Second Chances – Part 10
August 8, 2005 (Day 108)
Shoreline Cabins
6:45 p.m.
Standing in front of the fireplace, Sara held up the two jumbo postcards she had written earlier and gave them a final review.
Brian Anderson
Somewhere San Francisco, CA
You always said I was uptight and inhibited but you never thought to ask why or reach out to me. If you had, maybe you would have found I had valid reasons. At a minimum, maybe you wouldn't have laughed behind my back or been man enough to admit I wasn't the girl for you. Instead, you chose to be a self-centered duplicitous jerk who cut me down over my inadequacies. I want to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for giving me a great example of who NOT to date or marry. It came in handy when I was trying to pick the right guy. Sara
Brian and Miranda Anderson,
Somewhere San Francisco, CA
When our paths crossed in San Francisco this June I told you that I was no longer upset about finding the two of you in bed when Brian was supposed to be getting ready for a date with me. I lied. Even though it was six years ago, I was still upset. I don't care how things turned out for the best in the end. At the time it was a really shitty thing for the two of you to do. A little honesty would have spared me one more betrayal in my life full of them. You were both cowards. But I can't change you who you are and your lack of ethics had nothing to do with me. So why harbor animosity over something that's not my problem, right? I wish the two of you the best in your marriage because you deserve each other. For the sake of the child you're having, I sincerely hope you don't eventually do to each other what you did to me. Sara
Pleased with the sentiments on both, Sara flicked her wrist and sent the cards into the flames. "Dr. Myers was right, this is therapeutic." After watching every last inch of the cards turn to cinder, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
The Grissoms'
7:36 p.m.
Walking through the door, Grissom noted the entryway table was out of place. "Why is…"
"EMTs moved it," Catherine informed him as she recalled the terrifying urgency of the situation that played out there earlier. "We all thought you were stroking out so time was of the essence. Well…when I first found you I thought you tried to kill yourself, then I switched to thinking you were stroking out."
"I can't believe you would think I would attempt suicide." While he returned the table to its usual spot, he added, "That would have been the ultimate selfish act for me to do to Sara. The loved ones left behind often feel guilt over suicide. Considering the situation, Sara no doubt would have internalized it to an extreme."
"Well, normally I wouldn't think it, but with the knowledge of Sara leaving you combined with the initial view of the physical evidence…" Sighing, she walked toward the kitchen. "…you on the floor, your bloody hand, empty pill bottles, vomit and a note…it was a valid conclusion."
Recalling the love note from Sara he had torn out of the notebook, he delicately asked, "Did you uh…read the note?"
"Yeah. I read it a few times actually…when I was in the ER waiting room. I used it as an excuse for crying." Reaching into her pants pocket she revealed the referenced piece of paper. "Do you remember my reaction when I showed up at Sara's old apartment to help you search for her credit card number so we could track her down in Tahoe?"
"I recall you exclaiming, 'Wow! Who knew Sara had a warm, feminine side?' as you acquainted yourself with the warm decor of the room. It's easy to remember because it was my reaction too." A tiny smile flushed over his lips. "It was a nice surprise…the first of many for me in regards to Sara."
Grinning, Catherine handed over the love note "Wow! Who knew Sara had a mushy romantic side! There was enough sap in that note to cover a day's worth of pancakes at IHOP!"
"A little shocking, huh?"
"Considering the two of you have been together for almost a year and the first display of affection I everwitnessed out of her was what I saw on TV last week…hell yeah."
"Some people have a private side they rarely let anyone see. Obviously I do." With his head feeling better and his hope on the rise, he released a little laugh. "It's not a concept you're personally familiar with but…"
"Don't be so sure," She warned while leaning against the kitchen island. "I do watch Warrick cross-dressing nightly." When she caught Grissom's stunned expression she burst out laughing. "That's the same look Tawny gave me when I told her Greg likes to wear lingerie and stilettos."
"Oh." In a supportive gesture, he replied, "Well uh…it can be a healthy outlet for…"
"I'm kidding! Neither one is a cross-dresser…" She shrugged. "Or at least they haven't shown a proclivity for the lifestyle in front of me. I was exaggerating your point. Yes, most people have a private side they reserve for only a select few to ever see…and some women save it for one special guy."
