Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 94: Getting It Back – Part 5
August 25, 2005 (Day 125)
Grissom's Car
12:49 a.m.
While Grissom drove to the townhome complex to track down Greg, he struggled to push Tawny's disastrous 'fell in the pool, hit his head and drowned' scenario from his mind. Truthfully, he had processed at least a dozen of those cases over the years and he knew how easily it could happen.
Stopped at a red light about three blocks away from the townhouse, he glanced around to pass the time. That's when he saw a man who looked remarkably like David Hodges hosing out a squad car at a corner gas station. Upon further observation, he saw a man asleep on a bench adjacent to the parking lot of the station who, based on the hair and the flamboyant swim trunks, had to be Greg.
When the light turned green, Grissom pulled into the parking lot and alongside the vehicle, confirming it was indeed Hodges and Greg. "What's going on?" Jumping out of his car he begged, "Please tell me he didn't steal a squad car!"
"Not quite." Hodges turned off the hose and started looping it. "One of the nosy neighbors at the complex called 911 to report Greg disturbing the peace. They were hauling him in when I happened to um…be coming out of another townhouse I was visiting. By telling the cops he was the one in the hostage crisis yesterday I convinced them not to haul him in. They verified things with Warrick in Nick's absence. The plan was to drive around the corner and give him to me." He motioned into the car. "But he puked all over the car so they're making me clean it while they spend my money at Starbucks."
Having heard enough, Grissom walked over and knelt next to Greg. Then, grabbing his right wrist, he took a quick pulse. "How much did he have to drink and what was he drinking?"
"Tropical cocktails, I'm not sure how many." Hodges shut the patrol car door. "I'd guess about two shots in each drink."
Grissom pulled open Greg's eyelids to check his pupils. "His breathing is quite shallow." It was an eerie reminder of the story Greg told to Tucker about his suicide attempt…using pills and booze because he didn't want to deal. "Did you see him take any pills?" Gently he laid his hand on Greg's cheek to see if he was clammy and thought, I'm really sorry, Greg. You were under enough stress already. You didn't need severe psychological trauma added to your burden.
"No, he didn't have his pills with him. They're on the kitchen counter in the townhouse. He had a Percocet and a 800mg Motrin around five." Hodges came to rest standing at Grissom's side. "I feel really bad…I didn't remember he was on medication until he had the drinks in him. He was so tense earlier I thought it would be good for him to knock a few back and relax. He was having a great time when I left to um…use the restroom." Guilt induced him to declare, "I don't get out much and I was focused on…look, I stayed with him until Tawny arrived! She's the one who abandoned him, not me."
Grabbing both of Greg's hands Grissom pulled him to sitting. "She left because Greg cursed her out and refused to leave the party. She's at my house sleeping on the couch."
"Oh. I really am a terribly babysitter." He shivered. "Irving's going to have my ass."
"Help me get him into my back seat."
"If he hurls in your car do I have to clean that up too?" Hodges heaved a sigh. "Not that I think he has anything left."
"Stop worrying about your own ass and hurry up!"
Little America Hotel
12:58 a.m.
With Carrie passed out cold at Ted's Motel, Nick returned to their hotel. Glancing at his watch he noted the time and hurried into the lobby reaching into his back pocket for the room key.
"Hey there, handsome!" Sapphire yelled from her position in front of the fireplace. "It's about damn time!" Rushing over she threw her arms around his neck. "You're lucky I waited." Grabbing Nick's room key she giggled. "Wow…you're raring to go."
The Townhouse
1:32 a.m.
As they dragged incoherent Greg through the front door, Grissom instructed, "Let's put him on the old couch in case he gets sick." In the car on the way over he had phoned Sara and told her Greg was safely in his care and that he planned on staying with him.
"I've seen him like this before when he was overwhelmed by something," Hodges informed his co-worker. "I think getting numb is his coping mechanism. That was a couple of years ago though so, I don't know how frequently he's doing it…or if we should be worried."
After sitting him up, Grissom carefully removed Greg's vomit-stained t-shirt. Luckily he had somehow missed nailing his swim trunks. "Toss this in the trash." He threw it at Hodges.
Hodges shivered from the sight of Grissom stripping Greg. "I had a nightmare about the two of you once and this scene was in it…except the shirt was clean and you didn't stop there."
"Are you okay to drive now?" Grissom snapped, hoping the answer was yes.
"Yeah…I'm good." When he felt the weight of his glare Hodges announced, "Okay, I'm going to hit the road. If you see Irving put in a good word for me because…right…I'm going."
Once they were alone, Grissom pulled Greg to his feet. "Let's get you in the shower and see if that helps you come around."
The first mumbles out of Greg's mouth brought a smile to Grissom's face. Although he didn't suspect Greg was in grave danger, it was nice to get confirmation that he was getting better not worse. Because if Greg needed to be hospitalized for combining booze with pills while out on disability and a flagged personnel file, his job at the lab would be history.
"Tawny…" Greg mumbled while willing his lids to lift.
"No, it's Grissom." Gently he set Greg on the floor of the large tile shower. "Sorry about this," He remarked before blasting the ice cold water.
"OH!" Greg flailed and tried to block the frigid assault. "WHY!"
"Because you need it." Grissom aimed the water at Greg's head. "Just another minute."
"Gris…stop!" Curling up in a ball he begged, "Stop! I'm freezing!"
While the water kept running Grissom opened the linen closet and was happy to find it had been stocked at some point that day. Grabbing a large fluffy towel, he returned to the shower and shut off the water. "Give me your hand." When he saw Greg extend his shaky limb Grissom shook his head. "Careful." He helped him to his feet. The soaked bathing suit was barely staying on and Grissom noticed for the first time how much weight he'd lost in the last couple of months…another symptom of the stress he'd been harboring. Under his loud baggy shirts the weight loss hadn't been noticeable.
"It's so cold in here." Shivering uncontrollably he wrapped his arms around his wet body.
"We had the air turned up because we were hot from moving everything in. I'll turn it off in a minute. Here's a towel." He draped it around his shoulders. "Do you feel nauseous?"
Trembling he shook his head.
"Do you remember what happened by the pool with Tawny?"
Shivering under the towel he remarked in confusion, "Tawny was at the pool?"
"Yes, she was and you said some things that really hurt her." Grissom knew how awful it was to realize after the fact that you wounded the one you love with harsh words. He'd never forget the look on Sara's face that day in the living room when he was raging.
After trying desperately to remember, Greg asked in a tenuous voice, "What did I say?"
