Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
"Birthday Boys – Part 6"
August 17, 2005 (Day 117)
Greg's Apartment
5:10 p.m.
Enamored with the amazing woman in his arms, Greg wondered how three words linked together in a declarative sentence could make such an enormous difference. It wasn't the words themselves, he realized as he lost himself in the depths of Tawny's beautiful brown eyes. The words were only a catalyst.
Catalysts…as a Chemistry scholar, he had intimate knowledge of the subject.
In Chemistry, two molecules trying to bond but lacking the necessary energy will remain apart indefinitely. And while the molecules crave each other, and know that once they are bonded, they will be more powerful, try as they might, time after time, they can't come together.
But when you add a catalyst, something magical happens…
A catalyst causes an unexpected shift. Suddenly, the two weak molecules are drawn to one another in a way they never were previously. The attraction, once mild, becomes increasingly overwhelming and those molecules, rendered helpless from the catalyst's power, can't resist the undeniable pull as they are simultaneously pushed closer and closer to the brink of greatness.
Anxious for the merge, the molecules ride the final surge with wondrous anticipation until they are thrust full throttle into the final explosive reaction. A reaction so powerful, the molecules produce a cataclysmic burst of energy that eclipses everything else in their existence. In that blinding moment…in that brilliant blip that transcends time and space and logic, the molecules lose themselves and when they arrive bonded together on the other side of the reaction, they rejoice in the knowledge that they have finally come together.
His breathing jagged and his body still trembling Greg declared to his panting lover, "We have…undeniable chemistry."
"I was thinking…mathematically…" Clutching her lover's shoulders, Tawny breathlessly replied, "…what a great example of… perfect symmetry."
"To me…chemically…" He grinned uncontrollably, "….it was spontaneous combustion."
The Grissoms'
5:15 p.m.
The searing heat off the stove burner signaled it was time for Sara to begin sautéing the onions for her casserole. It was the only step Wendy had instructed not to do in advance.
"I can't believe I screwed up on the planetarium times, Sara," Wendy apologized profusely while aiding her cooking pupil. "Now getting Sean out of here will be much harder. There is youth group at church tonight, but he never gets very excited about that."
"Why?" She curiously asked while darting the onions around the pan.
"He doesn't fit in with his age group and his brother is best friends with the Pastor's son so Sean feels like the odd man out again." She shrugged. "With Ryan away at camp though, he might be a little more enthusiastic."
"It's really no problem. Our dinner guest isn't arriving until 6:30. He had some business to handle so he asked if we could bump it a half hour later. Actually I'm thrilled Sean's here keeping Gil occupied in the bug room. If he wasn't, my anal-retentive chef of a husband would be driving me insane."
Their laughter was cut short by the ring of house phone.
"Here…" Wendy took the wooden spoon from Sara's hand. "I'll sauté while you get that."
After wiping her hands on her apron, Sara reached for the phone. "Hello."
"Sara!" Carrie's panicky voice boomed through the phone. "I need a friend!"
"Hey, Carrie, what's going on?" The concept of having a close female friend was still relatively new to her, but as the months passed, Sara was increasingly grateful for the relationship…the first one of its kind she ever had.
Wendy grinned. "Is that my sister-in-law panicking over her big date?"
Sara nodded as she heard Carrie say, You were right, Nick loved the note I left him! A wave of satisfaction flowed through her. "See, Carrie…people think I'm a prude, but I know what I'm doing." Then she remembered Wendy was five feet away and darted out of the room. "But don't you dare tell another living soul!"
"I won't." She chuckled, "And who would believe me if I did?"
"So true," Sara agreed while walking over to the patio.
"Anyway, you know me…I'm a perfectionist and I want to make sure this night goes well. But I'm getting cold feet about something. Hmm…how do I say this…I'm uh, rather predictable in certain areas of my life…not boring…just kind of…not adventurous."
Sara reined in her grin. "Did you get your special supplies?"
"Yes!" Her gulp echoed through the phone line. "I never in my life went into a lingerie shop like THAT! You were supposed to go with me, but nooo you decided to go to Tahoe instead!"
"Sorry." She sighed, "Unfortunately, it couldn't be helped."
"That's okay, I survived…barely. When I order online, I pick stuff a little less…boisterous, so I had no idea what to select. I was so uncomfortable in the store, I just told the sales clerk that I needed something naughty and something nice. I tossed her my credit card, signed the slip, took the bag and got the hell out of Dodge."
"I think Nick's cowboyisms are rubbing off on you, lil' lady." Outside on the patio, Sara took a seat in a comfy deck chair. "So what's the problem?"
"Well…I'm very comfortable with the white lace one because that's typical for me, but…" Nervous, she cleared her throat, "…the leather corset is freaking me out. Panicking me really…it has these…."
