Caving Under Pressure – Part 3
August 3, 2005 (Day 103)
The Grissoms'
12:43 p.m.
Unsure how to make things right, Sara remained frozen in the bathroom, listening to the disheartening sounds coming from the bedroom…Grissom opening his closet, changing into street clothes and walking out of the room.
Sinking to the floor, she sat against the cabinets. He's leaving and I don't blame him. There are lines not to be crossed, not even when fighting and I didn't accidentally step over the line, I intentionally ran over it. His statement about my mother had context. My statement about his father had malice.
Wrapping her arms around her knees, she lowered her head and waited for the next predicted sounds…him walking down the hall and out the door, followed by the sound of the garage door opening, his car leaving and the garage door closing.
Like clockwork, each of the sounds happened and now all she had left to listen to was painful silence.
To avoid the silence, Sara started talking to her conscience, which was thankfully more sober than her mouth.
Now I realize it started because he was worried about me but at the time I got defensive. Why did I get so defensive? Oh please! I know why, aside from being drunk and therefore reactionary, there was truth to what he said.
Does he know the DUI wasn't the only time I got drunk and drove under the influence? Did Brass tell him? The DUI was just the only time I got caught. I've never done it since and I wouldn't have done it today. I would have realized I couldn't drive two seconds after I said it but he jumped down my throat in that accusatory tone and set me off before I had a chance. He should have more faith in me! Of course, when I'm standing in front of him looped and spouting nonsense about Petals the Yorkshire Terrier, I suppose I gave him reason to be concerned. Fine, he was right on this point.
At least I was right about him being a hypocrite regarding my drinking. He can't have it both ways! He can't enjoy me inebriated when it suits him. Well…I suppose his point would be that in the limo we were both having fun and we weren't driving, which is a lot different than drinking to forget a problem and recklessly getting behind the wheel. Damn, he gets this one too. Unless of course, he believes I am an alcoholic then he shouldn't approve of, or encourage me to drink ever. But he doesn't think that, he's just concerned I could become one because of family history and all the stress I'm under. So he still gets the point. That's two for him, none for me.
The other hypocrisy example I cited was a joke…absolutely apples to oranges. His foray at Lady Heather's didn't have the potential to harm others like my mistake. Well, if it had interfered with ultimately solving the case, one could argue that the victim would suffer because of his choice, but still, it's a far cry from driving your car drunk and potentially killing innocent people or like Greg and Tawny's, letting a lapse in judgment bring an innocent baby into the world…or if they choose, end a baby's chance of coming into the world. Yeah, no contest, he gets this one too.
He didn't fight well and I didn't fight fair. Not a surprise I suppose considering our exposure to nasty marital arguments in our respective childhood homes. If he has to be like a father, better to be like his and flee when the going gets rough, rather than be like mine and get violent.
Closing her eyes, Sara decided to focus on how to make things right. What can I do? Maybe once the vodka is purged from my bloodstream I'll be able to think more clearly.
And while she was contemplating and getting nowhere, she heard all the disheartening sounds she experienced earlier, but in reverse…the garage door opening, the car return, the garage door closing, the house door opening and footsteps down the hall.
Her heart quickened as she realized he was coming back. However, since she was unsure of his reason for returning, and frightened it wouldn't be good, she stayed put.
As soon as he appeared in the doorway holding a Walgreens bag, her eyes watered. "You…"
"Don't say a word until I'm done talking." He demanded in a curt tone. For he was certain if he didn't get it all out without interruption, he'd lose his way.
She nodded, fully prepared to bite off her tongue if necessary.
"First of all, I want you to know emphatically, I'm not my father." With conviction, he reached into the plastic shopping bag and slapped the box of tampons on the counter. "My father, who really was an asshole, would have bolted for the county line, not Walgreens."
Sara covered her mouth so she wouldn't start blurting a flurry of I love yous and I'm so sorrys.
"Secondly, I'd like to point out that I knew exactly which ones to buy without asking because I'm an observant guy who pays attention to his wife's needs."
