Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
"Birthday Boys – Part 2"
August 16, 2005 (Day 116)
The Grissoms'
8:15 p.m.
Sitting at the kitchen table eating a healthy dinner of broiled ginger salmon on mixed greens, Sara counted the minutes until her husband would be out of the house.
"You look tense…like you're trying to keep a secret," Gil declared as he scooped up the remainder of his salad. "Something on your mind?" As his fork full of greens entered his mouth he studied her eyes.
"No," She replied through a plastered smile. "You're imagining things."
"I think you're bluffing."
"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not." Leaning over she eyed him through a narrow gaze. "Look a little closer."
He announced his decision with a smirk. "You're hiding something."
Grabbing her empty plate, she headed for the sink so he wouldn't keep staring. "You're not used to living with someone on the eve of your birthday. I'm hiding a couple of things from you and you'll have to deal with it because I'm not going to spoil the surprises."
"I've had some rather big surprises lately, so forgive me if I'm a little gun-shy." Joining her at the sink, he handed over his plate and brushed a kiss over her cheek. "I already loved my pre-birthday surprise…underlining that passage…and your note." From behind, he slipped his arms around her waist. "Thank you for going out of your way to make the day special even when you aren't feeling 100 percent."
Relaxing against him, she chuckled, "After all the crap I gave you about missing mine last year…of course I had to make yours special!"
"A-ha!"
"Yeah…I'm busted." Turning to face him she oozed with self-satisfaction. "It's all a big game of one-upmanship. Now, don't you think you should go to work a little early tonight and complete some of that supervisory paperwork you've been putting off? It won't be very nice to leave it all for Warrick when he takes over on Monday."
His pleasure over her thoughtfulness rivaled his fear of the unknown. "You're trying to get rid of me."
"Just this one time." She snatched a kiss. "And for a good cause."
"You said you had a very quiet, innocent day planned for my birthday."
"I wasn't bluffing," She assured him with a direct look in the eye. "The raucous, sinful evening is Saturday night when our friends invade."
Shuddering, he begged, "Please tell me there won't be dancing."
"Well…Catherine and Tawny will be here so…" Laughing at his apprehensiveness, she caved, "I absolutely swear there will be no mandated dancing and I'm sincerely hoping there won't be any voluntary dancing either." And when she saw he was still fearful, she gave in further. "Okay…okay…it's a poker party."
"Really?" He lit up like a Christmas tree. "Is Greg playing?"
"No!" With disdain in her voice she scolded, "He told me about losing 500 bucks to you. How could you take his money when he has a baby on the way and Tawny is only waitressing?"
"Honey…" He educated her, "Guys don't welch on bets. It's just not done. It's an unwritten rule…kind of like the one where wives don't tell another living soul when their husband has ONE bad day in the bedroom."
"Ah." She nodded vehemently. "For the record, I've never uttered a word about your performance to anyone."
Joking, he told her, "Feel free to expound on the fantastic all you'd like."
"I'll be sure to work it into the conversation with everyone over cake in the break room tomorrow."
"Great!" He enthusiastically replied.
"You're bluffing."
"Absolutely." Taking her hand, he started for the hall. "I took Greg's money, but I used it to open a bank account on Monday…in trust for the future baby Sanders."
"Aww." She gave his hand a squeeze. Appreciative of the gesture toward the future baby Sanders. "You're such a softy." Cringing she whispered, "Sorry."
"I'm going to work now."
McCarran Airport
8:29 p.m.
Dressed demurely in a new delicate white and lavender floral strapless dress with a modest a-line silhouette which reached just above the knee, Tawny tried to control her rapidly escalating pulse rate. It didn't help that the bust-minimizing garment she was wearing restricted her breathing and the air conditioning in the terminal seemed to be on the fritz. "How much longer?" The plane had arrived three minutes ago and she couldn't imagine what was taking so long.
"Sweetie..." Greg grabbed her hand. "Airport management will make me pay for new carpeting if you wear a hole in it with your pacing." Truthfully he was just as nervous, but he was putting on a brave face for her benefit. At one point he even checked for sweat stains under the arms of the blueberry and green Lacoste striped button-down he was wearing…a shirt his mom had given him for his birthday.