"Leather corset?" Stunned, Sara bolted up in her chair. "I never told you to buy leather." In her mind she finished the statement…I never told you to raid Lady Heather's closet. "I told you to buy La Perla. La Perla doesn't even have a leather line. Sorry, sister, I can't help you with leather, I'm a vegetarian and it's banned from my bedroom." Well, now that she had a secret chicken habit she realized she wasn't technically a vegetarian anymore, but since she was lying to her friend about vegetarianism being the reason for leather being banned in the bedroom, she supposed the embellishment was a moot point.
"You said naughty and nice, that's what I told the clerk!"
Sara apologized to her flustered friend, "Sorry, to me naughty means a scrap of black lace and a few strings."
"This is why you were supposed to go with me!" Panting, she said, "And you know Nick's going to pick leather, because variety is the spice of life and since he's been getting lace… oh my god, I'm way too inhibited for leather…you should see this corset, Sara! But I can't change plans now because I already mentioned it in the damn note! See…as a lawyer I should know better than to commit to something in writing! I'll be in breech of contract if I don't deliver as promised! So what am I going to do when he picks leather?"
"Take a deep breath." Sara tossed in a dash of reality. "I doubt Nick will turn you into the Bar Association if you change your mind."
"But he sounded so excited on the phone and I really wanted to do something a little crazy to break out of my sexual shell…but what will I do when he picks leather?"
"Frankly, I doubt you'll have to do much of anything once he glimpses you in leather for the first time; after all, men are visual creatures."
"Not helping."
Feeling bad that her advice was causing duress, Sara glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone on the patio and whispered, "Have you uh…ever thought of creating a little alter ego for yourself…someone who is a little less uptight? Some women find using a pseudonym can be um…freeing and it allows them to do things or say things they wouldn't normally do or say."
"You mean like a role play thing?" She asked with trepidation. "Never been there, never done that with Nicky or anyone else. Hell, Sara I've only been with two other guys in my life and they weren't thrill seekers if you get my drift. And while I'm sure Nicky has done plenty of crazy things in crazy places with other women, with me…with the abuse in my background, I think he plays it extra cautious. He keeps things quite traditional. We haven't discussed any of this, but let's put it this way, I know he had a multi-volume black book. I'm sure he had to get pretty wild with some of those women."
"Uh….I'm not so sure about that." Sara giggled. "He and I have had a few candid conversations on conventionality and I'd bet money that he hasn't gotten too adventurous. He's a cowboy…so yeah, he moseyed with plenty of lil' ladies, but he's a certified straight shooter who probably rode his white horse in and out of town the same way every time."
"Sara!"
"Sorry…" She muffled her laugh. "I think my hormones are overactive today." Her thoughts turned inward. Overactive hormones…maybe I'm pregnant! Her hands flew to her chest checking for soreness. It's too early for that, she reminded herself. Hormones though…definitely an early sign!
"Sara? Are you listening to me?"
"Sorry!" She refocused her attention. "I uh…saw something strange floating in the pool and wanted to make sure it wasn't a dead animal. I have to toss those fast or the mad scientist brings them into the house for dissection and then feeds the rotting meat to his bugs."
"That freaks me out almost as much as this studded leather corset and thong I'm staring at. Eww!"
"Yeah…it takes a special woman to love Gil Grissom." She chuckled sweetly and then asked, "Sorry, so what were you saying?"
"I said, maybe if I knew for sure just how diversely experienced Nick is, then maybe I wouldn't feel so intimidated imagining it. You know, this is really hard for me because in every other area of my life I have confidence to spare. I'm trying though…I'm going to start taking this cardio strip class with Tawny to help…if I have the guts to go through with it." She giggled, "If I can't do it in public, I may have to ask her for private dance lessons."
Sara, knowing the benefits of such discussions with your significant other, suggested, "Have you ever talked to Nick about it? I bet if you do, you'll find out it's not half as bad as what you're imagining." She knew it first hand from the initial Lady Heartless shocking encounter. Once she and Gil laid all the cards on the table, the tension between them disappeared. Sara silently screamed, if it weren't for the woman's obsession with berating me every time we meet I wouldn't have given her another thought after Gil and I discussed my concern that he needed something I couldn't give him.
"Nick and I don't talk about sex in detail." A light giggle wafted through the phone. "I mean, we talk about having it, then we have it, and we talk about how great it was, and then we shower and sleep."
"You're marrying the man, Carrie. You should be able to take the conversation a little deeper than that." Sara offered some more advice. "If you're in bed wondering what he wants and he's there concerned he's going to cross a boundary that will freak you out…the two of you are missing out on intimacy." She lightened the mood with a chuckle, "Talk about it…you may find out you're the more adventurous one."
"I doubt that," She laughed with her friend.