Not finished, he reached into the bag and produced two Snickers bars. "Which brings me to my third point…you really are bitchy when you're craving chocolate and don't have any." He smacked the bars on the counter next to the box. "If you think I'm going to put up with this kind of behavior for nine months while you're pregnant, you can forget it. No, I won't tolerate it, so I'm going to have cases of chocolate in the pantry available to you at all times."
Feeling close to the verge of blurting, Sara put her second hand over her mouth.
Tossing the empty bag, he folded his arms. "And lastly, when you feel the need to prove me a hypocrite by pointing out my greatest lapse in judgment, at least get it right. My greatest lapse in judgment was in Tahoe, the day I abandoned you at the hospital. That day…I was an asshole. Today, I was just concerned and not expressing myself well." Inhaling sharply, he said, "Because I didn't give you an opportunity to curse me out in Tahoe, I'm willing to take your nasty comment from today and apply it to when you had every right to say it to me. That being said, we'll call it even."
Taking a deep breath, he uncrossed his arms and quietly said, "I'm done talking. So if you have something to say go ahead."
Removing her hands from over her mouth, she softly said, "Thank you, for the Tampax and the Snickers, but most of all, for the empathy."
"You're welcome." He breathed out.
Overwhelming guilt and love joined forces and powered her voice. "When I made that horrible comparison between you and your father, immediately after, I said I didn't mean it. You asked if I didn't mean it or if I didn't mean to say it out loud." She paused to wipe her tears. "The answer is…I meant to say it out loud, in that I was looking for something terribly hurtful to say to you and I chose my words carefully."
Lowering his eyes to the floor, he dealt with her comment. Even though it pained him to know she could be so calculating, he appreciated her honesty.
Sniffling, she continued, "But please know, I was being truthful when I said I didn't mean it. I don't for a second believe you're anything like your father. You're a fantastic husband who knows I love Snickers and prefer Tampax Pearl and one day, preferably soon, you're going to be a great father to our child."
Lifting his gaze, he reconnected with hers.
"I know you said we'll call it even but I still want to say, I'm sorry for what I said and for being such a witch." Nervously laughing she said, "I blame the company I'm keeping on day shift. I think Nina Bitch is rubbing off on me. Wait…maybe it's because I took her fifty cents to buy my tampon. You know…like a deal with the devil. She possessed me in the Ladies Room."
"Then by all means get rid of Nina's contribution and return to your normal loving self." Grabbing the box off the counter, he tossed it to her.
After catching the box, she burst out laughing. "Can I have a hug?"
"Only if I can have one back." Bending over, he took her hand and pulled her up and into his arms. "Come here."
Their eyes closed, they clung to each other, both grateful for surviving their first marital argument.
Finally, Sara whispered, "Honey, how long are you going to beat yourself up over Tahoe?"
Smoothing his hands over her back, he sighed. "That day in your apartment, when I was begging for another chance, I told you I'd spend the rest of my life making it up to you and…"
The unexpected ring of their doorbell interrupted the conversation.
"Who could that be?" Grissom wondered.
Still holding her box of supplies, Sara shook it and said, "Why don't you get the door while I end the evil hold Nina has over me?"
Before leaving, he grabbed a kiss. "Put on your pajamas so we can curl up in bed." Exhaustion was catching up with him again and he hoped, after talking for a little while, they could sleep in each other's arms.
Her smile was back. "Sounds like a plan." She knew he needed to get some rest and looked forward to drifting off to sleep with him.
On the way to the front door, Grissom shook the last of the tension remaining in his body while pondering Sara's question… how long are you going to beat yourself up over Tahoe? Sometimes it still felt like he was living on borrowed time. That he'd wake up one day and realize that it was all a dream and she had done what any other woman would have done, told him to go to hell and slammed the door in his face for being such an asshole. Hell, I missed a date with Terri Miller and she barely ever spoke to me again. I messed up with Lady Heather and she turned her back without accepting my apology. When I think of how I treated Sara for years and, most of all, how I abandoned her in Tahoe, I know that Jim is absolutely right…I don't deserve her. Every moment of happiness I've experienced has been based on her overwhelming generosity and unfathomable forgiveness, so I guess the answer to her question is a resounding never.
