"Second Chances – Part 9"
The Grissoms'
12:35 p.m.
After not reaching Grissom via phone or page, Catherine decided to drive from the Forum Shops to his house. Her curiosity piqued and her concern mounting, she hoped she was just jumping to incorrect conclusions.
Recalling that Nick said it was Brass who informed him of Sara's sudden disappearance, Catherine flipped open her phone and punched in his code.
"Brass."
"Hey, Jim, it's Cath," She greeted as she pulled out of the parking garage. "Nick called me. He said you told him Sara left town for the week for a seminar and she can't be contacted."
"That's right."
The short answer and the tone of his voice raised her suspicion. "Sara has a lecture commitment with me this week and she wouldn't bail without telling me. She also wouldn't leave open cases and not be in contact. Also, Nick and I can't get Grissom on the phone. What's going on, Jim?"
"What do you mean?"
"Stop being evasive!" She ordered before softening her tone, "I'm worried."
"Look…between you and me…I don't know the details. All I know is that Sara needed to get away quick. I volunteered to do the explaining…that's why I called Nick."
"Get away quick?" Catherine focused her eyes on the road while her mind raced. "Why?"
"You got me," He huffed through the phone. "Something happened. Sara said Gil doesn't want to be anywhere near her and that was okay with her because he motivated her to stay as far away from him as possible. When I spoke with Gil this morning he wasn't aware that she had skipped town. He didn't take it well. Shocking! The only detail I got out of him was that whatever he did, it's worse than what he did to her in Tahoe."
"Worse than Tahoe? Good god!" Catherine cringed as she accelerated through a yellow traffic light. "I don't get how something that bad could have happened so fast. They were blissed out when I saw them last. She was thrilled he didn't die in the building collapse and he couldn't get enough of her. What the hell?"
"I know what you mean. I spoke with him on Saturday and life was great but by Sunday evening it was FUBAR and they both seemed guilty and hurt at the same time. What do you make of that?"
"You know…we forget they're still new at being in a relationship." Rationalizing made her breathe easier. "It's probably nothing you or I would flinch at but for them…it's end of the world stuff. In people years they may be forty-eight and thirty-four but in relationship years they're both sixteen and desperate to hold onto their first love."
"Ahhh teen angst…I remember it well. Donna Pentisano ripped my heart out of my chest and gave it to her German Sheppard to use as a play toy."
"Still hurts, huh?"
"Only when I see a German Sheppard bearing it's fangs."
"Speaking of bearing fangs…" Sighing, she pulled up to a red light and said, "Did you know they never argue? They've been together for almost a year and he told me they've argued twice. They're always walking on eggshells because they're both so afraid they'll ruin things. I warned him that would lead to an explosion one day. I bet something stupid happened, it set them both off and BAM they both say things to hurt the other and now they think it has to be over because it's not perfect anymore."
"But it's so unlike them to be anal about stuff," He deadpanned.
"Right." She groaned while driving into the main entrance of Grissom's neighborhood. "Why didn't you call me when you knew this was going on?"
"It wasn't my place. If he wanted to tell you…"
"Oh sure." She rolled her eyes as she turned the wheel. "Mr. Communicatively Dysfunctional is just gonna pick up the phone and call me to talk about his world falling apart."
"He's a big boy, Catherine and you're not his mother. Whatever is going on…it's between him and his wife. I will comment that if he had handled things more expeditiously then his wife wouldn't have made it out of town without him knowing."
Irritated by the reply, she snapped, "It surprises me that you're not concerned about a prolonged separation affecting the lab."
"Are you accusing me of playing favorites?"
"No…" She parked her car in front of Grissom's. "I'm pointing out that you're not focusing on the whole picture."
"Fine." Brass snipped, "When I see him I'll be sure to ask how he's doing and I'll be sure to let you know."
"Fine." She turned off the car. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've have to check in with my kid."
Shoreline Cabins
12:42 p.m.
Sitting at the kitchen table in her rental cabin, Sara was readying to write her next postcard when the phone rang. In a knee-jerk reaction she raced toward it but without any caller ID system attached to the cheap phone, she had no way of knowing who was calling.
Uncertainty fluttered her stomach and she let another ring go by.
"It's just Brass, she assured herself as she reached for the receiver." Then she pulled her hand away stating, "But what if it's not?"
Another ring sounded.
"What if it's Gil?" Her fingers curled around the receiver as she let another ring come and go.
