Author's Notes: Lots and lots of thanks and cyber-hugs to everyone still reading. Cyber-kisses to those who have reviewed. Enjoy this chapter;)
Letting Go
by Kristen Elizabeth
But this is Christmas, yes Christmas, my dear
The time of year to be with the ones you love
So, won't you tell me you'll never more roam
Christmas and New Year's will find you home
There'll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain
And I'll be happy, happy once again
Please come home for Christmas
- Lonestar
Dear Nick,
Guess who's coming to Vegas?
It's official. I'll be arriving at McCarran on December 8th at 10:05 p.m., British Airways, flight 443. Let me make this clear. You really don't have to pick me up. I can call a cab. But if you wanted to meet me there, I guess it wouldn't be so bad. Still, I'm getting a hotel room, so you don't even have to offer your couch. It'll just be easier, trust me.
Feel free to share this news with anyone who might be interested. And I'll see you very soon.
Hugs, Sara
PS: Happy Thanksgiving.
The first thing she saw as she emerged from the gate was the banner.
"Oh god," she murmured under her breath. After twelve hours on two different planes with a two hour layover in Chicago, Sara was not prepared for a welcoming committee.
But there they were. Through the crowd, she could see their familiar faces. And despite her exhaustion, she could only smile.
Greg and Warrick held up either side of the banner which announced, in large black letters, 'WELCOME HOME, SARA!' with Catherine and Nick flanking them.
"There she is!" Greg announced, nearly dropping his end. "Hey, Sara!"
Shaking her head, she weaved her way through the people. She stopped just in front of them and readjusted the strap of her carry-on, unsure of what to do next. This sort of airport greeting only happened in books and movies. Not in real life. And certainly not to her. "Hey guys," she said. "It's me."
Greg's end of the banner fluttered the ground as he threw his arms around her. Pulling back a second later, he examined her with a critical eye. "You're too thin. What did they feed you over there?"
"Thank you, Grandma Sanders."
Warrick embraced her next, the banner all but forgotten. "Hey girl. Good to have you back."
"It's good to be back." It was only half a lie; it didn't really count.
Catherine hugged her awkwardly. "I like your hair," she said. "I never thought I'd see it long."
"Five months without a haircut. It's always grown fast." Sara replied. Gathered in a ponytail at the back of her head, her hair trailed down between her shoulder blades. "I had the ends trimmed in London, but I decided to keep the…"
"Girly talk later!" Nick declared. He pulled Sara into a tight hug, kissing the side of her cheek. "Missed you," he told her softly. "A lot."
She'd been fighting her emotions but in Nick's brotherly embrace, it was impossible to keep up the pretense that it was no big deal seeing them all again. "I missed you, too," she whispered. It suddenly dawned on her who was absent from the greeting party. "All of you." Drawing back, she looked Nick straight in the eye.
She didn't have to ask anything; her eyes said it all. "He took some vacation time," Nick told her. "He's been gone for a few weeks."
"Did he know about me…coming back?"
"No," Warrick assured her, having listened in without being noticed. Sara gave him a skeptical look.
"He didn't," Catherine assured her. "He was gone before your letter arrived."
Sara nodded. "Well." Mustering her bravado, she pointed in the direction the other passengers on her flight were heading. "Baggage claim, then?"
Greg looped his arm through hers. "I'm all over it, Lady Sara." He tugged her carry-on off her shoulder and swung it onto his.
"You want to carry my bags?" She raised her eyebrow at him. "I leave and you get all chivalrous."
"Indeed." He flashed her the smile she'd missed so terribly. "That, and I'm hoping there's presents in those bags."
She squeezed his arm. It was good to know that some things, and some people, never changed. "You just never know."
"Gil."
Although she still had the capacity to talk, Amanda Grissom only resorted to doing so when she couldn't get her son's attention any other way. He was sitting on her front porch, staring out at the ocean. It was a cold night for southern California, but like he was ten years old again, he'd forgotten his jacket.
She said his name once more when he didn't immediately turn around. She had an instant flash of worry; he'd only told her about his surgery after the fact and although he claimed everything was fine now, a mother's anxiety was never really placated. The fact that her anxiety went hand in hand with guilt for having passed on her condition didn't help matters.
Finally though, her son turned his head and gave her a smile she instantly recognized as forced. His hands spoke to her. I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?
The floorboard vibrations of her son leaving the guest bedroom had been enough to rouse her out of a light doze, but she shook her head. After securing her robe tighter around her aging body, Amanda approached him. Are you cold?
I'm fine. She sat in the rocking chair next to him. For several long minutes, mother and son watched the white crash of the waves against the black shoreline.
Amanda placed a soft hand on her son's arm to get his attention again. You've been here for three weeks, Gil. And I haven't asked any questions. But that was before you stopped sleeping. Talk to me.
He let out a sigh. You could lie to your co-workers, maybe even to yourself, but you could never lie to your mother. Do you remember Lizzie Graham?
Of course. Your junior year of high school. Amanda smiled, recalling her son's first major crush. You were crazy about her.
I loved her. Or at least I thought I loved her. He rested his hands for a second. She didn't feel the same.
