A/N: I've posted 2 chapters at once…33 and 34 (because it was over 12,000 words as one).
Laws of Motion – Book 1
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT
Chapter 33
September 3, 2005
Ralph's Grocery Store
4:40 p.m.
On the verge of hurling, Greg stood in aisle five of the store and with a trembling hand brought his cell to his ear. Anxiously waiting for Nick to answer, he paced by the large selection of stomach acid products and attempted to regulate his breathing.
"Hey! Riddle me this, Chuckles…what kind of tree is chocolate made from?"
"Cacao."
"Ugh…hold on a sec…"
Holding his head Greg started pacing again.
"Okay, I'm on the patio so they can't hear me…or make fun of me. Spell cocoa."
The odd questions were a nice distraction. "C-O-C-O-A. You left off the A and he reamed you, right?"
"Yeah."
Much to his surprise Greg found himself laughing along with Nick. "Here's the thing…Coco without the A is a stripper name as well as the name of a woman's perfume. It's an understandable mistake considering your history with babes…and your pain meds are probably making you a little slow."
"True, but I have to tell you, Buddy…it sucks looking like a fool in front of Hodges."
"Trust me, I can empathize." Greg shuddered as the embarrassing memory assaulted him…
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Hodges recounted the pathetic details, "Okay, Sanders…we were sitting on the couch in my apartment. You finished your King of Pain loser solo with flair, polished off your bottle of tequila, and then you started rambling about some Becca chick…that she didn't know what she was talking about, that she didn't know the mistake she made, and then…" He cringed. "You planted one on me."
"OH!" Greg frantically pointed at Hodges. "I remember now! OH!" He enjoyed the euphoric effects of the Eureka moment. "I was proving I wasn't gay by kissing you and confirming it didn't do anything for me. Which it didn't."
Moving beyond the squick of the memory, Greg focused on the realization that Tawny and his mother were right about Becca. For fifteen years she had been a great friend but she had also been one who tormented him, screwed with his mind, filled him with self-doubt, and thrust him into various states of confusion. And yet, after each friendship-ending episode, Becca managed to manipulate her way back into his life. Dr. Myers had counseled Greg that Becca only managed to do so because he let her…and she had successfully done it again that morning…because he let her.
There, in aisle five of Ralph's on the day he was to get engaged to a woman who was the antithesis of Becca, Greg closed his eyes and heard a voice in his head say…just because Becca befriended you when you were planning to kill yourself again, doesn't me she owns your life fifteen years later…and just because your mother saved your life once, doesn't give her the right to control your life now.
"Greggo! Where'd you go, Man?" Nick prodded.
"Uh…" Remembering why he called Nick, Greg pleaded, "I need your help, Bro. I need you to tell me how you walked onto the football field to play in front of all those people without being nervous."
"What the hell makes you think I wasn't nervous every time I walked on the field?" Nick gave an easy laugh. "Are you kidding? I was scared shitless that I was going to mess up and look like a fool in front of my team, family, friends, alum and who knows how many people on TV. Hell…I'd get the runs for days prior to a game, and I swallowed antacids the entire season."
"Okay, that just made things substantially worse, thanks." Staring at the shelves of antacid tablets, Greg gripped his stomach and leaned against a display of hemorrhoid cream. "What if I make a total ass of myself on stage? I'm dying here…I can't even think about walking up there without bile rising, so how the hell am I going to do it later!"
"Sounds like a real bad case of performance anxiety."
"Duh! I don't need a diagnosis! I need a solution!" With the back of his hand he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "Sorry…uh…can tell me what you did before a big game to get you psyched up?"
"I did a hundred push ups, two hundred crunches, and punched my heavy bag for thirty minutes straight to feel powerful."
Greg's brows knitted. "Well, that will definitely solve my problem, because I'll be dead after doing all that!"
"I was yankin' your chain, Bro…if I did all that before a game I would have been too tired to play. Here's the trick…visualization." In a nostalgic tone he coached, "Before games I'd visualize running for the end zone, being in the right place at the right time, jumping higher than I ever had, feeling the ball hit my hands, gripping it stronger than ever before, planting my feet firmly on the field…and then the glory…the roar of the crowd as I heard the word 'touchdown' blasting in my head."
"Visualization…" Greg forced himself to breathe slower.