Standing up, she started walking the perimeter of the pool. "The point is, once the two of you get this all out in the open, you can stop worrying and start exploring what's mutual. It's what healthy couples do. Trust me, I know my husband's limits and Gil knows my boundaries. He'd never bring home a leather corset and ask me to lick his shoes because he knows why I am who I am and he respects that." For a moment she reflected…he knows the degrading things I witnessed my father demand of my mother and he understands it's just too close to the nightmare. Returning to the conversation, she finished her thought, "And Gil's assured me it's not an element he needs, so neither of us is compromising, which means neither of us is worried or resenting the other." Laughing at herself, she said, "Can you tell how long I've been in therapy? I've got the lingo down...trust, healthy, boundaries, compromising, resenting..."
"You're very good! And you're right…it's just…what if I ask and find out Nick needs something…" She chuckled nervously, "Not that I think he'd ask for the shoe licking scenario, but something I can't…"
"Carrie, if there's something Nick can absolutely not live without, but you know you're never going to be capable of giving it to him…you really shouldn't be marrying each other, right? Other than criminal sexual activity there is no wrong behavior, but as a couple, something becomes wrong if it's not right for one of the partners and they're forced to live a lie. Does that make sense?"
"Yes…" Her voice heavy with tension, she replied, "It's just hard to talk about even with..."
"I know…" Sara cut her off with more evidence to support her point and convince the attorney. "You know what happens sometimes when couples aren't honest about their needs? Husbands sometimes end up at Lady Heather's wearing dog collars and wives spontaneously sleep with their pizza delivery boy. I've seen it all on the job. Communication and trust is critical and if you communicate honestly up front then you won't be surprised one day coming home and finding Nicky wearing your lacy lingerie with heels saying, 'Sweetheart, there's something I've been meaning to ask you…'"
"OH!" Carrie burst out laughing. "My eyes! My psyche! My libido!"
"Sorry, but I felt I needed to lighten the mood…at your expense." Sara shook with laughter. "But, for the record…and I know he won't mind me telling you this, wearing my lingerie is an example of something I know not to ask my husband to do for me…not that the thought of dressing Gil in my La Perla ever crossed my mind…that is until now. Eww!."
After a solid minute of hilarity, Carrie caught her breath and said, "Thanks for this talk, Sara. This isn't a conversation I'd feel comfortable having with Wendy."
"Frankly I'm shocked I'm having it with you, but ever since I got home from Tahoe I feel more open." Filling her lungs with the warm evening air, she said, "I slung a few albatrosses into the lake and I guess it freed me to trust a bit more." Actually they were letters into a fireplace, but the analogy worked. "And I uh…never had a close friend before and I like this bonding thing we've got going on here."
"Me too." A tiny sigh preceded her question. "Since we're bonding…do you have an alter ego, Sara?"
Feeling empathy for her friend, Sara confessed, "Yes indeed."
"What's her name?"
"Well when I first let her to come out to play she didn't have a name. She acquired one later." Cracking up she broke the shocking news, "Boom Boom."
Carrie half laughed, half groaned. "Why did you name her THAT? It sounds so trite. It doesn't sound like something you'd choose."
"I didn't, Jim Brass did, and Gil thought it was funny so..."
"Excuse me?" Carrie choked out her words. "Exactly how adventurous are you, Sara?"
Careful to exclude the Lady Heather portion of the story, Sara recalled how the heroic Mr. Jim Brass took her and Greg out to get plastered after a particularly difficult case and how her drunken confession earned her the legendary nickname. And while Sara was recounting that story, Gil was in the bug room enthusiastically telling Sean a story of his own…
"So cockroach number six starts coming from behind and in the last second, he races across the finish line, finally earning me bragging rights!" Standing over the tank of hissing cockroaches, Gil beamed with pride.
"Awesome!" Sean vicariously shared in the elation.
"Excuse me," Irving called from the hallway, not desiring to enter the freaky room.
Gil leaned over and whispered in Sean's ear, "The big guy is afraid of bugs."
Geeks Senior and Junior struggled not to laugh at the irony.
"Come on in, Irving," Gil prodded while Sean tried to compose himself. "Unless you're afraid of the bugs."
"I'm not afraid," Irving clarified as he took one small step in the room. "It's weird, that's all." To avoid seeing the creepy crawlers, he stared at the ceiling. "We're all done. I left my card on the bench press…if you don't know what that is, ask your wife. Call me when you have your schedule sorted out."
"I will," Gil politely responded while 'accidentally' dropping cockroach three. "Nobody move. One of my GIANT roaches is loose!"
"What? NO! " Irving bolted out of the room ranting, "I freakin' hate bugs! Indiana Jones hated snakes. I hate bugs! Even Superman had Kryptonite!"
Sean looked up at his trusted educator. "Irving is right, Superman and Indiana Jones were heroes and still got girls." Sighing, he confessed, "But they only had one deficiency…I have many."