Glancing down at her lavender dress sandals, she panted, "Are you sure I look okay? Do you think wearing a ponytail was a good idea? I don't want to look trampy. Do I look trampy?"
Staring at her cherubic face, he assured her, "You look wholesome enough to make me want to go to confession for fooling around with you earlier…and I'm not even Catholic!"
Too frazzled to think, she stared at her boyfriend. "Huh?"
"You look like jail bait!" Greg exclaimed, feeling a little guilty for enjoying the view, but taking solace in the knowledge that she was really twenty-two. "If I kiss you in public I'll probably be hauled into the station on a statutory charge."
"Oh," She eased into a smile. "So I look sweet and innocent."
Swinging her hand in his, he matched her smile. "I'm getting a cavity just lookin' at you." He wondered if it was too overboard. "If my mom is about to slap me for robbing the cradle, do me a favor and whip out your driver's license so we can prove your age."
"What if she hates me?" Tawny whimpered, feeling her pregnancy hormones surge.
"Everyone I've introduced you to has adored you." Leaning in, he tenderly kissed her glossy lips. "My mom is going to love you."
Just as Tawny was about to ask, 'do you love me, Greg?', a grey-haired passerby scowled at Greg as she snipped, "I bet you can't find someone your own age because of the silly hair."
"She's twenty-two," He snapped back at the nosy old woman. Then he said it louder for the benefit of everyone seated nearby. "She's twenty-two and I'm thirty, okay? A totally respectable eight year age difference! And I'll have you know I'm crazy about her and my intentions are bona fide! We're here to meet my mother. I'm not a pig!"
For the first time since Greg told her about his mom's unexpected visit, she laughed. "Are you crazy about me or are you just crazy, Greggy?" She inquired with her heart suddenly pounding for a new reason. He's crazy about me, she thought. Very close to those three words I long to hear…
"Are you Tawny?" Bev Sanders inquired in a spirited tone as she approached the vivacious girl she spied next to her son. One look and she panicked. Impregnating a stripper out of wedlock she could tolerate from her impetuous son. Impregnating an underage stripper out of wedlock would drive her to kill him.
"Y…yes." Standing eye to eye with the woman who could make or break her future happiness, Tawny fell speechless. Equal at five foot four, they locked eyes and exchanged smiles.
"Mom!" Greg boisterously threw his arms around her to give Tawny a minute to catch her breath. "You look great! I love what you've done with your hair! You went lighter and I love the texturized layers!" He couldn't stand the dowdy shoulder-length poker-straight bob she had sported for the last two years that made her look older than her fifty-seven years. "They'll mistake you for a high school senior when you return to teach next month."
Thrilled to have her only child in her arms, Bev momentarily forgot about the mother of her future grandchild who she worried was a high school senior. "I thought you'd be pleased. Your father likes it too. He thinks I'm hot…can't keep his hands off me."
"Don't squick me out, okay." He kissed her cheek. "I was flown in by the stork and that's the way it needs to stay."
"Speaking of the stork." Raising her brow at her loving son she said, "You distracted me."
Slipping his arm around Tawny's shoulders, Greg took a deep breath. "Tawny Ann Cooper, I'd like you to meet my mom, Beverly Hojem-Sanders." Stepping back, he waited with baited breath for his two worlds to collide.
Extending her hand, Tawny cracked a nervous smile. "It's so nice to meet you. Greg's told me so much about you."
Ignoring the hand, Bev wrapped her arms around Tawny, pulling her in for a warm hug. "You're carrying my grandchild and you tolerate my son…that makes you automatically huggable."
Returning the embrace, Tawny felt a tiny wave of relief. Then Mrs. Sanders asked, "Now, would you mind showing me your driver's license before I have a heart attack."
The Grissoms'
8:45 p.m
When the doorbell rang, Sara hurried to answer it, eager to greet her company. "Wendy, I can't thank you enough for helping me with this."
