A/N Feedback would make me very happy. Thanks.
The gravel made crunching sounds under their feet. Sara's feet were encased in fashionable cushioned clogs that look like something a confused Eskimo might wear since half her heel was hanging out. Grissom wore black loafers, the rocks pushing through rubbing his heals. A seagull flew dangerously close to Grissom's ear.
The split level house was yellow with white trim. Gil hung back as they approached the small structure. A hand painted sign hung over the door. It mimicked two they had seen on the road.
House of the Spirits
Only Good Spirits Welcome
The screen door creaked and they entered a surprisingly large shop. Shelves were lined with candles, apothecary jars and old fashioned patent medicine bottles. Crystals made sounds from somewhere that Grissom could not readily identify.
"Mom," Sara called out weakly. They had not called. Sara was afraid she would loose her nerve. They had packed an overnight bag. Grissom had taken seven days emergency leave and took his first road trip with his family.
The woman that padded from the back of the structure was not what Grissom had expected. Mothers conjured up gray hair and sensible shoes. Though even his own mother, older than this woman, didn't fit the description.
She was a hair shorter than Sara. Her wavy blond hair was simple and stylish. She wore little makeup on her pleasantly lined face. Curves that conjured up ideas of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Mansfield were clad in relaxed jeans. Her feet were covered in shoes exactly like Sara's.
She took in her daughter and the bear of man behind her for several seconds. Without any preamble she let out a little squeak and fairly hopped to hug her daughter.
She hugged Sara tightly and kissed both her ears. "Well. This is something," the older woman said.
She put her hand on Sara's bump.
"Mother's guilt does work, a baby and a visit. Well this is something." She pulled Sara close again finally looking at Grissom who was standing stiffly in the doorway.
His nervous smile was not returned. Oh boy, a mother and her cub. The stupidity of the idea occurred to him then, showing up at this women's door with her pregnant unwed daughter. Pregnant by a man she clearly didn't think was good enough for Sara.
"Mr. Grissom, I presume." She skated over the G like it stung her. "Well, this is something."
Grissom stuck out his hand. For a minute he was sure Laura Sidle come Laura Mann was going to hit him. When she did eventually take his hand, she covered hers with his for nearly a minute. When she finally released him she said, "Well, this is something."
OOOOOOOOO
Laura Sidle was a very nice woman. Everyone said so. No matter how skeptical they were about the new agey stuff she practiced they liked her and thought her to be sincere.
He could smell something warm and fragrant filling the addition to the house one could not see from the road. Sara was somewhere in the rest of the houses living quarters upstairs. The trip had tired her and her mother had insisted. It was a little past noon. The comfortable rooms were done in lush purples and red. He would have liked to poke around the shop and the house, but his presence in either place was clearly not welcome.
"Well, Mr. Grissom, this is a surprise."
"It's just Grissom." He said with more courage than he actually had.
"Yeah?"
"Yes." He gave a curt nod
"So you show up with my unmarried pregnant daughter, and we are all supposed to sing kumbaye."
Straight shooter like her daughter.
"Well…"
"I wrote you off years ago. Told her to write you off too, but then destiny is a fickle thing."
He nodded again.
"I knew you two were sleeping together." She took a sip of the wine she poured herself but had not offered him. "Sara didn't tell me, I could just feel it. She was gone before, but now her voice when she talked about you. Well, it dripped with sex. I thought that would blow over too because she didn't tell me so it couldn't be serious. I thought she was working you out of her system."
Fuck this. He reached for the bottle of wine and filled his now empty tea cup. Chianti. Good. Maybe he could just stay drunk for the next few days.
"She loves me." Grissom's voice was low and sincere. "I love her."
"With that and a quarter, you can make a phone call."
He gulped red liquid and waited for the pummeling to continue.
"I am guessing that neither of you planned this."
He shook his head. "IF I were a different kind of mother I would make you leave her here with me."
"What kind of mother are you?"
"One riddled with guilt cause her kid had a crappy childhood. One who'll do whatever she can to make her happy. Still want to buy her that doll in the window even though it's no good for her."
"I take very good care of her." Grissom didn't know what else to say. It seemed to be what was important to her, that Sara was taken good care of. That she got enough sleep. Ate enough.
"Yeah, well. She's stressed out. Hasn't been getting enough sleep. And she's been crying so forgive me if I don't believe you."
"How did…"
"How did I know she'd been crying? I am her mother. What was she crying about?"
"I'm not telling you. She was taking it out on me- that came out wrong. We had a fight." He poured more Chianti and gulped. "She wanted me to go sleep with another woman-shit!"
The woman looked like she might laugh. "You gonna do it?"
"I thought you were a psychic."
