient one, the new replacing the old. Sara ran her hand over the handle of one of the doors before moving to the complicated-looking digital water dispenser. She heard footsteps and turned to see Grissom in the kitchen doorway.
"It's a…very nice refrigerator," she told him, remembering she hadn't given her opinion when he asked it the day before.
His eyes scanned the room. "It never hit me until now…"
"What?"
"This kitchen is horrible."
It was. She didn't tell him that, but it kind of was. "No. No, it's…" Sara turned to face him, but he was gone.
Plans for a new kitchen were under way within twenty-four hours. The recently purchased refrigerator was moved to the laundry room and everything else got gutted. Grissom had hired a contractor and crew to do the work, but he spent the long hours of the day helping rip up the linoleum, demolish the cabinets, and knock down one of the walls to open the space up to the rest of the house. There never seemed to not be noise coming from the kitchen, so Sara preferred to take the dog out for hours at a time and explore Marina del Rey rather than spend all day cooped up in his mother's bedroom staying out of the way. Grissom always seemed a little disturbed that she was beyond his watchful gaze for periods of time, but she knew he was certainly not going to let her help out in the kitchen, so this was the best option. He tried to ask her opinion several times -- what kind of cabinets she liked, what color granite she thought was prettiest -- but most of the time she just shrugged and said, "It's your house." One time she tried to change it up and said, "Well, what do you think your mother would have liked?" but he only got very quiet. After that, she started to offer her opinion here and there when she felt sure it was generic enough to not do any real damage to the aesthetic.
He always went with her suggestions.
On her excursions with the dog, Sara got to explore her makeshift home. Often aimless, they walked the sidewalks without purpose. The weather was mild and Lady seemed to enjoy it. Sara was just happy to be out of the house. Though she loved pouring over Grissom's father's collection of books, she felt awkward doing so while Grissom was working hard in the kitchen. It was much easier to read in stealth at night.
About a week into their walks, they stumbled across the library. Delighted, Sara moved to walk through the doors when she remembered she had the dog with her. The next day, she left Lady home so she could go pick up an application for a library card, but was disheartened to find out that, due to the fact that her California driver's license had expired and she had no proof of address, she couldn't take out books. Other than asking Grissom to put her name on the electric bill, she could see no way around it, and Sara was not about to ask Grissom to put her name on the electric bill.
She turned to leave before stopping in her tracks and looking back to the librarian. Just because she didn't have a card didn't mean she couldn't read all she liked while in the library. She just couldn't take anything home with her. "Where's the section on botany ?"
Excitement raced through Sara as she followed the librarian's directions to the botany texts. New books. Old books. She'd have updated information to compare with everything she read in Grissom's father's library. She immediately located the book she had wanted to buy at Barnes & Noble. It wasn't in the same mint condition, but it was the new edition and it seemed to call out to her. Sara eagerly pulled it off of the shelf and searched for a secluded spot to read.
Time seemed to stand still as she sat with the book, but soon the quiet bustle of the library ceased and fell silent, and an announcement from the loudspeaker let her know it would be closing in fifteen minutes. Alarmed, Sara scanned the walls of the library for a clock.
Seven forty-five.
She had been sitting there for almost nine hours. Sara snapped the book shut and bolted from her seat. Grissom had to be worried. He didn't like it when she walked around with the dog for an hour, forget nine hours alone without the protection of a German Shepherd. She sprinted home as best she could in her cheap pair of flip flops. The balls of her feet were aching, but she kept the pace.
Only ten blocks to go.
Eight more.
Five.
She was out of breath and feeling lightheaded, but she kept running. He'd be so mad. Worse than that, he'd be upset. She knew very well he felt responsible for her, and to know she caused him worry yet again stung.
It was dark now, and the streets looked vaguely different when the sun wasn't high in the California sky. She whizzed past houses that seemed so vacant and lifeless during the hours of the day but were now aglow with lit windows. She could see shadows through the glass, shadows so different from the ones she saw while she was hibernating in Tomales. These were shadows of families, couples, people with dogs that were enjoying their evening before they went to bed so they could do it all again the next day.
They didn't know how lucky they were.
She knew some probably thought their lives were monotonous and longed for adventure. She knew that some probably wished they woke up not knowing what the day would bring. Sara wanted to knock on their doors, plead with them to appreciate what they had, appreciate waking up next to someone they loved, appreciate having a job and stability.
She had all of that.
All of it.
She had the perfect man, the perfect dog. She had a job she was great at. She had friends who cared. And it all could've been hers forever. Forever and ever. But the floor seemed to crumble out from under her and she panicked. She wished she could go back. She wished she could tell herself to hold on tighter, even if it were for her own selfish reasons, even though she knew Grissom would probably be better off without her in the long run; she wished she could go back and hold on.
"Sara!"
She law the lights of the car illuminate her shadow before it registered that he had pulled up next to her in his rented car. Grissom called her name once more and she turned abruptly, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. He leapt out of the car and clutched her by the shoulders in one fluid movement. "Where were you?"
She shook her head, trying to collect herself as she willed her breathing to slow. "Library. I…lost track of the time. I…I'm sorry."
His eyes searched her face as his hands slid down to her upper arms. "I've been looking all over for you."
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I really…I didn't realize it was so late."
Grissom let go looked away "Let's go home." He opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to buckle up before he closed it. Once he got situated in the driver's seat, he turned to look at her. "When was the last time you ate?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't remember the last meal she had.
"I thought so."
They got some Japanese take-out food and drove back home. Sara frowned when they pulled up to the house, all lonely with its unlit windows. It lacked the life of the others she had past on her sprint from the library.
"Are you okay?"
Startled, she looked at him and then shook her head. "I'm fine."
They got out of the car -- Grissom toting their take-out food -- and entered the dark house. Sara could feel the dog jump up on her eagerly before she could see her. "Hey, Lady," she said tiredly as she rubbed the dog's head.
"I'll get the lights," Grissom said softly, and within seconds Sara found herself blinking, adjusting to the brightness. Her eyes moved from the dog to the surrounding space, and her jaw dropped.
"Oh my goodness."
There was a gleaming, brand-spanking-new kitchen to her left. The wall that they had knocked down early on in the demolition phase now revealed gorgeous cherry cabinets and sleek sand-colored granite instead of the sheet rocked, patchy walls she had grown used to.
"Do you like it?" he asked. "We finished it a couple of hours ago. I didn't even realize you weren't home until we were done and I was going to show it to you, but then…I couldn't find you."
"It's great. Beautiful," she said as she watched him pull out the containers of food and set them on the bistro table at the far end of the room.
"Thank you." They took their seats and began to eat in silence.
Sara found herself more hungry than she realized. Now, without a book in front of her, she could concentrate on the rumblings in her stomach. In mere minutes she had polished off two vegetarian California rolls and was on to her second bowl of miso soup. As she looked up to make sure she had left enough for Grissom, she noticed he was fixated on what was beyond her shoulder. She turned, looking to see what had captured his attention, but was confused when there was nothing to be found. She faced him once more, brows furrowed.
"The living room doesn't match," he said evenly, without emotion.
"Hmm?"
"It's from another era. It doesn't match."
"It's all probably back in style now," she told him.
He got up and walked to the room, turning a slow circle as he evaluated his surroundings. "No. No, it's all got to go."
TBC…