The boy's statement was out of left field and Gil was reluctant to make the catch. "What?"
"My brother has girls following him everywhere and I can't even get one to talk to me." Hoping for some sound advice, the boy asked, "You have a great girl, so maybe you can give me some advice."
"Uh…" Bugs he could handle explaining to the pubescent boy. Girls? Not so much. Thinking of the lines he fed Greg to snag a date with Tawny, Gil confessed, "You know um…the last time I gave advice to a young man, things didn't go so well. You should really ask your future Uncle Nick."
"Like HE can relate to me?" Sean scoffed at the ridiculous notion. "A wink and a smile is all it takes from him to put a girl under his spell. He took my brother and I out for ice cream and you should have seen the girl behind the counter salivating over his thank ya ma'am cowboy crap…oops…sorry, bad word."
"The bugs don't mind," He joked to lighten the mood. And the boy was right, he had seen Nick use the 'thank ya ma'am cowboy crap' on fawning women for years and it was irritating when you don't have a purty lady of your own.
"My brother got the brawn and I got the brains. He's at football camp and when he comes home next week, I bet his shoulders will be bigger…not as big as his swelled head, but…one look at my brother and girls see hero potential."
Gil empathized with the boy, recalling his own troubling middle school years that eventually led to a deep retreat. "Sean, you know the saying 'never judge a book by its cover', right?"
"Of course."
"Well, a hero doesn't have to look like Irving…or Nick…or your brother." Taking a seat next to the deflated young man, Gil said, "Heroes don't only wear capes and football jerseys. Sometimes heroes wear lab coats. Take Alexander Fleming for example…"
"He discovered penicillin."
"Right." Gil nodded. "He was a short, quiet man who wore a bowtie, but he changed the course of history. He's still saving lives today long after he's gone."
Sean quickly countered, "No one claps when a baby's fever breaks, but when my brother scores a touchdown at a stupid peewee football game, the crowd goes wild."
"You make a valid point." Running his hand across his beard, Gil did a little more thinking. "I guess it depends on what's more important to you…the claps or the work itself. I'd argue that the football player, once the crowd goes home and the stadium is silent, feels a sense of loss. His heroic moment was fleeting and doesn't ripple through time. I'm sure you've heard men recalling a big game where they scored the game winning point, right?"
"Yeah, every time my dad's friend Bill comes over he tells Ryan the same stupid story about winning the state championships in 1979."
"Exactly…in order to feel heroic he has to go back in time and relive that moment. His heroics occurred in the past. What Dr. Fleming did changed the future. If he were alive today he wouldn't have to think back to feel good, he could walk into any hospital and see the difference he made." Personalizing his approach he said, "CSIs rarely get claps. In any high profile case who gets the glory? The sheriff and the cops who apprehended the bad guy."
"And that doesn't make you guys mad?"
Gil chuckled lightly, "It really ticks off my friend Catherine, but not me, no. It doesn't bother me because I know my work made a difference and it didn't just end something, nine out of ten times it prevented something from happening in the future. If I put away a rapist, then every time I see a woman I can think, maybe I saved her from danger. If I put away a murderer, then every time I see a family I can think, maybe I prevented them from losing a loved one. And sometimes, like in your mom's case…I get the satisfaction of knowing I was able to help restore someone's peace of mind…for me, that's better than any trophy or Superbowl ring. That's why I do my job, Sean…not for the claps."
"You make a valid point," Sean smiled after parroting his mentor's words.
"Never doubt your ability to be a hero, Sean." Gil flashed a supportive smile. "Dr. Fleming didn't intend to discover Penicillin, he was just in the right place at the right time and when he found himself there, he used his intelligence to change the future. I know one day, you will too."
"Thanks, Mr. Grissom." Sean basked in the compliment. "I won't let you down."
Paris Hotel
5:55 p.m.
After working through her concerns on the phone with Sara, Carrie had darted around the hotel suite prepping for the private birthday surprise party. Now, as she stood in the middle of the room, her organization-obsessed mind took a quick inventory. The pricey champagne was chilling, the mood music was cued for playing, and the outrageous lingerie, both leather and lace as promised in her note, were on the bed arranged for selecting. Grinning, she admired her handiwork and her tiny leap outside the box.
Now it was time for the final step in her action plan…the development of a suitable alter ego to don with the infamous leather corset and thong should Nick opt for that route…which she knew he would.
Taking a seat at the desk in the living room of the suite, she grabbed a paper and pen to do some brainstorming.
Five minutes and a pad full of doodles later, Carrie decided she could use a little help. Returning to the bedroom, she tossed her paper and pen on the bed and opened the drawer of a nightstand. There she found two things…a Bible left by the Gideons and a guide to Las Vegas after dark. She selected the latter.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she thumbed through the racy ads while trying desperately not to think of all the poor degraded lost souls displayed on the pages. Girls more full of silicone than self-esteem and women in need of confidence boosts and new careers.