"In your case you'll want to visualize the whole proposal, see yourself doing everything right…taking the stage relaxed, hearing your voice loud and confident, knowing the words to the song, presenting the ring, and then…the glory…the ring sparkling on Tawny's finger and her happiness. Repeat the visual as many times as you can before you take the stage tonight."
"Okay," Greg gulped as he opened his eyes. "Visualize success…got it."
"Great! Now here's another trick if you get overwhelmed by the crowd when you take the stage…block everyone watching you…well, everyone but Tawny in your case. Pretend you have a giant eraser and make them all disappear until it's just you and Tawny. See only her…and sing directly to her like no one else is watching."
"Block everyone…got it."
"Then, if you're feeling scared, do some channeling to find power. In my case, I liked to channel all the animosity I had for my brother. It helped that I knew he was watching me too…and the couple of games he missed, I just pretended he was watching on TV. I'd think about something he did to piss me off, a name he called me, or some arrogant shit he talked. I'd let it all build inside me like a giant boiling vat of oil and then when I took the field, I used it as fuel to light myself on fire and explode."
"Interesting choice of example," Greg remarked while practically ripping out his hair. "…I mean considering your brother slept with Tawny on multiple occasions before soliciting her for prostitution, and since I have an intense fear of fire from almost dying in an explosion…yeah, I really didn't need to be reminded of any of that right now. Prior to that one you were on a roll though."
"Damn…I am a little slow on the uptake today. Here…give me another chance." Nick cleared his throat and rephrased. "Think of someone who told you that you weren't good enough. Picture that person out there watching you and say to yourself, 'I'm going to perform better than I ever have in my life just to prove to the jerk they don't know what they're talking about. Take the stage with something to prove. Don't go up there content with just doing okay…go up there determined to kick ass!"
"Cop an 'I've got something to prove/kick-ass' attitude…got it."
"And lastly, remember this…if you do fumble, it's not going to make a difference to the people who really care about you." Then he laughed, "Seriously, Greggo, if you go up there, faint, hit the ground unconscious and let the ring tumble out of your hand onto the stage so Tawny has to pick it up and put it on before scraping your ass off the floor…she'll still be thrilled. My proposal was nothing like I planned, hell…I was supposed to be in Paris but we ended up in Dallas in my parents' stable and the only ambiance was the aroma of horse shit and a soundtrack of whinnies, but in that final moment, it was perfect…."
"I know we've only been together a few months, and some people might not think that's enough time, but I can't wait another day…another hour. Hell, I can't wait another minute!" Releasing Carrie's hands, Nick dove into his pocket for the ring.
"You really are…"
"I can't wait another second!" Brimming with confidence, Nick took her left hand. "Carrie Blake, I love you with all my heart and you will make me the happiest man alive if you'll agree to marry me, and spend the rest of your life with me. Please say yes."
"YES!" She shouted while throwing her arms around his neck and tackling him against the horse blankets.
"And, Greggo…" Changing from coach to friend he shared, "…while the proposal was a fantastic moment in my life, I have to be honest, there have been a bunch of moments since then that rocked my world even more, so don't think this one moment will be your only chance to feel the glory. The proposal should be romantic and fun and something you'll remember forever but, it's not the be all and end all of your relationship…it's really just a starting point. So, if you do mess up, the good news is you'll get plenty of other chances to be her Prince Charming, okay?"
"Okay." Breathing a little easier, Greg nodded. "Thanks, Bro."
"Hey…I'm just practicing my role as your Best Man, it's my duty to keep the Groom calm."
"Speaking of that…when do you think you'll be feeling well enough for a wedding and when will I be able to have a couple of days off? Because I'm sure my mom and Tawny will want to book the date as soon as possible."
"Other than picking you up if you pass out, I should be able to fulfill all required Best Man duties in three weeks and don't you worry, I'll get you the time off. You've been out on mandated medical and that doesn't count against your personal time."
"I really appreciate the pep talk" Glancing at his watch Greg sighed, "Okay…it's time for me to head back and get ready for the night."
"Hey, if you're not too caught up in the excitement afterwards, call us and let us know how it went. Carrie and I will be here, and Gris and Sara are coming over…I'm sure they'll want to hear the good news too."
Grissom's Mercedes
4:45 p.m.
"I really hafta go!" shrieked McKenna as she squirmed against the fine leather and pounded Ryan in the arm with her tiny fist. "I told you I wasn't faking!"
"There's a McDonald's not too far from here," Gil assured the frantic girl while stepping on the gas. "We can stop there."