At the door, he glanced through the peep hole and saw Greg…but it wasn't the animated Greg he knew. The Greg on the porch was a shell of a man who looked like he just had the life sucked out of him.
When the door opened, Greg bristled, "Oh…uh…I was expecting you to be asleep and thought Sara would answer. She told me I could…sorry if I…uh… woke you."
"It's okay. I wasn't sleeping." He motioned for Greg to step inside. "I know Sara said she was expecting a call from you, so come on in. She's uh…taking care of something. I'll let her know you're here."
After taking one step forward, Greg balked. "You know…I don't want to disturb you guys, so I think I'll just go."
"Get in the house, Greg." Grissom ordered, knowing the guy needed Sara's support. "It's a big place, you can talk to her privately or, if it makes you feel better, I'll go for a drive."
Reluctantly, he stepped inside. "She told you, didn't she?"
"She didn't mean to tell me." He shut the door. "She got emotional about something else and blurted it out."
In silence, they walked down the hall.
"You want a drink?" Grissom asked when they were standing in the open area between the living room and the kitchen.
Noting the orange juice and vodka on the kitchen island, Greg said, "Maybe it would make me stop shaking."
"I'll make you one." He walked into the kitchen. "Have a seat."
While Greg slid onto a stool at the island, Grissom grabbed a glass and filled it with ice.
"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked as he mixed the drink.
With his head hung low, he replied, "Earlier, but it's not in my stomach anymore."
Sensing Greg's mortification was rapidly escalating, Grissom put the glass on the counter and said, "Not a single one of us on the team, myself included, hasn't made at least one significant personal blunder in our lives. We're all human, Greg, and by nature we sometimes get irrational or irresponsible and make mistakes in our personal lives…some small, some huge. This isn't going to make me think less of you as a CSI."
"Really?" He asked while slowly lifting his head.
With strong eye contact and a firm nod, he assured him. "Really."
Relaxing slightly, Greg asked, "Could you make that a double?"
"Sure."
Sara, having grown impatient, hustled into the living room wearing her extra comfy sky blue sateen pajamas. "What were they selling at the door? We're supposed to be having our we're all better pajama party!" Then she saw Greg sitting at the counter. "Oh." The poor guy looked mentally and physically drained.
"I tried to call your cell," He hastily explained," but you didn't answer. You said you'd be home, so I just drove here."
"Sorry." Walking over to the counter, she greeted him with a warm smile. "I left my phone out here in the kitchen while I was in the bathroom for a while…taking a shower. Grissom was asleep in the bedroom, that's why he didn't hear it." It was all very plausible.
Sliding Greg's drink across the counter, Grissom asked the nervous-wreck of man sitting in front of him, "Tell me honestly, as a CSI, do you believe Sara's story?"
"Uh…" Greg took a moment to sip his cocktail and consider his answer. "No. Not for a minute."
"Why not?" The boss inquired.
"You told me you weren't sleeping and because you're fully dressed including shoes, I believe you." Then he turned to Sara. "Your hair is a wreck and dry, plus you don't smell like soap, so you haven't been in the shower."
Grissom smiled proudly. "Very good. Now what do you really think was going on here?"
Sara stood listening, not sure why her usually private husband was inviting Greg to pry into their personal life.
"Uh…" Again he took a sip and wondered how he should respond. "Well…honestly?"
"Honestly, as if you were processing."
It felt nice to be in work mode and forget the weight on his shoulders for a moment. "Okay. Well…because I've established Sara lied about you sleeping, I know she's covering something." He took another close look at the woman standing quietly next to him. "I noticed when she first walked in here, her eyes were red and puffy, which tells me she's been crying. So I ask myself, what kind of tears? When she came in here she was happy and said you were going to have a we're all better pajama party. My theory is the two of you had a heated argument. I think you left the house, that's why you're dressed and your shoes are on, but you came back, made up, and everything is okay now…hence the we're all better pajama party."
"Very good, Greg." Grissom reached across the counter and patted him on the shoulder. "You're very good at your job and everyone is human, even Sara and I."
For the first time that morning, Greg's lips hinted at the faintest smile. "Thank you for that."
"Always teaching." Sara shook her head.
