The memorial service for Gil Grissom at the Lady of the Divine Church was the biggest Marlena had seen in a long time. Everyone from the bureau was there, and some of their family members as well. Of course, he would not be buried until the investigation was complete but someone had ordered a memorial service as soon as possible and the actual funeral would take place later.
Gil's former team and Detective Jim Brass took the front pew, dressed in black and dark colors, wearing solemn expressions. Warrick clutched the hand of his wife Merilee while Nick's very pregnant wife Adriana leaned her head on her husband's shoulder in comfort. Catherine, and Sara were quietly sobbing into handkerchiefs while nearby, fourteen-year-old Lindsay Willows silently entertained four-year-old Evie Sidle, who did not have the attention span necessary for something that required her to sit still and stay quiet for so long.
The more Marlena stole glances at the four remaining members of the most successful CSI team in Clark County, the more they truly resembled four grieving children mourning the loss of their father.
Each of the members were came up to the pedestal and say something about Gil. All held up well until Sara broke down in the middle of hers.
"From the moment I met Gil Grissom," she began in a shaky voice, "until the last time I saw him, he was always a serious, hardworking and…kind man. He always…He was always putting other people ahead of himself and his own needs…always helping people, which is why he was so good at his job and…like everyone else in our group…I loved him…like a father. No matter how hard he pushed us to…use our heads and think until we had the right answer, no matter how tough he could be on us…we were always friends at the end of the day. And…I loved him—" Sara choked on a sob and suddenly proclaimed, "I'm sorry…I…" and stepped down and ran from the chapel leaving a trail of sobs behind her. Alarmed, Catherine whispered something to Lindsay and then went after Sara. Marlena was tempted to go too but decided to butt out.
"What do you think is the matter with her?" Breeze whispered, who was sitting beside Marlena. "Everyone was fine until—"
"I don't know," Marlena said softly. "She's taking it the hardest, isn't she?"
"Well, she did see his body first."
"Actually, I—"
"You should go see what's wrong. You're her friend."
Marlena peered over her shoulder and saw just outside the doorway where Catherine and Sara were embracing. "No…Catherine's her friend…she's okay, Breeze."
The chapel was full of the murmurs of shock at Sara's "outburst". Even Nick and Warrick were in hushed discussion. Even so, the service went on and Sara returned just in time for the closing hymn. She gathered little Evie into her arms and held her close, burying her face in the child's hair.
"I wonder why she's so despondent," Breeze wondered, still keeping her voice in a low whisper.
"Same reason why everyone else is," Marlena whispered back. "She's lost a friend."
Warrick generously donated the use of his home for the repass after Gil Grissom's funeral. He and his wife Merilee provided a light lunch buffet and drinks. They lived in the suburbs of Las Vegas, not unlike the rest of the bureau, in a charming neighborhood compressed together with picturesque townhouses and apartments. The Browns had two young boys—Isaac, age 5 and Ari, age 2. Ari never left Merilee's side the entire time while Isaac held fast to his father.
Marlena, who loved kids, was charmed by the sweet shyness of both handsome boys and complimented both Warrick and Merilee on such beautiful children.
Sara did not attend the repass but Marlena spotted Evie following Lindsay like a baby duck. When Marlena inquired Catherine about it, she answered,
"I volunteered to watch Evie for Sara tonight. Lindsay, thank God, has been a trooper and is taking over the job for me for now. Poor Sara looked like she needed some sleep."
Marlena wondered how many times Sara would be preferred to as "poor" during the course of this investigation. "Is she okay?"
"Who, Sara? Yeah, she'll be fine. She's tough. You know that steel backbone Sasha's always bragging about? Well, Sara's got one of titanium alloy. My guess is she'll pop a sleeping pill and collapse into bed until the sun rises. Frankly, that's what I feel like doing right now," Catherine managed to joke.
Marlena cracked a tiny smile, "How are you holding up, Catherine? Right now you seem the strongest of anyone here."
"I'm learning to accept," Catherine replied after a pause, "the fact that Gil's really gone. What I cannot accept is how."
"We're working on that," Marlena swore.
"Mom!" Lindsay's urgent voice called. She emerged from the crowd dragging a sniffling child by the hand. "Evie wants her mother."
"Oh, Lindsay," Catherine sighed. She held out her arms, "C'mere, Evie."
Lindsay plopped Evie into Catherine's arms and stalked off. Stifling her sobs, cherub-faced Evie buried her face in Catherine's shoulder, who was looking weary. "I take that back. Lindsay was a trooper."
"If could watch her for a little if you want," Marlena offered.
"Aw, no, I couldn't ask you to do that," Catherine brushed some of Evie's chocolate curls out of her face. Evie had stuck her thumb in her mouth and was sucking silently as a form of comfort. "I'll be okay with her. Come on, Evie. Let's get you something to eat." Before excusing herself, Catherine put a comforting and reassuring hand on Marlena's shoulder. "Your first case is always tough. But if I may give you some advice from a great man: 'concentrate on what cannot lie—the evidence'."
Marlena eventually got a chance to sneak away from the gathering and get some fresh air. She stood out on the porch and took a deep breath, loving what desert air did for her. Feeling slightly feverish, she took off her black knitted duster which she wore over a black pleated skirt and a black turtle-necked tank top. She wore her favorite patent leather square-toed flats on her feet that she wore so often they were like her sneakers.
