Polexia dropped off Sara back at Sara's Place around three PM. She still had some last-minute things to do before the cocktail party and was taking her older sister Crisli with her.
"I'll see you tonight!" Polexia said, waving as she drove off.
As Sara approached the house and noticed a new car in the driveway. She recognized it as Cecilia's Lincoln. Of course, the vanity plate reading CEECEE was a dead givaway.
"We're in the living room, Sunshine!" Eavan's voice called as soon as Sara closed the front door. We, huh?
Sure enough, seated on the sofa with half a dozen dress boxes between them, was Cecilia and Eavan. Each had a mug of coffee and were watching, ironically, Father of the Bride on cable.
"We've been waiting for you," Cecilia smiled. She stood and took the first box off the pile. She was wearing jeans and a tight black camisole with black sandals on her feet. Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail. Sara had never seen her look so casual. "I've spent the entire morning on Rodeo Drive looking for the perfect dress."
"You didn't have to—"
"Of course I did," Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Wiley never lets me buy anything for him and my former daughters-in-law don't like my taste."
"There are six for you to try on," Eavan said as Sara took the box. "The five that don't work can be returned."
"Now," Cecilia settled back on the couch, "put on a fashion show for us."
Sara sighed. She'd just spent half her day at a bridal shop playing dress-up. She wasn't expecting to come home and do it again for her mother and her father's first wife. "Fine. But I'm not promising anything."
The first dress was sequined baby blue. It came with a matching shawl. As soon as Sara had it on, Eavan and Cecilia frowned.
"Too bright," Eavan said.
"I don't like the shape," Cecilia replied. "Next."
Dress Two was a very simple, very elegant floor-length evening gown in a sort of cerulean.
"Better," said Eavan, "but let's see what else you got."
It turned out all six dresses were blue in some way, shape or form. Cecilia had taken Eavan's advice to heart. After Sara had tried on each one, it was Eavan who decided on the sixth and final dress. A dark sapphire number with short sleeves and a plunging neckline that ended directly between her breasts with a gold-and-emerald brooch. It was floor length and made of a shiny material Sara didn't recognize.
"How slimming!" Sara's mother exclaimed. "Sunshine, it's gorgeous!"
"I love that neckline on her," Cecilia said. "How do you feel, Sunny?"
Sara stared at her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. The neckline was too deep for her, but it didn't show off too much. She would just have to be careful not to bend over.
"It's nice," Sara decided. "If you think this is it…"
"Yes," Eavan and Cecilia said at the same time.
"Then this is it."
"Perfect!" Cecilia exclaimed, gathering the five rejected gowns. "Now, that didn't take too long, did it? I gotta run back to my hotel room but I'll be here early to help you out, Eavan."
"Sounds good. Let me walk you out."
Eavan and Cecilia left the room. Sara was still enthralled with her reflection, turning her body this way and that. Who was that lady in the mirror, in that stunning designer dress the color of midnight? Was that CSI-3 Sara Sidle from Las Vegas, the woman who never goes out, who hasn't had a boyfriend since high school? Sara Sidle the genius who never gets away from work? Nah, couldn't be.
But it was. It really, really was.
The guests who arrived for the cocktail party were smaller in number than they were last night at the barbeque. Plus Eavan had hired a string quartet for the evening and three professional bartenders.
"I'm not doing anything for the next three days," Eavan sighed as she helped Sara put on makeup. "The caterers and the kitchen helpers are coming tomorrow and tonight all I had to do was make hors devours. Everything else's been taken care of. My God, Sunshine, where did you get these cheeks! These are my mother's Irish cheeks, I know this for sure!"
Sara blushed so deeply her mother wouldn't have needed rouge. Ever since she had come back to Sara's Place, compliment after compliment had been rained down upon her, whether it was her mother, father, brother, anyone. Eavan was already dressed in her black ensemble with the silver jewelry she always wore with it. Her hair was in a French twist and she was helping Sara pin hers up into a chignon.
"It's just those in the wedding party tonight, and their spouses, so they can socialize and get to know each other. Of course, the children are not invited."
