Chapter 14
Monday 9am
He had been awake for an hour, alone, listening to the occasional high note from the music Sara was playing downstairs. The smell of food finally drew him out of bed. He put on his bathrobe and padded down the circular stairs. She turned at the last minute to see him walking towards her. She took the eggs off the heat and walked to him, meeting him in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Morning," she said, embracing him and accepting a good morning kiss.
"Morning," he said, his voice a little hoarse.
"Are you coming down with something? Your voice sounds rough,"
"I don't think I've had a chance for it to properly heal." he said, looking beyond her to the eggs.
"Right, have a seat; let me get you a bowl of eggs. Would you like the peppermint tea or water?"
"Water, I guess," Grissom said, sitting at the breakfast bar.
He looked at the answering machine and noticed that there were four messages.
"Did you listen to this?" he asked curiously.
"No, I didn't have a chance." Sara said, putting a mug of water into the microwave.
He hit play and sat back on the stool.
"Moss, this is a reminder that your father's interment will be at eleven on Monday. " Roger's voice stated flatly.
Sunday 10am the computer voice said.
"Hey, Man, we gotta get away. I gotta talk to you. Call me, I just couldn't handle it." Jim's voice came through, filled with emotion.
Monday 12:22am the computer voice said.
"Grissom, this is Tibbs, your mother recommends a suit and tie at the memorial today."
Monday 7:35am the computer voice said.
"Grissom, it's ...it's Conrad. Sofia's burial will be directly following your father's."
Monday 8:00am the computer voice said.
He shut his eyes to the whole thing, setting his face in his hands. The microwave pinged and she put a peppermint tea bag into the water. He had said water, but she knew him. Setting the bowl in front of him, she added salsa to hers before pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting beside him.
He looked at his food and slowly started to eat his eggs. Sara reached for the remote and changed the CD to Cellos. Grissom took the remote and switched it to the CD he made for her. He forwarded to track two and they started to hear the cellos of Phillip Glass's Facades. He took a deep breath and then released it before resuming his breakfast. He sipped the tea and the water before finishing his meal.
"I have to go get ready." Grissom said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Okay, I love you," Sara said, the concern evident in her voice.
"I love you, too."
He walked up the stairs and went into the bathroom. He turned on the lights and stood in front of the sink. Reaching into a drawer, he removed his beard shears and trimmed it, taking great care. Next he wetted his face and shaved the errant hairs; the effect was very clear. He walked into the closet and chose a black suit, white shirt, and a tie that Sara had given him made from sari fabric. It changed colours as the light hit the silk.
Sara walked in as he tightened his tie. He turned to face her and she took a breath. She knew he was handsome, but the ordeal he had been through had made his face thinner, his eyes brighter, more alive. She kissed him quickly as she walked into the closet and pulled out a skirt suit. Twenty minutes later, her hair was back, off her face, she was in heels, and wearing a grey linen suit with a lemon yellow blouse.
She walked down the stairs to see Grissom pacing in the living room. He stopped and looked at her. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, he reached for her, giving her a deep kiss.
They pulled apart, grabbed their personal stuff and headed for the Denali. Grissom had taken Songs for Sara and continued it in the CD player. He drove with no emotion and got to the cemetery twenty minutes later. They walked into the office and found out they would be in the Taylor chapel. They walked in together and heard the most God-awful music. Grissom stopped and walked back out to the office.
"Is the music on a CD?"
"Yes, it is,"
"All right, I need to change it. Let me get the one I want," he said walking back to the Denali.
A few minutes later, he walked back in with Songs for Sara.
"Please play this, it's two hours long." Grissom said, now pacing in front of the clerk.
"Yes, sir, one minute," she said, trying to reach the man with the keys.
Five minutes later, Skip arrived and took out the house CD, putting the custom CD in. Facades poured through the room and Grissom was able to reengage and walk into the chapel. He paced, waiting until he was told to walk to the gravesite.