"It's my pleasure," She cheerily replied while entering the house with two large shopping bags. "The statute of limitations on my gratitude toward what your husband did for my family will never be up." Setting her bags down, she placed her purse and keys on the entryway table.
Sara nodded at the profound statement. "He'd say he was just doing his job."
Wendy quickly changed gears. "You sound much better today than you did on the phone yesterday. How are you feeling?"
"Much better, thanks." She shut the front door and directed Wendy down the hall.
Glancing around at the impressive architecture and inviting decor, Wendy remarked, "You have an absolutely gorgeous home, Sara."
"Thank you. I guess I thought you had seen it before because Sean has been here a few times…"
"I hope he's not too much of a pest for Gil," She sighed. "If you don't want him to stop by tomorrow…"
"Are you kidding?" Sara flashed a smile. "Spending time with Sean has convinced Gil that he could be a good father. Especially the last outing to Primm. He's welcome anytime."
Wendy tried to resist the temptation to nose, but failed. "How are things going in the baby department, if you don't mind me asking?" She placed the shopping bags on the kitchen island and awaited a reply.
"Two months of no luck, but I'm feeling very good about this month's attempt." Grinning, she lowered her voice as if other people might hear. "I used a fertility monitor and we just finished up for the month so we'll know in a couple of weeks."
Unloading the groceries, Wendy copped a motherly tone. "I know you're a scientist, who likes predictability, but as a mother of four I urge you to try to leave some fun in the process or it will start to seem like a chore." She chuckled, "There are enough chores after the baby arrives and little time to have fun!"
Reaching for the special cookbook, Sara lightly huffed, "Yeah…uh…I think I got a too little militant this month."
"May I see the book?" Wendy politely asked. "Ever since you told me about it, I've been thinking how I'd love to make them for my children one day."
"Sure." Sara handed over Jillian's cookbook which she made for Gil when he graduated college and moved into his first apartment. "Check the flagged page. That's the Chicken Casserole recipe I sent you via e-mail. She made a note about it being his favorite supper."
"This is wonderful," She remarked while flipping through the detailed pages. "Definitely the work of a mother who loved her son."
"Yeah." Sara released a bittersweet sigh, "It's sad that our future child won't know her. He'll only know one grandparent, Gil's dad." At least she hoped things would work out with Ron and their little family would have at least one more member.
"It's the same with my children, I'm afraid." She returned the cookbook to Sara's hands. "Paul and Carrie's dad is the only surviving grandparent and he is determined to stay in California. Well…maybe once Carrie and Nick have a child he'll change his mind."
"That should be approximately nine months after the honeymoon, don't you think?"
"To the minute," Wendy agreed while donning her apron. "Okay…here's the deal. Based on your desire to reduce the fat in the recipe, I played around with it, making it twice. The consensus from my neighbors…because you know I'm a vegetarian and don't eat chicken…was that the second version was best." She handed Sara a note card embossed with 'From the Blake Kitchen to Yours' above the hand written recipe. "Hopefully it will smell and taste the same to give the proper nostalgic effect."
"This is great!" Sara was happy to have a competent partner in crime. "I never would have known how to do this. I feel so incompetent in the kitchen."
"That's okay, Dear." With a warm smile on her face, she handed Sara an apron. "I never knew that blood spatter analysis could convict my sister's killer until you explained it to me. We all have our strengths."
Slipping the apron over her head, Sara joked, "Speaking of skills, I'm grateful you're a cook with years of experience as a burn unit nurse so, if I scorch myself trying to cook, you'll be able to treat me!"
Carson's Café
9:02 p.m.
In the bustling café, Bev Sanders sat in the booth across from her son and his pregnant girlfriend trying to come to terms with it all…the fact her son was really a grown man…the idea that she would be a grandma in less than eight months…the disbelief that the beautiful, sweet, attentive girl at her son's side used to tear her clothes off for money…the knowledge that her innocent little boy recklessly bedded a girl who used to tear her clothes off for money. Hearing about it over the phone was surreal, but seeing it in person brought the reality crashing down around her.
"Mom?" Greg tapped her hand. "The waitress is asking for your order."
