"Second Chances - Part 3"

August 7, 2005 (Day 107)
The Grissoms'
12:30 p.m.

Gripping the handle of the phone, Sara asked, "You're calling from your cell. Where are you?" Her heart raced as she considered the possibility he was around the corner. The last thing she wanted was for Gil to be blindsided by his father's presence. There was so much more to his parents' story than he knew and although she felt he needed to know the information, it needed to be presented in the right way…at the right time.

"I'm in my car driving Greggy home from the police station. He decided to break Hodges's nose in the bar of the Squash Blossom Restaurant and then the two of them held a wrestling match on the floor. They got hauled in by Las Vegas's Finest for Disturbing the Peace. Needless to say my stress level is running high this morning. Luckily Greg isn't going to be charged with Assault so he gets to keep his job."

"Wait. What?" She glanced over and saw Ron wandering around the house. "Why were they fighting?"

"You're well-read and watch romance movies. What usually causes a man lose his mind and snap?"

"Um…a woman?"

"Hodges insulted Tawny's character so Greg popped him."

When she saw Ron turn and go down the hall, she gasped. "Um…you know I…can you hold on for a moment?"

"Honey? Are you okay? You sound a little weird. Kind of jittery."

"I'm just worried about Greg." It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the only truth.

"He's fine. Here, you can talk to him."

"Thanks for worrying about me, Sis. My face is a little messed up, that's all."

"Okay."

"Okay?" He guffawed into the phone. "That was the perfect set up for you to make a joke about my hair! You know…now your face will match your messed up hair, Greg. I think Gris is right, you don't sound normal. Are you doing that special health regimen again? Here's your hubby."

"I was um…sleeping when you called," Sara informed him while she wondered where Ron went. "Guess I'm a little slow on the uptake. So um…when are you going to be home?"

"After I drop off the light-weight champion of The Squash Blossom, I'll head back to the office for more paperwork fun. I'll probably leave there around five and come home for a pre-shift power nap, some dinner and…well I can't say because Greg's ears weren't damaged in the fight."

"Okay." She checked her watch. That left plenty of time to get the rest of the Grissom family history and get Ron out of the house. "I'll make you something healthy for dinner."

"Isn't that an oxymoron since your cooking has been known to cause illness?"

Through the receiver, she heard Gil and Greg laughing. "Very funny." Normally she would have laughed but the tension surging through her prevented such a carefree response. "Call me when you're on your way."

"Will do."

"Honey…" Her voice trembled. "I love you."

"I'm always happy to hear that and you know my opinion on the matter."

"Yes, I do." A nervous smile twittered across her lips. "Bye."

"Bye."

Grissom's Car
12:35 p.m.

"Okay, Greg…find your station," Grissom kept his promise. "We'll listen on the way to Walgreen's to get your first aid supplies and ibuprofen. On the way back, I choose."

Greg happily obliged. "It's oldies day." He tuned the radio and cranked the volume. "Okay Double D…this is Jurassic 5 and the song is called Improvise."

"This is an oldie?" Grissom quizzed as he reluctantly listened to the rap song. "I don't recall rap being around in the old days."

"Well this song is from the 90's, but the group is pure 1970's rhyme-style…pre-hip-hop craze. Here's another music history tidbit for your continuing education…in the 70s, rhyme-style rap was wack and only found on the streets. Then the Sugar Hill Gang released Rapper's Delight and suddenly hip-hop was thrust into the spotlight. At first everyone said the craze would be short lived but it's 2005 and it hasn't died yet."

"Yeah…that's very unfortunate." Grissom groaned. "The metric system didn't catch on, but this stuff did. Unbelievable."

"And you claim to be a lover of poetry?" Greg scoffed, "Rap is the poetry of a different generation. Could you for once open your mind to alternative forms of music? Listen to the words…"

Who is he, the subtle lip fanatic from unity…demonstrating that ghetto diplomatic immunity…well I'm the style stimulant, sound photosynthesis... super wit the sentences in the land of citrus.

"Ahh yes…reminds me of a Shakespearian sonnet."

Grooving on Grissom's lack of tolerance, Greg rapped along for the final verse. "And together we show you how to improvise…reminiscent of the wild style 75…'cause it's the brothers on the mike in the place to be…It's the J-U-R-A double S-I-C."

"I have to say, I really prefer my wife singing to me," Grissom informed his tone-deaf passenger as he turned down the volume on the radio.

