'A Season of Change' Part 4
By: Allison and Manda
Walking out of the office an hour later, Catherine felt more nervous than when
she had arrived. Hand clasped tightly in Grissom's she listened intently to Dr. Mendel.
He had told them he would rush her test results, and secretly she thanked the lord,
knowing she would be unable to enjoy the holidays until she had heard the news.
"Make sure she rests and gets a lot of fluids. Catherine, take the night off from
work, at this point I wouldn't be too worried, but it's best to stay cautious," he told her,
repeating things she had already ran over many times in her head.
"She has the night off," interjected Grissom, receiving an ice-cold stare in return.
Obviously, she had planned to return to work that night, sick or not. Leaning in close to
her, until his lips were only centimeters away from her ear, he whispered, "Now we can
go see Lindsey's play, together…"
"That sounds great," she whispered back, exhaustion writing a thousand words of
sadness and regret into the ridges of her forehead. It wasn't ideal, to want to see her
daughter's play knowing full well that she would have a difficult time enjoying it. "And
I'll take you up on that offer for soup, later, if it's still available."
"Anytime, Catherine."
Lindsey's grade school was close by, and once Catherine had received her weekly
prescription, Grissom took her there, ushering her into the auditorium, leaning heavily
upon his arm as they took their seats in the forth row, center, amongst a crowd of students
and parents. Lindsey had been dropped off earlier, in the charge of Catherine's sister, and
Catherine was forced to remain content that someone else was taking precautions to see
that the child had everything she would need for her part.
"What part is she playing again?" Grissom asked, amidst the shouts of children,
and the odd glances other parents were throwing at Catherine.
"Florence Nightingale." Catherine responded, a wry smile spreading over her lips.
"It's a 'live historical essay', as I've been sternly informed of for the past three weeks."
" Christmas eve…you think they'd perform a Christmas play…I'm sure it will be
wonderful," he smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her body relax
itself into his. The voices hushed as the lights went down, and even as the curtains drew
open, he could see Catherine fighting to stay awake, desperate to enjoy her child's
performance.
"I am a Vietnam shoulder, marching onto the field of battle to fight for my
right…" A child had stepped onto the stage, adorned in full Vietnam regalia, clutching a
wooden broom handle and looking all the world as if he were about to be stunned into
submission by the mere presence of the audience. "… to party." His hesitant finish and
incorrect usage triggered a ripple of laughter throughout the audience, and as Grissom
glanced over, he saw Catherine's lips had curved up into a light smile, as much of a
reaction as it seemed she could muster.
"Not party, Billy!" A loud hiss could be heard from stage right and Billy's head
swung over as he reacted to the words, and quickly corrected himself. "I am here to fight
the Crimsom war…"
"Crimean, Billy!" Screwing up his nose, he delivered the last of what seemed a
rather lengthy dialogue, and hurried off to stage right. Upon his disappearance, the rear of
the stage became lit and quickly, the play became an all out war, wooden broom handles
and cap-gums running rampant in the hands of so many energetic young actors.
Catherine and Grissom watched intently as the play moved forward with fewer
complications. The moment Lindsey stepped onto the stage, dressed in the costume
Catherine's sister had graciously made for the event, both wore smiles that stretched from
ear to ear. "I told she would be adorable." Grissom whispered.
"Thank my sister for that, I just cook. The sewing is her territory."
"But she has your smile Catherine. That's something that only you could have
done for her." He enjoyed the moment when she leaned close, resting her had on his
shoulder as Lindsey began to recite the lines Catherine had heard so many nights in her
painkiller induced stupors. 'Practice, sweetheart…practice makes perfect!' she'd
mumbled through a closed bathroom door as Lindsey pranced up and down the hallway
with a newspaper had and a toy doctor's kit.
"She's my world." Catherine muttered sleepily, Grissom thankful that the play
was nearing its end. Shaking her shoulder to keep her awake, her head shot up off his
shoulder. "Sorry…"
"I know you're tired. It's nearly finished." He replied as last lines were recited
and the curtain closed. Parents everywhere stretched their limbs and shielded their eyes as
the lights came back on.
"Let's go get Linds…" She struggled from her seat and shrugged off his offered
arm, shaking her head defiantly. "I can't have her seeing me like this, Grissom…it won't
be for more than a few minutes. Margaret's taking her home tonight…and Eddie's taking
her tomorrow."
It was a harsh blow to Catherine, having to hand her child off to willing hands for
days at a time, but with doctor's orders including bed rest…there was little she could do
to argue the matter. And she made no attempts to try, as Grissom followed her through
the hallways lit with florescent bulbs, Catherine's heeled boots clicking gently against the
worn, mottled green tiles. There was a scent of old milk in the air, reminiscent from
cafeteria lunches and unforeseen food fights, and Grissom found himself marveling at
how little elementary schools had changed over the years.
They found Lindsey's classroom after several minutes of walking, and entered to
a gaggle of overexcited young bodies, parents hastily gathering up costume pieces and
chatting briefly with Mrs. Peterberger, Lindsey's third grade teacher, and the director of
the play.