"She told me you screamed at her and pushed her away." When he saw the horror in Greg's eyes he quickly clarified. "Figuratively pushed her away, you didn't touch her. When I spoke with Sara on the way over here she confirmed with Tawny, that it was limited to you making accusations concerning a certain appliance we found earlier today and cursing at her for asking you to return to the townhouse and sleep."
"I don't remember…" His fingers slowly moved through his wet hair as he tried once more.
Grissom placed his hands on his shoulders. "Greg, you need help. Tawny…she's too overwhelmed right now to be responsible for making sure you get it. I can help you, or if you'd rather call your mother..."
"No." Lowering his head he whispered, "You."
Jim Brass's Apartment
4:47 a.m.
Lying on her back on the welcome mat outside her father's apartment, Ellie whispered, "Daddy," as she weakly attempted to knock on the door and get help. Clutching her bruised ribs she winced and mustered the strength to try one more time.
Looking up she saw the city lights blur and heard the fading sound of siren in the distance. "Daddy…" She repeated while her trembling hand slid down the door. "Help…"
Closing her eyes she decided to give in to the sleepiness beckoning. "We'll talk…in the morning."
Ted's Motel
6:08 a.m.
The cheap plastic window blinds were no match for the harsh morning sunlight pouring into Room Seven. So when Carrie's eyes fluttered open the harsh brilliance assaulted her, causing her lids to reflexively snap shut. Bringing her hands to her pulsating head she moaned under the covers. "Nicky…I don't feel well."
He didn't answer.
Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the parched roof of her mouth. "Nicky…please." In too much pain to sit up, she slid her hand to the other side of the bed to stir him. But instead of finding him she found a piece of paper and what felt like a dollar bill. Grasping both items she brought them in front of her face, trying to focus her eyes in spite of the blinding pain in her head.
Had to hit the road so I left twenty bucks
cab fare. Maybe I'll see you around.
"What…" Clutching the note in one hand and her throbbing head with her other, she gingerly sat against the headboard and forced her eyes open wider. "Where…" The cheap hotel room was trashed with empty Budweiser cans strewn about, a floor lamp knocked on its side, and bedding hanging off the lumpy mattress. Upon further inspection she noted her clothes were littered from one end of the room to the other, and her bra was hanging over the TV, which was tuned into pay-per-view porn.
"I don't…" Nothing made sense and she desperately tried to recall the happenings of the previous night. Closing her eyes, images flickered in her mind like a choppy movie. Nick dressed in his cowboy gear. Her swallowing nasty shots. Pool. Nachos. Kissing Nick. Dancing with Ren. A woman screaming in her face. Rolling on the sticky bar floor. Ren helping her up. "But…" She wondered how she got to the motel room. Her panic mounting she wondered where Nick was and prayed he was the one who left the note.
"Oh god…" Nick had to be the one who left the note. It was part of the game she assured herself. She was supposed to get dressed and use the money to get back to the hotel the same way she came, in a cab. But what if it wasn't Nick's note? It didn't look like his handwriting. "Oh god no…" What if it was Ren who brought her there? What if it was his note! The idea that she could have slept with another man terrified her. "No…I wouldn't." Then she remembered Nick dancing with another women and a new wave of panic surged through her. What if Nick went off with her and I slept with someone for revenge? "No, he wouldn't."
Realizing she was naked, Carrie fumbled for the bedsheet, wrapped it tightly around her body and stepped out of bed. "Oh…" Gripping the edge, she dropped to her knees. That's when she saw her panties under a chair. Too weak to walk, she crawled across the skanky motel carpet to retrieve them, while hoping she'd wake from the unpleasant dream.
That's when her stomach began churning. "Oh…" She tried to get to her feet but failed, so she dragged herself across the dirty bathroom floor, barely making it to the bowl in time.
After her third purge she curled up with the shakes and clutching her knees to her chest, she noticed her bare left hand. In her delirium she wondered if this truly was her reality, and her life with Nick was only a delightful dream from which she just woke. Never feeling more horrible she swore she was dying, and if this was truly her life she wouldn't mind disappearing.
Sickness building again she pleaded, "No." Blinded by the pain, sweat beaded on her forehead and the room spun faster. Scared, weak and alone she released a desperate whimper, "Stop…please."
But it didn't.
As she fought the nausea, tears squeezed out of her tightly clenched eyes. "Help me…" The bile rising once more she gripped the edge of the toilet, attempting to pull herself up in time to purge.
"I've got you," Nick confidently announced while scooping her into his arms.
"Nicky?" Forcing her eyes open Carrie stared at the blur holding her as she shook violently. "Is it…really you?"
"It's really me." She was six shades of green as he steadied her in front of the bowl and held her hair.
"Please tell me you brought me here," She cried while latching on to him. "I'm scared."
"Shhh…it's okay. It was me, Sweetheart," He answered allaying her worst fear. "No one else was here."
"I'm so sick." Never in her life had she felt such intense pain in her gut. "Something's wrong."
Holding her tight he urged, "Don't fight it, just let it out."
Convulsing with sickness she clung to Nick and to consciousness.
The Townhouse
6:17 a.m.
Barely conscious, Grissom heard the screams getting louder and he shouted, "Sara!" He bolted off the couch. "Sara!" Instinctively he darted through his townhouse to the bedroom, believing she was having another nightmare about Mike Rodgers. "Sar.."
Standing in the doorway he saw it was Greg tossing and turning and he snapped back to the present, relieved that living here with Sara and her Rodgers nightmares were things of the past. "Greg!" He called out while trying to grab him. "Greg! Wake up!"
Winded, Greg sat up and scurried back until he crashed against the headboard. "Is it…" Frantically he scanned the room. "Is it real?" A gasp for air followed the words.
"No." Grissom took a seat on the edge. "You were having a nightmare."
Lacing his fingers behind his head he rocked in bed. "They're getting worse…they're getting worse."
"I'm getting you help, remember?" Grissom reached for the glass of water he had left on the nightstand and extended it, hoping Greg would take it. "I'm phoning Dr. Myers this morning to ask if you can have my afternoon appointment."
"It's coming for me," he panted. "It's coming because I wasn't supposed to make it. It's messing with me first and then it's coming for me for good."
"What's coming?" Grissom retracted the water when he saw his eyes were wild with panic. Once again the guilt over leaving Greg at the scene flooded him. "Greg…what's coming for you?"
"Death." Weeping, he brought his knees to his chest. "I can't…"
Ted's Motel
6:22 a.m.