He nodded. "I'll be in the library while the two of you talk."
"You can stay." Greg announced. "Actually I…I'd like you to stay. I could really use a man's opinion. I can't call my dad about this and you're someone I respect so…"
It was nice to be needed. "Okay." Glancing at Sara he said, "You haven't eaten anything today, have you? Greg's stomach is empty and he needs something to go with the drink so how about I cook while we talk?"
"I'd love a burger," Greg blurted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'll eat whatever you throw at me. It's just greasy burgers have always settled my stomach…it's my hangover cure."
"Yeah well…fat chance." Grissom grinned at Sara as he opened the fridge. "Hamburger is forbidden in this house."
"Before we talk, do you mind if I use your bathroom?"
Sara nodded. "You know where it is, you passed out in it the last time you were here, puke boy." She grinned. "That's my way of making you feel more comfortable."
"Thanks." Greg appreciated the effort.
Once they were alone, Sara glared at her husband. "Trotting out our argument to make a point?"
As he cracked eggs in a white ceramic bowl, he explained, "You heard him. It's not like we were hiding it well. Besides, reinforcing my point was only one goal. My overarching concern was making him feel comfortable with me when he was mortified. He's under enough stress without having to add to it." Glancing up from his task, he raised his brows, "Jim Brass finds it effective to take everyone out and get plastered to the point of blackout to get past awkwardness. I thought I'd try a little honesty, one drink and some eggs."
"I like your method better." Coming up behind him, she slipped her arms around his waist. "When I came home, I had really bad cramps. I didn't have anything to take for it in my purse and you were sleeping. I didn't want to disturb you by tearing apart the bathroom so I made myself a stiff drink…old fashioned Ibuprofen."
"You don't have to explain…"
"Wait. That's why I had the first drink. I had the second because the first one felt good and was making me forget my problems. I would have had a third if I didn't drop the box of silverware and wake you." Laying her head on his back, she quietly asked, "Do you think that's a problem?"
Turning to face her, he searched for the right words. "I…I think…I don't think you have a problem because, since we've been together, you've only drank excessively a few times and, since you've been trying to get pregnant, you haven't drank at all. A person with a problem can't suddenly stop. However, with that said…" Taking a deep breath, he forged on. "I believe the potential to have a problem exists within you. I think it would only manifest if you didn't have anywhere else to turn in a time of serious need but, you have a husband who loves you, you have Dr. Myers available to you, and you have friends who care. You have a support system, so you don't need a bottle."
"I didn't always have a support system."
"I know." Reaching out his ran his fingers over her cheek. "And I understand what that can do to a person. That's why it was important to make Greg know he has one, right? We don't need him making any more bad choices."
"Right." Swallowing hard, she nodded, knowing they had just discussed a lot more than they verbalized. "Since I'm the only one wearing pajamas to this party, I'm going to change."
"Brunch will be ready when you return." He headed back to the fridge. "Cheddar and mushrooms in the omelet, toast with butter on the side."
Her smile fully restored, she kept walking and replied, "You really are an observant guy who pays attention to his wife's needs."
Even though she was already around the corner he yelled, "And you really are much more agreeable now that you're no longer under Nina Birch's control!"
As he exited the guest bathroom, Greg saw Sara laughing. "I could use a laugh. What's so funny?"
"Grissom made an inside joke." Then she thought about the accidental play on words and cracked up.
"Okaaay." He left her in the hallway and returned to the kitchen.
When Grissom saw Greg, he noted a little more color had returned to his face. "Feeling a little better?"
Returning to his stool, he replied, "The juice is good for my low blood sugar. The vodka is good for my frazzled nerves. The company is good for my decaying sanity."
"What do you want in your omelet?"
After swallowing his drink, he joked, "I suppose ham is out of the question."
"Let's get this straight. If it ever walked, it's not allowed in the kitchen." Grissom wiped his hands on a dishrag, then tossed it over his shoulder.
"Whatever Sara is having is fine." Still in avoidance mode, he took another swig of his drink and commented, "So, she never eats meat, but you still eat meat, just not in your own home?"