Snapping out of her daze, Bev apologized to the young lady, "Sorry!" Glancing at the menu, which she hadn't read, she said, "I'll have the turkey sandwich." After all, every café had a turkey sandwich.
"Which one?" Marcy the waitress prodded.
"Oh." Bev returned her gaze to the menu, searching for the turkey sandwich choices. "Ah…the Southwest, please. And a glass of Pinot Grigio."
"Look out, Mom's boozing," Greg teased as he glanced over at her. "You only drink wine when you're really tense."
"Well, I am tense," She confirmed in a casual tone laced with hysteria. "After all, it's not every day I get to meet the mother of my future grandchild…which is a mouthful to say by the way, but my son's girlfriend seems a little too casual considering the circumstances, don't you think, son? When I think girlfriend, I think 'hey, let's go to the movies'."
Tawny remained quiet while agreeing wholeheartedly with the woman she hoped would one day be her mother-in-law.
Subtlety never his mother's strong suit, Greg shifted uncomfortably in the booth. "I uh…prefer significant other," He finally answered.
"Really?" She rolled her eyes. "Are you sure that's not too much? I mean she's only carrying your child…do you think that really warrants the term significant?"
Tawny sat back and enjoyed the banter.
"Could we uh…not talk about this right now, Mom?" Greg forced a smile. "I don't want to make Tawny uncomfortable."
Turning her attention toward the sweet young thing, Bev said, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Dear." Although she wondered how anything could be more uncomfortable than walking around pregnant and not having a commitment from the father of the child.
"I'm okay," Tawny assured her. "I know this is all a big shock. It came as a total shock to me too!"
"Oh…a total shock." Bev patted the girl's hand. "So, you didn't know that having unprotected sex could result in pregnancy?"
"Um…"
The waitress returned in the nick of time. "One glass of Pinot, a Cranberry Juice with club soda, and a Corona."
After taking a lengthy sip, Bev smiled. "That's okay, Tawny. We both know who was the irresponsible party that night."
"It was morning actually because Greg…um..." She realized a little too late that she was oversharing, "…Greg used to work nights…like me." Lowering her head, she sipped her virgin cocktail.
A little surprised by his mother's interrogation, he said, "Mom, I thought we worked all of this out on the phone?"
"We did…" Clutching her wine glass, she unleashed a heavy sigh. "But now that I see the two of you together and Tawny…Tawny, Honey, you're so young and you just started college…And other than carnally, you barely know each other...there's no commitment…you don't have a house…you have no money saved to buy a place…I'm scared to death for the two of you, and…and…" Glaring at her boy, she griped, "Ugh! It all just makes me want to strangle you all over again, Greggy!"
Trying to help matters, Tawny announced, "It's the ponytail making me look so young." Quickly she unleashed it and with stripper flair, fluffed out her hair. "See…isn't that better?"
In reply, Bev downed the contents of her wine glass.
Crime Lab
Grissom's Office
9:46 p.m.
While Grissom was busy wading through personnel files trying to clean things up before handing over the job to Warrick, Catherine strolled in holding a gift and made herself comfortable in a guest chair.
His eyes still focused on the file in front of him, Grissom remarked, "I sense you're about to torture me about something."
"If you think receiving a gift is torture then, yes I am." With a buoyant smile, she plunked the medium-sized package covered in cartoon bug gift wrap and adorned with curly blue ribbon on his desk. "Happy Birthday! It's been one hell of a year and you deserve this."
Removing his glasses, Grissom looked at the gift and then at her. "You really didn't have to…"
"Don't!" She demanded while enjoying his discomfort. "To minimize the torture, I promise to say everything I have to say in one swoop so you don't have to squirm for long. All you have to do is sit there and take it like a man."
As the flush of discomfort heated his cheeks, he nodded.
Once he was complacent, she let her sentiments flow, "Congratulations on your Master Criminalist position, finally you have a title worthy of your expertise and I wish you the best. I will miss working with you…" She chuckled briefly. "…notice I didn't say for you."
Pushing past the awkwardness, Grissom smiled.