"Ugh! The lack of technology in this cabin sucks!" She shrieked as she debated if it could be her husband and if she was ready to speak with him.
Finally, she relented and picked up the cordless. "Hello," She answered with a forced confidence.
"Were you outside skipping stones across the lake?" Brass asked. "Or is there no caller ID there and you were doing the 'could it be him' dance while you stared at the phone?"
"We need a ring code," She replied in a light laugh. "Call, ring twice, hang up then call back."
"But you answered it even though it could have been him, what does that tell me? Hmm…"
Leaning against the wall, she lowered her head and her voice. "Does he know I'm gone yet?"
"Yes, he does."
Lifting her head, she took a deep breath and in a raw voice, asked her burning question. "Does he care?"
"Yes, he does."
Her eyes closed as she filled her lungs with hope and air.
When she didn't respond, his trademark chuckle floated through the phone. "You're dying to know what he said, but you're too proud to ask."
"No, it has nothing to do with pride," She quietly replied, "I'm afraid if I hear it I'll want to rush back to Vegas when I need to stay here and get my head together. Actually…I know if I hear it I'll rush back to Vegas instead of staying here and getting my head together."
"Ah."
Sighing, she admitted, "There's this pattern you see…I back away, he thinks he's losing me, he says something sweet, I smile and forget why I was ever disappointed in him. I'm trying to break that pattern. I'm hoping if he has a little time he'll figure out a way to break some patterns too." A smile crept up on her. "Hopefully he'll figure it out faster than his average turnaround time, because I only have this place for a week."
"I agree with your strategy and don't worry about him taking as long as it did before. Before you were always within arms reach so he didn't have to think. Now that you're away, I believe he'll be motivated to think faster."
"Let's hope you're right," She nervously replied. "But if you talk to him…tell him…" While chewing her bottom lip, she sorted through the hundreds of things she wanted to say. "Tell him I was happy to hear he cared. And when you talk to him…find out if he's really doing okay because if he needs me to…"
"Sara…"
"Right." She nodded. "Just tell him I was happy to hear he cared."
The Grissoms'
12:45 p.m.
Three rings of the doorbell and no answer later, Catherine decided to give a forceful knock. "If you're in there hiding because you think I'll find out what's going on it's too late, I already know!"
When there was still no response, she stuffed her hands on her hips. "Maybe he flew the coop too."
As she turned to leave, her gut told her to stop. Something didn't feel right. It was a sixth sense she trusted many times in the field and one that usually didn't mislead, but she knew it wasn't foolproof. "Dammit!" She cursed, knowing sometimes, when her emotions were involved, her gut was unreliable.
Pacing out front, she asked herself, what did Grissom tell me when we broke into Sara's apartment to steal her credit card number so we could track her down in Tahoe?" Breaking and entering was a necessary short cut. "So if he could justify breaking and entering for a good cause, I can trespass and peek without feeling guilty."
With her conscience appeased, she hurried around to the side of the house and popped open the gate to the backyard. After a quick trek through the professionally landscaped yard, she cautiously approached the glass French doors which led directly into the massive living room/kitchen area of the house.
Shielding the midday sun with her hand, she brought her face to the door, and when she scanned the room at eye level, she rapidly determined no one was moving about the room and nothing looked out of place.
As she would when investigating any scene, she made a second sweep of the room, this time lowering her gaze to the floor.
While her mind processed the room, her internal alarm sounded and in a matter of seconds her pulse was pounding. Broken glass…blood spatter on the floor…blood smears on the cabinet…thrown food…scattered pictures. "Oh my god." Without hesitation, she grasped the handle and when it didn't give, she kicked open the door. "Gil!"
After a quick check behind the kitchen island she hurried down the hall toward the offices shouting, "Gil!" On her way toward the bedroom she stepped on Grissom's car keys and knew for the first time he had to be home. "Gil what the hell is going on? Answer me! I'm really freaked out here!"
With her heart rate soaring she raced into the bedroom. Just five steps inside, two things struck her …the open dresser drawers and the overpowering stench of vomit. Her fingers tore through her hair as she nervously said, "Gil? It's Catherine." She assumed he was getting sick in the bathroom. "I'm sorry for barging in but from the looks of things you could use a friend."