"It's a small price to pay to keep the peace." Chopping Sara's mushrooms, he smiled. "But don't feel too bad for me, there's a big fridge in the bug room and she never goes in there." Turning to the stove, he flipped a burner on and grabbed a skillet from the overhead pot rack.
"Clever. You can always blame the bugs if you get caught fulfilling a carnivorous craving because bugs eat meat. My dad smokes cigars on the sly from my mom." Suddenly Greg's voice flooded with apprehension. "So, uh…this marriage thing…aside from whatever happened before I arrived, it seems to be working for the two of you. What are the positives?"
Pouring the mushrooms into the heating pan drizzled with oil, Grissom remarked, "From your question, I assume Tawny is adamant about keeping the baby?"
"When I asked if she ever considered terminating the pregnancy, she hyperventilated." Polishing off his drink he slouched. "I was just bringing it up. I'm not sure it's something I would have been comfortable with either, but now I don't have to think about it because it's her choice and she said no way."
Changed into a pair of black lounge pants and a grey tank shirt, Sara took a seat next to Greg. "What about adoption? There are plenty of great people waiting for babies."
"As scared as I am, I couldn't have a kid out in the world and not know him." Greg lowered his head. "I still can't believe this is happening. I keep hoping I'll wake up."
Sara patted him on the back. "I'm proud of you for not running away from the problem. It takes a strong man to stick around when the going gets rough."
Her words weren't lost on the cook who was retrieving toast and ready to ask the burning question. "Greg, how sure are you that it's your baby?"
Shaking his head, he groaned, "DNA is my thing, right. One sample and I'd know for sure, but the problem is, as I'm sure you're aware, you can't safely obtain the baby's DNA until after it's born."
Grissom placed the two plates on the island. "So, you have a choice. You can remain uninvolved for nine months hedging a bet that the baby isn't yours and risk feeling guilty if you turn out to be the father or, you can be involved and emotionally invested for nine months assuming the baby is yours, while knowing there is a possibility you'll find out it isn't when it's born."
"Exactly." He stuck his fork in the eggs, but didn't attempt to break a piece off. "But we were together every day since we met and she works two jobs. She says she wasn't with anyone else." He saw the skeptical looks on their faces. "I know…I know…she still had plenty of opportunity, so let's stick with the evidence. Her blood test showed 25 mlU….which means she got pregnant during the time I was with her, not before, that alone is enough to make me not turn my back. Plus…in my gut, I don't think she's lying."
After a minute, Grissom asked, "Did you tell her that you really don't have a trust fund and the truth is, most weeks you're broke?"
Sara, who was inhaling her food until now, lowered her fork. "Greg, why would she think you had a trust fund? Hasn't she been to your apartment?"
"It was part of the line Grissom told me to feed her when I wanted to get lucky. He said, and I remember this verbatim, tell her… My ex-girlfriend was a stripper. I loved her something awful but she dumped me because I liked watching romantic movies. I thought my generous trust fund would have been enough to keep her around but I guess money doesn't matter to some women. Gosh, I'm so lonely." After he said it, he knew he shouldn't have. It was the vodka on an empty stomach talking.
"What?" She glared at her husband. "Those were your words? You encouraged him to lie to a girl to get laid! Do I know you?" Stunned by the revelation, she continued ranting. "You were playing Cyrano to get Greg a date with a stripper while you were working a case?"
"No, we were done working the case and Greg was on a ten minute break."
"Well, at least we cleared that up." She huffed. "Now all we have left are the skuzzy moral implications."
"Looks like I screwed up again." Greg hung his head in shame for breaking 'the guy code' of what happens in the strip club, stays in the strip club. "Sorry boss…I think I just got you in trouble with the boss."
"Not now, Greg." Grissom made his plea to Sara. "Honey…you have to understand…before you explode, let me provide some context." Straightening up, he said, "I told you I was at the Cheesecake Factory watching Pretty Woman when I met Tawny. She said she loved that type of movie, she also liked the fact that I had a Bvlgari jewelry bag and told me she'd work for cash. So, I told Greg a little inside information to increase the odds of her saying yes to a date."
"Did I miss the part where you explained why it's okay to lie to a woman in order to get her to go out with you?"