Softening her tone, she continued, "I'm really proud of you how much you've grown personally this year and look forward to being included in the rest of your journey. And lastly, and most importantly, I'm grateful for our friendship and delighted that you finally felt comfortable enough…or desperate enough, to open up and ask me for help when you needed it throughout the year. And when you did ask, and I gave my advice, it made me feel good that you took it. I hope we can continue to strengthen our relationship because…you're like family to me." After a quick exaggerated breath, she announced, "Okay…I think that's enough torture. Open your gift."
Moved by her words, he dug deep to muster a reply. "Thank you."
"You haven't opened it yet."
"For what you said." Taking the gift in his hands, he studied it for a moment then slid the ribbons.
"Any guesses?" She taunted.
"Too afraid," He replied while peeling off the colorful bug wrapping. "Nice paper."
"I'm saving the rest of the roll in case I need to wrap a baby gift in the future." Her anticipation grew as he grabbed his scissors to slice open the heavy tape on the cardboard box and when his eyes took in the contents, she shrilled with pleasure. "I had it custom made for you."
"Catherine…" With care, he removed the bronze sculpture of an antique microscope. "It's exquisite…the attention to detail."
Thrilled with his reaction, she informed him, "There's an inscription on the bottom."
Tossing on his glasses, Grissom lifted the beautiful sculpture and read the personal message.
Always remember…
Lift your head out of that microscope.
Every year, a little more.
Overwhelmed by the gesture, he found himself only capable of gaping at her.
After a wink, Catherine spoke for him in a cocky tone. "I know. You love it. And in your own communicatively dysfunctional way, you're telling me that you like having me in your life and feel a little something for me too. Next birthday, after you've been in therapy for a year…I'll expect a verbal response."
Clearing a special place on his desk for the gift, he finally responded in a grateful tone, "Thanks for the reprieve."
"Now enough about you, let's focus on me." She kicked back in the chair, tossing her hair off her shoulder. "This aging thing stinks. Do you know what I realized today? Tawny is only eight years older than Lindsay! We were at the Cheesecake factory and the two of them were hittin' it off talking about guys and movies. How scary is that? I'm old enough to be Tawny's mother! When did this happen?" She shook her head. "I need you to approve a vacation request before you switch jobs because I don't want to ask Warrick because I already know he doesn't approve of my vacation plan."
Confused, he asked, "You're going somewhere without him?"
Frustrated, she groaned, "Desert Palms outpatient surgery center for a little nip, tuck and boost. They can fit me in on Monday, September 19th and I'll need the rest of the week."
"Ah." Reclining in his chair, he removed his reading glasses. "I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Warrick that it's unnecessary."
"Easy for you to say when you're not the one with the sagging boobs!"
"Uh…"
Confident with her decision she lectured, "Just wait until you wake up one day and find one of your previously perky body parts drooping, my friend. You'll feel my pain and be grateful there are alternatives! If I could pop a pill and get my melons to stand at attention for hours, I would, but as usual…things are more complicated for women than men. Hell, maybe I should spend some extra time in the lab trying to invent Viagra for boobs!"
Reaching for a form he eagerly said, "We don't need to discuss it anymore, let's take care of it right now."
"It's so depressing. I swear I was twenty-two yesterday." Her mood dropped lower. "I sat there looking at Tawny today thinking, where did the last twenty years of my life go?"
While filling out his portion of the form Grissom listened to her vent.
"She probably rolls out of bed in the morning looking that gorgeous!" Running her fingers through her hair, she grumbled, "It takes a half hour each night to fight the ravages of time and then a half hour each morning to camouflage their existence!"
"Catherine…" Smiling, he dropped his pen. "You know one of the things I love about having you in my life?"
A little shocked by his question and tone, she shook her head. "No, what?"
"In less than two hours I'll turn forty-nine…one year away from a big, depressing 50 years old, and yet, instead of consoling me, you're sitting in my office whining about how you feel old and looking to me for sympathy." Handing over the form, his smile widened. "It's times like these when I catch a glimpse of what it must be like to have a sister."
On edge, she probed, "A younger sister or an older sister?"