When the only response she got was silence, she proceeded to the bathroom. "Gil?" Her sixth sense went into overdrive as she pushed open the half-cracked door leading to the bathroom suite. "Since you're not answering I'm coming in. Just in case you need…"
Her eyes snapped open as the shock of the discovery hit her full force. "Oh my god!" She shrieked while her mind struggled to make sense of the horrifying scene. Grissom unresponsive on the floor…his blood drenched wrist and arm…empty pill bottles…a pool of vomit…a written note at his side.
"No! What did you do?" While grabbing her cell phone with one hand, she vigorously shook Grissom with the other. "Wake up! Wake up!" For a second she stopped to punch in the critical three numbers and then she returned to rousing him. "What did you do!" She rammed two fingers into Grissom's neck to check for a pulse. "Wake up!"
"911. What's your emergency?"
"I need an ambulance." Catherine panted into the phone while she tried to keep track of the number of pulse beats.
"Okay. What is your location?"
"Um…" In her panic, the address wouldn't surface. "Um…um…dammit!" Reaching for his hand, she tried to assess where the blood was from. "Isn't the address popping up on your display?"
"No, because you're calling from a cell phone. Are you in a house?"
Unwrapping the dish towel from around Grissom's hand, she stammered, "Yes…yes."
"Listen…I need you to calm down, take the phone with you and go to the front of the house to find the address. I have dispatch on the line. As soon as you give me the address we'll send the ambulance."
"I'll run and get it." Halfway out of the room, it hit her and she yelled it into the phone. "2214 Quail Run Road! Hurry okay because he's not responding!"
"I want you stay on the line. Ambulance is on its way. You said he's not responding?"
"No!" She frantically replied while rushing back to the bathroom. "I tried to rouse him…"
"Can you check to see if he's breathing for me?"
Shoreline Cabins
12:59 p.m.
Breathing out, Sara reached for the phone while continuing her silent conversation with herself. I'm not going home. I'm just calling. I'm calling to say that if he's willing to acknowledge his issues and get help then I'm willing to give things a chance. Just one more chance…
"Just give me one more chance, Laura," Sara heard her father say as he presented her mom with a beautiful bouquet of fresh cut flowers. Sitting at the kitchen table, she kept her nose firmly planted in her math book while the discussion continued. After all, there wasn't much of a reason to pay attention since she had heard the same conversation many times before.
"That's what you said last time," Laura sadly replied while accepting the peace offering. "When you asked for another chance last time I said yes, but only if you would get help."
"I will this time!" He promised through a smile. "Come on…you believe me don't you? Hey…how about we take a drive on Saturday? We can go to that seafood place you like? I'll leave you some cash and you can buy something special to wear. You know how much I love taking my beautiful wife out on the town. What do you say?"
While pretending to do her math homework, Sara waited to see if her mother would for once decline the offer.
"That sounds great," Laura replied with a smile.
Sara watched her father kiss her mother's bruised cheek before leaving the house to return to work. "Mom," She asked in a confused eight year old's voice. "Why do you always say yes when he asks for another chance? Doesn't it hurt to get hit so much?"
Sighing, Laura Sidle placed the flowers in the usual vase. "Not as much as it hurts to be alone."
"Oh."
"You just worry about your studies, Sweetie, not me," Laura informed her daughter while opening the freezer and retrieving a chilled bottle of Vodka. "Mommy's pain will go away as soon as she takes her medicine."
The dial tone changing to the harsh operator's voice…if you would like to make a call, please hang up and dial again, if you need help, hang up and dial your operator…snapped Sara out of the painful memory and a moment later she clicked off the phone and returned it to its cradle.
"I don't trust myself," She whispered before recalling her words to Jim. There's this pattern you see…I back away, he thinks he's losing me, he says something sweet, I smile and forget why I was ever disappointed in him. I'm trying to break that pattern. I'm hoping if he has a little time he'll figure out a way to break some patterns too.
Tapping her pen on the kitchen table she thought through the issue. I learned my behavior to give in from my mother. He learned his behavior to judge and snap upon feeling betrayed from his mother. We both have issues. We both need to work on them. We both need time.
Sunrise Medical Center
Las Vegas
1:40 p.m.
Time stood still while Catherine paced the ER waiting area for word on Grissom's condition. It was impossible to imagine surviving the Harper House collapse last week only to lose him like this.
"Ms. Willows?" Dr. Lynn Barker approached with an empathetic smile.
Catherine braced herself for the news.
"He's going to be fine," The doctor assured her. "The CT and EKG were fine…no signs of heart attack or stroke. Just an out of control migraine."
