Chapter 5
Grissom had his feet up on the table. His blue eyes scanning the pages, his lips parted just a bit in concentration. Sara didn't know what he was reading but he had buried in the book since after dinner.
"Do we have any rituals?"
"What?"
"Do we have any family rituals?"
Sara peered at him at him from her work at the kitchen table. "Gily gets to pick out the Christmas tree every year."
Grissom wrote something on the pad that was close to his hand.
He continued reading, after a few minutes he spoke. "What is our definition of success for Gily?"
"Gil what are you reading?"
He held up my book. "Dr. Phil's Family First he says that we should have definition of success for our children."
/Did I just say our children? I meant the universal we or the collective we. Sure you did./
/Did he just say our children/
"I can't believe you're reading Dr. Phil."
He peered over his glasses at Sara. "This is good stuff." A sharp rap came on the back door. A tall man that resemble young Dean Martin burst into the kitchen with a messenger bag over his shoulder and shock of black hair falling into his dark eyes. He handed Sara a coffee simultaneously opening the fridge and began to speak rapidly in a southern accented voice.
"Whose big ole shoes are those on the back porch? I know they aren't Alan's 'cause that man has little feet. When is Gily coming home? Did you finish your paper? How was the conference? Did I tell you that my dissertation committee says I'm a go? Brad still hasn't called me back but we didn't expect him to."
He had pulled out a loaf of bread and was constructing a sandwich that looked like something Dagwood would eat in the Sunday comics.
Gil watched in amusement from the couch. The young man was taking a huge bite when he saw Gil. He mumbled something as he stared openly. Gil stood and moved counter where the dark haired man stood. Gil shook the young man's hand.
"Damn. What did you do clone Gily?" He took a smaller bite. "Those your shoes on the back porch?" He looked from Sara to Gil. Gil had an urge to cover his private parts.
"I'm Gil Grissom and you are?"
"Gil Grissom, the Gil Grissom who wrote the single most definitive guide to entomology. Shit!" Dean Martin turned on Sara. "Diva how dare you hold out on me. It's the quiet ones I tell you."
"You've read my book…"
"Sorry I'm Roland, Sara's assistant. Of course I've read your book. Who hasn't read your book?"
"Science geek?"
Roland presented a row of even teeth. "Pursuing my PhD in Forensic Biology."
He pointed to his plate. "You want a sandwich?"
"Sure."
Sara looked from one man to another. "You never make me sandwiches and I pay you."
"Drink your coffee beside he's cuter than you."
Grissom gave Sara a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
Gil watched as he moved his about the kitchen. "So who's Alan?"
Sara had hoped he's missed that part of his Roland's tirade. She should have known that Gil Grissom would not have missed one word. It wasn't quite fair for men like Gil to have all their senses in working order.
Gil watched appreciatively as Roland slathered mayonnaise on a thick slice of what appeared to be homemade bread. "Trifling boy Sara was dating." He stopped mid slather and looked at Gil. "You made him go away right?"
Gil looked at Sara. He was enjoying her discomfort. "Did I?"
Sara ducked the bullet. "We weren't dating."
"Diva you might not have been dating him but he was dating you. Dr. Grissom he is as tired as wet wilted lettuce."
Sara looked at her star struck assistant. "He get's Dr. Grissom and I get Diva?"
Roland held up a hand in a stop sign motion. "In my world Diva is an honor. This man has written the only book I keep on my night stand besides the Bible passed down from my sainted Nana, God rest her precious soul." Something occurred to Roland. "Will you sign my copy?"
Gil bit into his sandwich and sipped the lemonade that Roland had poured for him. "So tell me about Alan."
They leaned their heads together like old friends. Sara was not sure how she had lost control of the situation but she had.
"Well his name is Alan Rosenthall. He's actually my department chair. He is a pompous blow heart and I'm convinced the only reason he hasn't run my cute ass out of the program is because I work for Sara. He doesn't like my work because I've disproven several of his so-called theories. He would drink Sara's bathwater if she let him." He took a sip from his on glass and smiled wickedly. "He also has tiny feet. You ever seen a man over 6 feet who wears a size 9 shoe?"
Gil ate merrily.