Chapter 71

House

It was strange, lying across that old couch in the living room of his mother's house long after everyone had left. The house was absolutely silent, reminding Gil of how it had been when he'd been a child. The house still was fragrant with the smell of fresh coffee, and the perfumes and colognes of the various relatives who'd passed through during the day.

He'd chosen to stay the night in the house, deciding this would be the very last time he would ever do so. In the morning he would leave for Las Vegas along with Sara, and he would never need to come back again. This was the last chance to say his goodbyes to the house.

Gil sighed and stared around the room thinking of how different things would be once he'd sold the place. He couldn't keep the house, he couldn't think of ever wanting to come back here, no matter how beautiful it was. Without his mother, this wasn't home anymore, it was just a house full of old furniture with it's many memories that were eventually doomed to fade with time.

His head was situated on Sara's lap, her hand gently stroking through his hair tenderly, soothing him. They'd remained that way for some time after the mourners had gone away home.

Gil couldn't find words that seemed to fit the occasion anymore. He'd cried in front of Sara, he felt pathetic and miserable, and so incredibly naked around her that lying with his head on her lap was about all he was capable of doing right now.

Sara was the first to break that silence after the longest time, "what now?" she asked softly.

Gil lay trying to decide what to say. He didn't know what was next himself, "I don't know," he finally admitted.

"You can't go back to work tomorrow like nothing ever happened," Sara brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek.

"I know," he answered, "but I can't just…sit at home and do nothing…"

"I'll be there though," Sara reminded.

"I need to get back into my busy life…into distraction…I need to be doing something…" he sat up slowly, he rubbed the aching of his neck that began the moment he'd moved, "we still have to figure out what we're going to do about your problem."

"My problem isn't even relevant anymore. I haven't touched alcohol at all since we had the discussion about it…" Sara stood up slowly, she stretched a little. "You worry enough about me, let me worry about you for a change…" she picked up a framed photograph from the mantel and examined it, "you were a cute kid."

"I was a geek," Gil responded, "I don't want you worrying about me. I don't want to be worried about, I want to just…be normal..."

Sara shrugged, "worrying is normal. Being worried about is normal. You're just not used to it…" she put the photograph down and moved back over, "what are you doing about this house?" she asked.

"Selling it," Gil said, "this isn't my home anymore…this just a house now."

"What about all your memories," Sara gestured around her.

"Memories travel," he rubbed his tired eyes, his eyes were puffy and red from having cried earlier that evening.

Sara climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, "don't you want somewhere nice to retire some day?"

"I'm nearly fifty, not sixty, I don't want to be thinking about retirement yet," he responded. "Sara…don't you get it, this is me and my mother lived. I couldn't just…come here and be reminded every day of how things were. It'd destroy me."

Sara stroked his hair again, hugging him so that his cheek was pressed gently against her chest, "okay," she kissed his hair. "What about all the stuff here? Won't you need to pack it or anything?"

"I took a look through most of the important stuff this morning before the funeral. Some of it will be shipped back to Vegas…the rest…my family can fight over. Uncle Herb offered to take care of everything for me…"

"Your uncle Herb…is really sweet, by the way, did I tell you that?" she asked.

"No…"

"When you went away to wash your face, he told me I was beautiful and that I couldn't have gotten hooked up with a nicer guy," she grinned.

Gil gave a soft laugh, "when you took a tour of the house with Rebecca, Herb told me you were stunning."

"What's with your cousin Rebecca, anyway?" Sara asked, "She's…uh…"

"A pain in the ass?" Gil asked, "Yeah, she's high strung, nosy and she hates me. I think it bugs her that Herb seems to like me more than he likes his own daughter."

Sara laughed a little, "after having met her, that's understandable. She told me she'd always thought you were gay."

Gil made a face, "yeah, she's made that insinuation to me more than once, I just usually ignore it. I remind myself of how she's been married four times and two of those ex-husbands are in prison – one for attempted murder. Doesn't cheer me up of course, but it makes me feel less inadequate when she says such things."

Sara smirked, "Anyway…when I told her that me and you were…an item…she looked kinda stunned. I, uh…told her that I know for a fact that you definitely aren't gay. And that, even if you were, it would be none of her business."

"You don't have to defend me to my family," he mumbled.

"I know, but it felt good to put her in her place."

"Thanks…I guess," Gil replied, he closed his eyes, letting her hold him.

"A lot of your family were asking me questions…" Sara confessed, "they're, uh…very…uh…curious…"

"What questions were they asking?" he raised an eyebrow.

"If me and you were getting married…if I was pregnant…if we lived together…why am I dating a man obviously older than me…I just told them our personal life was between me and you and that they'd have to get answers out of you if they wanted them. I get the feeling that they think because I'm slightly younger than you—"

"Fifteen years is not 'slightly' younger," Gil interjected.