When she couldn't get beyond the tragic angle of the magazine, she pretended the girls were just actresses playing parts. When that worked, she congratulated herself on successfully executing her first role play. Then she saw the ad for Tweeters featuring Tawny and other assorted birds of a feather. "Oh!"
Dropping the magazine, she paced the room.
Five minutes later she had another idea. Maybe if she put the garment on, a persona would automatically emerge complete with name.
Tossing off her white satin robe, she squeezed awkwardly into the constricting leather lace-up top and slipped on the matching silver studded leather panties. Then she turned to face the mirrored closet doors. "Oh my god!" She shrieked, having seen herself dressed scandalously for the first time. I look like I'm in the cast of the musical Chicago playing one of the murdering mistresses in the Cell Block Tango. Oh! That's it! What were their names, she struggled to remember. Then suddenly one of the character's names popped into her head…Roxie.
Turning to check out her posterior reflection, Carrie snickered, "Whoa…I can't wait to see the look on Nick's face when Roxie struts out of the bathroom ready for action…not that I have any idea what she's capable of delivering." Blushing from the look of the garment on her reluctant body, Carrie blurted, "I look so sinful!"
Desert Springs Church
5:59 p.m.
As Lindsay walked through the church parking lot with Warrick, she groaned, "I can't believe my mom made you bring me here."
"She thought since I'm a faster runner, I'd have a better chance of dodging lightning bolts." Adjusting his sunglasses, he grinned, "Nah…just kidding. She's a little backlogged on case files, so she's working late to clean things up before her new boss starts Monday."
Stopping on the sidewalk, Lindsay announced, "You don't have to go any further."
"Hell yes I do." He was determined to check out the pastor's son and give him the 'don't even think about putting a hand on my little girl' stare down.
Scolding him with her eyes, she reminded him, "You're in front of a church. You shouldn't be saying hell."
Warrick found the comment from the un-churched girl amusing. "Linds, you just wait and see…that's all some churches talk about. Goin' to hell, burnin' in hell…yeah…talking about hell is cool at church."
Breaking into a smile, Lindsay turned around ready to continue the walk toward the building. But when she did, she smacked right into a boy arriving for youth group. "Sorry," She quickly apologized while she bent down to pick up the book he dropped and when she did, she read the title out loud "For the Love Insects? Huh?" She couldn't imagine the words love and insects in the same sentence.
Sean Blake retrieved his text from the girl and eagerly explained, "It's a book dedicated to the triumphs of small creatures. For instance, some beetles have a defense mechanism that allows them to spray boiling water at their enemies and certain caterpillars disguise themselves by sticking flower petals to their bodies to elude prey. It's fascinating really. I'd allow you to borrow it, but I'm borrowing it myself, so it's not my place to loan it out."
"Yeah uh…" Lindsay glanced up at Warrick who was gaping at the boy like he knew him somehow. "That's okay, I think bugs are gross."
"Why?" Sean asked in disbelief. "Don't you realize that if bugs disappeared from our ecosystem tomorrow, the entire structure would collapse and we'd all die?"
Warrick finally spoke up. "You sound just like a guy I work with."
"Nice meeting you, Bug Boy." Lindsay tugged on Warrick's hand, "Let's go, Pops. Mom said you can't leave me here until you see if they're serving Kool-Aid…whatever that means."
Warrick glanced back at the boy, wondering if perhaps Grissom had an illegitimate kid walking around town that he didn't know about.
Greg's Apartment
6:15 p.m.
"Hurry up!" Greg shouted from the living room as he raced to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table. "I just saw her parking my car in my space."
"Sorry!" Tawny rushed out from the bathroom, still fussing with her freshly showered and dried hair. Taking a seat on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table she asked, "Does my hair look okay? It's the first time I did it myself with the new cut."
Lunging over the table, he covered her mouth in a kiss before replying, "It's perfect…but honestly, I'm so blissed out right now, I don't think I'm capable of forming an opinion about you other than perfect."
"Aww…" His deep brown puppy dog eyes tugged at her heart. "I love you."
Much to his surprise, the words rolled off his tongue without hesitation. "I love you too." His grin widened. "Wow…it's the same rush saying it back to you as saying it to you. That's cool."
"Tell me about it!"
The sound of the front door opening cued them to begin their ruse.
Grabbing the Boggle grid, Greg shook it, letting the letter cubes fall into place. "Go!" He yelled while slapping the timer down on the table.
Keeping straight faces, Greg and Tawny grabbed their pencils and began jotting down words.
Holding a six pack of Corona Light, Bev strolled into the apartment. The second she saw Greg and Tawny busy with a board game she knew her son was in a playful mood. "I'm baaaack," She sang in her lovely music teacher's voice.