Two of Sara's nieces, ten-year-old Megan and twelve-year-old Sophie, had arrived shortly after Sara received the dress from Cecilia. They were thrilled to see their aunt and vice-versa. The three of them had spent the remainder of the afternoon on the swing set in the backyard, catching up. Kirya was scheduled to arrive the next morning, just in time for the rehearsal.
"Just look at you," Eavan shook her head as she showed Sara her reflection in the handheld mirror. "You are stunning. Cecilia has a wonderful eye for fashion."
Sara stared at herself. "I don't look like me anymore."
"You're still you, don't worry."
But Eavan didn't understand. Sara didn't feel like Sara Sidle anymore. Sara Sidle didn't go to cocktail parties and wear gowns with necklines that showed her tits. This was not Sara Sidle staring back at her. This was Sunshine, the bridesmaid.
Phil came into the room and made a queer face. "Excuse me, you two gorgeous, stunning ladies," he said to Sara and Eavan, "but I'm looking for my wife and my daughter. Have you seen them? We have a very important date tonight."
"Coyote," sighed Eavan. "You dumb old hippie."
"I love you too," Phil smirked. He struck a pose. "Well, Love-Light, do I look like a dumb old hippie tonight?"
"Yes," Eavan looked her husband up and down in his best suit. "You're not wearing shoes."
The party went off without a hitch. Sara couldn't believe the backyard of her childhood home had been transformed into an elegant party spot. Tube lighting had been strung about the porch, giving it an angelic yellow-white glow. Chinese lanterns were hanging overhead, lighting the lawn. The string quartet was set up off to the side of the porch, opposite the bar. Waiters and waitresses in black and white uniforms flitted here and there serving Eavan's homemade hors devours. Sara immediately went to the bar got herself a Jack Rose, which was better than Cecilia's, and went to go mingle.
The first person she bumped into was Daphne Allen, who was wearing a stunning gold lamé evening gown.
"Hello, Sara," Daphne smiled weakly. "You look lovely."
"Thank you," Sara felt herself blush again. "I'm not used to wearing stuff like this. You know, dresses and stuff. I'm not allowed to at work. Mostly jeans."
"Yeah, I used to dress like that before I met my husband. Then after we got married, there were so many social events to go to and meetings to attend that I just gave up on jeans altogether."
Out of the corner of her eye, Sara saw Cecilia making her way over, wearing a gown the color of red wine. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her jewelry was gold.
"So, this is where you grew up?"
"Yeah, me and Wiley. Well, he was only here every other month."
"Oh, Sara!" Cecilia said in a sing-song voice, tapping Sara on her shoulder and rubbing her back a little. "You must come with me!"
Sara looked over her shoulder at Cecilia, who was speaking in a slightly slurred way and clutching a champagne glass as if someone might snatch it away at any second. "Excuse me," she said to Daphne, and went with Cecilia, who grabbed her by the hand and dragged her all the way across the lawn, this way and that, zig-zagging between people. Cecilia was taking her in circles, Sara was sure.
"Um, Cecilia?" Sara asked, out of breath and amazed at Cecilia's stamina in her obviously inebriated state. "What are we doing?"
"I'm looking-ooking-ooking for someone," she replied, sounding like the stuttering goose in Charlotte's Web. "He was just here..."
"'He?' Cecilia, I'm not interested in a—" Sara protested but Cecilia cut her off.
"Don't you dare complain! This man is too perfect for you it's frightening!" Cecilia gushed, holding Sara's hands in hers. "I know him. He's a wonderfully cultured and articulate man and darling, his eyes could make you weak in the knees!"
"Where do you know him from?"
"I was a fan of his mother's artwork and I met him at one of her gallery openings. At all of her openings. Oh, there he is-is-is!" Cecilia squealed and blew out Sara's eardrum. "See him? By the willow tree?"
Sara squinted into the dusk that was settling on the property. "Nope."
"Oh...then let me bring you over."
Sara sighed and let Cecilia drag her a few more feet to where this mystery man was standing. His back to them.
"There you are, dear!" Cecilia said to him. She released Sara and linked her arms through his. "I have someone I'd like you to meet!"
The man turned around and Sara found out Cecilia was right—his eyes did make her weak in the knees.
They were Gil Grissom's eyes.
"Sara?!"
"Grissom?!"