Holding up the folded paper, Grissom sweetly said, "She's not usually like this even with me…although recently she was displaying it more frequently. Sara…she has a secret penchant for sappy romance movies…I tease her about it actually. And she loves leaving me notes…sweet ones, funny ones and ones that get on my case about something warranted. I have every one of her notes saved in my desk drawer but these sappy ones are my favorite. One time she even underlined certain words which spelled out a message." His voice overflowed with warmth as he softly said, "I love the sappy notes because it's like catching a rare glimpse of Sara as an unburdened, undamaged woman…a girl who still believes in the purity of love despite the ugliness she's been exposed to along the way…the ugliness she witnessed as a child…" His voice saddened as he tucked the cherished note in his pants pocket. "…the same kind of ugliness she unfortunately had to experience in this room yesterday."
Glancing around, Catherine rubbed her hands together. "Speaking of which…let's give you a therapeutic assignment. Carefully this time…pick up the pieces of shattered glass and while you're doing it, think about why you tend to hurl things when you get pissed. This isn't your first offense. Remember the coffee pot incident with Ecklie? The scotch tumbler incident at your townhouse? Those are the only two I know about but I'm guessing you could think of a few more examples over the last forty years, right?"
"Yes. The first thing I ever pitched in anger was a microscope my father bought me the day he walked out of my life."
"So it's a pattern."
He nodded. "I'm uh…sending Greg to one of those anger-management programs because of his run in with Hodges…specifically his fist running into Hodges' nose. I'm thinking…maybe it would be a good idea if I, as his supervisor, attended with him."
"As his supervisor? Or as a guy who needs to attend?" She scoffed while walking over to the kitchen closet. "You've never been to a rehab program of any kind so I'll give you a tip…acceptance is the first step to recovery, Gil." Retrieving the dustpan and brush, she groaned, "And you have a bunch of things about yourself you need to accept. You need to do some accepting about yourself before Sara will accept you back."
"I know," He replied as he accepted the dustpan and brush from his friend. "I'll attend the program as a guy who needs to attend because he's demonstrated the ability, under duress, to flash to anger in both personal and professional situations."
"Much better." Catherine gave an approving smile. "When you're done with the glass clean up the blood you left all over the kitchen from the cut on your hand. After those two assignments, your next priority is mopping up the chunks you blew all over the bathroom floor, because it was ripe in there when I arrived and that was what…seven hours ago? Luckily you have tile and throw-rugs in there or you'd be ripping out carpet."
"I'm on it."
"While you take care of those things, I'll pick up the pastries and vacuum."
Pausing, he inquired, "Why shouldn't I do that as more therapy?"
With a light chuckle she told him, "By now, the sugar probably attracted bugs and you'd like that! You don't deserve a reward."
Greg's Apartment
8:05 p.m.
"What did I do to deserve this!" Greg excitedly inquired as he walked into the living room. Much to his surprise, he found Tawny was busy making a home-cooked meal. "Wow." Having just woken up, he wore only his Abercrombie green plaid boxers and as he approached the kitchen, he matted down his bed head.
"What did you do not to deserve this is more like it," She sweetly chuckled while rinsing the spaghetti she had boiled. "You brought me Snickers in bed so I'm cooking you dinner."
Breathing in he filled his nose with the tantalizing aroma. "I can't remember the last time real food was cooked in my kitchen by someone else. Wait…the answer is coming to me. Oh yeah…never."
"Don't get too excited," She cautioned. "The sauce is from a jar. But I did add sausage, mushrooms and onions to it."
"It smells fantastic."
"Did you sleep okay?" She asked with a twinge of concern. "I tiptoed in earlier to grab a change of clothes after coming home from work and you were tossing like you were having a bad dream."
"Hmm…I feel rested." Strolling over to the table for two in the corner of room, he bent down and smelled the clay pot planted with bright red flowers. "Impatiens."