"You're sure?" She sniffled while trying to believe the doctor. "Because I've seen him with a migraine before and it was nothing compared to this…this was really frightening."
"Most likely that was a mild or moderate migraine you observed." The doctor sat down and motioned for Catherine to take a seat next to her. "A severe migraine can present like a stroke…the person can lose their vision, have weak limbs or speech and be generally unresponsive. Because of his presenting symptoms and the information you provided on his heart risk, we triaged him as urgent. Better to be safe than sorry. I know it can be unnerving to the loved ones."
"I'll say!" Catherine admitted while smoothing back her mussed hair. "It really freaked me out."
"It's understandably scary but not at all life threatening." The doctor calmly continued to relay the details. "When Mr. Grissom was able to speak to us, he told us that he had been suffering from moderate migraine pain for the last twenty-four hours. He said he had been keeping it under control with his Imitrex prescription medication…the empty pill bottle you presented to the EMTs was for Imitrex. When he ran out of medication his pain rapidly escalated to an extreme causing the acute stroke-like symptoms and the vomiting. The last thing he remembers is being in the bathroom searching the medicine cabinet for more Imitrex."
"That's where I found him." Catherine was finally able to relax in her chair. "Lying on the floor with the blood…"
"Six stitches to the palm. He'll have a scar but the hand is fine." The doctor checked her watch and stood. "If you follow me back you can probably catch him before he passes out from the migraine cocktail we gave him."
Catherine stayed on the doctor's heels. "Migraine cocktail?"
"Imitrex for the migraine, Toradol as an anti-inflammatory, Demerol to knock him out, and Compazine to stop the nausea." Hitting the release button to open the ER doors, Doctor Baker said, "He'll be out for three to four hours. His blood work showed signs of dehydration and low blood sugar so he's getting fluids too. But don't worry, that's typical if he wasn't eating or drinking because of the migraine pain…and the 100 plus temperature outside doesn't help."
"Right." Catherine felt better with each reassuring word.
"He's in here." The doctor pointed to one of the private ER rooms. "Don't turn on the lights or the TV and you'll want to keep your voice down."
"Thank you, Doctor." Catherine nodded.
Walking away the doctor said, "If you have any concerns, see one of the nurses and they can always page me if necessary."
"Okay." With her palm on the door, Catherine paused to take a few cleansing breaths so she didn't appear as stressed as she felt.
"Are you going in?" Nurse Ramirez asked. The young woman extended a blanket. "Just out of the warmer." As she handed it over, she smiled. "Not that he'll need the help sleeping after what we gave him."
With the hot blanket in hand, Catherine entered the darkened room. Following the doctor's instructions, she moved quietly to the bed and whispered, "Hey there…it's Catherine." She watched his heavy lids slowly open. "Are you trying to make a habit of ending up in the hospital with me every week?"
Fighting the fog overtaking him, Grissom groggily said, "Thanks…for getting me here."
Unfurling the blanket, she told him, "Well…you know my ego, I saved you from Syd Goggle and then last week you had to go and make things even by saving me in that basement." Gently covering him, she smiled. "So what choice did you leave me but to save your ass again?"
"I..." His eyes battled to stay open. "I messed things up with…"
"Shh…you need to take a nap now." With care, she tucked the blanket around him. "While you're sleeping off your cocktail, I'm going to step out and handle some business but I'll be here when you wake up. We'll talk about it then. Okay?"
"O…"
"Yeah…there you go, get some rest." Catherine sighed as she watched him pass out cold. "You really had me going back at the house." Her eyes welling, she looked to the ceiling. "Don't ever scare me like that again. Because even though you need me ninety-five percent of the time, there's that five percent when I need you…like when I'm ready to run up the stairs of a collapsing building and you grab my arm…or when I'm hysterical from being trapped at the bottom of a building thinking I'll never see my daughter again and you make fun of yourself to distract me…or when I need someone to call me on being a controlling shrew and you step to the plate."
Returning her gaze to the sleeping patient, she whispered, "There…now I don't have to worry about telling you that later." With a couple of stealthy swipes, she brushed her tears away. "Because later, when you're awake…I have a feeling I'll want to kick your ass for doing or saying whatever the hell it is you did or said to incite your devoted wife to leave you, you big jerk."