"Shhh!" Greg scolded. "We're on our 21st game…it's the tie-breaker!"
Setting the beer on the counter, Bev rolled her eyes as a feigned concern powered her voice, "Gee…I hope the turnip truck I just fell off doesn't have a hard time navigating the apartment parking lot."
Tawny burst out laughing then quickly refocused on her game and the ruse.
With spunk in her step, Bev approached the coffee table, taking a minute to check each player's word list. "Hmm…she's kicking your ass, son." A Stanford Phi Beta Kappa being creamed by an ex-stripper with a High School Equivalency Diploma…she liked the irony.
"Really? She is?" He said with surprise. Then again, his mind was still mush…a residual side effect of mind numbin' lovin', so maybe it wasn't that surprising.
Giggling, Tawny explained, "When I worked at Club Paradise I used to play this game in the locker room. It's popular with the girls dancing for college tuition. Plus, since it only takes three minutes it's easy to squeeze in games on breaks. I found it real easy to win once I memorized a lot of the unique three letter words like…"
"Tit." Bev announced, catching her son's full attention, "I can't believe you missed that one, son. Especially not with such a strong visual cue in the room." She was relieved when Tawny laughed. Not only because she realized after saying it that she might be offended, but it proved the girl had a great sense of humor and would fit well into their quirky little family.
"Shit!" He raced to scribble it down before the last grains of sand slipped through the timer.
"Yeah…" Bev laughed, "You missed that one too, Mr. Wizard." Shaking her head she said, "A few of us teachers play Boggle in the lunch room. We know all the dirty words. Wouldn't the teens be surprised?" Reaching down she selected five letter cubes one at a time, lining them up for both players to see. B-R-E-A-K. "As in give me one…21st tie breaking game my ass. The two of you spent every minute in the bedroom you could, then took a quick shower, threw on the same clothes and raced out two minutes before I got here and started playing. Tawny's hair and make up are done differently, and son, you smell a hell of a lot better now than when you arrived home from work." She caught her son's eye. "Shades of the Becca Turnbull incident?"
"Ha!" Tawny clapped with delight. "He said you would say that!" Although she didn't know why.
Greggy wallowed in the satisfaction. "Yep, she still doesn't believe me to this day. I wanted to bring it to a head once and for all…uh…pardon the pun." Glancing up at his mother, he droned, "I did not have sex with Becca Turnbull under your roof. I never even got to first base with Becca under your roof or anywhere else for that matter. I was her goofy guy pal that she chilled with when she was in between jocks, because I'm…and I quote her...such a sweet sensitive guy. Yeah…later in life I realized, if a girl refers to you solely as 'sweet and sensitive', you know you're not gettin' lucky."
"I know…I know…you were just innocently playing Boggle." Bev chuckled, "Honey, it's not like I'm going to ground you, it was thirteen years ago. Can't you come clean…pardon the pun.?" It wasn't that she believed bodacious Becca dated Greg. Clearly she had just shown her sweet sensitive son a little mercy that afternoon. And Bev didn't punish him for having sex which, being a lusty California teen once who knew the beach was for more than sunbathing, she knew she would have been hypocritical. No, she punished him for lying and not producing a condom wrapper upon demand, which seemed so ironic now that he really had gotten a girl pregnant. She corrected herself…hopefully he got Tawny pregnant and not the other, one-night-stand man, which seemed so strange to think since Greg getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock used to be her worst nightmare.
"Mom!" He snapped her out of her daze.
"What? Sorry."
"I was telling the truth and I still am." Looking at Tawny, Greg lamented, "I swear, I trace my desire to be a CSI back to this Becca injustice. You have to understand…losing your car in California is the closest thing to losing a limb. Not that I would have minded if I actually had sex with Becca Turnbull. No, on the contrary, I would have been happy to walk to school…hell, through fire, in exchange for one romp with her. But to lose my car and still have my virginity was cruel and unusual punishment." Returning his gaze to his mother, he confidently said, "I stand by my innocence."
Glancing up at Mrs. Sanders, Tawny asked, "Why don't you believe him?" It was a little awkward considering her mother's choice not to believe her when wrongly accused. She couldn't believe someone as cool as Bev wouldn't believe her child.
"Because while Mr. Innocent was in the family room with Becca, having the supposed Boggle marathon, I decided to do laundry…linens specifically." Folding her arms across her chest she said, "DNA King…wanna tell her what I found and let your significant other, be the judge? And remember, when asked at the time, you couldn't explain the discovery. The evidence doesn't lie, isn't that the phrase you use?"
This was exactly the part of the drama that had made Greg back down that particular day, but today, after already squirming with discomfort in front of his mother, he was determined to set the record straight no matter how awkward. "At work we'd technically label my mother's discovery as, traces of protein."