It was her loss.
Was it? Her son's expression was pained. She was perfect to me. Up until she turned down my invitation to the prom, I thought she could do no wrong. But after that…
He stopped signing. Amanda picked up the story for him. You never mentioned her again. Until now.
I wrote her out of my life, like she'd never existed. She let me down.
Your expectations were too high. He shrugged. You did the same thing to your father.
He took himself out of our lives, not the other way around. His fingers flew in sudden anger.
He wanted to have you on weekends. Holidays. You were eight years old and you refused to see him.
I had every right.
Unwilling to start an argument, Amanda inclined her head. Maybe.
Her son's temper abated quickly. I don't want to be this way anymore. Erasing people from my life when they…
Is this about your Sara?
Seeing her name spelled out by his mother's weathered fingers brought a lump to his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow. She's not exactly mine.
She could be. Right?
He took a minute to reply. I miss her.
Of course you do. She's your soulmate.
You know that from me mentioning her a half dozen times over ten years?
Amanda touched her son's bearded cheek before she answered. Your face says so much when you say her name. Your hands even shake a little. So why are you here instead of there, with her?
She left. Months ago.
Gil…
I wrote to her. She never wrote back. It's not the first time a woman has given up on me, Mother, but it's the first time it's really mattered.
A cold breeze swept over them and Amanda shivered slightly. I don't have any advice for you, sweetheart. Except to say that you won't find what you're missing here.
Are you kicking me out? His blue eyes twinkled just a bit.
Never. I'm nudging you. Mothers nudge when their sons are being stubborn. It doesn't matter if they're five or fifty.
Do you think I'm a lost cause?
His question startled her. Gil, when I was pregnant with you, and my hearing started to go, my doctor told me there was every reason to believe you would be born deaf. But you weren't. You were perfect. If I didn't think you were a lost cause then, I could never think it now. She paused. Of course, if you were to ask me if I think you're particularly good at relationships, I might not be so encouraging. But I blame myself for that shortcoming. All you ever knew about relationships was that they ended.
I gave up on her too soon.
Amanda inclined her head again. You can always write to her again.
He nodded. I will. Once I'm back in Vegas.
So my gentle nudging is working.
I'll be leaving tomorrow. I was going to anyways. I have a very important trial coming up that I have to be prepped for. Her son covered her hand with his and spoke without signing. "Thank you."
"I love you," Amanda told him out loud. Her fingers spoke for her again. You are my greatest work of art. She stood up and pressed a kiss to his graying curls. Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Pancakes for breakfast?
Pancakes helped with Lizzie Graham. This time, his smile was genuine. Can't hurt here.
"Let's go over it one more time, Sara." ADA Karen Darver paced in front of her like she was already standing in front of the jury. "Prior to stopping by Dr. Forbes' house, what had you done on the day you were abducted?"
Putting herself back in that time, in that place wasn't easy. But after five repetitions of the eye-witness account she would eventually give on the stand, she was almost used to it. The ADA was good at her job; Sara had to give her that.
"I had a day off from work," she replied. "I spent the morning cleaning my apartment, watching a movie on TV. I had lunch." She hesitated for a second. "I got a call from a co-worker, Greg Sanders. And during that call, my supervisor, Dr. Grissom, stopped by my apartment."
"What did he want?"
She took a breath. "He was worried about me."
"Why?"
This was the part that got to her every time. "He knew about my…relationship with Dr. Forbes. Being that, at the time, Dr. Forbes was a suspect in Julia Sommers' murder, he was afraid…"
Karen gave her a few seconds, but when she didn't go on, she sighed. "Sara, we have to establish that if your relationship with Forbes was strong enough to worry your supervisor, it was more than enough to motivate Callie Lamb into attempted murder."
"Won't this just prove that she really is crazy like she claims?" Sara wondered. "I guess I'm still not clear on why her plea of insanity wasn't accepted."
Karen sat down on the edge of the desk Sara was seated behind. "I'll tell you the truth. The D.A. is a strong supporter of the death penalty. He can't put a needle in her arm if she's legally insane."
"But she confessed."
"To what she did to you. She's never confessed to anything regarding Julia Sommers."
Sara looked off to her right. "I went to so many of those group meetings. And every time I walked into the building, she would greet me with a smile. Ask me how my day was. I never imagined…I'd be helping put her to death."
"In all fairness, she tried to kill you first."
Karen might have been good at her job, but she didn't beat around the bush. Sara rubbed her temple. "Can we call it a day? I think I'm still suffering from jet lag."
"I suppose so." The ADA checked her watch. "I have another prep in ten minutes. Time enough for a smoke break."
Sara gathered her bag. "How strong do you think the case is?"
"Pretty strong." Karen pulled a cigarette and lighter out of her purse. "But then, so's the case for her being a nut job." She opened the window, letting fresh air into her office. "It could go either way."
"This might be a bad time to bring this up, but I never actually saw her do anything to me."
Karen lit up. "Just tell what you know. Leave the rest up to me."
"Yeah." Sara opened the door into the hallway. "Bye."
She closed the door behind her, turned around and ran straight into Grissom.
To Be Continued