"A gorgeous, vivacious, highly self-absorbed, younger sister."
Taking the form, she cracked a grin. "Thanks, bro."
"Before you go, I have a gift for you too." Opening his desk drawer he snickered, "I picked it up in Tahoe at an outdoor store and was waiting for the courage to tease you with it. This sibling rapport we have going at the moment seems appropriate so…here you go." He handed her the box. "I thought it would be a nice addition to your kit in case you ever find yourself in a jam like we were in the basement of Harper House."
"The Whiz?" Cocking her head she read the description above the picture of the silver funnel-like object. "The Whiz gives women the freedom to pass urine whenever and wherever they choose. The device is hygienic and easy to use. Simply hold it against the body and let gravity do the rest."
Starting to laugh, he reminded her, "When we were trapped without a bathroom, I believe your words were something like, 'the only time I ever want to be a man is when I have to pee. You guys can just unzip, whip out the one-eyed wonder and piss three feet away.' Well…other than paying for a surgery that Warrick would definitely not appreciate, this is the best I can do to make your wish come true."
"This is funny," She announced while joining him in laughter. "This is very funny! This is lifting your head out of the microscope big time. The old Gil never would have given me The Whiz and he never would have discussed peeing with me."
Taking her up on the offer, he replied in a professorial tone, "Peeing is a biological necessity which…"
Carson's Café
10:02 p.m.
Fidgeting in the booth, Tawny whispered in Greg's ear, "I need you to slide out for a sec, Sweetie. I'm going to burst if I don't use the restroom." Then she turned to Mrs. Sanders. "Sorry…one minute I'm fine and the next I'm about to explode!"
Knowing she meant business, Greg jumped up and let her dash away. "She's been like this all week."
"I remember it well," Bev sighed. "All three times I was pregnant." Recalling her two heartbreaking pregnancy losses, one before Greg and one after, she said, "I'll be praying Tawny has an easier time than I did."
Taking his mom's hand, Greg smiled, "Are you hoping it's a girl?" He knew the two babies she had lost were girls…sisters he never had a chance to meet.
"A healthy baby is my primary concern." Then she let the truth trickle out along with a smile. "But when I was in Nordstrom the other day I did find myself lingering in the pink section of their baby department."
Until now, Greg was hoping for a son, but upon seeing the glimmer in his mom's eyes, his wish changed.
"Tawny's a lovely girl, Greg," Bev confessed. "In fact, I can't imagine her up on a stage degrading herself…" Shaking her head, she asked, "What made her choose such a life? Was it the easy money?"
"It's complicated."
"All better!" Tawny cheered as she approached the table. "I'm getting fast, aren't I?"
Greg released his mom's hand and slid over so Tawny could fit.
Snuggling into his arms, she said, "I can't believe how little room it seems like I have in there. I'm starting to worry it's twins!"
Bev watched the color drain from her son's face and chuckled. "Guess you never considered that possibility, huh?"
Just then, the waitress delivered the check. "It's on me, Greg," Bev announced when her son rushed to grab it. "Do you have any idea how much a pack of diapers costs?"
"Uh…" He and Tawny exchanged ignorant glances. "No."
"$100 dollars per month for the first few months." Tossing her Platinum Visa on top of the check, she tutored, "In an effort to scare the crap out of high schoolers, we implemented a new health curriculum that teaches this sort of thing to teens nowadays. In case any of the students approached us on personal matters, all the teachers, regardless of subject were required to attend a workshop on it." Looking at the two clueless future parents, she bestowed her knowledge. "College education included, it will cost $500,000 to raise your child."
"Holy shit!" Tawny shrieked before covering her mouth and apologizing. "Sorry."
Bev chuckled, "No, I think your comment is absolutely correct. You're in deep shit." Glancing at Tawny's well endowed chest. "Are you planning on breastfeeding?"
"I'm hoping to, but since I uh…"
"Had a boob job?" As if she thought it were humanly possible for a petite waif to have such large breasts.
"Yeah…" She nervously replied, "They might not work. We have to wait and see."
"I hope so, because formula will set you back $300 each month. So, formula and diapers alone is $400 per month. What else?"