After three violent purges and a few rounds of tortuous dry heaves, Carrie's stomach was finally empty. "I can't possibly…"
"I'm pretty sure you're done." Nick cradled her in his arms, popped a mint into her mouth and brought a cold washcloth to her face. After a few minutes he spoke in a tender voice. "I was right outside the motel door when you woke. I was giving you time to finish up your drunken one-night stand experience before I intervened. Pretty scary waking up naked and not remembering what happened the night before, isn't it?"
Recalling her panic over not knowing who brought her there she replied, "I was terrified."
"I'll fill in the blanks for you." Gently stroking her hair he explained, "While you were sleeping it off, I drove down the road to our hotel to get you some comfy clothes and your toiletries…your toothbrush especially. Then I stopped at the market on the corner to buy you some Ginger Ale, crackers and Advil. I left everything in the truck so you wouldn't see it when you woke. I got up about five and caught up on sports scores while watching you sleep. When you started stirring I stepped outside." His lips curved into a smile. "But first I ordered a skin flick to up the shock value."
Slowly lifting her aching head she whispered, "You were teaching me a lesson. I recognize this from stories you've told me. This is Stokes parenting at its finest. Oh, you've got it down."
Proud of himself he replied, "Now that you mention it, I believe it was some good old fashion Stokes parenting." Smiling wider he brushed her damp tangled hair off her face. "You should know, we didn't drink those beers. Or knock over the lamp. And your clothes came off after you passed out in my arms and I put you to bed. Even though you were throwing yourself at him, Travis didn't get lucky last night. Nick kicked his ass to the curb and strung you along whispering sweet nothings and kissing ya until you were out cold." Cupping her cheek he whispered, "Your position count is still three, Darlin'. Because what's the point of sharing something pleasurable with you if you're not going to remember the pleasure?"
"I love you," She squeaked, while shaking from alcohol withdrawal.
"Tell me…do you still feel sad you missed out on this stuff?"
A whimpered, "No," tumbled off her parched lips. "It's awful…all of it. Especially not remembering everything that happened."
Smiling again he asked, "So, you think you're ready to settle down now that you've sown your first and last wild oat?"
She nodded slowly. "Definitely."
"Good. Because last night, when Missy was ripping off my clothes and begging me to do her up against the wall…and I had Vicki Lynn's lovely offer to ride me until dawn…and Sapphire was at the hotel waiting for me…and next door at The Rusty Spur, were a bunch of lonely women looking to get laid, you know what I was thinking?"
"What?"
In a tender voice he confessed, "I was thinking…all these loose women are ripe for the picking, but all I really want is to make love to my fiancée, but she's no where to be found." From his shirt pocket he pulled out Carrie's engagement ring, slipped it on her finger and locked it in place with a kiss. "I know my oats are sown. And I hope you know that if you had wanted to, you could have had any guy in that bar…or back in college." Placing his fingertips under her chin he raised her gaze to his. "There's nothing wrong with you, Carrie. There wasn't anything wrong with you back then and there isn't now. The abuse you suffered didn't render you undesirable. You could have boozed and tramped it up with the best of them if you wanted to…and a ton of guys, myself included, would have fought for the chance to have you up against the wall night after night. But what would that make you today other than a bitter and desperate Vicki Lynn twin?"
In shame she averted her eyes. "I feel so stupid. I counsel girls not to…"
"Don't…you're a late bloomer and everybody tests the waters…some people do it once, for some it takes a few times, and some people get stuck doing it for a long time because it's the only thing making them feel good in their life." After kissing her forehead he remarked, "I'm just glad you waited to test things until I could be with you."
Somehow, even when she hadn't been able to, Nick had figured out what her real issues were and with his actions and words, eliminated them once and for all. "Thank you," She sniffled as she snuggled closer and stared at her left hand. "I'm really glad I got my ring back. I don't even think I'll take it off to clean it."
Blowing out a breath he said, "We both learned something valuable last night and now we never have to play that game again."
"Never," She sighed with relief.
"We can do whatever you'd like, but…" He kissed her hand a second time. "…as Nick and Carrie. We can try everything in your new books, and games are fine…Carrie the librarian and Nick who needs help finding a book on sex, for example." He started laughing at himself. "The book's checked out so the librarian feels obligated to educate me personally."
Still suffering from the hangover she spoke softly. "Can we time travel…early 1800s…Nick the cowboy and Carrie, the Indian Princess find each other in the plains and discover forbidden love?"
Laughing at the wild idea he asked, "What made you think of that, Darlin'?"
"Hmm…I don't know."
Since the color was returning to Carrie's face Nick was ready to tease her a little. "So let's review…how many of your five things did you accomplish?" He counted them out on his fingers. "Role-play…you definitely nailed that one, a little too well, Missy. Dancing…you tried, but you were so pathetic I'm gonna give you a redo. Booze…oh yeah and I don't think you'll want to drink for a while. Stars…I'm sure you saw plenty while you were hurling, but I'd like to work in gazing at some real ones with you. Singing…"
"Did I sing in public?" She cringed at the thought.
"Nope." He decided to kill two birds with one stone by singing to her…completing her list and escalating her headache. Considering the circumstances, he felt Garth Brooks' Friends in Low Places would work best. "Blame it all on my roots. I showed up in my boots and ruined your black tie affair..."
When Carrie heard Nick belting out the tune at the top of his lungs her hands instinctively raced to cover her ears. "Is this part of the lesson?"
Intensifying his twang, he crooned the chorus. "Cause I got friends in low places. Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away…"
Finally she remembered to utter the magic word. "Stop!"
"Why? Is your head hurtin', Sweetie?" He kissed the top of it and then stood. "I'll head out to the truck and get your recovery supplies…and the camera, because I can't wait to tell our kids about this part of the trip." Watching her squirm he teased, "I'll say…look, son, here's your white-trash mama wrapped in a sheet on the filthy bathroom tiles of the no-tell motel after horking up two orders of nachos, six shots, four beers and a half bottle of wine. It was a hell of a night…you should have seen her rolling around on the dance floor bitch-slapping and g-string pulling the woman who touched your daddy's ass. Yep, your mama was madder than a wet hen, but don't worry, my boy, you weren't conceived that night because she was so trashed she passed out before I could drive the peg home."
Holding her head she cringed. "You make it sound so romantic."
"Truly, it was." Chuckling, he turned to leave.
"Hey…" Carrie called out when Nick was in the doorway. "Why do you have a bruise on your cheek?" Her hands rushed to her mouth. "Did I do something that…"
"No." Reaching up he felt the lump on his cheekbone. "Last night after you passed out, when I returned to the hotel for your stuff, guess who was waiting for me in the lobby?"