"Don't speed," Sara chided. "If we have a fender-bender she'll definitely pee."
Gil's brows knitted. "In all the years we've driven together, you've never been a bossy passenger before, Sara."
"We've never had three kids in the backseat before." Pointing to her abdomen she also scolded, "And let's not forget we have our own precious cargo along for the ride. Kids change everything…we're not just responsible for our own asses anymore."
"Bad word!" Ryan gladly busted the irresponsible adult. "Need I remind you, Mrs. Grissom, there are impressionable youths on board?"
Gil couldn't hide his amusement.
When she saw her husband laughing at her Sara grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder, and twisted open the cap and smirked. "McKenna, Sweetie…would you like a cold drink?"
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
4:47 p.m.
As Carrie watched Celeste expertly sniff the glass of 2002 Chimney Rock Cabernet Sauvignon she curiously asked, "What do you think of the aroma, Neighbor?" She had just found out that Celeste had also grown up in wine country only an hour from where she was raised.
"Hints of plums and blackberries…definitely some vanilla." Celeste paused for another discerning whiff. "Clove?"
"Oooh, you're good," Carrie praised while she read the notes that came with the fifty-four dollar reserve bottle her father had given her during his visit the previous weekend. "Ha!" Shaking with laughter she clutched the paper to her chest. "You missed one, and it's hilarious."
"Allow me." Hodges reached for the glass and let his sensitive nose go to work. "Ha!"
"Give me that." Nick snatched it from his opponents hand and took a big sniff. "Hmm…there's definitely some grapes in there," he joked. "Smells nice, but I'll be sticking to my fake beer and Vicodin thanks."
Snuggling up to her man on the couch Carrie teasingly whispered in his ear, "I'll give you a hint…it ends in the letter A."
Realizing he'd be saddled for the cocoa error for years to come Nick mumbled, "Oh, shit."
"That ends in T," Hodges was quick to point out. "Which is what turn starts with." He handed over the die. "That time the answer really was cocoa."
Ignoring the annoying guest, Nick moved four and readied for his history question. "Too bad this isn't for a pie because history is a cake walk for me."
"Who said the Equal Rights Amendment would encourage women to 'leave their husbands, kill their children' and 'practice witchcraft?"
Carrie and Celeste simultaneously groaned and realized they were on the same side of the political party line.
Nick quickly replied, "An idiot, but I suppose you're looking for a name."
"Yep." Hodges couldn't wait for the wrong guess.
"Good thing I know the name too…Pat Robertson." Nick slipped his arm around Carrie and reclined on the couch. "With five liberal sisters, a mother who knows Hilary Clinton's cell phone number, and two Texas Republican males sharing my family dinner table…this independent boy remembers the heated debate over that comment well."
Without considering his audience, Hodges remarked, "Pat Robertson is one man, he isn't the entire Republican Party."
"Oh! Oh!" But before Carrie could explode over the comment, Nick kissed her, and she heard Celeste frantically yell…
"You're a Republican, David!"
"Yes."
Stunned by the question Carrie pushed Nick away and blasted her new friend, "I can see forgetting to ask if he wanted kids because you assumed he did, but you didn't ask him his political views before you married him! And what kind of Republican are you, Hodges if you use contraception so you don't want to bring babies into the world!"
"Holy hell, here we go." Having been traumatized by family arguments over politics his whole life Nick sighed, "Hodges, you idiot…you shoulda said Independent."
The Sanders Home
4:49 p.m.
With a shaky hand, Greg quietly knocked on his parents' bedroom door and readied to assert himself.
"Come in," Bev sang out and when she saw her son walk through the door she hurried over. "You look sick. Are you sick? You can't be sick."
"I'm not sick…I'm nervous." Greg saw his father emerge from the bathroom cinching his white spa robe.
"I'll help you out, Son…she's definitely going to say yes."
"I know that, Dad." Greg exhaled sharply as he took a seat on the bed's edge. "Mom…I hope you won't be too disappointed but…"
"No," Bev firmly answered. "No way! Not a chance in hell, Gregory!"
"I didn't even…"
Incensed, she barked, "You're not backing out hours before you're set to take the stage!"
Scott took a seat next to his son and kept his mouth shut as his wife went off.