"Thanks for the eggs and the drink." Greg decided it would be best to beat it.
"Freeze!" Sara grabbed him by the elbow. "You're not going anywhere, because you just downed a glass of vodka on an empty stomach after being awake for almost twenty four hours. I wouldn't be a very responsible person if I let you drive. So sit down!"
Cowering, he returned to his stool. "Whoa, being on the receiving end of the Sara Sidle dominatrix smack down isn't as much as fun as watching you give it to Lady Heather."
Grissom, brought his hand to his head thinking, thanks for bringing that up. "Sara, I don't think it's okay to lie to a woman to get a date. It's not something I ever did. If I had, I'm sure I would have had more dates, because being myself was a real turn off to most women. That's what so wonderful about you, Honey, you love me for who I am."
"Whoa." She couldn't believe her ears. "You really must be worried you pissed me off, for you to say that in front of Greg."
"Absolutely!" He leaned over the counter and pleaded his case. "Think of the context, Tawny just offered herself to me, making it clear, the only reason she was interested in me was for my wallet so I wasn't that concerned about offending her. Besides, Greg had just saved your life…I wanted to help him get a date as a way of thanking him." Facing Greg, he snipped, "But not for a moment did I think he'd sleep with her without protection."
Deciding it was a good enough explanation and that she didn't want to bicker anymore than they already had today, Sara sighed. "I absolve you from any wrongdoing, Honey." She grabbed a piece of toast and chomped off a bite. "So now answer the question, Greg. Did you clear up the misunderstanding?"
"The next day because I felt guilty." He smiled. "I was surprised that she still wanted to see me after she learned I was broke but, she said she didn't care because she liked me and I didn't treat her like a second-class citizen just because she stripped to make ends meet."
Grissom, relieved to have made it out of the hot seat, set about tidying the kitchen.
"So you slept with her under false pretenses first, because you didn't want to mess up the booty call, then you confessed. What a gentleman."
"Well…yeah, but I think we've already established I wasn't thinking clearly that night."
After swallowing her last bite of toast, Sara drew her conclusion. "Then the baby is yours unless she was with another guy poorer than you."
Grissom interjected, "Did you tell her about DNA testing and that you would expect a paternity test after the baby is born?"
"I did. She said she understood why I would wonder if I was the father and that she would be happy to have the baby tested to prove its mine."
"Well then." Sara pushed her empty plate away. "Congratulations, Greg. You're having a baby."
"Greg, you and I need to get some sleep," Grissom announced then quickly clarified his statement. "Not together…I meant before shift."
"Yeah, I'm exhausted." Greg slid off the stool. "Can I crash on your couch?"
"Sure." Grissom started down the hall. "Try to get some rest because it's Sofia's day off and I need you awake for shift."
Before leaving to join her husband in the bedroom, Sara made sure her impromptu guest would be comfortable. "You have everything you need…blanket, pillow, remote, oh and look." Making a selection from her pile of pregnancy books on the coffee table, she said, "Reading material." She tossed the book on the couch. "There is a whole section for fathers-to-be."
He grabbed the book and fell back against the brown velvet pillow. "Thanks for listening and for helping me through this."
"Anytime." Smiling, she held out her hand. "Keys please. I don't want you bolting in an hour and wrapping your car around a tree to shirk your responsibility."
"Not gonna happen." He relinquished them and grabbed the remote. "Don't let me oversleep because the boss will get ticked if I'm late."
"The boss will see you on the couch and drag you out the door." When she was halfway across the room she stopped to give one last piece of advice. "Stay away from Animal Planet, Discovery Health and TLC…they're all baby central."
On the way to the bedroom, it hit her. Greg is going to be a parent before I am. Damn! I wish I had bet Catherine on that one! I would have cleaned up.
When she arrived at her destination, Grissom was already stripped down to his boxers and in bed.
"Aren't you going to shut the door?" He asked when Sara strolled in and directly over to the bed.
"What if our kid wakes up in the middle of the night screaming? We won't hear him." Grinning, she slid under the covers and faced him. "Besides, you're not getting lucky today, so he won't catch us in the act."
"No offense, but I'm exhausted and grateful for the evening off."