"Sara sings to you, huh?" Greg wiggled his bruised brows. "That's cool."

"It's one of her many talents." His smile expanded as he considered some of the others.

"My girlfriend has hidden talents too," He boasted.

"I really don't want to hear the details and I'm rather disappointed you're still sharing them after..."

"She's a math genius."

"Really? Now that does interest me." Grissom was expecting to hear something much different. "Wait…she did tell me her father was a math teacher. It must be one of the things she inherited from him. She spoke very highly of him. It was obvious his loss impacted her in so many ways."

Sobering, Greg said, "On the way to brunch this morning she told me the story she told you…about her mom's boyfriend."

"Hard to hear, huh?" He sighed. "You know, if that bastard is still out there, he could have other victims. It was seven years ago, but he could have a new one today." The thought sickened him. "I've been wondering what we can do about that since it's obviously out of our jurisdiction. We can't involve Tawny while she's pregnant because direct confrontation with childhood trauma can be mentally and physically devastating."

"That's the most important thing right now. I don't want anything to happen to her or the baby." Greg was taken aback by his sudden attachment to the baby.

Grissom prodded, "But if the opportunity arises…you know, if she's talking about it, maybe you could get the guy's name from her. If we can get his name we can at least see if he has any priors or anything current."

"Yeah…I've been thinking about that too." Greg glanced out the car window. "So you see…when Hodges objectified her an hour after she told me all this, it was really bad timing…not that there could be good timing, but that's why I lost control. I'm really sorry I caused you so much trouble. I know you would have handled it differently."

Upon parking in the Walgreen's lot, he glanced at Greg. "You wanted me to be more open with you before…what I'm about to say is between you and me. When I was in Tahoe interrogating Rodgers…I lost it. Same situation. He said some nasty things about Sara that made me see red. Before I knew it, I punched him. It's hard for any decent man to keep his cool when a woman is disgraced before him…make it a woman he cares about and the stakes are raised….make it a woman he loves…he's capable of anything. If his actions in Tahoe had killed Sara…I don't know what I would have done."

"It's primal." Greg flashed back to the scene in the desert. "I still don't remember pulling the trigger on Dales Trail."

"You ever have nightmares about it?"

"Sometimes." Looking down he lowered his voice. "It's always the same one. I freeze and he takes the gun. I see him pointing it at Sara and I can't move. Luckily I wake up when the shot is fired."

"Sara's had a few too." His voice dropped. "So have I."

"I'm sure." Sighing, Greg asked, "How long do you think I'll have them? Do you think I have post-traumatic stress disorder?"

Feeling bad that he hadn't asked Greg about it before, he counseled, "It's quite possible that you have a mild temporary case. Some people, when they are exposed to a one-time traumatic event, experience PTSD for months, even years following the incident. For some, symptoms don't manifest until they are triggered by a similar event or characteristic of the event. For example, if you were out hiking in similar terrain and you suddenly heard gunfire, it might induce a fear-based reaction."

"I've heard about that happening to soldiers."

"Right…the condition is most commonly associated with war veterans but rape, molestation and physical abuse victims as well as victims of attacks are also at high risk."

Greg released a heavy sigh. "What am I complaining about, Tawny has been a victim a couple of times…the incident with her mom's boyfriend was bad enough but she was date raped a few years back…talk about guys who deserve grievous bodily harm. But you see, even with all that, Tawny doesn't seem to have a PTSD problem."

"You haven't known her that long. Depressive episodes, the most common symptom, can come and go." Grissom lightened his tone. "Then again, PTSD can cause phobias, particularly social phobias…but I'm confident Tawny doesn't have a social phobia because she's very outgoing. She invades my personal space every time I see her."

Greg smiled. "She is very affectionate."

"And you said she doesn't have a substance or alcohol problem, right?"

"No."

"Greg, in my opinion, lack of self-esteem seems to be her biggest issue. And I think you're already helping her with that and who knows how much progress she'll make spending one hour with Carrie Blake. If that woman's perseverance and positive outlook could be canned and sold, the drug manufacturers of anti-depressants would go belly up."

Proudly Greg admitted, "I convinced Tawny to try out some college courses online. She's registering for Algebra and English Lit."

"That's fantastic." Grissom broke into an approving smile. "Let her know that I'll be happy to help if she needs tutoring." Then he remembered the story he had related to his wife and imagined what her reaction would be. "I meant on English Lit, not Algebra."