"This whole thing was your idea, not mine. I put a lot of work into making the arrangements and I've spent a nice sum of money to ensure it's wonderful…and Tawny deserves something wonderful after putting up with Becca's shenanigans…and yours!" Marching back and forth across the room she huffed, "And this isn't only about you. My students gave up personal time to rehearse because they were promised a chance to perform in front of club members, some of whom are well connected in the entertainment business. Lastly…I'm practicing tough love now, remember? You made a commitment to do something and I'm not letting you take the easy way out just because you're scared. So buck up and be prepared to face the music!"
"Mom!" Greg shouted. "Can you please listen to what I have to say!" When he saw her cross her arms and stare quietly at him, he continued, "Before you jumped down my throat I was about to say…would you be disappointed if I didn't wear the special tie you bought me for tonight? It's really nice and I know it cost a lot of money but, I found one that compliments Tawny's fuchsia dress and want to wear it."
"Oh." Bev relaxed her stance. "Sure, Honey…you can wear my tie another time. It will make a nice court tie for work."
Scott patted his boy on the back. "Nice job asserting yourself."
"Thanks, Dad." Greg stood up and smiled at his mother, "And, Mom…there's something else I need to tell you." Placing his hand on her shoulder he broke the news. "When I return to Vegas…Mr. Peebles is coming with me."
McDonald's
5:08 p.m.
"Come on, McKenna." In a hurry to return to the car to use her anti-bacterial wipes, Sara took the mesmerized little girl's hand. "What are you staring at?"
The girl pointed her tiny index finger towards the large menu with pictures. "Chicken nuggets." With wide eyes she turned her gaze to her babysitter. "I had them at a friend's house once. They're yummy. We not allowed to have them at home."
"Right…no meat or fried food in your mom's kitchen."
"Sara?" Gil called as he walked over. "I was getting worried. I thought maybe you had a panic attack trying to use the germy bathroom."
"Funny."
"Pleeeeeeease can I get nuggets," McKenna asked as she tugged on Sara's jeans. "Pleeeeeeease."
Next Ryan came through the door. "Is she hounding you for nuggets?"
"Yep," the dutiful sister answered. "Just like you told me to, Bro!"
"Why did Sean stay in the car?" Gil inquired while peering out the window.
"Duh…" Ryan remarked while salivating over the aroma of beef in the air. "You told him to wait in the car. If you told him to shave his head, wear a necklace made out of dead crickets, and dance under a full moon, he'd do that too."
When Gil saw Sean glance his way he opened the door and yelled, "Come in…we're getting some food."
"Yay! We can have bad fried meat!" McKenna raced to the counter.
Looking around the place Sara's stomach flipped. Not only were people chomping on ground beef, the tables looked sticky and so did every barefoot child running around the germ-infested play area. "We need to eat in the car."
"Are you crazy?" Gil blurted as he joined McKenna at the counter. "I'm not letting three kids eat greasy food in my pristine Mercedes."
Focused on her prize McKenna spoke loudly to the cashier. "Nuggets please! Lots of them. Do I get a toy too?" she asked while pointing to the display of Disney character toys.
"Only if your Daddy buys you a happy meal," the exhausted woman droned before glancing at her watch for the hundredth time.
"He's not my Daddy. My Daddy doesn't even know we're here." McKenna eagerly volunteered information loud enough for the cashier, counter workers and surrounding customers to hear, "He's my brother's best friend. They go to farms to watch bugs eat rotting bodies, sometimes they tear apart dead pigeons they find in the backyard, and they race cockroaches too."
Shaking her head Sara watched to see if the woman grabbed a phone to call child protective services.
"Uh…" Gil slapped a twenty dollar bill on the counter. "We'll take everything to go."
Becca's House
5:19 p.m.
While Shanna unloaded the take out Chinese onto the kitchen counter, Becca mindlessly stirred her Cosmopolitan. "He really shouted all that through a megaphone to everyone at the club pool?"
"Yup," Shanna confirmed while opening a box of pot stickers. "And then he kissed her like he was going off to war."
Glancing up from her drink Becca asked, "Do you think the Amish have some sort of secret hypnotic power? I mean…Mormons have secret ceremonies, right? Maybe the Amish take it a step further…maybe they…"
"Becks…" Shanna filled her friend's half-empty glass. "I think you're looking for a complicated answer when it's really very simple. He loves her."
"But why?" she whined. "Looks aside, what does she have to offer him?"
"Her ovaries apparently."