"Don't like you so I can't read you." She offered crisply running a finger around the edge of her wine glass smearing her lipstick print as she did so.
"No I'm not going to do it."
"She's messed up you know. Me and her father messed her up. Spent the last years trying to fix it, but she'd already fallen in love with you before I was back to myself."
"I do love her. I have for a long time, and I do take good care of her. I am going to be a good father. Better than we both had."
"The other baby wasn't yours, was it?"
"No. I would never." He looked around the room and focused on a picture of 12 year old Sara. "I have only ever wanted her to be happy. I thought I couldn't make her happy."
She topped off her own glass this time. "How did you two end up pregnant anyway?"
"I don't know. We were careful."
"If you say so. Now tell me what kind of life you plan for my granddaughter."
OOOOOOOOO
The bed dipped comfortably under his weight. She smiled and peered at… What was that? Not Grissom's handsome face but his feet, his slightly smelly black socked feet.
"Gil?"
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."
"What are you doing?"
"Talking to Hannah. Your mom said I should talk to her more. So we can build a connection."
Something in Grissom's voice tickled a memory from right after Nick had been kidnapped. Too much wine for her, too much scotch for him. With some maneuvering she sat up. "You've been drinking with my mother?"
His face was plastered with a goofy grin. "WE had a few glasses of some very nice Chianti. It's not ours, but the family that makes it did a fine job."
Sara peered into his face flushed face. "You can't drink with her. She has a wooden leg."
"I was thinking more like hollow boob." Came his reply.
Sara hit his thigh. "Are you checking out my mother?"
"No. I was thinking we could fix her up with Brass. Get her off my ass. I must admit that I am slightly weirded out by the fact that she's only a few years older than I am. If Hannah comes home with a man my age, I think I might shoot him."
"You'll have calmed down by then. Have a more level head."
"Laura says I won't. She's says I will get worse."
"Mother talking or spirit guide."
"Both I think."
"That's a long way off." Sara said positioning herself next him.
"We still have birthday parties and kindergarten and all kinds of stuff before a husband and babies."
"I hope she looks like you."
A quick kiss made Gil smile. "I am sorry about being a bitch."
"Yeah, well. You get some bitch points considering. Honey?"
"How DID we get Hannah."
"Well, first the father bird shows his full regalia. He parades in front of the mama bird to show her that's he's stronger and prettier than all the other male birds," Sara joked.
"You know what I am talking about."
Sara kissed him a little longer this time slipping him a bit of tongue.
"Distracting the witness."
"Did it work?"
"It could. What gives?"
"I had only been on the pill a week. I lied."
"Oh." It was his turn to kiss her now.
"I could have gone out for condoms."
"I thought that if you left you wouldn't come back."
"It's not like I would never come back. It wasn't like it was our first time. The opportunity was going to present itself again."
"It was like we were on vacation. A hotel room. Champagne. I just felt a little giddy. You had on the blue shirt and you had just lost a little bit of weight AND you had just yelled at Michelson for leering at me."
"I was the strongest and the prettiest," he concluded.
Eighteen years later
Noah and Gil walked briskly past the houses and shops of the overtly contrived neighborhood. Sara had been insistent. Sidewalks. They must live where people could walk where they needed to go. She had been right. His blood pressure was lower than all his other friends, his waste size had varied little. She was doing pretty good at keeping the old man around he mused.
Tonight his heath living was out the window. It was Sunday night. They night he and Noah picked up four pints of gelato for the family to pass between them while they watched the A and E's Sunday night line up of reality and cop shows.
In a few months, things would be different. There would be new rituals in different countries.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, son."
"What are we going to do about school?"
"I would need to talk to your mom, but I suppose we can piece together a decent education between the two of us."
"Oh." They slowed the pace. Gil wanted to give his son more time. As they stood on a corner then Noah resumed the conversation.
"What about Monty and Alan?"
"I think their parents will say it's okay for them to spend a few weeks at the vineyard. I'll pitch the educational angel. Besides, we aren't going to be in Europe all year. Four or five months. Half year at the most."
"Oh. That's good."
"And you will get to work with some very impressive fencers. You know Carla Vezalli only leaves Italy for competitions."
Noah stopped and stared wide mouthed at his father. Sweat slipped past his eyelashes and fell into his one brown eye. "Carla Vezalli …."
"Supposed to be a surprise. She wants to see you. She saw a recording from Seattle, and she wants to see you. She may-and she stressed may-take you on as a student."
"Carla Vezalli wants to see me."
Without any preamble he turned on his heals and headed back toward the Grissom house. His father trotted to catch up with him but stopped when he heard his son's words.
"I gotta practice. Vezalli wants to see me. I only have a few months."
Gil Grissom sighed. Time for new traditions.