By accident as she snuck to the corner of the Browns' beige stucco home to smoke a cigarette, hoping the light wind would carry away any smells of smoke, draping her duster over her arm, she discovered Breeze doing the same thing.
She was casually puffing on a Newport, looking like a teenage delinquent who had cut class. She was wearing a black silk sundress with beaded straps and beads running up and down both sides. She leaned up against the house, her black stilettos on the grass beside her and her black Kate Spade handbag was beside it. One leg was tucked up under her dress like a flamingo. Her white-blonde hair was cascaded over her tanned shoulders.
When she caught Marlena spying, her eyes widened in surprise.
"Yes, you've discovered my awful secret!" she exclaimed. "I'm a closet smoker! I am so smart yet so dumb! Sue me!"
Marlena almost laughed as she took her half-empty carton of Parliaments from her purse and withdrew a single one. "I'm not gonna nark, Breeze. I was actually gonna ask you if you had a light?"
"Oh," Breeze reached into her own purse and took out a small purple lighter. "Knock yourself out."
"Don't mind if I do," Marlena mumbled as she lit up but only after she admired Breeze's lighter that had silver designs embossed on it with Capricorn written across it. "Now I know why they call Vegas, 'Sin City'," she sighed, chucked the lighter back to Breeze and then tossed back her dirty-blond hair.
Breeze chuckled, "Just now? Hell, I've known it since I was eighteen."
"I don't know about you," Marlena sighed between puffs, "but it was getting hard to breathe in there." She gestured towards the house. "And here we are dirtying up our lungs."
"I know what you mean. It's like walking on eggshells. I feel like I was invading a private event."
"Like a little kid spying on Mom and Dad's cocktail party."
"Yes. Exactly."
The two women smoked in silence for a moment, the sweet scent of tobacco mingling with the dry desert air. Marlena watched the smoke curling up to the sky in intricate designs. Breeze practiced her smoke rings. Sounds of chatter became lighter and more festive in the Browns' home.
"What made you want to be a forensics investigator?" Breeze blurted suddenly.
A bit taken aback by the randomness of the question, Marlena pursed her lips inquisitively, "I dunno. Why do you ask?"
Breeze shrugged, "Just curious."
Marlena paused in thought. "I guess it was something that interested me. Like most of the guys at CSI, I like puzzles. Let's just say my mother's not exactly thrilled that I 'play with dead people'—as she puts it—and therefore my work is done there."
Breeze laughed.
"What about you? What made you go into forensics?"
Taking a long drag on her cigarette, Breeze flicked some ashes off and she responded, "I always liked science, liked mysteries and puzzles, too. My friends and parents never took me to see those kinds of movies 'cause I'd know who did it within, like, the first ten minutes or so. I was always a genius. You know, I even started kindergarten at four; entered high school when I was twelve; college at sixteen-and-a-half. I'm not even thirty and I'm almost as high as Catherine Willows on the CSI ladder," Breeze sniffled back tears but she was loosing. A rogue tear escaped from the eye with the pierced brow and ruined her carefully applied eyeliner and mascara. "She worked so hard and I kind of feel like I'm cheating." The tear left a sooty streak on Breeze's cheek as it dropped off her chin.
"Why? Because you're smart?" Marlena put her arm around the young CSI, who had already buried her face in her hands. The still-burning Newport dangled from her fingers. "Don't blame yourself, Breeze."
"You're right. I'm being silly. Damn it. I hate crying." Breeze sighed heavily and lifted her face. Marlena saw why she hated crying and successfully stifled a laugh, for Breeze's make-up had run and made her look like a raccoon. "I bet I look a mess."
"Yup," Marlena reached into her purse and handed Breeze a compact, who gasped when she saw her reflection.
"Sweet mother of pearl!" Breeze moaned. "Waterproof mascara, my cellulite-free ass. Have you got a tissue in that bag of wonders, Marlena?"
Marlena nodded and supplied. Breeze frantically wiped off as much as the mascara and eyeliner as she could and, using cosmetics from her own purse, reapplied the mascara, but not before she stubbed out her cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with her pantyhosed foot. Marlena never noticed that without mascara, it looked as if Breeze had almost no eyelashes and very little of her eyebrows, since they were such a light blonde like her hair. It was rare that she saw her friend without make-up.
"It's not as perfect as it was this afternoon, but at least I don't look like a such a hairless cat," Breeze remarked, capping her tube of Great Lash and sniffling. "I think I need a glass of wine. One glass. Think Warrick supplied?"
Marlena cocked her head to listen to the activity inside. There was some social chatter and more sounds of activity. The light, almost somber tune of a piano was drifting outside and reached their ears. "Yes. Most definitely. You like red or white?"
Breeze sniffled as she powdered her nose with Marlena's compact and underneath her eyes, concentrating mainly on her eyebrows. "Oh, I like my wine like all my past boyfriends—white, strong and robust." She snapped the compact closed and handed it to Marlena, who laughed and stubbed her cigarette out too.
The two woman put their arms around each other for support and went back inside Warrick's home, for Gilbert Thatcher Grissom's last party on Earth.