"Oh!" Becca jumped from her chair. "That's it! You said that Hoj said Tawny was told she could never have children naturally, right!"
"Yeah, but…."
"Hoj didn't want to have kids! Don't you see…he never thought she'd get pregnant! That's what he meant earlier when he told me that he manipulated and trapped Tawny! He told her that he wanted kids when he really didn't, and by not using something…he believes he trapped her."
"But how do you explain the excitement announcing it at the club?"
Becca relaxed and informed her deluded friend, "That was all an act by the pool because she was excited and he felt guilty and was trying to make her think he was happy too. Trust me…Hoj can front with the best of them." A smile erupting on her face Becca said, "I bet he's desperate to get out of the situation."
After a sip Shanna laughed, "What…are you gonna push blondie down the stairs now since you've already tried all the other tricks you learned on All My Children?"
"I'm desperate, not evil." Becca plopped onto her stool. "I couldn't hurt an innocent baby. Hmm…" She pondered the problem aloud, "Maybe…hmm…maybe, Hoj doesn't think he can leave because his father would think he's irresponsible for not taking care of Tawny." She smacked the counter. "I've got it! I'll offer Farm Girl a big fat check to get lost! Then Hoj won't feel guilty that she's destitute because she'll be rolling in dough."
"Yeah? Well, you better do it soon because you said Hoj was proposing this weekend, and Saturday night is traditionally the night for romance."
"I'll need to draw up a contract to go with the check too!" she yelled while running out of the room for her office. "Yes!"
The Sanders Home
5:24 p.m.
Alone in the guestroom wearing her favorite pink satin robe and preparing for the evening, Tawny stood in front of the mirror practicing her proposal reply. "Yes," she shyly said while holding out her left hand. "Yes!" she squealed while frantically flapping her left hand.
"I told her the ass is mine!" Greg shouted as he whipped open the guestroom door.
Playing along with her man Tawny said, "Did you hear that, Mr. Peebles…we don't have to smuggle you out of here because Greg finally found the courage to tell his Mommy he wanted control of his own ass."
Greg grabbed the stuffed animal from the closet and mocked Mr. Peebles's voice while clapping the donkey's front legs together. "Yay! I've always wanted to gamble and booze all night in Vegas! I have this fantasy…" He rested the donkey on Tawny's shoulder and made it speak in her ear. "I dream of meeting a beautiful piece of ass one night and I go to her place and she falls madly in love with me." Changing back to his normal voice Greg counseled his friend. "I have some unused condoms for you to take along because..."
"Chuckles…" Tawny took Mr. Peebles and set him on the dresser. "Let's stop talking to the donkey just for tonight." Slipping her arms around Greg's waist she murmured, "I've got this whole Greg Sanders, Romantic Superstar thing going on in my head and watching you play the part of an ass is buzz kill."
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
5:25 p.m.
When the political feud brought Trivial Pursuit to a grinding halt, Nick sat back and enjoyed Kick-Ass Carrie kicking Hodges's ass while gulping his fiancée's glass of cocoa-laced wine.
"Do you know what else Pat Robertson said?" Carrie blasted, "He said, there was nothing in the Constitution to back the concept about separation of church and state! Hello! And he said this quote…ugh…'I know this is painful for the ladies to hear, but if you get married, you have accepted the headship of a man, your husband.'" Turning her eyes for a moment she asked, "Do you agree with that, Nicky?"
"Hell no!" Nick raised an empty wine glass and upped his enthusiasm. "I'm all about equality, Baby! And you know I'm not just sayin' this to get laid because I'm not allowed to have sex for another week…which is real unfortunate considering how turned on I get when you're in pit bull mode. And I can't believe I just said all that in front of company."
Having reached his limit Hodges shouted, "I'm not a Pat Robertson supporter! How could I be? I'm an Agnostic! I don't even acknowledge secular Christmas because I can't stand all the merriness and commercialism shoved in my face."
Nick tilted his head, "Explains why I didn't get anything the year you were my Secret Santa."
In a panic Hodges asked, "Are you going to hold that against me on Evaluation Day?"
"Can't…different eval period."
Hodges breathed a little easier knowing he'd have a job after he lost his wife and personal life.
Despondency seizing her, Celeste sank deeper into her chair. "I can't believe I'm married to a kid-hating Republican who loathes Christmas when I'm a child-loving Democrat who had to rent a storage unit because I didn't have enough closet space to store my six-foot tall nutcrackers and life-size animated Santa and Mrs. Claus."