"Oh no." Carrie lowered her hands. "The hot tub slut?"
"Yeah."
"Hey there, handsome!" Sapphire yelled from her position in front of the fireplace. "It's about damn time!" Rushing over she threw her arms around his neck. "You're lucky I waited." Grabbing Nick's room key she giggled. "You're raring to go."
"Hold up!" He pulled away just in time to avoid her kiss. "Here's the thing. You were coming on to me in front of my fiancée and I wanted to teach you a lesson, so when you said tell me when and where I told you midnight in the lounge, but I wasn't planning on meeting you. I'm only here to pick up some stuff. I didn't even remember I said that until now." Suddenly feeling bad, he counseled, "Look, you're a very attractive young woman, why not drop the sleaze routine and…"
"You led me on!" Not in the mood for a lecture, her hand instinctively balled into a fist. "You bastard!"
Carrie eyed the purple and blue contusion. "Ouch!"
The Blakes
6:29 a.m.
As Wendy smoothed a Band-Aid over McKenna's knee she sweetly asked, "Do you want me to get your Boo-Boo Bunny ice pack from the freezer?"
"No," The five year old girl sniffled. "Ryan says…no pain, no gain."
Sighing, Wendy asked, "Has your brother being teaching you to play football again?"
She nodded.
"Ryan Patrick Blake!"
"Uh oh." McKenna covered her mouth as she giggled. "Middle name means trouble."
When the phone rang Wendy kissed her daughter's forehead. "Tell your brother to come and see me."
"Yes, Mommy." Her Band Aid working its magic she trotted off.
On the third ring Wendy grabbed the phone. "Hello."
"Hey, Wendy, it's Sara."
"Hi, Sara." Opening the fridge she took out a carton of eggs. "Sean is raring to go on this hike."
"That's why I'm calling. We need to push it to nine if that's okay?"
"Sure, we have nothing planned today so…"
"And I have an offer to make you."
"An offer?" Wendy returned the eggs to the fridge since she wouldn't be making breakfast for Gil and Sara.
"Gil told me you wished you could spend a day hiking, so I want to watch the kids for you so you can join Gil and Sean. I'll have help…Tawny is coming along because she needs some practice."
"Are you sure?" Wendy was thrilled by the offer. "Only if you're…"
"I'm positive. There is one more thing…Greg will be coming too because he's home recovering."
"Right, Nick told me he hurt his back. Is he doing any better?" Wendy talked as she rushed for her bedroom to locate her no doubt, dusty hiking boots. "I can't tell you how thankful I am that Greg prevented anything from happening to McKenna." Wendy was happy to find her boots in the closet and even happier at the prospect of spending a day in the great outdoors with only one out of four of her children.
"Actually, Greg's doing worse and not just his back, but emotionally."
"Well then, why do you want to subject him to my children?" Sitting on the bed she said, "We'll put this off for another day, Sara."
"No, because here's what we're thinking..."
Jim Brass's Apartment
6:33 a.m.
Unable to sleep from thinking about Ellie all night, Jim started a pot of coffee in the kitchen, hoping a couple of black cups would wake him. Heading for the front door to retrieve the newspaper he knotted his tie, dreading the day at the office. But when he opened his front door, that dread was soon replace by terror.
"Ellie!" He crouched down and shook her hard. "Ellie, wake up!"
There was no response.
"Heather! Call 911! It's Ellie!" He screamed as he frantically took his deathly pale and recently beaten daughter's pulse.
With the phone balanced in the crook of her neck Heather raced to the door cinching her robe. "Is she breathing! Does she have a pulse? She hid her panic for Jim's sake, but was shaken by the girl's corpse-like appearance.
Fighting to control the horror building within he breathlessly replied, "Yes…but too low and too shallow. We need to get her to the hospital."
Heather heard the operator.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"We need an ambulance…"
Jim lifted his limp daughter into his arms. "Not like this, Ellie. We were so close to working this out…come on…stay with me here." Cradling her he kissed her clammy forehead. "You came back…you're back. I love you, Sweetheart."
"They're on their way, Jim." Heather covered the phone and remained calm for him. "I threw your title in for leverage and they're flying here." Reaching out she took Ellie's wrist to make sure there was a pulse and not wishful thinking on Jim's behalf.
Rocking his daughter he soothed, "It's not too late….everything's gonna be fine. You'll get better. We'll be fine."
The Grissoms'
6:41 a.m.
Sara walked over to the couch with a steaming mug of green tea. "Here you go." She extended it to Tawny who was curled up under a blanket. "So, we're all set with Wendy."
"I hope it helps." Accepting the tea Tawny smiled. "Thanks for taking such good care of me, Sara. You're like the big sister I always wanted."
"Since I always wanted a little sister, it's a win-win." She plopped in her husband's favorite chair. "Are you feeling better now that you slept well? Seeing things a bit clearer?"
After sipping gingerly, she answered, "I know he wasn't himself, but do you think the things he said…the insecurities, he really still feels them? Because we talked all this out when we were at the hospital and agreed there was no need to worry, that neither of us would want to be with anyone else even if there were not babies."
"Honestly?" Sara reflected on her past. "Not normally but, deep down…yes, but only because he loves you so much. I think the fear of losing you feeds his old insecurity when he's feeling vulnerable." A smile popped up on her face. "Am I a therapy star or what?"
"You are." Tawny returned the smile. "So, Miss Know It All…how do I handle seeing Greg the morning after our first fight?"
"Since he's the one who blew it, all you have to do is stand there and let him do the talking." Thinking back to Gil's appearance in Tahoe, his heartfelt plea and the subsequent reconciliation, Sara's smiled widened. "And if you like what he says…love him back."
Desert Springs ER
7:02 a.m.
Jim sat in the waiting room staring at a little girl sitting on her father's lap and he wished he could turn back time.
"Here…" Heather handed Jim a cup of black coffee. "Do you need anything else?"
In lieu of words he shook his head.
"You can't blame yourself for this." Taking the open chair next to him she soothed, "This is the life she was leading before you asked her to leave tonight. She didn't suddenly go out and score drugs and find herself on the receiving end of a man's fist. You know it was happening in LA. The difference is…" Reaching out she took his hand. "…tonight she decided to come back to you for help because of what you said to her earlier."
He knew she was right but absolution didn't seem possible. "It won't do much good if she's…"
"Mr. Brass?" The doctor called as he approached.
"Yes." Jim stood with Heather's hand still clasping his .