Greg tapped his significant other on the shoulder. "Now I have to go." Racing out of the booth, he said, "I think I'm gonna hurl."
The Grissoms'
10:25 p.m.
Looking at the sautéed chicken bits, Wendy shook her head. "Can't stand the look of chicken, raw or cooked. The only time I ever ate the stuff was when I was pregnant and craving it."
"Really?" Sara exclaimed while salivating over the chicken in the pan. "Because all of a sudden on Sunday…I ate matzoh ball soup with chicken broth and then yesterday, when Gil was at work, I snuck some of his chicken breast from the fridge. Right now I'm fighting the urge to snatch a piece from the pan."
Smiling, Wendy said, "It could be a craving, or it could be wishful thinking. I know it's hard but try to stay calm and not read into everything. Although, I have to admit, I was the same way when I was trying for the first time. I thought everything was a sign."
Putting down her sauté spoon, Sara dropped her guard and asked, "What are the real signs? I mean, I've read all the books but I want to hear the real story from an expert."
"Well…everyone is different, so what I say about me might not be true for you, and remember, my first pregnancy was with twins, but here goes." Wiping her hands on a dishrag, she recounted her symptoms. "With all three pregnancies I conceived on the first attempt and had sore boobs within a week of conception. I also had wicked cramping a bit lower than normal and a little spotting."
"Implantation bleeding?" She queried, having read about it in her books.
"Exactly." Readying the Tupperware for the pre-cooked chicken, she continued, "Talk about being antsy; with my first pregnancy, I must have run to the bathroom a hundred times a day thinking I was about to get my period, but it never came. Paul and I did the test a few days after I was supposed to get it and sure enough…I was pregnant." Sighing, she said, "Of course, the stress didn't end there. I had spotting for the first four months…always around the same time I was due to get my period."
"I've read that's normal for some women, some even get it all nine months." Sara groaned, "Not really fair considering that's one of the perks!"
"Very little about pregnancy is fair, Sara. Starting off with the fact that only women can be pregnant." Packing up the chicken for tomorrow's casserole preparation, she imparted more knowledge on her eager student. "Okay, about a week after conception, my boobs started killing me and feeling really hard and big. If Paul hugged me or touched them I yelped. One good thing though…I was barely a B before my first pregnancy and I ballooned to a D. After all was said and done, I evened out to a full C and that's where I've stayed."
"Gil would like that perk!" She blurted prior to covering her mouth.
"That's hardly spilling the beans on an intimate secret, Sara." Wendy chuckled, "What man doesn't?"
Conceding the fact, she let her embarrassment fade. "Anything else? Did you get morning sickness?"
"Only a few times. That's definitely one of those individualized symptoms. Because my neighbor, who normally has an iron stomach, found herself puking her guts out morning, noon and night. She had to go on medication to stop it so she wouldn't dehydrate."
Cleaning up from the prep work, Sara remarked, "Let's hope I'm not like that because we tend to run into a bad smell or two at the office."
"With the twins I was exhausted." Wendy reluctantly recalled, "I had to nap twice a day. I was fine with McKenna but Ashley made me feel like a walking corpse most of the time." Glancing around the kitchen she said, "Okay, all the prep work is done, so all you have to do tomorrow is prepare the casserole dish and combine everything. Your dessert is made. And you said you have the salad under control. Anything else?"
"Thanks for your patience." She embarrassingly admitted, "I can't believe how remedial I am at cooking."
"It's not an innate talent." Placing a hand on Sara's shoulder, she smiled. "You didn't have anyone to teach you and then you didn't have the time to teach yourself while going through school and working." Suddenly, an idea hit her. "You know what I need to do…I need to have you and Carrie over a couple of times a month and give you cooking lessons. If you learn some basics, you can share the burden with Gil and then you won't always be stuck doing the dishes. At least you have a husband that cooks well. Unfortunately for Carrie, Nick can't cook either. Their kids will be living off microwave entrees if I don't intervene."
"If you wouldn't mind…" Sara bristled and then remembering her therapy goals, pushed past her discomfort and accepted the help and pseudo kinship. "I'd um…I'd really like that."