"Ms. Willows! So glad you could make it! Lindsey was hoping you would be
here." Catherine mustered the best smile she could as she shook the woman's hand, fully
aware that Mrs. Peterberger's eyes were analyzing and categorizing her every feature,
and motion.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world…Gil Grissom…this is Mrs. Peterberger,
Lindsey's teacher…." Grissom extended his hand as Catherine introduced the two of
them, distrustful of the teacher's watchful eye.
"It's a pleasure." The educator grasped Grissom's hand in a vise-like grip for a
moment, before turning her eyes to Catherine once again. "Ms. Willows…Lindsey was
brought in by a relative earlier…your sister, was it?" At Catherine's affirmative nod, the
woman continued. "It's our preference that, unless pressing business declares
otherwise…the parents be the one's to prepare their child for the performance. It makes
the other parents less… wary, you know, at having their child among strangers."
"My sister is hardly a stranger," Catherine bristled, and Grissom reached to
squeeze her right hand balled into a fist behind her back. "I apologize for the
inconvenience, and it shouldn't be a problem."
"Are you certain?" The persistence of third graders could certainly be credited to
their teacher, Grissom mused, as the question was presented. "If there is any reason for
concern, Catherine…"
" No, there isn't." And with that note, Catherine turned to kneel at eye level of a
blonde figure, back to the adult trio, struggling noticeably to remove several massive
hairpins from beneath and oversized white felt nurses cap. "Lindsey, sweetheart?"
"Mommy!" the girl's voice shouted, and then whispered, "Could you help me?"
"Sure baby." Catherine replied, taking out the pins and lifting the white hat off of
her daughter's head.
"I didn't think you were coming… I thought you would sleep all day…did uncle
Grissom take good care of you?" At that, Mrs. Peterberger raised an eyebrow, adding one
more fault to the list she had obviously already created in her mind.
"Linds…you were great."
"You're avoiding my question mommy."
"We'll talk about it later...ok? You go have fun with Jeremy tonight…mommy'll
see you soon."
With that the child scampered off leaving Catherine and Grissom alone with Mrs.
Peterberger. "You ready Cath?" he asked, as she grasped his hand and got up from her
crouched position.
"Yea Gil. Let's go." His hand moved to the small of her back, the action not lost
on the teacher that had been standing with them, her finding their behavior more than a
little odd, and leaving question in her, whether or not, Ms. Willows, was exactly what she
seemed.
TBC.
By: Allison and Manda
Walking out of the office an hour later, Catherine felt more nervous than when
she had arrived. Hand clasped tightly in Grissom's she listened intently to Dr. Mendel.
He had told them he would rush her test results, and secretly she thanked the lord,
knowing she would be unable to enjoy the holidays until she had heard the news.
"Make sure she rests and gets a lot of fluids. Catherine, take the night off from
work, at this point I wouldn't be too worried, but it's best to stay cautious," he told her,
repeating things she had already ran over many times in her head.
"She has the night off," interjected Grissom, receiving an ice-cold stare in return.
Obviously, she had planned to return to work that night, sick or not. Leaning in close to
her, until his lips were only centimeters away from her ear, he whispered, "Now we can
go see Lindsey's play, together…"
"That sounds great," she whispered back, exhaustion writing a thousand words of
sadness and regret into the ridges of her forehead. It wasn't ideal, to want to see her
daughter's play knowing full well that she would have a difficult time enjoying it. "And
I'll take you up on that offer for soup, later, if it's still available."
"Anytime, Catherine."
Lindsey's grade school was close by, and once Catherine had received her weekly
prescription, Grissom took her there, ushering her into the auditorium, leaning heavily
upon his arm as they took their seats in the forth row, center, amongst a crowd of students
and parents. Lindsey had been dropped off earlier, in the charge of Catherine's sister, and
Catherine was forced to remain content that someone else was taking precautions to see
that the child had everything she would need for her part.
"What part is she playing again?" Grissom asked, amidst the shouts of children,
and the odd glances other parents were throwing at Catherine.
"Florence Nightingale." Catherine responded, a wry smile spreading over her lips.
"It's a 'live historical essay', as I've been sternly informed of for the past three weeks."
" Christmas eve…you think they'd perform a Christmas play…I'm sure it will be
wonderful," he smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her body relax
itself into his. The voices hushed as the lights went down, and even as the curtains drew
open, he could see Catherine fighting to stay awake, desperate to enjoy her child's
performance.
"I am a Vietnam shoulder, marching onto the field of battle to fight for my
right…" A child had stepped onto the stage, adorned in full Vietnam regalia, clutching a
wooden broom handle and looking all the world as if he were about to be stunned into
submission by the mere presence of the audience. "… to party." His hesitant finish and
incorrect usage triggered a ripple of laughter throughout the audience, and as Grissom
glanced over, he saw Catherine's lips had curved up into a light smile, as much of a
reaction as it seemed she could muster.