"She's out of danger and resting comfortably." Grabbing his clipboard the doctor announced, "You can go back and see her now. Since we're not sure if the excess of drugs was ingested accidentally, either by her own hand or someone else's, or if it was a suicide attempt, we'll be admitting her to Psych."
Jim finally caught up with the doctor's words. "She's okay."
"Yes." The doctor nodded. "But at risk for future episodes if she doesn't receive treatment."
Gripping Heather's hand, Jim confidently replied, "As soon as she's feeling better, I'm driving her directly to an in-patient treatment facility."
Little America Hotel
8:09 a.m.
Stepping out of the luxurious hotel bathroom wearing her blue gingham Victoria's Secret boxer pajama set, Carrie sighed, "There's no place like home." Although she had showered in the cheap motel bathroom, she didn't feel truly clean until soaking in a steamy bubble bath at the hotel. "I hope I don't get foot fungus from using the shower at that icky place," She half joked. "If Sara knows I showered there she'll be afraid to let me walk barefoot in her house."
Sitting on the end of the bed lacing up his hiking boots Nick commented, "You look much better."
After yawning she approached the bed. "I still feel like death warmed over."
Standing up he pulled down the covers. "Time to sleep it off, Boozer." On the drive back Carrie had insisted he go out and have some fun while she paid the price for her night of debauchery, so he told her he'd explore the trail off the back of the hotel property.
Slipping between the crisp clean sheets Carrie was already dreaming of peaceful slumber.
Tucking the covers around his fiancée, Nick grinned and then kissed her forehead. "On the nightstand you'll find water and juice bottles, crackers and a magazine should you regain the ability to focus your eyes before I get back." Taking her hand he placed the remote in it. "In case you want to order up some more porn."
Remembering the movie that Nick had jokingly ordered as part of her lesson, she groaned, "I don't think anything could top Star Whores."
"I heard the sequel, The Empress Strikes Back, is pretty hot. It's a bondage flick…" He laughed, "Brass highly recommends it." After a kiss on the forehead he reminded her, "I'll have my cell on if you need me."
"I'll be fine." She burrowed further into the pillows. "But if you see the hot tub slut, tell her I'm gonna kick her ass. Because as Vicki Lynn learned last night, no one in this town lays a hand on my man and gets away with it."
Heading for the door he joked, "I just thought of your next role play…Carrie starring in, The Empress Kicks Ass."
The Townhouse
8:14 a.m.
Grissom smiled like a proud papa as Greg shoveled the last forkful of pancakes into his mouth. "Feeling better?" With five hours of solid sleep Grissom felt like a new man. Greg had slept too, sans nightmares.
"Yeah…I feel better." He lifted his glass of orange juice and polished it off. "Well, physically anyway. Those were some righteous pancakes. Thanks."
"You're welcome." Grissom took Greg's empty breakfast plate and placed it in the sink. "Since you cleaned your plate, young man, you get a treat." He glanced at his watch. "She should be here any minute."
His ears perked. "Tawny?"
"She said she'd be here at 8:15."
He couldn't believe he blew it on their first night in their first real place together. Sadly he asked, "To get her things so she can stay at your place?"
"No." Grissom grabbed a dishrag to dry his hands. "Even though that diamond you bought her isn't on her finger yet, she's in it for the long haul. When you're in a committed relationship you can't throw in the towel every time it gets rough." He tossed the dishrag at Greg's head. "Remember that in case you're ever on the receiving end."
The sound of the front door opening sent Greg's pulse notching. "What do I say?" He panicked. "I really screwed up!"
"Trust me…what you did was hardly a FUBAR." Grissom tapped his chest. "I know FUBAR." Now an expert on the subject, Grissom advised like an old sage, "Start with 'I'm sorry' and back it up with the actions you're taking so it won't happen again." Grabbing his keys and sunglasses he started walking down the hall. "Good luck."
A minute later when Greg saw Tawny enter the living room with teary eyes, he rushed to throw his arms around her. "I love you and I'm so sorry. Whatever I said…I didn't mean it. I'm a mess…I'm…" He clutched her tighter, breathing in her familiar scent and grateful she wasn't pulling away. "Grissom called Dr. Myers' office at eight…I'm taking his appointment this afternoon and I'll get my head straight. I promise, even if I have to go to therapy…or take pills…I'll do whatever she says. And I won't drink anything…and I'll sleep…please let me stay with you…I promise I'll do whatever you say and…"
"Greg…" Tawny sniffled and her heart soared when she realized how much he needed her. "You're suffocating me. I mean that literally, not figuratively."
"Oh…" He released her from the embrace and took a step back. "Sorry for that too." It took all his strength not to reach out and hug her again immediately. "I honestly don't remember what I said, but I'm sure it was like the nightmares…things got jumbled together and weren't really true."
"I realize that now that I'm rested and rational myself." Reaching out she took his hand. "I love you, Greg. We'll get through this, but it has to be together. Don't push me away. And you can't avoid stuff. And no more drinking until your head's straightened out."
"I promise and thank you for putting up with me." He squeezed her hand harder and embraced her with his eyes. "Could I um…hug you again if I promise not to crush you and the babies?"
She answered by wrapping her arms around him. "Yes."
Clutching her gently, he soulfully whispered, "I'm really sorry we didn't spend our first night here together. After all you've been through and getting kicked out of your house as a kid, I know how important it is to you to have a home. I'm really sorry it started off so badly. I love you, Tawny. I promise you'll always have a place with me and our babies will grow up in a happy home."
Flagstaff
Little America Hiking Trail
8:57 a.m.
Having jogged the two-mile trail twice, Nick was ready to kick back and enjoy the serenity of the ponderosa pine forest. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders he scanned the remote area and when he saw a slanted boulder he felt it would make an excellent outdoor recliner. A minute later he was lying against the smooth rock gazing at a perfect blue sky.
Breathing in the cool air he couldn't deny he was relaxing more every second. That's when the realization hit. The only times he'd felt calm on the trip so far were when Carrie wasn't with him…yesterday watching a ballgame in the motel room and now. What was the significance he wondered as he watched a hawk circling above?
In the grand scheme of things, the relationship was still in its infancy and since he never had a serious relationship before, the dynamic was all new to him. Were they all like this? Were they all this…stressful? Pondering it he thought, Grissom does look greyer since living with Sara, and Greg has dropped weight again, just like he did after the lab explosion took its toll on him. None of us have lived with women before so maybe we're going through an adjustment period? Which made him wonder…how long does the adjustment period last?