"Great." Checking her watch, Wendy said, "As much as I would love to stay and chat, I've got a five a.m. wake up call to take Ryan to football sports camp."
Walking down the hall with her, Sara confirmed, "So I'll expect you with Sean at 4:30 tomorrow?"
"Yes, but I warned him we can't stay long because you have company coming for dinner." On the table next to the door, she picked up her purse and car keys. "I'm taking him to the planetarium afterwards so it shouldn't be too much trouble to get him to leave." Even though she wasn't sure Sara would feel comfortable with it, Wendy reached over and gave her hug. "You did great tonight."
After a brief hesitation, she returned the hug. "Thanks again for your help."
Pulling away, Wendy teased, "Feel any boob pain when I hugged you?"
"No." She laughed. "But it's only three days post ovulation. Good night, Wendy."
"Night!" She replied, while hurrying to her car parked on the street.
Just then, Sara saw Greg's car pull in the driveway. Happy that her plans were falling into place so nicely, she waved.
A moment later, she saw Greg, Tawny and a woman who she assumed was Mrs. Sanders with a different haircut, approaching. "My partners in crime!" She called out.
"Hey, Sara!" Tawny warmly greeted as she dashed up the front walk. After giving a quick hug, she begged, "Can I please use your bathroom?"
"Of course." Sara smiled at Greg. "You can show her where it is since you've vomited in there twice since I've lived here."
"Yeah, today, I uh…took care of that before arriving so you're safe." Taking Tawny's hand, he said, "Mom you remember, Sara." And then he whisked his bladder challenged significant other into the house.
"Nice seeing you again, Mrs. Sanders."
"Please…call me Bev." Taking her left hand, she inquired, "Still have a scar?" She first met Sara when she came to visit Greg in the hospital after the lab explosion.
"Just a tiny one." She opened her palm. "Wow…that seems like a million years ago."
"Not to me," She sighed heavily before changing subject. "So, um…as I understand it, congratulations are in order. You and Grissom have married since I last saw you. I didn't believe it when Greg first told me, but I see you have a beautiful wedding band to prove it."
"It's a little shocking, I know." She led her inside and then shut the door. "I really appreciate what you did for me."
Handing over a small shopping bag, Bev assured her son's friend, "Nonsense, I felt like Sherlock Holmes so it was quite fun. It was much easier than I expected it to be. Greg did a quick computer run of all the libraries within a certain radius of Marina del Rey and then I took it from there."
Reaching into the bag, Sara retrieved the royal blue cloth covered book with a gilded picture of the Queen of Hearts on the cover.
"Check the inside flap. The inscription is unharmed." Bev beamed with delight. "The librarian said they kept the book in an antique reference section. Since it was labeled as a reference book, it couldn't be checked out. She recalled it the second I said the inscription might include the name Jillian."
Carefully, Sara cracked open the worn cover.
Dearest Jillian,
Like Alice, never be afraid of experiencing a little adventure.
And if ever you find you can't experience one first hand,
you can always open a book and get carried away.
Love, Grandma Erin and Grandpa Owen
Silently, Sara re-read the last line again. Grandma Erin and Grandpa Owen. Then she thought…Erin Grissom, Owen Grissom…I think we may finally have some baby names. Stirred to tears, Sara glanced over at Bev. "Thank you so much."
"Oh, I wish I didn't see your eyes watering." Bev dove into her purse for tissues. "It's been such an emotional night already and your tears are the proverbial straw breaking this overtaxed camel's back. Seeing you with that book…ugh…now all I can think about is passing on my Through the Looking Glass book to Greggy to read to his child, and that makes me realize my child is no longer a child but a grown man."
"I don't usually cry this easily," Sara explained as she accepted the tissue being given to her. "I guess I'm just really happy..."
Greg strolled over smirking. "Or you're pregnant! Because let me tell ya…it's a waterworks factory daily at my place. TV commercials send Tawny running for a Kleenex."
Blotting her eyes, Sara asked, "Does Tawny eat a lot of chicken?"