"Is your Algebra that bad?"

"No…I have Algebra PTSD."

"Lots of students hate it but… seriously? Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from Algebra? You?" He was puzzled that the genius could have such a problem.

Laughing, Grissom opened his car door. "Same abbreviation but a much different disorder." He could tell Greg was trying to figure out the alternative acronym. "You'll never figure it out so don't bother. And I'm not going to tell you because that's a secret only Sara will ever know."

Meeting Grissom on the sidewalk, Greg teased, "Think we'll get hit on by men again?"

Hurrying to the door, he groaned, "I sincerely hope not because my day has been bizarre enough. But since neither of us needs to buy condoms anymore I think we're safe."

"True…one perk of having a pregnant girlfriend I'm not sleeping with…I'm saving money on condoms." Running his fingers over his battered face, Greg said, "Who knows what people will think with my face looking like this." Chuckling, he said, "I hope they don't think my Sugar Daddy got rough with me."

Holding open the door, Grissom reminded him, "You forget…I'm a famous TV star now. Everyone knows I'm a lovable sap who likes to kiss his wife." Suddenly preoccupied with Sara, he announced, "I'll be in the candy aisle. I'm going to buy my wife some chocolate."

Waking into the store, Greg gushed, "You're such a sweet Sugar Daddy!" Then he realized that everyone within ten feet of him heard the declaration.

"And you wonder why we have a problem when we come here?" Shaking his head, Grissom walked away. "I'll meet you at the car."

The Grissoms'
12:35 p.m.

As soon as she hung up the phone, Sara took off in search of Ron. "Uh…excuse me! Where the hell are you? Snooping was not part of the arrangement!"

Then she heard the flush of a toilet.

"Oh." Leaning against the wall she waited for the uninvited guest to emerge. "Sorry I accused you of snooping."

"Considering who you were speaking with, I didn't think it prudent to interrupt your phone call and ask for directions. Very nice library by the way. Gil's mother was a voracious reader. Because of her, he had a passion for books at a very early age."

"Books are an excellent way to escape a disappointing reality," She replied while thinking of her own reliance on the coping mechanism. "I'm sure Gil had a lot of escaping to do as a child."

Curious about her conversation with his son, Ron asked, "Did you tell him I was here when you spoke with him on the phone?"

"Are you kidding!" Still shaken from lying to her husband, she barked, "I couldn't drop a bomb like this on him over the phone! Certainly not while he was driving and definitely not when he's not alone. This is going to rock his world. It's rocking mine and you're not even my asshole father! Just because I got caught up in your story doesn't mean I like you! I want to know everything about my husband and you're the only one who can fill in the blanks." Returning to the living room, she blasted her feelings. "You see, I have a bunch of questions for my asshole father but he's dead, so I'll never get a chance to ask him. I don't know if Gil wants a chance to grill you so I'm asking the questions for him."

"And then what?"

"Then, without telling him you're in town, I'll determine if he would want to know. If I sense his answer is yes, I'll fill him in on you coming here. If his answer is no…then I don't know what I'll do because you've put me between a rock and a hard place!" Facing Ron, she emoted beyond what she wanted him to see. "I don't want to lie to my husband, but I don't want to cause him pain by opening and throwing salt on an old wound. When you abandoned him, you screwed with his mind and it has taken decades for him to learn to trust. He finally trusts me. He's happy now. We're happy. We're trying to start our own family. I don't want anything to jeopardize our relationship because I waited my whole god damn life to find this kind of love and security. What if seeing you causes him to revert back to his old untrusting self?"

"Sara…I never intended to cause you or Gil any pain," He pleaded.

"How exactly were you going to prevent that!" She panted from ranting. "You show up forty years after abandoning your son and expect him not to get upset when he sees you? You're delusional! Why are you here? I'm still waiting for an answer to that question!" Marching towards the kitchen she snapped, "Tell me right now or I'm kicking you out!"

"I saw your photograph in the newspaper," He hastily replied. "I've always kept tabs on my son and when I found out he almost died I felt compelled to see him…to tell him I was proud of him for so many reasons. I know it's too late but I wanted to apologize and tell him how wrong I was for cutting him out of my life. I feel like I owe him that knowledge."

"Why not write it in a letter?" She countered.