Tawny stared cluelessly for a moment, then covered her mouth. "Oh!" Now it was understandable why Bev didn't believe him. Aww…Cherry Greg didn't know enough to strip the sheets. Then again, maybe he was just a slob, because she recalled him seeming surprised after the first time they made love at his place that she wanted to toss the sheets in the wash and put fresh ones on before going to bed. Actually, he is kind of a slob to live with she confessed to herself for the first time…skanky boxers and damp bath towels on the floor being two key pieces of evidence.
"Tawny!" He wondered where she had drifted to just now.
"What? Sorry."
Greg groaned, "If I had been a CSI back then, or not completely mortified, I could easily have proven my innocence. So, Tawny, I look to you now to solve the mystery and clear me once and for all." Using the tone of a whodunit host, he laid out the facts, "If Becca had been inspected for trace evidence, my DNA and my epithelials wouldn't have been found anywhere on her body, nor would hers have been found on me. If the linens in question were tested, they would have revealed I was the only person in the bed. Becca was the girl of my fantasies at the time. She was due over in a half hour, I was home alone, and I was already way too jazzed to see her. I do not dispute the evidence was left by me. I am not guilty of having sex with anyone. I rest my case."
"Aww…" Tawny reached over and took her man's hand. "Not guilty, Sweetie."
Bev cracked up. "Why didn't you just fess up back then? Trust me, THAT'S something I would have believed. But you were acting so secretive and out of character when I confronted you about having Becca in your bedroom, you made me believe you were lying."
"We uh…don't need to delve into this any deeper. I'm exonerated and we can drop it." He grumbled, "Besides, it's not like you can make up for taking my car away."
"Speaking of that…" Bev smiled as she reached into her purse. "Tawny told me that you were planning on trading in your hot new sports car for something more safety oriented for Tawny and the baby. You'll never get a deal as good as this from any car lot." Handing over a check for twenty grand, she explained, "I've grown attached to your tricked out black Z. It makes me feel like such a babe!"
"She's totally right!" Tawny assured Greg. "When we swung by her hotel, I saw this old guy in the parking lot of the Mandalay Bay checking her out while she was parking it. It was totally weird too because he looked so much like Gil Grissom it was creepy!"
"I've still got it." Bev fluffed her hair and said, "I used a computer in the Mandalay's business center to research the current blue book value. So here's my proposition…let's swap…twenty thousand cold hard cash and my 2004 Camry, for your car. What do you say? You can drive yours out on Labor Day and drive mine home."
Accepting the check and the generous offer, he smiled. "So, you're taking away my car again." Catching Tawny's eye, he pleasantly sighed, "Well…at least this time I really did have mind blowing sex with the girl of dreams before racing into the living room to play Boggle and fake out my mother."
The Grissoms'
6:28 p.m.
When the doorbell rang, Sara flew to answer it. Gil was still sequestered in the bug room, cleaning up from Sean's visit, and she was anxious to get to Ron first.
"Hello, Sara," He warmly greeted while extending a gorgeous bouquet of pink and white variegated tulips.
"Welcome, Ron." She accepted the gift. "They're beautiful, thank you." Her eyes shifted to the birthday gift he was holding and she tensed knowing Gil wouldn't want one from his father.
Smiling, he stepped inside holding a large wrapped package. "Variegated tulips are given to ladies with beautiful eyes." Chuckling, he remarked, "I only said that to you because my son isn't here to accuse me of spouting bullshit, which it's not…that is the documented meaning behind the flower and you do have beautiful eyes."
"I still heard it," Gil announced while rounding the corner. The sight of his father and the gift he was holding made him bristle.
Sara reached out and took her husband's hand. "It's that excellent hearing of yours." It was an odd sight to see the two of them calmly in the same room considering the last time she had seen them together Gil was seconds away from choking the life out of his father. "Let's head to the kitchen so I can put these wonderful tulips in water and get our guest a drink."
For a moment, Gil shivered as the memory of his harsh words delivered in a maniacal tone echoed in his head. Look what I found…two drinking glasses. Were you doubling up, Honey, or did you entertain Ron with a beverage? I don't think the bastard is worthy of my spit no less a god damn glass of my water in my home!
Sara sweetly asked while walking down the hall with the two men following, "What would you like to drink, Ron? I have Iced Tea, Light Beer, Diet Coke and Water to offer." A twinge of anxiety sparked in her as she heard her husband's angry words in her head. I don't think the bastard is worthy of my spit no less a god damn glass of my water in my home!
"I'd love a nice cold glass of Iced Tea, thank you, Dear."
Grissom and Sara breathed simultaneous sighs of relief that he didn't choose water.
Upon reaching the kitchen, Sara turned towards the men. "I hope dinner smells good because I slaved over a..." When she saw the identical postures and expressions of the father and son, she froze.