Tawny froze. Was he referring to her I love you blurt this morning? Did he think she was prying when she asked about his bad dream? Was it too much? "I'm not impatient!" Catherine had said not to push the issue and she wondered if it was already too late? "I was just…"
"No." Grinning, he joined her at the sink. "Impatiens…the flowers on the table are Impatiens."
"Oh." Her sunny smile returned. "You know about flowers?" It was one more thing she found impressive and romantic about Greg.
"Not really. We once had a dead guy hit in the head with a potted plant. Grissom told me the flowers were Impatiens."
After placing the spaghetti in a large pasta bowl, she turned to Greg. "The guy died from being hit in the head with a plant?"
"No." Greg relaxed against the counter and gave the blow by blow. "The wife launched the plant at her husband to get his attention because he was walking away from her when she wanted to talk about remodeling their kitchen. The pot hit the husband in the back of the head then it proceeded to crash through a large plate glass window. The husband, who was off balance from the surprise blow to the head, fell through the shattered window and a shard of glass impaled him in the jugular which led to him bleeding out in minutes."
Tawny took a minute to play the scene in her head then asked, "What was the wife's reaction?"
"She was devastated." He sighed heavily. "She said she never meant to hurt him, she just wanted to get his attention because he never took the time to hear her out." Greg pointed to the flowers. "Later, when we were processing, Grissom said the real cause of death was impatience by impatiens because if the guy had just stopped and taken the time to listen to his wife, he'd still be alive." Shaking his head, he remarked, "Kind of freaky, huh? One minute they're fine and one throw later…it's all over."
"Whoa." She glanced at the flowers on the table. "Now I wished I picked a different potted plant. I was trying to brighten up this place, but now…"
"It's okay," He assured her while pulling her close. "They'll remind me to listen to you."
Being a math whiz, Tawny loosely applied the Transitive Property to his statement. If the husband didn't listen to the wife so she threw the plant, and Greg believes the plant will remind him to listen to me, then Greg must be thinking of me as wife material. "We'll keep the plant," She happily informed him.
"Sorry…" Bringing his hand to his face he groaned, "I promise to try and keep the violent death stories down to a minimum. Here you are cooking this great meal and I'm talking bleed outs."
"Yeah…and we're having bright red sauce." Noting his discomfort, she cracked a smile. "Really, I don't mind listening. I told you, I'm tough." Running her finger over his lips, she sweetly said, "Just not while we're actually eating, okay?" So far it was going well. She was taking care of all his needs…supporting him emotionally…feeding him. After all, she knew the fastest way to a guy's heart was through his stomach.
"Deal," He replied before kissing her lingering finger. "Mmm…Onion?"
"Pretty sexy, huh?" She joked…until she saw a spark ignite in his eye that quickly traversed his body.
"Uh…actually, onion is a potent aphrodisiac." No longer thinking about his stomach, he hoped her dinner would keep. "It's uh…second only to garlic."
Eyeing him seductively she suggested, "Maybe you should check my neck for garlic." Gathering her hair off her shoulders, she postured and purred, "Because I used a few cloves and distinctly remember a splash against my skin when I crushed the last one." Why not go for the trinity, she mused…support your man emotionally, take care of his stomach and…drive him wild with a good tease utilizing all those professional skills you've perfected over the years.
While Greg's mouth searched for the zesty flavor, Tawny grinned wildly. "Wait…"
He reluctantly pulled back.
"Now that I think about it, the splash hit my neck, but then it slid lower." With a deliberate slowness she popped open the buttons of her blouse to reveal the hot pink lace of her bra. "Why don't you give it another try?"
Breathless, he nodded and followed her instructions.
"Any luck?" She inquired rhetorically while thinking…I can take care of your every need, Greg and I think you're falling for me hard and fast. Good. Then we'll be perfectly matched. In math we call that symmetry.
The Grissoms'
8:29 p.m.
"How's that for symmetry?" Grissom adored the look of surprise on Sara's face as she studied the matching platinum wedding bands. "Those aren't rings I want us to slip on when we're home and take off before we go to work. My intention, if you agree, is to wear them twenty-four seven."