"—they think there has to be another reason I'm with you…more than just love…" Sara finished.

"Not an unusual thought to have, is it? People must think that all the time when they see us together. They must think I have a lot of money."

"Or that you're dynamite in bed," Sara responded.

Gil laughed, "yeah…right."

Sara winked, and smiled. "Anyway, your family are so…far up their own asses they can't see anything 'real' in front of them…know what I mean?"

"Wow. I've never had anyone who agreed with me about my family," Gil admitted, "it's…comforting."

Sara smiled and hugged him again, "that's what I'm here for."

Gil nodded, then sighed deeply to himself. The way Sara was holding him now just reminded him of how she'd held him when he'd cried in her arms. He'd had no clue how he could let himself get to breaking point in her presence. He'd never wanted her to see him that way. He felt humiliated, he was still having a hard time looking at her in the face.

"What's wrong?" Sara murmured.

"Nothing, I just…I'm feeling a bit…raw. Emotionally, I mean," he managed.

"I guess I should be glad you're at least admitting you're feeling something," Sara responded, she moved back slightly to look at him, "You have nothing to feel ashamed about, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"Crying."

"Oh. That," the blood rushed to his cheeks.

"I've seen plenty of guys cry," Sara shrugged, "over the stupidest things. I once made a guy cry when I tweezed one of his, uh…pubic…hairs out," she added.

Gil smiled slightly at this, "why would you do that?"

"To prove a woman's pain threshold is higher than a mans," she grinned, she tilted her head down a little and caught him in a soft quick kiss. "Point is, men cry. Don't feel bad about it."

A very sudden question popped into Gil's mind, "do you think it's weird I'm as old as I am and still…unmarried without kids…?"

"No," Sara answered straightforwardly, "is this about that thing you were talking about earlier…with your uncle?"

Gil sighed, "I guess…I can't stop thinking about it…"

"Gil…I didn't know your mom," Sara confessed, "but…I don't think she could have been disappointed in you..."

"But what if they're telling the truth…what if…this marriage thing and the kids thing is all she ever wanted from me…and I couldn't even give her that?"

"I think…they're looking at it the wrong way," Sara admitted, "I mean I'm no expert, I don't know your family, so it's hard to understand the way they think…but…it seems like your mother wanted you to be happy…kids and a wife might have been what she thought might have made you happy, might have completed you. I don't think those things are necessarily what she wanted from you…I think they're what she wanted for you…so you'd be happy."

Gil stared away into space, "I wish I believed that, but I keep getting this image of her holding a baby – a baby that's mines…and the face of that baby is just…blank…"

"Why is the baby's face blank, Gil?"

"I wish I knew," Gil answered. "It could be that I can't imagine what that baby would look like. It might be that the baby is a representation of myself and my life is a blank in my own eyes…there could be a hundred reasons why that baby doesn't have a face.

"Did you ever think, that…maybe in the vision…the reason the baby doesn't have a face is because the only thing you want to do in that vision is give your mother the baby to hold that…somehow the baby itself doesn't matter as much as seeing your mother hold it?" she asked.

Gil looked at her, "would have only been a matter of time before I came across that thought."

Sara kissed his head, "Are you really going to stay here tonight?"

"Yes," he answered. "Last chance for me to make peace with the house. After this…I never want to be here again."

"Okay…" Sara nodded, "do you want me to stay with you, or…" she trailed off, "do you want me to give you the night alone?"

"Don't take this the wrong way," he sighed, "but I think I need to do this alone. You're a distraction," he admitted, but he forced a smile, "and I mean that in a good way."

Sara stood slowly, "it's okay. I checked myself into a hotel, so I'll be there," she moved over to the nearby end table and scribbled the hotel name and room number on the piece of paper, "if you feel like joining me, this is where I'll be."

Gil nodded. He watched Sara pick up her jacket from where she'd left it draped across the back of a chair. She slipped it on and adjusted the collar, fixing her hair. "Sara...I wished you hadn't come," he admitted, "but…I'm glad you did…" he walked her outside to her car.

"I just wished you'd told me," Sara sighed, "but…I understand why you didn't, and I'm fine with it really..."

He led her to the rental car she'd arrived in, he opened the car door for her. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed lovingly for several moments before Sara's departure. He watched her go then turned to look at the house swathed in the shadows of night for the very last time.

"Well, house. It's just you and me now."

Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who sent such lovely reviews with kind words and encouraging comments - even to those especially who emailed me to say the wonderful things they've said. It's inspired me into wanting to continue more than I had at the point I was at yesterday. The CSI fanfic readers/writers are surely the most dedicated and open minded people out there, and I thank you all for your support.

I'll mention you all in chapter 72 :)

SS (Ash)