Tugging the blanket a little higher, she groaned, "Oh great…Brass was right…I am mothering you. Well then I guess you can blame your problems with Sara on me, because you know what they say whenever a kid is a mental misfit…it's the mother's fault. But do they ever give us credit for all the good stuff we do? Noooo."
Albertson's Grocery Store
2:02 p.m.
Greg was tossing another two boxes of tissues in his shopping cart when his cell phone rang.
One look at the ID displayed and he shook his head. "I knew it." Sighing, he clicked the 'talk' button. "Hi, mom."
"I've been thinking."
"I had a feeling you were." He chuckled as he pushed the cart down the aisle.
"After we hung up, it dawned on me that I haven't been out to visit you in a while."
Knowing he didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell, he replied, "It's August in Vegas, no one leaves the beach to come here and melt. Besides, you're going to see me in a few weeks when I come out for Labor Day weekend."
"Will you be bringing Tawny when you visit?"
Grinning, he plucked a twelve-pack of toilet paper from the shelf. "Is she invited?"
"No, Greg." Her sarcasm dripped through the phone. "The girl is co-habitating with my only child and gestating my future grandbaby but I have absolutely no interest in meeting her."
"That's what I thought," He snickered while strolling to the next aisle. "Of course I was planning on bringing her! After going to the picnic at the Country Club without a date for years, I'm ready to show up with a gorgeous girl on my arm."
"You got your shallowness from your father."
"That's not the only reason I'm bringing her." Grabbing a bag of tortilla chips, he added, "I'm bringing her so she can meet you…the other important woman in my life."
"You got your intelligence from me," She chuckled. "As well as your good looks, sense of humor…"
Crime Lab
Nick Stokes' Office
2:15 p.m.
"Very funny, Catherine," Nick grumbled. "I call you earlier telling you that I'm drowning from being two people short and now you want me to cover graveyard for you?"
"Nicky, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate. Between you and me okay?"
Sighing, he reclined in his chair. "Go ahead."
"I'm outside Sunrise Medical Center. Grissom is in the ER…"
"What?" He bolted up in his chair. "Why?"
"Severe migraine."
Breathing out he told her, "I thought you were going to tell me Sara tried to kill him and you found him half dead when you went to the house. You know…wife suddenly leaves town, husband doesn't answer the phone…"
"That's the job talking, Nick. And you should know better than to jump to conclusions."
He shook off his inadequacy. "Yeah…you'd never do that."
"Here's the other piece of the puzzle…you were right about Grissom and Sara having a blow out. Now, Brass is the only one who knows where Sara is and I'm the only one who knows where Grissom is…well now you do too. The thing is…I don't want Brass to know about Grissom being in the hospital. If he knows then he might tell Sara and then she'll come back before she should come back and the romantically challenged fools will make up without making any progress. Then Brass will hold this against Grissom like he still holds Tahoe against him. So when you cover tonight, if asked, just say that Grissom needed the night off and leave it at that."
Nick ran his hand over his shaven head. "This is getting a little complicated for me."
"Then just do what I'm telling you and don't think." She chuckled, "Just be a guy, Nicky."
The Cheesecake Factory
3:30 pm.
"So who is this guy you're crazy about, Tawny?" Tiffany asked after swallowing a bite of the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Cheesecake she was sharing with Paula and Diamond, her co-workers at Club Paradise.
Taking a break for a second, Tawny slid into the booth to join her friends whom she knew from her dancing gig prior to Tweeter's, "Who told you I had a special guy in my life?"
"We were drinking at Aldo's on Saturday night and bumped into Aisha. She was just coming off her shift at Tweeter's. She told us you up and quit last week saying that your boyfriend didn't want you dancing anymore."
"Yeah." Tawny gushed, "He's a great guy…I'm head over heels in love! He really loves me too…it's the real deal! Just like Pretty Woman, he rescued me from my old life! But just like in the movie…I rescued him right back! See, he has this really tough job with the Police Department so he needs someone to be there for him after a hard day. Isn't it all totally romantic!"
"Yeah…" Licking whipped cream off her index finger, Diamond grumped, "We heard he knocked you up during a booty call. Aisha told us that Amber said she heard you asking Tina about paternity testing because you really needed to prove it was this nice guy's baby because he was concerned he wasn't the only booty caller in your life."
"Oh." Busted, Tawny flashed a nervous smile. "Well that part is true too. Not the part about having other booty callers! You know me…I only date one guy at a time."
Paula burst out laughing. "You mean screw don't you?"