"All hope's not lost!" Carrie enthused, trying to help the heartbroken woman. "You still have the Six Million Dollar Man and cream soda!"
"Cream soda is gross, but I loved the Six Million Dollar Man as a kid," Nick announced while recalling a scene from his youth. "I'd go all over the ranch pretending I was the bionic man…making the cool noise and…" The ring of the doorbell stopped the overshare. "I'll get it!" Feeling no pain or shame after his last dose of meds, Nick made bionic action noise and headed for the door in slow motion. "How's this workin' for you Carrie?"
"About as well as the facial hair was, Nicky," she teased while thrilled he was the most relaxed she'd seen him since the Shelly stress hit.
"Uncle Nick!" Sean burst through the open door with the Grissoms, Ryan, and McKenna trailing behind. "I went to the body farm and didn't vomit! And look at this…" He produced the ALS. "Dr. Grissom gave it to me for my birthday."
Hodges immediately asked, "Did Grissom misappropriate lab resources?"
"Why are you here?" Sara deadpanned upon hearing the accusation. Then she saw the giant football gift basket with Hodges's name in giant letters on the card. "Sucking up to your new boss before he even returns to the lab? Have you no shame?"
"Uncle Nicky!" McKenna rushed him with open arms, but her aunt intercepted. "Hey!"
"Remember, Sweetie…he has an owie and you'll hurt him if you squeeze too hard."
Nick took the little girl's hand. "Come sit with me on the couch. You can share whatever you have in that McDonald's bag with me and meet a weird man."
"More weird than Mr. Grissom?" McKenna innocently inquired.
Grinning as he gently pulled his almost-niece on his lap Nick said, "It's a tie actually…but they're different kinds of weird."
"May I use your restroom, Carrie?" Grissom politely inquired as he showed his hands. "I've been picking greasy French fries off my back seat."
"Right this way…" Carrie started down the hall. "It seems odd to think you've never been here, but you haven't."
"I get that a lot."
While the grown ups chatted, Sean donned tinted glasses and turned on the ALS. "Let's start looking for sweat stains like Dr. Grissom told me to," the curious boy whispered. "Here…" He handed over the second pair of glasses.
"This is cool…I can handle the detective part of being a science geek." With his glasses in place Ryan changed to a mysterious tone. "Let's investigate."
As Sara settled on the loveseat she stared at the woman sniffling in the corner of the room. "Who is that?"
"My wife," Hodges replied. "She's uh…allergic to Nick's rancid cologne. That's why her eyes are watering."
"What!" Nick snapped in mid chomp of a chicken nugget. "Your wife is crying because she's married to an Anti-Christmas child-hating Republican."
"Wow…Hodges," Sara stared at her co-worker. "That's quite an unusual combo." When she saw her husband emerge from the hallway Sara patted the open space on the loveseat. "You've got to hear this…"
"Dr. Grissom! I found something!" Sean exclaimed with a hefty dose of pride. "Over here, on the back of the couch! Lots of sweat!"
When she saw the boys using the ALS, Sara's blood boiled. "No…you didn't. I can't believe you! You told him to go on a protein hunt here? Carrie is his aunt! You really are a dirty old man."
"Relax…I told him he was looking for sweat," Gil casually whispered while kissing his wife's cheek. Then he smirked at Nick. "It's a little poolhouse payback. We're still waiting for that replacement couch cushion because it's on backorder."
"Oh…" Sara's face lit up. "In that case…let's check it out."
"Carrie's gonna flip." Nick let his laughter flow the CSIs and the CSI wannabes examined the evidence. "Hey, Carr!" While he was waiting for her to approach, Nick remembered the playful memory of the night before their trip to Flagstaff, when he had just busted Carrie about the Girl Chat transcript…
"By the way, my next trip activity choice is role-play." Carrie announced while watching Nick shuck his clothes in the middle of the living room.
Knowing she was enjoying the view Nick stood still. "Well…you're going to have to remind me to write that down, because I'm a little preoccupied right now."
Leaning over the back of the couch she let her eyes drift lower. "I'll say."
"Do me a favor, Roxie..." He began strolling around the sofa to meet her. "…hold that position."
"Check it out, girlfriend." Pointing to the sofa Sara said, "You're a little sloppy when you exercise at home. It would appear you did some vigorous sweating over here at some point."