"Are you saying…"
His voice deepened as he continued. "I'm saying that while the vows we exchanged in this room sealed us together in a marriage of true minds, and in my heart they will always be the ones that mean everything to me, I want us to exchange a few more." Taking her hand he lovingly asked, "Sara, will you legally marry me? My name, like my heart and my soul, is yours if you want it."
Returning the wedding photo to its place on their dresser, Grissom gave a heavy sigh. "Are you still wearing your ring, Sara?" Since she hadn't tossed it on the bed with her other possessions, he was hopeful she hadn't taken it off when she left. Staring at his left hand, he couldn't see his band for it was buried under the bandages covering his stitches.
"I'm back!"
His heart skipped a beat.
"I have your prescriptions!"
But of course it was only Catherine. "I'm in the bedroom," He yelled back relieved it wasn't Sara returning. There was still too much he needed to do before he could face her.
"You look much better now that you've showered. I'm certainly looking forward to you smelling better," Catherine teased as she strolled over carrying three prescription bags. Tossing the first on the dresser she said, "Two bottles of Imitrex, one for home and one for your kit." She dangled the next one in front of him. "Imitrex Statdose auto-injector syringes just in case a migraine comes on too strong to wait for pills to kick in. And lastly, 800mg Motrin," Laughing she said, "Works great on menstrual cramps…the pharmacist also said it would work as an anti-inflammatory for headaches."
"Thanks for picking them up for me." He gathered the bags, preparing to take them to the bathroom.
"That's a great photo." She couldn't ignore its presence. "Why don't you have one on your desk at work?" Picking it up, she studied their ecstatic smiles.
"We wanted to keep a low profile," He quietly replied while heading for the bathroom to stow his prescriptions. "After our TV appearance propelled us into the spotlight I decided to bring one in, but I didn't have a frame. I was planning on buying one tomorrow with Sara when we went to my ENT appointment. She was accompanying me to ensure I didn't miss it for a third time…another thing I have to accept about myself…I have an irrational tendency to put off things which are in my best interest if I think the action might reveal something I don't want to know. "
"Isn't that why you never asked out Sara until it was almost too late?" She groaned. "Fear of rejection?"
"Most of the time it was fear of acceptance. I knew she would say yes and then we'd be on the road to the end. Pessimistic I know but, considering where we are right now, maybe I wasn't that far off." He returned from the bathroom holding one bottle of Imitrex. "Getting back to the photo…I was actually looking forward to being like all the other guys with photos on their desks. Now of course…"
"I think you should still buy the frame and put the picture on your desk." She returned the wedding photo to its proper spot. "It will keep you motivated."
"I've been thinking about what you said, about taking some action to clean up my act." He stuffed the lone bottle of Imitrex he had retained from the bags into his pants pocket. "I'll sign up for the Anger Management class, I'll go to my ENT appointment and then maybe…I was checking Sara's calendar and I saw she has an appointment with Dr. Myers tomorrow. What do you think I should do about that? It's too late to cancel the appointment, so I'll be paying for it."
Seeing his struggle, Catherine re-directed. "I had coffee with Tawny today."
"You did?" He was happy for the reprieve as well as curious. "Why?"
"Greg asked me to mentor her a little." Chuckling she checked her appearance in the mirror above Grissom's dresser. "You know…retired dancer turned career woman helping her make the transition. That girl…I wish I still had energy like hers."
"She and Dom Perignon have the market on bubbly."
Catherine laughed at the joke. "And she's head over heels for Greg."
"Do you think he's her lobster?"
"I don't know about that, but he's definitely a catch in her eyes." Forcing herself to stop obsessing over her hair, she turned from the mirror and faced Grissom. "She told me about the arrangement you made with Dr. Myers for her."
"Oh."
"You're footing the bill but she doesn't know it."
"She has some issues and I wanted to help." He folded his arms across his chest. "I thought giving Tawny the opportunity to get some sound professional help to work through her issues would give her relationship with Greg, and their future baby, a better shot at happiness."
"Do you think it will reflect poorly on Tawny if she goes to therapy? I mean…will Greg look down on her for being weak because she can't figure things out on her own?"