With no answers to any of the questions, he decided to take care of some business. Grabbing his cell, he checked to see if he had service, then punched in a phone number and settled back. Two rings later when he heard her voice say hello his lips spread into a smile. "Guess who?"
"I don't believe it!" She gasped. "Is this really Nicholas Graham Stokes, crime fighting superhero and ex-playboy turned one-woman man? I'm so honored you found the time to fit me into your busy schedule."
"Hi, Mom." Shaking his head he smiled. "Has it been that long? It must be 'cause you invoked the middle name."
"Well, let's see…you were out here in July and now it's the end of August…"
"Okay…guilty." He realized he hadn't called since the visit. "Sorry. Things have been crazy at work. I'm on vacation so, I'm catching up on important stuff."
"It's okay, Nicky, I know Carrie must fill all your non-work hours with hot and heavy…wedding planning."
"You know it. That's one of the reasons I'm calling." He smiled, anticipating his mother's reaction. "Carrie wants to switch the band. She's gone country, Mama."
"No!"
"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled. "She fell in love when I was teaching her the two-step and that's all we've been listening to on the trip. We even picked, Once in a Lifetime Love for our song."
"I knew she had great taste because she picked you, my Dear. It was only a matter of time until her taste in music caught up. I can't wait to see the two of you dance to that song."
"I was wondering if there was a chance of getting cousin Gary's band to play our wedding like he did for Barbara's. They're great."
"So great they're booked all the time, up to a year in advance. They just played for the Governor's ball, but I'll see what I can do because I have connections…and your Aunt Lisa owes me."
"Thanks, Mom." He breathed in a fresh dose of mountain air.
"So how's everything going? Still blissfully happy after one month of engagement?"
"Hell yeah. I'm thrilled!" Then his insecurity burst through. "But…"
"But? That worries me. I told you not to give her the ring unless you were certain you could grow old with her."
"No, that's not it." Having the opening, he confessed, "Don't get me wrong, if Carrie were to leave me today, I wouldn't care if the sun rose tomorrow but, Mom…this serious relationship thing is exhausting and I've come to find out that Carrie's a little high maintenance in some respects…not that I mind, I'm just not used to…mom? What's so funny?"
Once she stopped laughing hysterically, Mrs. Stokes commented, "I'm sure it was a lot simpler when you only dealt with a woman once, and for forty-eight hours maximum. You see, when you're both drunk, highly agreeable, and your biggest decision is who will open the condom wrapper, the relationship is easy and highly satisfying. Engagement and marriage is a tad more complex and not as immediately gratifying." Her commentary done she began laughing again.
"I shoulda seen that coming." Massaging his forehead he said, "Okay then…let me know about the band and…"
"Awww, are you not up for a little ribbing today, Son?"
"It's..." After cycling through a deep breath he admitted, "This vacation I'm on, it's mandated from my boss because I've been…" Watching the trees blow he fell silent.
"Nicky?" Her tone turning serious she prodded, "Is something wrong?"
In a vulnerable moment he confessed, "I sort of…um…snapped at a crime scene when I incorrectly thought the victim was McKenna, Carrie's niece. The two most popular terms onlookers used to describe my reaction were nervous breakdown and complete mental snap. Considering they didn't see most of it because I had the sense to run and hide before bawling my eyes out, it was pretty bad. There were some other things after that incident which made me appear unstable so, the quality control officer recommended I be forced to use some of my vacation time . So that's why I…yeah…" Regretting the confession he suddenly clammed up.
"I'm sorry for teasing you, Nicky, I wouldn't have if I had known you're under duress."
"It's okay." A smile crept over his mouth. "I was fronting, which according to Carrie, I'm very good at, so how would you know I'm messed up? And I'm sure you've been patiently waiting to toss that well-deserved relationship slam in my face for over a decade, because it's no secret you disapproved of my dating habits."
"I'm afraid I have been waiting, and you know I'm thrilled you've finally settled down." Sighing she said, "But I love you unconditionally and you should know I'm always here for you."
"Thanks, Mom." Staring up at the sky he shared his greatest concern. "Should I be worried that my relationship with Carrie makes me tense? I'm always worried about protecting her, or making her happy, or making our life together as great as possible. It's like now that I have her in my life I have a second full-time job. When it was just me, I didn't really have a care in the world when I left work and it was a lot easier to decompress. Jim, my boss, he says I need to figure out a way to balance it all." Searching for a question he finally said, "I guess I'm looking for advice on how to accomplish that, because you and Dad had it all figured out with a great marriage, seven kids and two high pressure careers. And since all my siblings seem to be doing it real well too, I'm thinkin' either you all are keepin' the secret from me, or I'm the only one in the family with different DNA."
"You want to know the big secret?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"There isn't one." Mrs. Stokes warmed her voice to a loving tone. "Honey, it takes time and practice that's all. Your daddy wasn't any better at it than you when we first started out."
"I find that impossible to believe," He remarked while shaking his head
"Well by the time you were old enough to observe him he was great at it." Chuckling she added, "And while your daddy would like you to think he's infallible, I know better and it's my prerogative to share my knowledge with my baby boy. When we were first married, although we loved each other to pieces, we'd get into pissing matches regularly…and your daddy usually lost."
Nick told her, "I don't recall ever seeing the two of you argue."
In a laugh she replied, "Sweetie, by the time you came along we'd been married for eleven years…we had argued everything worth arguing twice. We were done."
"I suppose so." Breathing deep he prodded, "What else ya got on my old man?"
"On our first anniversary he was an hour late for supper and I locked him out of our apartment in the rain. He kept running to the store buying more and more roses and begging me to forgive him. When he got to four dozen I opened the door."
Nick imagined Carrie would give in at three dozen, or one pair of shoes…not that he'd ever be late.
"But this is my personal favorite, although I'm sure your sister would disagree. One time, your daddy was supposed to be watching Katie but turned his attention to the Cotton Bowl game on TV…we ended up in the ER after Katie rolled off the couch and broke her arm. I gave him hell about that for years. Is this helping you, Honey?"
"I believe it is." Breathing a little easier he asked, "Has dad ever cried?"
"Every time one of you children was born."
Nick nodded. "Am I the first of your children to have these concerns?"
"No, you're the seventh as a matter of fact."
Smiling now he thought the sky looked even brighter. "I hear you."
"Your sister Kendra just called last week sobbing because her boss told her she wouldn't make partner unless she started putting in seventy hours instead of sixty. With two little ones at home and Barry starting his own medical practice…they're tapped. Choices have to be made and they're still trying to figure out the right ones. And Andy…good Lord, he asks the most ridiculous ones…about six months ago he calls wanting to know why Melissa doesn't want to get dressed up and party all night like she used to. Somehow it never dawned on him that staying home with three children under the age of four was draining her. It's his fault for moving them to Chicago where there's no family to help. But he had to take that big promotion."