"We both know he wouldn't read it." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he somberly said, "And I wanted him to know because…I want to make sure he wasn't the type of man who would repeat the legacy of the Grissom men…turning his back on his family. You see…my father cut me off completely. I cut Gil off emotionally, but still supported him financially. Each generation should improve. I wanted to see in him the ability to be the man my father and I weren't. If I could see that then I could walk away with the knowledge I didn't ruin him and he would emphatically have what I always wanted…the knowledge that the son is a better man than the father."

Her ire still building, she snipped, "He already knows that, so you can go back home and sleep better at night."

"Look…you said it yourself…I messed him up. Well, I want to give him an opportunity to rip me a new one and rid himself of the animosity that's pent up inside him. I want to give him a chance for closure. I don't expect to win back a spot in his life if that's what you think. I fully expect him to read me the riot act, kick me to the curb and never speak with me again…that will be fine with me."

"So what's in it for you?" She snapped.

"I need the closure too. I didn't have a chance to give it of get it from Jillian and it's haunted me. I want Gil to have a chance."

"What makes you think he wants it?" Opening the fridge, she grabbed the large bottle of cranberry juice and unscrewed the lid while walking to the counter. "What makes you think he didn't already achieve closure without you? A person can achieve closure without direct confrontation."

"You've been in therapy too I see." He guessed from her choice of words. "You mentioned issues with your own father and how you had questions you wish you could ask. Why not give Gil that opportunity?"

"He's not me. He deals with things differently!" In her anger, she dropped the plastic bottle on the large kitchen throw rug, sending dark red juice splashing everywhere. "Damn it!"

Ron rushed over to help. "Here let me…" When he reached the kitchen he saw Sara sitting on the floor crying. "Please…"

"…don't cry, Jillian," He soothed as he walked over and sat beside her on the kitchen floor so she could read his lips. "I will find a doctor and you'll be back to new in no time."

"And if you can't? I know you don't want me like this. I'm not the woman you fell in love with."

"That's not true!"

"When you're away on business you meet all kinds of women. Women like I used to be…fun, interesting women. Women who are whole. What a disappointment it must be to come home to me after spending time with them."

"I've never cheated on you, Jillian. I will never cheat on you." He gripped her by the shoulders. "But you can't keep shutting me out. I need my wife back. We need our life back. We still have a life, you're choosing not to be a part of it. You lock yourself in this house. You keep Gil locked in here with you. It's not fair. You spend all your time reading books trying to escape reality rather than coping with this hand we were dealt."

"Just leave me alone." She turned away so she couldn't see his lips.

Reaching out he turned her head. "If you keep asking me to leave you alone…one day I might take you up on the offer because I can't live like this forever, Jillian. Being apart but living together is slowly killing me. You know you're all I have. I walked away from everything because I believed in our love. Now you've taken that away from me and I'm alone. I'm working my ass off and I need some semblance of a personal life. I need intimacy. I need you to touch me! It's been two years!"

"You have a plane to catch. I'm sure there is plenty of life in Amsterdam."

"I'm serious, Jillian. I'll be back in two weeks. Think long and hard about what I said." Standing up, he watched his wife turn away. In a whisper he knew she couldn't hear, he said, "I love you but I'm getting tired, Jillian. I'm getting bitter. I'm losing my patience. I meant what I said…you're pushing me out the door and one day I'm going to keep walking. Please…"

"…don't cry, Sara." Ron searched the kitchen for the location of the paper towels. "I'll help you clean this up and then I'll leave. You never have to mention I was here."

Through her tears, she asked her next question. "Why couldn't you keep in touch with him? He would have been satisfied with a weekly phone call. Was that so much to ask? Would that have been such a horrific inconvenience to your new family?"

With the paper towels in hand, he walked over to her and explained, "Because every time I stopped by or called I upset Jillian. There was too much anger and no closure. We still loved and hated each other too much to be amicable. As time passed, it got uglier and uglier and when she got upset, Gil got upset. He was always in the middle of us. I hated that, but she wouldn't sign with me. It got worse…I even started threatening to take Gil away from her but I traveled so much that wouldn't have been fair." Ripping off a wad of towels, he wiped down the cabinets. "Besides, he was the only thing she had so…I couldn't do it. Eventually I thought it was best for everyone's mental health if we avoided the confrontation. I stopped coming by and I stopped calling. I just sent the monthly checks with a note…the notes got smaller over time and eventually, I just sent the checks."