"No. Why would he think that?"
"You tell me." She mirrored his posture. "I mean…why have you never gone to therapy?"
"I don't like to talk about myself."
"Really?" Deciding not to follow up with sarcasm, she probed, "Do you think the fact that you can't talk about yourself to other people could be a sign you need some therapy?"
"Are you suggesting I should take Sara's appointment?"
"Is that something you think might help you?" Before he could answer, she smiled and said, "For the record I'm talking to you like a therapist and you're doing just fine. I'm not giving you the answers anymore…I'm making you discover them on your own."
"Oh." Dropping his arms to his side, he informed her, "Well…I told Tawny that she should go because the issues she has to deal with are bigger than she or Greg could handle."
"And what did you say to Sara when you set up her therapy with Dr. Myers?"
"The same thing…her issues were too significant to deal with on her own. I told her she needed professional help because I could be her support structure but I couldn't be the solution to those problems."
"You are a brilliant man with fantastic insight," She smiled wider. "But how often do you apply your insightfulness to yourself?"
Shaking his head, he huffed, "I believe the correct answer is…not often enough."
Clapping, she teased, "Ding ding! Give the man a prize."
"Is that therapy talk?"
"No, that's me being snarky." Turning on her heels, she headed for the door. "Let's go, I grabbed some take out when I went to the pharmacy. Dinner is waiting in the kitchen."
Greg's Apartment
9:10 p.m.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Greg breezed into the room showered and dressed for work in jeans and an untucked white and blue pinstripe shirt. "Did dinner survive the wait?"
"Pasta's a little sticky but…" Tawny winked as she cinched her short pink satin robe. "…I think it's a small price to pay."
Taking a seat, he informed her, "I'm so blissed out right now you could feed me the box the pasta was packaged in and I'd think it was the best meal I ever had."
With two bowls in hand, Tawny approached the table smiling. "At least you'll be relaxed when you start your shift. Hopefully tonight won't be like last night."
"I certainly hope not." He grabbed the parmesan cheese shaker that was on the table and coated his saucy noodles. "At least I have stuff to talk about in my mandatory PEAP counseling sessions."
Looking at his still bruised face, Tawny sighed. "Will Hodges be there tonight?"
"Should be."
"I forgot to tell you." She mindlessly twirled her fork in her pasta while she spoke. "I made my first therapy appointment."
"Great," He replied after swallowing the clump of pasta he had shoveled in his mouth. "Between your therapy and my mandated counseling and anger management sessions, you and I are going to be fit to be great parents by the time the baby arrives."
It was exciting to hear him mention the baby but at the same time it activated her paranoia. Her 'friends' words echoed in 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?
Putting down his fork, Greg paused for a sip of water. "I forgot to tell you something too."
"What?" She forced her friends' words out of her head.
"My mom called." Picking up his fork, he said, "She wanted to come out to meet you but I told her not to waste her time."
Alarms rang in Tawny's head and once again her friends sang like a pessimistic chorus in her mind… 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. "Oh…um…"
Twisting his fork, he said, "I told her she'll meet you next month when I take you home with me for Labor Day weekend then, afterwards I realized that I just assumed you would go with me. I didn't ask. Sorry about that. Do you think you can get off work and come with me because I'd love for you to meet my mom?"
"Yes!" A geyser of enthusiasm, she screamed, "Are you kidding? Yes!"
"Great!" In his excitement over her happiness, he dropped a strand of spaghetti on his shirt. Without thinking, he plucked it off and popped it in his mouth. "Oh…" He flashed a tense smile. "I just lost a cool point for that didn't I?"
Beaming, she told him, "Don't sweat it. You still have 999 to go."
"That should get me through the month at least." Wiping the stain on his shirt, he groaned, "This is my most conservative shirt. I was trying to tone it down tonight to increase my odds of not pissing off Grissom."
Shoreline Cabins
9:32 p.m.
To my husband,
I know my stealthy approach about hiding your father was foolish and bound to upset you. I also realize now, my response was instinctual. As a child I stopped at nothing to prevent my parents from fighting…even lying.