"That's Andy." Shaking his head he shared, "Last time I talked with him he was complaining that Melissa wasn't losing her baby weight fast enough and he was thinking of switching country clubs because the current one wasn't prestigious enough."
She groaned, "Baa Baa, Black Sheep of the family."
"It's nothing you did, Mom. Every family has one." Nick took a cleansing breath. "So, I guess Carrie and I just need to keep getting to know each other better and keep working on the relationship, and then eventually it will be so natural I won't worry so much and get tense?"
"Exactly." Laughing sweetly she said, "But, Nicky…she is a high maintenance woman. I think she had fifteen pairs of shoes with her when she came to visit for three days."
Immediately he jumped to her defense. "In all fairness, she didn't know where I was taking her so she had to keep her options open. If I had been specific she could have cut it down to probably six, maybe even five." Grinning he told her, "She only brought ten on this trip. And I'm really starting to get the shoe thing because she had these cute little sandals with ribbons to wear with her new bathing suit and they really did make the whole thing look better. Oh, and last night she wore those red snakeskin boots, remember the ones she showed you she picked up when we were there? You couldn't believe how much she spent on them when she's never listened to a country music album from start to finish. Well they looked great on her, but the poor thing didn't know to break them in first so when we were out last night…"
"Nicky…" Laughing at her son's enthusiasm over his fiancée's shoes she remarked, "You really do love her somethin' awful, don't you?"
"I sound that pathetic, huh?"
"Absolutely…I love it."
The Blakes
9:05 a.m.
"I love it!" Sean exclaimed when he saw the five gallon terrarium Gil presented him. "Thank you so much!"
"Are those…" Wendy stared through the glass wall. "…enormous cockroaches?"
"Not just any cockroaches, Mom." Sean beamed with excitement. "Gromphadorhina portentosa!"
Wendy gulped. "Is that Latin for large and disgusting?"
"No, it's the name for Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches." Sara placed a supportive hand on Wendy's shoulder. "It takes about three months before you stop shivering every time you see them. Here's the good news…you have something in common with them, they're vegetarians. They enjoy a diet of romaine lettuce and dandelions."
Gil lovingly gazed at his roach-knowledgeable wife then whispered in her ear, "Sweetheart, I wasn't this enamored with you when you were dusting."
"Do we have any romaine lettuce, Mom?" Sean anxiously wanted to feed his new friends.
"Hey, Mom…" Ryan strolled in tossing a baseball and catching it in his glove. "Have you seen my…AHHHHHHH!" He jumped back when he saw the small aquarium crawling with horrid bugs. "What the hell are those!"
Wendy snipped, "Ryan Patrick Blake, you watch your mouth. In front of company especially! Now say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Grissom."
Droning, he did as requested, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Grissom."
"Hello," They replied together.
Sara sized up her first challenge of the day.
Taking the ball and glove from her son, Wendy informed the babysitter, "You should know he's grounded from playing sports and watching non-educational TV."
Gil stuffed his hands in his pockets. "As a child that wouldn't have impacted my fun. If you wanted to torture me you had to take away books and my science equipment."
Sara turned to her husband. "How often did that happen, Bad Boy?"
"About once a year."
"You only got in trouble once a year!" Ryan said spittingly. "I get in trouble once a day! Sometimes once an hour!"
Wendy looked at Sara, who was trying not to show her panic. "It's not too late to change your mind."
"No!" Sara vehemently shook her head. "We'll be fine." Nervously she eyed Ashley who was bouncing up and down in an Exer-saucer. "You did um…write down all the instructions for her, right?"
"Yes." Wendy tried not to laugh.
"Knock knock!" Tawny greeted from the open front door where she was standing holding Greg's hand. "Hi everyone."
Gil and Sara stepped out of the way and let Wendy make the official greeting.
"Greg and Tawny!" Wendy lurched forward. "I've heard so much about you from Nick and Carrie." When she saw Greg she held her arms open. "I'm afraid I have to give you a hug for what you did to protect my little girl."
Sara joked, "Go ahead. He's not unnerved by personal space violations like Gil."
"Thank you, Greg." Wendy hugged him tightly. "The thought of that vile man having my daughter in his sights still gives me nightmares. I'm so grateful you were able to catch him."
Returning the hug Greg quietly replied, "You're welcome, but I was just doing my job."
"You can be modest if you'd like." Smiling, Wendy released her newest hero. "We all know otherwise." Turning her attention to Tawny she grinned wider. "And I hear you're expecting twins. Any time you have a question about that you feel free to give me a call."
Ryan stepped forward, interjecting his own advice. "Whatever you do…don't dress your twins in stupid matching outfits." That's when he saw them…the biggest boobs on the planet. "Whoa…speaking of twins." He muttered under his breath while thanking god for giving him this opportunity. It was like having the playboy magazine Bobby Shea had shown him come to life. "Whoa…" He whispered when he realized Tawny was like a breathing Barbie with big beautiful boobs. Boobs that were practically popping out of her v-neck pink lace shirt. Boobs that were his to stare at for hours. Suddenly consumed with thoughts of his babysitter's bountiful boobs Ryan anxiously announced, "I uh…need to go get something from my room!"
After his brother's hasty departure, Sean gave his take on twins. "Just because they're biologically twins doesn't mean your children will be anything alike. Take my brother and I…we have nothing in common."
Feeling comfortable Greg chimed in, "I could run your DNA and prove otherwise."
"Really?" Sean bubbled with enthusiasm. "Could you? Because I'd love to see where nature went wrong with Ryan."
"Now that's funny." Greg smiled proudly at his protégé.
Wendy wasn't sure she agreed.
Sean looked to his mother. "Mr. Sanders gave me some lessons on being funny."
Wendy stared at her impressionable son. "Is that why you asked to borrow my hair spray?"
Tawny saw the mother's reaction and changed the subject. "We really should get Greg to the couch because of his back."
Gil hurried to take Greg's arm and prayed Sean wouldn't mention the enlarged educational penis model to his mother.
Placing his new tank of pets on the dining room table Sean asked, "Who will look after my roaches while I'm hiking?"
Tawny laughed, "That sounds like a job for the girl who married the bug man. If you have any Chemistry-related projects I'll babysit those."
Sean was already too absorbed observing his roaches he didn't hear the answer.