Wiping her tears, Sara coolly remarked, "What gives parents the right to put their own needs before their child?" The chill in her voice mirrored the chill running through her body as she stared him down. "Your father may have cut you off, but you were twenty-two years old. You have no idea what it feels like, to be a frightened, abandoned nine year old. You don't know what it feels like but I know. I know the kind of pain it causes. Shaking with anger, she snarled, "Take a long, hard look at me. Do I look like I'm over it? Is this what you came here to see from Gil? This kind of heartache? Well, guess what…you'll have to be satisfied seeing me suffer, because I'm not going to tell him you came here today. You're as dead to him as my father is to me and there's no point in resurrecting you because you don't have any good answers! Now I know my father wouldn't have any either because, there are no good answers to the question, why did you think it was okay to make your child pay the price for your cowardice? Both you and Jillian were guilty of that crime as were my parents. Gil and I were just innocent victims of our parents' selfish actions. You could have found a way to stay! My mother could have found a way to take with me her and leave my father! Gil and I are entitled to be angry. You gave us that right! The right to hate you! To never forgive you for what you did. It's our choice to forgive. You can't earn our forgiveness no matter how much you plead."

"Please calm down," He softly asked while kneeling before her. "Can I get you something?"

His face blurred with her father's as she raged, "Why couldn't you be a better man? You said you loved us. I wanted you to show it not say it! I hate you for what you did! Do you hear me? I hate you!"

"Sara!"

As she caught her breath and regained control over the next couple of minutes, she saw it was once again Gil's father kneeling before her. "Uh…wow…I uh…I don't think I have to worry about writing that letter anymore."

The range of emotions he just witnessed left him dizzy. "What letter?"

The realizations lingered with Sara and for the first time ever when thinking about her parents, a sense of calm washed over her. "Dr. Myers never provoked that kind of reaction from me. I think you just saved your son a bunch of money on my therapy sessions. He'll hate that."

"I'm so sorry, Sara." Ron reached out and helped her up off the floor. "You're right, I don't have good answers…I only have truthful ones. We were cowards…very dysfunctional human beings, and there's no way to make things right. I thought telling the truth would somehow bring peace, but from your intense reaction I know I was mistaken."

"Maybe not…" Swallowing the lump in her throat, she explained, "That was vicariously cathartic for me. I can only imagine how much better it would be if it were the real deal." Leaning against the fridge, she searched her soul. "If I could learn there was a time when my parents were happy and know for a fact that I was born out of love it would make a difference. If I could know for certain that my parents loved me and wanted the best for me, but just didn't know how to get it right…it would bring some peace of mind. If I could hear them apologize for their actions I would definitely listen. And I think we both know if I could tell them how they made me feel I would." Staring at the bewildered man in front of her, she informed him, "I don't know if it would be enough to let me forgive them but, I know it would help me feel better."

"So…are you saying you still might tell Gil?" His tone was hopeful. "I won't approach him. I'll leave it entirely up to you."

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I know he doesn't have closure because he's still angry at you. He couldn't even talk about you until a month ago. I hate to make him go through the pain, but I also think it could free him of forty years worth of pent up emotions. The fact that he has started talking about you is a sign he might be ready to confront you." Walking over to the pantry, she grabbed a bottle of cleanser. "While you're rolling up the rug and helping me clean this mess, tell me a good memory about your son. But not the rollercoaster story…that's the only one I know. I'm optimistic that you have more than one."

"Have you ever wondered how Gil first got interested in bugs?" He jovially asked as he rolled up the stained kitchen rug. "After he broke his foot in the crib accident, it was hard for him play outside so…"

Greg's Apartment
12:59 p.m.

As Grissom pulled up to the curb he pointed to Tawny rounding the corner from the parking lot. "How's that for perfect timing? Now you have someone to help patch your boo-boos, Slugger."

"Thanks again for everything." He grabbed his plastic shopping bag. "I'll see you tonight for shift," He said upon opening the car door.

"Don't spend too much time on your hair because everyone will be looking at your Technicolor face." He pointed to his eye. "You have some very nice blues and purples coming in and black is only a couple of hours away."

"I'll wear a really loud shirt to distract everyone," He laughingly replied before shutting the car door and waving.

When Grissom saw Tawny rush Greg and throw her arms around him, he thought…I'm only fifteen minutes from home, why not surprise Sara with the chocolate and take a few minutes to decompress before returning to the office? Smiling, he put the car in drive and pulled away.