"Hey now," Diamond shot her pal a look. "You know Miss Kansas has always played it straight. She don't even like doing girl on girl action at the club."
"Thanks, Diamond," Tawny quietly replied.
"Okay, okay I'm sorry. So you reeled in a good one." Paula grinned. "And now Lover Boy doesn't want his baby's mama shaking her ass for cash so he offers to take you in. You're right…that is real sweet."
"He really is a nice guy," Tawny informed the skeptics. "He's in law enforcement and he's really smart and…"
"Is he going to marry you?" Tiffany inquired while dipping her fork in the cheesecake slice.
"We haven't talked about it." Tawny continued to smile as she lied, "Besides…I'm uh…not really hung up on that traditional stuff anyway."
Diamond glared at Tiffany. "Now why did you have to go and get the girl's hopes up? You know he ain't gonna talk marriage until the baby is born and she proves it's his. Sure, he's a nice guy, but he ain't stupid! He's doing the right thing now just in case it works out and he's the baby's daddy, but if she were to lose that baby tomorrow you know he'd kick her to the curb. So watch what you say or you'll make her feel bad."
The words tore holes in Tawny's confidence and, in silence, she listened to her friends debate her life while they picked at the cheesecake like blood thirsty vultures.
"You don't know that he'd kick her to the curb if she lost the baby," Paula chided. "You haven't met the guy. Maybe he does really have a thing for her."
"You've been watching too many damn movies girl." Diamond rolled her eyes.
Tiffany choked down her bite and said, "Ha! She was just telling me that she watched Moulin Rouge again yesterday for like the hundredth time! What is with these movies about hookers being rescued that gets you girls going? Do me a favor, take a stroll down Fremont tonight and ask the skanky honeys how often that really happens?"
Paula elbowed Tawny. "Don't listen to her, you know she's just jealous."
"I'm not jealous, I'm a realist," Tiffany scoffed. "When this guy takes her home to meet his mama and slaps a diamond on her finger then I'll believe in fairy tales. Paula, you should know from watching Moulin Rouge that diamonds are a girl's best friend not promises from a guy."
Diamond shook her head, "Tawny, alls we're saying is guard that baby 'cause its your all-access pass to Mr. Wonderful. Don't go riding any horses, walking down spiral staircases in heels or doing any risky shit. You get my drift, girlfriend?"
Paula hissed, "At least I watch movies. That's soap opera garbage you're talking!"
Sliding out of the booth, Tawny announced, "I uh…I need to get back to the kitchen. Nice seein' ya. Bye guys."
Tiffany winked, "Be careful you don't slip on a banana peel back there, Honey."
Diamond stabbed her boothmate's arm with a fork. "I stuck a fork in you and look, you're done! Leave the princess alone already!"
As she hurried away, Tawny heard them laughing. "With friends like that who needs enemies?" She muttered under her breath. When she reached the back door of the restaurant, she threw it open and stepped out into the heat of the day. Real friends don't torture you when you're vulnerable! She screamed in her head. They shouldn't rub in the fact that your perfect life could be over before you even had a chance to enjoy it! They should want to help not knock you down! Leaning against the wall, she huffed, "I need new friends to go with my new life."
Sunrise Medical Center
Las Vegas
6:35 p.m.
Nurse Ramirez gently tapped Catherine, who was asleep in a chair in Grissom's hospital room. "I hate to wake you but your friend is feeling better and we're going to kick him out in about thirty minutes."
"Oh." Catherine rubbed her eyes. "Sorry…I'm used to sleeping in the afternoon."
On her way to the door, the nurse announced, "I'll be back with discharge paperwork later."
Catherine glanced over at Grissom who was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. "You look a hell of a lot better than when I scooped your ass off the bathroom floor."
Without looking at her, he somberly replied, "Thank you again for getting me here. Like the nurse said, I'm feeling better so there's no reason for you to stay. I'm sure Lindsay needs…"
"Nice try." When she stood, she stretched her arms and broke the news. "My daughter is at sleep-away softball camp all this week and Warrick is out with some friends until shift, so…I'm free to devote my time to a charitable cause." Plopping on the edge of the hospital bed, she grinned. "Know any good charity cases? Or, if I can't help one of those, maybe there's a basket case I can assist?"