While they were getting Greg settled on the couch, Wendy had gone to retrieve the cure for Greg's tension over the Tucker Mifflin incident. "Greg…I have someone who really wants to meet you." Holding McKenna's hand she said, "This is Mr. Sanders…he's your Uncle Nicky's good friend. He helps catch bad guys just like your Uncle." Then she turned to the ladies. "Why don't we head to the kitchen so I can show you where everything is, because food is the way to calm the savage beasts in this house?"
One look at the angelic girl wearing the same sweet dress covered in ladybugs as Tucker's first victim and Greg's breath caught in his throat.
Sociable McKenna walked directly to the couch to greet her new friend. "My Uncle Nicky told me you would have funny hair like a clown. He doesn't like it, but I do…it's very fluffy. He also said you like crayons. Will you color with me?"
"Uh…" Swallowing the lump in his throat Greg sweetly replied, "Yeah…I love coloring."
"Be right back!" Happy as a lark she took off to gather supplies.
Grissom caught Greg's eyes. "You don't get that kind of rush in the DNA lab, do you, Greg? Somehow makes it all worth while, don't you think?"
Greg replied in silence, the two men staring at one another and bonding a little more.
A moment later McKenna returned with a 64-pack of crayons and a bunch of coloring books. "I only have Princess coloring books." She handed him the crayons. "But there's animals in them to color too if you don't like Princesses because you're a boy. That's what my Uncle Nicky does. And he draws funny stuff on the Prince's too."
Cracking open the box of crayons Greg brought them to his nose, taking a prolonged sniff. The nostalgic scent as usual reminded him of simpler times. "I like Princesses," He sweetly remarked. "I plan on marrying one. You just saw her. She's a friend of your aunt's, her name is Princess Tawny. She's from a far away land called Cavanaugh County and she came here to Las Vegas looking for a Prince to rescue her so she could live happily ever after." Selecting a few colors he chuckled, "Instead of a prince she found me. We're not a Disney fairytale, we're definitely Dreamworks…like Shrek. Did you see Shrek?"
Grissom faded into the background, listening to the exchange.
"We have Shrek. Wanna watch it later?"
"Definitely." He started coloring Snow White's dress. "I like the part when they make balloon animals out of real animals."
"I like the end when they get married." She selected a Cinderella picture and grabbed a powder blue crayon. "Does Princess Tawny have a lot of shoes like my Aunt Carrie?"
"From what I've heard, no one in the land has more shoes than your Aunt Carrie."
"Why is that?"
Greg smirked. "Oh…I have a theory." Instead of sharing the inappropriate Ruby Slippers discussion, he said, "Every princess has a collection. Princess Tawny has a lot of pajamas."
Standing next to Sean watching the roaches Grissom chuckled at Greg's comment thinking yes, Princess Tawny probably has dozens of g-strings and teddies.
Greg continued, "And Princess Sara…she has a lot of books. That's how she found her prince. She went searching all over the kingdom until she found a man with more books than her…then she married him. Now they have a huge room in their castle where all their books live together happily ever after."
"But my Uncle Nick said he doesn't have a lot of shoes." In a panic she dropped her crayon. "That means he isn't the right prince for my Aunt Carrie! Now they can't get married!"
"What? No." When he saw the fear in the little girl's eyes he searched for a clever reply.
Grissom turned to see if Greg could handle McKenna as well as he did Tucker Mifflin.
"Shoes aren't what your aunt and uncle have in common. Just like I don't have a lot of pajamas but Princess Tawny does." He calmly kept coloring. "It's not always the collection that brings two people together."
"What do my aunt and uncle have in common?" McKenna asked as she picked up her blue crayon.
Since the real answer was out of the question he opted for an alternative. "Sometimes it's the love of a certain food. Your aunt and uncle both like Chinese food, and Princess Tawny and I…we both like Krispy Kreme donuts." Then it was time for the deflection. "All this talk about food is making me hungry. Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Does your mom have snacks?"
"She made oatmeal cookies this morning!" McKenna jumped up and ran for the kitchen. "Be right back!"
Grissom began clapping. "Bravo. I think I may be coming to you for parenting lessons."
Greg laughed while coloring. "The Master Criminalist turns to the Master Bullshit Artist."
Snapping out of his trance, Sean declared, "Bad word!"
"Your mom isn't here, Dude. See…you pull that in front of your brother's friends and they'll mock you for being a priss." As he colored in the pretty pink flowers surrounding Snow White he instructed, "You've got to get a little more bad-ass if you want to survive middle school. You aren't part Scandinavian by any chance?"
"I'm Irish and Scottish."
Greg glanced over at Grissom, Then, as if it were a completely logical assumption, he said, "Well, then he needs to watch Braveheart."
Grissom shook his head at the secret tutelage afoot.
"I need to watch The Shining too," Sean added even though Uncle Nick told him no way.
"I own that also." Greg grinned. "We'll have a double feature."
"I'd love that!"
Desert Springs Hospital
9:31 a.m.
As Jim sat holding his sleeping daughter's hand his love flowed and he was transported back to a simpler time. A time when Ellie was five years old and a simple fairy tale read at bedtime would thrill her, and leave her thinking he was the best father in the world. But time marches on, and little girls grow up to realize their father's aren't heroes like the men in the stories. And fathers realize their little girls don't always turn out to be princesses or college students…or good girls.
Reaching out, Jim smoothed a palm over his daughter's matted hair. She needed a shower and so much more. "Ellie…" He said in a whisper when he saw her eyelids flicker. "Sweetheart…you're in the hospital."
"Dad…" She answered the voice. "It hurts."
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed he caressed her bruised cheek. "You have two broken ribs and they emptied your stomach. You'll be okay."
"I tried to fight…" Weakly she lifted her trembling hand to cover his, which she felt on her cheek. "Is your offer…" Her mouth dry she paused.
"My offer is still good, Sweetheart." He nodded in case she couldn't hear him. "As soon as you can leave here, I'll take you where you need to be. We'll tackle this, Ellie. Now that I've got you back…I'm not giving up and I'm not letting you give up either." He saw she was fighting to stay awake. "You rest now." Leaning forward he brushed a kiss over the bruise on her cheek. "We'll talk later. I love you, Sweetheart."
"Thank you…" Her lids fluttered closed. "…Daddy."
Nodding, Jim bit back his tears.
Author's Notes:
Next Chapter: Getting It Back - Part 6
Teaser: The life lessons continue...
Posting: Wednesday
Thanks for reading and foryour comments. If you had any favorite parts in this chapter and want to share your thoughts that would be great, thanks.
Maggs