Nick prompted his befuddled fiancée. "Remember number three?" He pointed to the back of the couch. "They found evidence of sweat."
"You mean? Oh, God!" Carrie shrieked when she realized why Gil and Sara were laughing their asses off. "I bought the couch used!"
Nick burst out laughing as Grissom instructed Sean to point the light at the carpet directly below the 'sweat stain' on the back of the couch. "Darlin' you walked right into that one. Here comes the 'A Ha!' moment."
A second later Grissom copped a lawyerly tone, "Ms. Blake…did you buy the carpet used as well?"
"I need to go out front and wait for the pizza!" Carrie shouted as she grabbed an open bottle of wine and rushed the door with fire-red cheeks.
The Sanders Home
5:45 p.m.
His stomach churning, his cheeks flushed, and his palms dripping with sweat, Greg desperately tried to knot his fuchsia and pink striped tie but failed every time.
"Need some help?" Tawny sweetly inquired as she emerged from the bathroom dressed for a dreamy night.
"Whoa…"
Her lips fanning into a radiant smile Tawny slowly turned. "So..." She demurely smoothed her hands over the strapless fuchsia silk dress. "Do you like it?"
"It's perfect…elegant. You look phenomenal. I've never seen your hair that way before…I love it." Her locks were curled in gentle tendrils, giving her a delicate femininity that was a far cry from the sex-oozing topless girl bathed in glitter he met at Tweeters. "Wow." With his undone tie flopping around his neck Greg approached and took Tawny's hands. "I…" Before he got out the next word, Tawny was frantically frisking him. "What are you…oh…you're checking to see if I'm packing…a diamond ring."
"Busted. And you look quite handsome in a black pinstripe www.msmaggs/gregfancy.jpg suit." Tugging the tie off his neck, she put it around hers and quickly knotted it. "I bet your Mommy has the ring in her purse, am I right?"
"You know it," he confirmed while bending so she could slip the tie over his head. "You know what I was thinking about while you were getting ready?"
"Tell me." Tenderly she adjusted the tie while Greg spoke with a quiver in his voice.
"I was remembering how scared I was when I was running your pregnancy test at the lab. Did I ever tell you I vomited twice after hearing the results?"
"No." Slipping her arms around his waist Tawny whispered, "I remember you holding me as we sat in your car…your whole body was shaking and your heart was pounding so hard I thought it would come out of your chest."
"We've come a long way," Greg murmured as he initiated an Eskimo kiss. "I'm not scared anymore."
Gliding her hands up his back she whispered, "Then why is your body shaking and your heart thumping?"
"Anticipation," he answered as he grazed a kiss over her lips.
Eyes closed, hearts pounding they drifted deeper into the kiss.
"Kids!" Scott called though the closed door.
Greg and Tawny snapped out of the moment like two errant children and broke into delicious smiles.
"It's time to go."
"It's time." Tawny gushed with excitement when Greg grabbed her hand. "I'm so glad the wait is over."
Nick and Carrie's Apartment
6:01 p.m.
"The pizza's still not here?" Nick impatiently asked Carrie who was sitting on the steps with her bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Holding his side he gingerly took a seat next to her.
"I forgot to order it," she confessed while handing over the empty bottle. "I was talking to Tawny and got so caught up in the excitement of the proposal, I forgot you asked…I didn't remember until I was out here, but then I was too mortified to go back inside."
"Aww…come on now." Nick cracked a smile. "They wouldn't tease you if they didn't feel close to you, Darlin'. It was a payback joke for us foolin' around in their poolhouse." Tossing his arm around her he pulled her close. "It's not like they didn't know we made love, it was the focus of girl chat, remember?"
Resting her head on his shoulder she guiltily whispered, "Speaking of girl chat…I told Tawny how and when Greg was going to pop the question. I'm really sorry. But in my defense…you didn't say not to tell her."
"Telling her was what Greg was counting on Darlin'."
"Huh?"
"It was a set up. He asked me to tell you the lie, knowing that you'd call Tawny and if offered the chance to find out she'd take it."
"That's so sneaky!" she blasted.
"Excuse me, Roxie?" He laughed in her face. "You're the one who called Tawny on the sly and spilled the beans, but I'm sneaky?"
"Ugh…when you put it that way." She ran her fingers through her hair and giggled, "I'm a little tipsy."
"I noticed." Flipping open his cell, Nick found the pizzeria number on speed dial. "Darlin'… you had an emotional week and deserve a break."