"Not party, Billy!" A loud hiss could be heard from stage right and Billy's head
swung over as he reacted to the words, and quickly corrected himself. "I am here to fight
the Crimsom war…"
"Crimean, Billy!" Screwing up his nose, he delivered the last of what seemed a
rather lengthy dialogue, and hurried off to stage right. Upon his disappearance, the rear of
the stage became lit and quickly, the play became an all out war, wooden broom handles
and cap-gums running rampant in the hands of so many energetic young actors.
Catherine and Grissom watched intently as the play moved forward with fewer
complications. The moment Lindsey stepped onto the stage, dressed in the costume
Catherine's sister had graciously made for the event, both wore smiles that stretched from
ear to ear. "I told she would be adorable." Grissom whispered.
"Thank my sister for that, I just cook. The sewing is her territory."
"But she has your smile Catherine. That's something that only you could have
done for her." He enjoyed the moment when she leaned close, resting her had on his
shoulder as Lindsey began to recite the lines Catherine had heard so many nights in her
painkiller induced stupors. 'Practice, sweetheart…practice makes perfect!' she'd
mumbled through a closed bathroom door as Lindsey pranced up and down the hallway
with a newspaper had and a toy doctor's kit.
"She's my world." Catherine muttered sleepily, Grissom thankful that the play
was nearing its end. Shaking her shoulder to keep her awake, her head shot up off his
shoulder. "Sorry…"
"I know you're tired. It's nearly finished." He replied as last lines were recited
and the curtain closed. Parents everywhere stretched their limbs and shielded their eyes as
the lights came back on.
"Let's go get Linds…" She struggled from her seat and shrugged off his offered
arm, shaking her head defiantly. "I can't have her seeing me like this, Grissom…it won't
be for more than a few minutes. Margaret's taking her home tonight…and Eddie's taking
her tomorrow."
It was a harsh blow to Catherine, having to hand her child off to willing hands for
days at a time, but with doctor's orders including bed rest…there was little she could do
to argue the matter. And she made no attempts to try, as Grissom followed her through
the hallways lit with florescent bulbs, Catherine's heeled boots clicking gently against the
worn, mottled green tiles. There was a scent of old milk in the air, reminiscent from
cafeteria lunches and unforeseen food fights, and Grissom found himself marveling at
how little elementary schools had changed over the years.
They found Lindsey's classroom after several minutes of walking, and entered to
a gaggle of overexcited young bodies, parents hastily gathering up costume pieces and
chatting briefly with Mrs. Peterberger, Lindsey's third grade teacher, and the director of
the play.
"Ms. Willows! So glad you could make it! Lindsey was hoping you would be
here." Catherine mustered the best smile she could as she shook the woman's hand, fully
aware that Mrs. Peterberger's eyes were analyzing and categorizing her every feature,
and motion.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world…Gil Grissom…this is Mrs. Peterberger,
Lindsey's teacher…." Grissom extended his hand as Catherine introduced the two of
them, distrustful of the teacher's watchful eye.
"It's a pleasure." The educator grasped Grissom's hand in a vise-like grip for a
moment, before turning her eyes to Catherine once again. "Ms. Willows…Lindsey was
brought in by a relative earlier…your sister, was it?" At Catherine's affirmative nod, the
woman continued. "It's our preference that, unless pressing business declares
otherwise…the parents be the one's to prepare their child for the performance. It makes
the other parents less… wary, you know, at having their child among strangers."
"My sister is hardly a stranger," Catherine bristled, and Grissom reached to
squeeze her right hand balled into a fist behind her back. "I apologize for the
inconvenience, and it shouldn't be a problem."
"Are you certain?" The persistence of third graders could certainly be credited to
their teacher, Grissom mused, as the question was presented. "If there is any reason for
concern, Catherine…"
" No, there isn't." And with that note, Catherine turned to kneel at eye level of a
blonde figure, back to the adult trio, struggling noticeably to remove several massive
hairpins from beneath and oversized white felt nurses cap. "Lindsey, sweetheart?"
"Mommy!" the girl's voice shouted, and then whispered, "Could you help me?"
"Sure baby." Catherine replied, taking out the pins and lifting the white hat off of
her daughter's head.
"I didn't think you were coming… I thought you would sleep all day…did uncle
Grissom take good care of you?" At that, Mrs. Peterberger raised an eyebrow, adding one
more fault to the list she had obviously already created in her mind.
"Linds…you were great."
"You're avoiding my question mommy."
"We'll talk about it later...ok? You go have fun with Jeremy tonight…mommy'll
see you soon."
With that the child scampered off leaving Catherine and Grissom alone with Mrs.
Peterberger. "You ready Cath?" he asked, as she grasped his hand and got up from her
crouched position.
"Yea Gil. Let's go." His hand moved to the small of her back, the action not lost
on the teacher that had been standing with them, her finding their behavior more than a
little odd, and leaving question in her, whether or not, Ms. Willows, was exactly what she
seemed.
TBC.