"Me too!" Sweetly, she laughed. "A mandatory daily schedule is a bit grueling."
"So, instead of make-up sex, what do you suggest?"
"I know!" She snuggled closer and facetiously said, "We'll play your favorite game…we'll each share one thing we don't know about each other."
"Great." His voice reflected his dread. "You do recall me mentioning I am exhausted, right? You want to mentally drain me as well?"
"Since we're too tired to get heavy, we can only ask a light question." Propping on her elbow, she generously made an offer. "You can ask me first. Something silly you want to know."
Smoothing his hand over his beard, he desperately tried to think of something. "Hmm…oh…okay. What did you first think when you saw I grew a beard?"
"Oh man." She rolled onto her back and laughed. "Well, you had been gone for days without saying where you were going. That's when you were recovering from your ear surgery."
"And that's why the beard grew in and when it did, I thought what the hell, I'll keep it."
Gleefully she recalled the moment. "Okay, so I'm missing you like crazy wondering when you'll show up. I arrive for shift and see Nick. He tells me you're in your office." Rolling her eyes, she groaned, "Because, of course, he knows I have a thing for you and apparently I wasn't masking my angst very well. Anyway, I play it cool with Nick but, as soon as he's gone, I hurry to your office prepared to ask you some heady question about a case. I have the question in my head ready to fire and, when I knock on your door, you glance up and I see the beard. My brain goes blank as now I am lusting after you even more than I was before."
Reflecting back, he recalled the moment. "I remember that. You showed up at my door and I was thrilled to see you. Of course I didn't tell you that nor reflect it in any way, no, I sat there waiting for you to say something but you didn't say a thing."
"Because everything I was thinking was totally unshareable!" Giggling, she cited some examples. "Like…Honey, how about coming over here and letting me feel those whiskers up close and personal. Or…as the minutes passed and I got more excited…I wonder what that beard would feel like sliding over my red hot bod that's aching for you, Baby!"
He laughed with her. "That would have thrown me."
"Which reminds me of another thought I had at the time…get a grip, Sara! You can't keep throwing yourself at the man! He rejected you! Get over it. Just because he has a beard now doesn't make him less of an ass!"
"I presume that after that thought was when you said, Nick told me you were back. Were you gone?"
"Smooth, huh?"
"Definitely effective at making me feel like a bigger loser than I already was for shooting you down." Pulling her close, he consumed her with a kiss. "Okay, your turn to ask a question."
"I'll be very easy on you. Tell me about your first roller coaster ride." Immediately she saw emotion in his eyes.
Caught off guard by the question, his mouth opened, but words didn't follow.
"I'm sensing this isn't an easy, silly question."
"No." Rolling on his back, he stared at the ceiling.
"Then you don't have to answer it." Snuggling up to his side, she whispered, "Let's just get some sleep." Gently, she laid her arm across his chest and closed her eyes.
A few minutes later, he softly said, "After my parents divorce, I rarely saw my father because every time he came around, my mother got very emotional."
Upon hearing his words and the vulnerability in his voice, her eyes opened.
"Eventually, instead of bringing over child support checks and taking me out for an afternoon, he started mailing the checks and I never saw him. He'd call every once in a while and when he did, he never failed to remind me it was my mother's fault I didn't see him more. When I was on the phone, I'd have to lie to my mother and tell her it was a sales call because, if she knew it was him, she'd blow up about him not coming to see me."
Sara, sensing he needed to tell the story without distraction, remained silent and conveyed her support only through a gentle caress of his arm.
"It was the Sunday before my ninth birthday and I was in the front yard collecting bugs." Reaching out, he took Sara's hand and held it against his chest. "You probably find that hard to believe."
Since she was invited to speak and his tone had lightened slightly, she sweetly teased, "I'm shocked."
"Anyway, my father shows up out of the blue and tells me he wants to take me out for the day…an early birthday present. Of course, I'm thrilled, but I know if my mom saw him it would be a disaster so I tell him to wait in the car and I go inside and tell my mother my pal Johnny invited me over for the day." After exhaling deeply, he said, "So I guess I did lie to a woman to get a date…I lied to my mother to get a date with my father."