Gil stood still as his nose filled with the aroma of his favorite childhood supper. Is this why Sara banished me to the bug room since Sean's visit? "That smell…"
"Chicken Casserole ala Jillian," Ron whimsically announced as he was transported back to a happy time. "It was the first meal she ever cooked for me. It was my favorite."
"Mine too," Gil remarked from his heart while he turned to his father.
Sara's spirit soared as she realized her surprise was a three for one deal…Gil's favorite meal, Ron's favorite meal and, for a split second, it bonded father and son. "This is the nostalgic gift I mentioned." Sara stepped forward and kissed her husband's cheek. "I saw your mom had noted it was your favorite." Moving back behind the counter she told both men, "But, since both of you are heart healthy eaters, I coerced Master Chef Wendy Blake into figuring out how to cut the fat out of the recipe while retaining as much of the original flavor as possible."
"It smells exactly the same, Sara," Gil assured her. "You know smell is the most powerful trigger of memory and the second I smelled it I thought I was back in my mother's kitchen."
Clearing his throat, Ron attempted to move beyond the bittersweet memories assaulting him. "Wow…my daughter-in-law is a woman of many surprises."
Gil glanced at his father, slightly resenting the possessive nature of the phrase, my daughter-in-law, but unable to deny its technical accuracy.
"Yes, I am." Sara had no problem accepting the compliment while arranging the tulips in a vase she had retrieved from a kitchen cabinet. "How about I get you that glass of Iced Tea now and while I'm doing that, maybe you'll want to do something with that gift you're holding?"
"Oh, right." He set the package on the kitchen island and prepared for the backlash.
"I didn't want you to…"
"I know." Ron abruptly interrupted his son and defused him with a smile. "It's really more a gift for Sara than for you." Looking Gil square in the eye he said, "Here's one of those straight shooting no-bullshit answers you enjoy so much. Ready?"
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he calmly replied, "Go ahead."
With candor Ron said, "Yeah, I thought about buying you something, but what the hell was I going to buy you that wouldn't piss you off? I mean, forty years have gone by and Hallmark doesn't have a card saying, I've neglected you for decades, but hey, Happy Birthday, here's a token gift. Not to mention, you recently gave me fifty grand to reconcile the fact that you wanted nothing from me…so, I figured it would be insulting to start the tally over again." He tapped the box. "Therefore, I opted to give you something that already belonged to you that I happened to have in my possession. Something I knew Sara would appreciate having."
Gil stared cautiously at his father, wondering if this was some emotional ploy.
Placing a hand on his son's shoulder Ron informed him, "Yeah, I see those wheels turning in your head. To prove how honest I'm being with you these days, I'll even make a confession…something I guarantee will only enhance my reputation as an asshole...well, former asshole I'd like to hope." Removing his hand from his son he sighed, "I unintentionally took this box with me when I moved out of the house. I won't lie and say I kept it under my bed and pulled it out every night before I went to sleep wishing things were different…I'll be honest and tell you that I lost track of it for decades. Turns out my second ex-wife had it in storage with her things and she returned it to me when she was clearing stuff out about ten or so years ago…"
Sara was certain she'd burst if the damn box wasn't opened in the next ten seconds.
But Ron wasn't done yet. "…when I opened it, it made me feel like shit so I put it high on a shelf in a room I never used. Every once in a while, when I was in a self-loathing mood, and every year on your birthday, I'd take it out and open it up just to feel worse. When I was in therapy, the doctor told me she thought it was a healthy thing to do and she said, one day I'd be able to see the box and its contents differently. I had my housekeeper Fed Ex it to the Mandalay a few days ago and when it arrived, I realized my therapist was right."
With her hands on her head Sara blurted, "Please open it before I die of curiosity!" Then she smiled and handed Ron the glass of Iced Tea he had been waiting for patiently. "Sorry."
Gil inched closer to the mystery gift. "Thank you for your candor, I appreciate it." When he reached the counter, he slid the gift with him as he moved next to Sara, using her proximity to soothe himself.
Ron sipped his drink while waiting for his son's reaction.
When the lid to the shoebox was removed, Sara shrilled with delight. It was a box full of mementos from son to father…pictures drawn, school papers, rocks painted to use as paperweights, and various bug-themed art projects. It was a box full of history and a gift to share with the future Grissom generation. They were exactly the sort of things she didn't have of her own. "Thank you," She gushed. "You're right…I love it."
While his mind remained in shock, Gil reached in and fished out a colorful painting. One painted no doubt with his mother's art supplies. It was a child's rendition of a monarch butterfly and the words To Daddy were painted in the top left corner and the words Love Gil in the bottom right.
Sara placed her hand on her stunned husband's shoulder. "Who knew you were such a good artist? Is there any talent you don't have?" She brushed a kiss over his cheek and lingered on his ear whispering, "I love you. I'm going to leave the two of you alone now."