"You know each other?" Cecilia looked confused.
"Sara's one of my subordinates at the crime lab, Cecilia," Grissom said.
Sara was still too stunned to speak. What the hell was he doing here?
"Why does no one tell me these things?" Cecilia whined. "Here I thought I was doing a wonderful matchmaking job and you already know each other. Damn!"
"Oh, Cecilia, I assure you this won't be your last attempt at a Dolly Levi maneuver. You have four granddaughters who are lacking in spousal attachment."
Cecilia gave a weak smile and turned to Sara, who was too petrified to speak. "Sara, darling, if you don't close your mouth a bird will surely nest within."
"What are you doing here?" Sara asked Grissom in a nastier tone of voice than she intended. She was furious—was it really necessary he barge in on her vacation?
"I was invited," Grissom gave Sara a sympathetic look, "by Cecilia. I had no idea that her son was your brother, Sara."
"Half-brother," she corrected sharply.
There was an awkward silence. Cecilia then suddenly cleared her throat and said, "Well, I need another drink. Can I bring you anything, Gilbert?"
"No thank you, Cecilia, I'm fine," he held up his glass full of scotch. "Anything for you, Sara?"
"No," Sara replied through clenched teeth. She crossed her arms over her bosom, trying to conceal the plunging neckline that she now felt was too outrageous. How did she let her mother talk her into wearing something like this?
Cecilia sauntered away and Sara had an uncontrollable urge to deliver a swift kick to Grissom's stomach.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sara asked again, trying to make her voice as un-menacing as she could.
"I told you, I was invited," Grissom shrugged. "Look, I had no idea your half-brother Wiley was Cecilia's Wiley, okay? If I had, I would have declined."
"No, no no no no!" Sara grumbled. "One of the reasons I agreed to make the six hour drive away from Las Vegas and become Puff the Magic Bridesmaid to Polexia—"
"The bride's name is Polexia?"
"Yeah."
"I thought it was Paula."
"Anyway, one of the reasons I came here was to get far away from you for the first time in six years! Every time I change directions there you are, fucking it up for me!"
"Sara," Grissom said, his voice soft as ever and slightly teasing. He put a hand on her shoulder and Sara calmed a bit. "Whether you like it or not, I'll be staying here. For the next three days, we're lodge mates. I suggest you warm up to the idea of me seeing you in ducky pajamas."
Sara paused. "Who told you about my ducky pajamas?"
Grissom gave a sideways smile and made a subtle gesture towards Cecilia, who was chatting up a young waiter.
"I should have known." Sara rolled her eyes.
Cecilia returned moments later, a twinkle in her eye. She had forgoed her champagne in favor of a martini, holding one in each hand. "I stand by what I said earlier, Gilbert. You two would make a heavenly couple." She thrust one of the martinis into Sara's hand.
Been there, done that, thought Sara, who didn't care for martinis and instead nibbled on the olives. "How did you say you knew Gilbert, Cecilia?"
"Why, I've known him for years. Well, I've known his mother for years. You don't forget a remarkable woman like Eugenia Grissom."
"Cecilia and my mother are old friends," Grissom interjected, for Sara's benefit.
"Be careful how much emphasis you put on old, sir," Cecilia gave Grissom a playful nudge and stirred her martini. "How is Genie nowadays? Still painting?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. She actually is putting together another unveiling in a month or so. Should I let her know you're interested in attending?"
"Oh, now that would be wonderful," Cecilia smiled. She patted Grissom's shoulder. "You save me dance for later, Gilbert."
Cecilia left again, back to the waiter she had been flirting with. Grissom sipped his own drink, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He noticed Sara staring at him.
"What?" he said. "You heard the story. My mother and Cecilia are friends. I really had no idea that you and Wiley were siblings."
"And the fact that Wiley's last name was Sidle never gave anything away?"
"No. As a matter of fact, I never knew Wiley's last name was Sidle until very recently. I've always known Cecilia by the last name of Martin, which I now know is her maiden name. I always assumed Wiley was Martin as well."
Sara groaned to herself. Great. Now she was stuck with him for the weekend.
"You never told me that your extended family was "
"Have you met my parents?"
"No."
"Then you ain't seen nothing yet."