"This…is really." Humiliated and embarrassed, Grissom glanced away. "I'm…"
"Hey!" Catherine reached over and turned his head. Looking him straight in the eyes she said, "Let's just stop the bullshit, shall we? There's no point in trying to salvage your dignity in front of me because it's impossible. I found you lying in a puddle of your own vomit. Vomit you spewed because of a severe migraine. A migraine induced by the nervous breakdown you had after you realized you screwed up your marriage and, since I'm inclined to believe you screwed it up by having a hissy fit and tossing a bunch of pastries, I think it's safe to say you really can't look any worse to me." She continued to stare down her obstinate friend. "So let's be real…I know you're pathetic, but I still want to be your friend and help your ass out of this mess and you need the help, pal."
"I appreciate your doing this for me but…"
"Oh, no! Don't think for minute this is all about you! Because it's not." Flipping her hair off her shoulders, she informed him, "It's about me."
Still foggy from the drugs, he asked, "How is this about you?"
"I'm the one who got you to lift your head up from the microscope, so I'll be damned if I'm going to let you get this far and fail!" Chuckling, he said, "How would I look if my little project ended up tanking? Like a loser that's how! And I don't like losing. Brass has Sara and I got stuck with you. That's fine…I prefer a challenge."
Gaping at his long-time friend, Grissom groaned, "The two of you have turned the salvation of my marriage into a contest?"
"Yeah, but he doesn't know it."
After staring at each other for a minute, Catherine gently prodded, "Why don't you tell me what happened? I mean, I've reviewed the evidence at the house and I can make a professional guess, but it's always simpler if the witness tells the story, right?" In a bold move that she knew would toss him out of his comfort zone, she took his hand in hers and said, "You know you can trust me."
While searching her eyes, he heard his mother's voice. Every time you give someone your trust they hurt you. People are all the same. I learned that the hard way. You don't need people to validate you. You're like me…you're fine on your own. You're safe on your own. Do you understand? Trust no one.
"Come on…give it up," Catherine needled. "Chances are you are being way harder on yourself than I will be on you. Besides…I think you owe me a blank for lifting you out of a pool of vomit, don't you?"
In a distant voice, he said, "I always make people earn information about me…even Sara."
Happy he was at least talking about an issue, albeit not the one she wanted, she eagerly replied, "You want to share, but you don't know how. The little hoops you make people jump…the earning of information as you put it, like the blank game we play…it allows you to share without feeling the total vulnerability of giving something away. If the information comes back to bite you in the ass, you didn't give easily to the person doing the hurting so you're not stupid and your pride isn't damaged."
"I never thought of it that way."
"Shocking!" She squeezed his hand. "Why the hell do you think I'm not going to let you sit around alone thinking this through! You'll have yourself one step below Jack the Ripper before midnight. You're not a horrible guy, Gil, you're just dysfunctional and you made one serious error in judgment! I warned you not to keep your emotions bottled up inside for so long. I told you it was a guaranteed way to explode one day. Did you listen? Noooo!"
"But you don't understand…losing it in front of Sara…she has a history with…"
"Domestic Abuse? Duh! I know that."
"She told you?"
"How stupid do you think I am? Really?" Catherine shook her head. "The girl goes off on every domestic abuse case we handle for five years, she's socially introverted, she fears betrayal by men, she pathetically waits around for you…the older, stable man who can give her the love and security she craves, and I'm not supposed to put two and two together? Hello! I profile for a living you know. "
"I scared her," He reluctantly confessed. "I scared myself. I never, never would have touched her, but she thinks I wanted to and she thinks I could in the future. I had forty years of anger about something locked away and when it blew she was there and I blamed her for making it come out of me when I didn't want to let it out. I would have taken it to the grave if it hadn't been forced on me."
"Forty years?" She tilted her head. "A childhood trauma?" She considered Grissom's fear of intimacy. "Were you abused in some way as a child? Were you…"
"No." Breathing in, he fought to overcome his fear of trust.
"You know I'll keep guessing," She groaned as she patted his hand. "Show me you've learned one lesson already. Don't bottle it in there. Let it out."
Losing the standoff, he said, "My father left when I was nine and didn't look back. Yesterday, out of the blue he showed up at the door when I was at work and Sara let him in. She let him in knowing I considered him dead and never wanted to see him. Now I know she let him in because she wanted health-related information from him that she felt was important for me to know."
"So, she was trying to help you by letting your dad in, but she was doing it on the sly."