I want you to know that I understand using sex to lure you into the bedroom was wrong and only added to your shock and humiliation. We both know that there are only two things that make you stop thinking of anything else…bugs and sex. Caught without a jar full of beetles, I did the best with what I had so I could distract you and prevent the confrontation between you and your father. I can only imagine how awful you felt in those seconds when you thought I was cheating on you and then to find out it was your father I was hiding clearly ripped you apart. I'm sorry for putting you through that experience. I assure you it will never happen again in the future because I've seen what lying, even with the best intentions, can do to you…to us. I learned my lesson.
I do want you to understand that the only reason I let your father in was to gather critical health information. I was worried about your heart…kind of ironic since I broke it hours later.
Once your father was inside I let him stay because he had other information I longed to know…stories about you. He was willing to give me the information in exchange for a simple glass of water. He made it easy. You make it so hard. That's why I let him stay… ironic again, since my thirst to get closer to you drove you away hours later. I'm sorry about this too. I'm sorry that you couldn't open up to me more. I'm sorry that I let myself jump through hoops to learn more about you. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to assert myself and say that I needed more.
I hope that you are thinking of these things too. I hope you're trying to understand what really happened and why we did and said the things we did. I need you to discover and accept some things. I need you to change some things too. I need to change some things so I'm staying here until I work through these issues. Please don't find me until you do the same. If you don't think it's important to do these things…I'd rather you not find me even though it will be hard to go our separate ways.
In my heart I know we can get through this and be better for it. In your mind, do you feel the same way? What about in your heart? I hope you do. Prove to me you care by doing some work. When you've worked on yourself, find me. If you think about it, you will know how. I used my old credit card for a reason. Take some time, do what's necessary and then find me.
Love,
Sara
Sitting on the couch, Sara looked up from the journal. The cabin was quiet except for the sound of the crackling fire. Closing the book, she tucked it under the bed pillow she had on the couch. "Enough thinking for one day," She sighed as she stood up. "I need to give my exhausted mind a break."
Crime Lab
Break Room
9:55 p.m.
Greg was making a special pot of Kona Diamond when Grissom walked in and asked, "How's your face today, Slugger? I just saw Hodges and he's got cotton jammed up his nose and two black eyes."
"Well…I may be bruised on the outside but inside, I'm perfect…better than perfect…fantastic!" He held up an empty mug. "In less than two minutes you will have your favorite cup of coffee…Kona Diamond."
"I hope you're not doing this to suck up to me." It was the last thing Grissom wanted. "I was the one who snapped at and belittled you, remember?"
"No, I'm not sucking up, I'm celebrating! You just happen to be at the party!" Greg spun around and checked the progress of the pot. "Tonight it's official…I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
"Tawny?" Grissom inquired in a bittersweet tone. It was nice to see Greg so blissful but it reminded him of his loss.
"She is…the perfect woman for me." Greg turned and flashed a brilliant smile at his boss.
Grissom returned the grin. "Is she your lobster?"
"Ha!" Greg shook with laughter. "You watch Friends? No way I believe that."
"No," He chuckled lightheartedly for the first time in days. "Catherine told me about it and I absorbed it."
Quoting his boss's comment from yesterday, he retorted, "You absorb everything." Grabbing the fresh pot of gourmet coffee, he started pouring.
"In the past I absorbed everything, even things people told me that I shouldn't have believed, but going forward I think I'm testing out your approach." He accepted the mug he was offered. "I'm going to try to absorb only the stuff worth soaking up."
Teasingly Greg asked, "You want some crème for that, Grasshopper?"
"No thanks, I'm watching my cholesterol." He raised the mug. "Congratulations on finding your lobster, Greg."
"Thanks but, I didn't findmy lobster, she found you. As I recall it, she had one pincer on your wallet and one pincer on your ass when I first saw encountered her. Luckily, you passed on seafood that night."
"I passed because I already had my lobster at home." Lowering his mug, he grinned. "You know what they say…lobsters mate for life. So now that you have yours, take my advice…do everything you can to hold onto her, because she's one of a kind."