A/N: Here's the chapter some have been waiting for-and since we all know Grissom!, hopefully we've written the chapter you wanted! Enjoy!
Deliberate Decisions
Chapter 21
Flying into Las Vegas always took Sara's breath. The magnificent colorings of the mountains ringing the city could be truly appreciated from the air and they did make the city appear as a child's model. A modern day citadel, Sara thought, the tall buildings of the strip set in place of a palace, the spreading grid of suburban sprawl the tenants bowing in service.
She smiled when Grissom took her hand as the airplane descended. "Good to be home, at last," he said.
And home pulled him in a dozen directions. Greg picked them up at the curb and spent an hour with them before leaving. Hank was waiting at home, dancing on four paws when Grissom entered, and appeared torn between which person to follow.
Grissom tapped out a message to his mother, announcing his earlier than expected arrival, and promising to see her before nightfall. There was an eight-week backlog of mail, magazines and journals, several research articles for his review, unsolicited projects from hopeful authors and, by the time he had shifted all of it from one stack into several, Sara appeared at the door of his office.
"It's almost time to visit Betty."
He nodded. "Going with me?"
She shook her head. "You know she wants your undivided attention today," she kissed him. "I'll take Hank for a long walk—and be here when you return."
Sara wanted to contact Martin, but she waited. When Grissom returned from visiting his mother, she raised her concern. "Unless he extends his contract, he has a week left in Vegas."
Grissom was nervous; he paced the kitchen as Sara prepared dinner. "When do you go back to work?"
"End of the week."
He was quiet for a while but kept pacing until Sara said: "Sit down, dear." She put two plates on the small table. "Hank is anxious." The dog was in his bed, but his head moved back and forth watching Grissom. She smiled as he sat down and tousled his hair. "What did your mother say about these curls?"
"She asked if I was growing a pony-tail." Sara sat across from him and picked up her fork. He continued, "She has the Picasso etchings—I didn't tell her, just ask if she still wanted to give them to me." He reached across the table and took Sara's hand. "We'll tell her together."
She turned her hand to grasp his, silently agreeing.
The next morning he placed Martin's envelope on the same table. "Will you call him, Sara? Maybe invite him to come here?" His voice shook with emotion, "I want you to be with me—not—not waiting in another room. Maybe not here—maybe a neutral place. Not the diner—what about here?" Lines of worry creased his face.
Sara stood and wrapped her arms around him. "It's the right thing to do, Gil. He's a good man—in his eyes I see yours—the same questioning uncertainty that I saw in yours once."
Martin Andrews had been waiting to hear from Sara and quickly agreed to a meeting. "Any place—I'm working nights, so any time between six and six." He agreed when she suggested a time the next day, and Sara asked if he would come to their home. She heard excitement in his voice as he agreed.
He said, "Thank you, Sara. I'm excited but nervous. I'm afraid to ask," she heard a familiar uneasy chuckle from him. "Is he okay?"
She assured him, "He's fine, Martin. You two are going to have a lot to talk about—we'll see you tomorrow."
The next morning, Grissom changed his shirt four times before deciding on a blue one. As he brushed his hair he said "I should have gotten a haircut."
"You look good—great. Don't worry about your hair," Sara said as she ran fingers through his yet-to-be tamed curls, tousling a few as she did. "I like this look!"
"You don't think he's on a fishing expedition—that he wants something?"
Sara had listened patiently to Grissom's speculations all morning, giving no opinion nor trying to provide answers. She had busied herself preparing a vegetable platter and cutting up fruit, fully expecting neither man to eat much. She heard the arrival of Martin before he rang the doorbell and opened the door as his finger pressed the bell.
The young man had obviously spent as much time and care as Grissom on his dress—his hair was combed back, he wore a casual knit shirt and a dark blazer, and the lace-up athletic shoes he had worn when he met Sara had been replaced by expensive leather slip-ons. Smiling with relief when she opened the door, he placed a large bouquet of flowers in Sara's hands before saying a word.
"Thank you for arranging this," he said with carefully chosen words.
Sara stepped back, "Come in."
Grissom was standing at her elbow. He stepped forward, extending his hand and clasping the hand of his son for the first time. Sara had never had a doubt that Martin Andrews was her husband's son and if Grissom had any lingering doubts, it vanished as the young man stepped into the house.
In seconds, Sara realized the two men recognized a younger and older version of himself. Unconsciously, they embodied the form and features of each other. Their right hands remained together in a hand shake much longer than normal; the left hand of each man unconsciously lifted to touch their forehead and then rake fingers through hair. Each smiled, immediately, kindly.
Sara watched, fascinated, as tears pricked her eyes. Regardless of what she might think of Martin's mother, the first meeting of father and son was a miracle at any age.
Grissom spoke first, "Thank you for coming—I'm grateful you've come." His voice was deep, unaffected by earlier emotions. He extended his arm. "Come in—come in. We have much to talk about."
Martin had no one to confide in or to share his excitement, and seeing his father for the first time, living and breathing, standing in the same room with him, shook him more than he had expected. Sara had been correct in saying they had the same eyes—yet the easy demeanor, the quick smile, the invitation extended—were a surprise. He smiled, barely able to breathe.
They moved inside the house—a condo in a large building Martin thought had been something else in another decade—and it was almost more than he could take in and quickly sat down on the sofa. He wanted to make a favorable impression, but he was so excited he could barely think.
Grissom settled back in his chair, asking "Did you have any problems finding us—the address, I mean?"
Martin replied, too hastily, "No, GPS—in the car." Nervously, placing his fingertips together, he leaned forward, "Thank you for seeing me, sir. I—I know you—you had to be—surprised—about me." His voice was unsteady.
His father, the man he did not know, leaned forward so they were eye-to-eye with a low table separating them. He smiled, "Thank you for finding me—I had no idea but I—I do remember your mother."
"Sir, I…" Martin stopped when he realized he had interrupted Grissom.
"Call me Grissom—everyone but my wife and my mother calls me Grissom."
For the first time, Martin noticed the blue eyes were filled with a contagious humor, the white hair reflected his own unruly, brown curls across the crown. And the cleft in the chin—instinctively Martin fingered his chin at the familiar mirror image.
Grissom chuckled. "We have a lot in common, don't we?" He leaned back. "Tell me about your work in the ER here. How do you like Vegas?"
Within minutes, Martin was talking, easily, about his work and with a few questions from Grissom, he talked about extending his contract with the hospital; more questions and he was telling Grissom about his college and medical school years. And Grissom was talking about working as a coroner, about his work in the crime lab, and his recent travels.
Sara remained on the periphery of the two men's conversation. She listened to the nervous beginning, heard Grissom's soft laugh, and when Martin and Grissom were talking about Vegas, she poured coffee in cups and took it to the table.
Two pairs of identical blue eyes looked up at her with the same expression on each face. And then Martin stood.
"Thank you, Sara." The young man extended his hand. "I know you've made this possible—thank you."
A/N: And thanks for reading! This story will be 25 chapters-much coming up! Thanks for reading!