"Yes." After a hard swallow he continued, "I came home and she tried to get me in the bedroom so I wouldn't find him. I got suspicious…I thought she was hiding a different kind of guy…I thought she was cheating on me. Instead of a lover I found out she was hiding my father."
"Wow." Catherine's eyes widened. "Just for the record, if my mom showed up and suddenly wanted to be my new best friend, I think the SWAT team would be clearing the block while I raged at her."
"I didn't handle it well either."
Trying to inject a little levity, she asked, "Did you tell him if you wanted to kill him you knew a dozen ways to hide a body? Because I loved throwing that one out when some of the losers I dated got pissy with me. Not that I'm endorsing it…I'm just saying it just slips out."
"I did manage to work that in, yes." He sadly admitted, "I said it to my father when he was bad mouthing my mother. But I said it in front of Sara…right before I turned on her…before the shameless pastry throwing and glass launching…before I had her backing up against a wall so I could scream at her and tell her I didn't want to be anywhere near her." The truth confessed, he closed his eyes. "So now…considering her past, you can see why I'm certain she doesn't need me in her life. I'm a terrible husband for her…for any woman."
"Hey." Leaning closer, she whispered, "You think I don't know what it feels like to do something so awful you don't think you can ever recover and stay in a relationship? Guess again. There was a time in my life when I was snorting coke and screwing around with any old sleazebag I picked up at a bar while my baby girl slept in the next room. I wasn't being a horrific mother then, but when I realized it, I didn't walk away and leave my kid. I did what was best for her. I picked myself up, got help, cleaned up my act and gave the relationship another shot. If you've noticed I'm still not perfect at it, but neither Lindsay nor I have given up yet."
"I didn't know it was that bad."
"It was," She assured him. "But having Lindsay move in with Eddie the loser or going to some foster home wouldn't have been good solutions. The best solution was for her mom to get her shit together and give her the love and security she needed. I don't believe for a minute that abandoning Sara is the best thing you can do for her. I think she would be much better off if you could work on yourself and give her what she needs. The two of you belong together. I know she still loves you. You're her lobster."
Grissom narrowed his gaze. "Her lobster?"
Catherine cracked up at his predictable puzzlement. "It's from this show that was on for years, called Friends. It was… think of it this way…it would be like if Greg, Nick, Warrick, Brass, Sara, you and me had our own TV show and we spent a lot of the time sitting around drinking coffee, cracking jokes about each other and lamenting about our screwed up personal lives. After a while, some of us hook up with each other and…come to think of it that does sound like us. Hey! Maybe we could have our own TV show…a thirty minute sitcom showing the warped humorous side of CSIs."
"Let me guess…you'd be the star?"
"Well it sure as hell ain't gonna be Sofia! I can guarantee you that!" Releasing some more tension with humor, she said, "I'd pay the writers to pen her out of the show in the first episode!"
"Okay, enough wishful thinking. Get back to the lobster explanation."
"Right. Okay." She chuckled. "One of the friends, Phoebe, a real ditz but hilarious, is talking to another friend, Ross, the intellectual misfit, who has been pining over one of the girls in the group, Rachel, for years…sound familiar?"
"Vaguely." He smiled for the first time in days.
"When Ross, the romantic illiterate, whines for the millionth time that it will never work out between him and Rachel, Phoebe tells him with full confidence that it will be because Rachel is his lobster. Ross looked at Phoebe like you looked at me when I told you just now that you're Sara's lobster…confused. Hey, another funny thing…this guy, Ross, he's an emotionally stunted Paleontologist which is so close to being an emotionally stunted Entomologist."
"Un-confuse me about the lobster thing."
Releasing Grissom's hand, she animatedly recounted the rest of the details. "Phoebe explains it's a known fact that lobsters fall in love and mate for life. She tells Ross that if you look closely, you'll see old lobster couples walking around holding claws."
"That's not scientifically true and as a Paleontologist, Ross would have known that."
"It's not supposed to be factual! It's supposed to be romantic!"
"Is the girl who Ross likes anything like Sara?"
"Rachel? Not at all…Rachel is slow on the uptake, whiny and sleeps around, and her hair and clothes are much better than Sara's."
"So why is Ross interested in her if she's like that?"
"Because she's his LOBSTER!" Catherine shook her head. "Dammit! Weren't you listening? Ugh!" She dropped her head in her hands and moaned, "I think it took seven seasons to get Ross and Rachel together.
If it takes that long to hook up you and Sara I'll lose my mind."