Laughing at herself Carrie said, "At the risk of sounding like a Pat Robertson groupie, I'll confess that every once in a while I really do enjoy taking the night off and letting my man take care of me."
"I'll make you a deal…" After tucking Carrie's curly brown hair behind her ear so he could see her beautiful smile Nick said, "I won't tell my mom and my sisters you said that, if you don't tell your Dad and your brother that I can be a needy little boy who cries sometimes."
"Deal."
To seal it, Nick kissed the cheek of the woman who had worried about him and had cared for him non-stop for a week. "Now you go ahead and take the night off, Sweetheart…" Smiling, he hit send to call the pizzeria. "I've got things under control."
Wildfire Country Club
6:14 p.m.
As soon as Greg saw the elaborate stage set up on the club's lawn his emotions spiraled out of control. "Mom…" He grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. "That stage looks much bigger than the stage the club had for the last party."
"Sweetheart…" Bev gave her panicked son's hand a squeeze. "It's the same stage set up every time on the same area of lawn. You want to run through the plan again?"
"Uh…" When he saw Tawny wave at him while chatting with Joyce, Greg's heart rate slowed. "No…I've got it." Calm again, he took a cleansing breath.
Since they were alone, Bev seized the opportunity to fill her son in on a surprise detail. "There is one more little thing I did to make the whole thing extra special."
"Oh God." Greg clutched his stomach. "Please don't tell me you're broadcasting it on TV."
"What? No. Nothing that stressful." She got a good laugh. "It's just a little fun thing at the very end to make things extra special." Leaning in she whispered, "But I wanted to warn you because…"
Standing with Joyce and Robbie, Tawny saw their mouths moving but didn't hear a thing they were saying. Her mind was too busy wandering as she glanced about trying to figure out which path Greg would take her down to quietly pop the question.
"Are you crazy, Mom!" Greg blasted as he gripped his hair. "As if I'm not freaked out enough already! I mean…why not get some giant screens and project the image of Tucker Mifflin pointing a gun at me while you're at it?"
"Think of it like desensitization therapy, Sweetie." She lovingly caressed his flushed cheek. "Don't you think your therapist would like the idea?"
"Uh…no! She'd suggest I work on my fear of explosives on a less hectic night!"
"Pyrotechnics, not explosives," Bev cheerily and calmly corrected. "You kiss her at the end of your performance, then some stationary ones, the kind used in rock concerts, pop at the back of the stage and then four are launched to burst in the sky above you, followed by a little finale. Trust me…she'll be blown away."
"Blown…away?" He gaped while entertaining thoughts of snatching her ring-hiding purse, grabbing Tawny and running for the door.
When Scott saw Greg losing control he intervened. "Is there a problem?"
"Your wife is nuts!" Greg snapped as he fought to cling to his sanity. "She thinks the proposal will be much nicer if I pee in my pants at the end!" When Greg saw his father's confused expression he realized it would be a surprise to him as well. "She arranged for pyrotechnics at the back and over the stage!"
"You what?" Dumbfounded, Scott blasted his wife. "He couldn't even open his presents in front of the crackling fireplace last year. Are you insane?"
"Talk about role reversal," Bev remarked. "Now I'm the one pushing him while you're going easy. There's always fireworks at the end of the party," Bev reminded her men.
"Yes, and I planned to enjoy them from afar," Greg heatedly explained while his stomach knotted. "Not be next to or under them!"
"Okay…okay. I made a mistake," Bev finally admitted. "I'll speak with the crew and cancel."
"Hey!" Tawny bounded over giddy and grabbed Greg's hand. "Joyce just said there's always fireworks at the end of the party. I love fireworks! So did my dad! He would drive me four counties away if there was going to be some. Can this night possibly get any better!"
Bev burst into a smile. "I had a feeling you liked them."
Greg hung his head.
"Oh!" Realizing her error Tawny backpedaled. "Sorry, Sweetie, I totally forgot about your fear of explosives. I didn't mean to be insensitive. We don't have to be anywhere near them."
Hearing the sincerity in Tawny's voice and knowing she understood him when his mother didn't, Greg felt a wave of confidence wash over him. "Maybe tonight's the night I get over that fear, Princess." Wanting desperately to give Tawny something extra special he now knew she'd love, Greg glanced over at his mother. "Come what may…let the sparks fly."
Continued in 34 which is already posted...