"She believed you?"
"Yes, which shows you how in tune she was with my life, I didn't have a pal named Johnny." He shrugged. "It was probably wishful thinking on her part because I didn't have any friends. In any case, the ruse worked and I got in my dad's car all ready for an adventure."
"Your first roller coaster, I presume."
His tone reflected the boyish enthusiasm of the story. "He took me to the beach, to go to the amusement park and we had the greatest time playing games, eating junk, the whole nine yards There I was out in the world, doing things I didn't normally get to do. I was talking, not signing, which was a treat, and I was with my dad and he was making sure I had the greatest time. We had done the whole park except for The Dipper because I was scared. My dad told me that if I gave it a shot, he'd buy me whatever toy I wanted on the way back home."
"Bribery…I'm surprised you succumbed."
"Well…there was this microscope I was dying to get."
For the first time, she lifted her head and looking into his eyes, she flashed a brilliant smile. "I should have known."
Tucking her hair behind her ear, he said in a broken whisper, "When I want something bad enough, eventually I can overcome even the deepest fear."
Stroking his cheek, she quietly prompted him. "Tell me the rest of the story."
"Even though I was terrified, I got on the ride." Suddenly his face lit up. "The whole way up the first hill I was sure I was going to pass out. We kept going higher and higher and people were getting smaller, but as soon as we took that first plunge…I was hooked. Nothing in my life was exciting, but for ninety seconds I was in another world full of dips and turns. By the time the ride ended, my heart was racing and I never felt more alive. I begged my dad to do it again and he complied. We rode it five times."
She enjoyed the happiness dancing in his eyes. "So it was a great day."
"The best."
"Did you get the microscope?"
"On the way home, as promised." As quickly as it had appeared on his face, the joy disappeared. "I didn't know at the time the day was all one big parting gift."
Feeling his pain, Sara said, "It was the last time you saw him."
"When we returned to the neighborhood, he parked around the corner from my house and dropped the bomb. He had gotten married six months before to a widow with two small children. He had a new family. As if that wasn't hard enough, he informed me they were moving out of the country because he got transferred. He said he'd call and when the transfer assignment was over he'd come get me again for another day of fun." His voice faded as the betrayal was recalled. "But that never happened. The child support payments kept coming, but the calls didn't, and I never saw him again. To him I was just another monthly bill to be paid. When I was headed for college, my mom gave me a large check from him. That's when I made a decision. I tore it up, sent it back to the address on the envelope with a note that said his obligation was over, and I never expected or wanted to hear from him again. He complied."
Suddenly, on a random afternoon, in response to what she thought was an insignificant question, she got the last and biggest piece of the Gil Grissom puzzle and the picture for the first time ever was in perfect focus. "It's always been about this." Startled by the revelation, she sat straight up in bed.
"What has?" He sat up next to her.
"Your biggest fear...the reason it took so long for us to get together…why you kept telling me to get a life but when I did you got angry…the reason you still have doubts today…it's never been about ME! Oh my god…your words that day in the interrogation room make perfect sense now." Breathless from the significance, she recounted his words from that day. "She offers a new life with her, but we have a decision to make…because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her. I couldn't do it…but you did, and she gave you a wonderful life, but then she took it away and gave it to somebody else and you were lost." Taking his hand, she explained, "It's always been about your fear of being shown the greatest joy, and then having the person who showed it to you, without warning, take it away from you and give it to someone else. It's always been about his betrayal…your belief that people will lie to you…your inability to trust others…you fear of loving me."
"I…" After taking a minute to process what she said, he realized she was right. "I never really tied it back to that one experience but…what you're saying makes sense."
"In therapy we call this a breakthrough." Overjoyed, she threw her arms around him, tackling him against the sheets. "I love you!"
"Whose breakthrough was it?" He asked while being smothered.
"Mine, yours and ours." She covered his mouth with an eager kiss until she ran out of air. "I feel so free!"
"I'm catching up." Grinning, he said, "Ask me what my favorite roller coaster ride is."
Straddling him, she excitedly asked, "What's your favorite roller coaster ride, Honey?"
"The one I'm on with you."