10:55am
"Grissom, we should head over, now," Father Tim said.
Grissom merely nodded, reaching his hand out for Sara as they walked out of the chapel on their way to the service. When they reached the small hill, he noticed that Roger and Helen were already there. In addition, there was a young woman standing patiently to the side. Father Tim started the service and the woman provided simultaneous ASL of the service.
Grissom and his mother stood together with Sara and Roger beside them. At the end of the service, Father Tim walked up to Helen and took her hands, offering her some solace before he walked away. Grissom moved to his father's gravesite and stood looking at the fresh earth. Again, he sank to his knees, his emotions overwhelming him. Helen walked to her son's side and put a hand on his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed it, trying to control himself. After almost twenty minutes, he started to stand, the dirt clumps falling silently from his trouser knees to the grass.
Grissom turned to follow Father Tim as he walked to Sofia's gravesite. Sara caught up and walked by Grissom's side. He saw the large group of people and took a breath.
"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered, softly grabbing his hand.
He squeezed it tightly, his dark glasses hiding some of his emotions. Helen and Roger walked behind them as they approached the grave. There were twenty folding chairs set up and a small tent. Conrad sat front and center, his head bowed, all alone. Grissom walked up and sat on his left. Helen sat on his right, Roger next to her. Father Tim stood and waited for the group to settle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a group of men with dark suits, standing in the distance. One looked like Jim Brass. He paused, took a breath, and started with the second service.
Sniffles were heard in the group, which numbered almost forty. At the end of the service, Conrad stood and placed a rose on the casket and walked away. Catherine walked forward to Gil as he stood and embraced him. He tried to pull away, but she held him fast.
"I'm here for you. Stay strong," she said into his ear before pulling away herself, into Warrick's waiting arms.
Nick walked up and hugged Grissom hard, choking back his own tears before stepping back, and wiping his eyes.
Greg walked up next, unsure of what to do. He embraced Sara, as if embarassed to embrace Grissom.
"Thanks, Greg." She said softly.
Helen and Roger remained seated, to give Grissom some time. Instead he simply walked away, alone. Andy watched him, as did Sara, but it was Jim who followed.
Grissom sat on a bench in the shade of a tree. He loosened his tie and undid his cuffs under his jacket. He felt a pain in his side and reached for it. At the same time he felt another presence. He looked up and saw the raw eyes of Jim Brass. His friend sat down next to him, facing the opposite direction. Brass reached up and put a hand on Grissom's shoulder. He turned and looked at his best friend. Jim took Grissom's left hand and placed something heavy and metallic in it. Grissom looked down, read the inscription and started to weep. Jim embraced him tightly, feeling the son's loss of his father. Sara, Roger and Helen watched from afar, as did the rest of CSI. Helen held out a hand to Sara and they headed back to the chapel together, with the group following.
Jim and Grissom quieted, pulling away from their embrace; pulling themselves together. Grissom removed his watch and slipped it in his pocket. He put his fathers' Rolex, feeling its weight, on his wrist. They headed for the chapel, walking quietly, listening to the general quiet of the cemetery. As they reached the building and its adjacent reception area, they heard the din of the people within. Grissom stopped; Jim turned and looked at him.
"I can't do this. I can't go in there and ..." Grissom said, his voice low and hoarse.
"All right, let me find Sara and your mother. I'll be right back." Jim said, squeezing his shoulder before entering the reception hall.
He looked for Sara and Helen and found them easily.
"Gil needs to talk to you both, please,"
Sara reached for Helen's hand and followed her out of the building. Grissom was pacing as the door opened, breaking his concentration.
Mom, I'm sorry, I can't go inside and chat. he signed.
I understand. Where will you go?
I have to go the gym, I think,
Take care. I love you. Roger invited us for dinner tonight at your house. I'll see you then. she signed, kissing him on the cheek.
Thanks, Mom, he responded.
"Be careful," Sara said, hugging him tightly.
He hugged back and then pulled away to kiss her deeply. He handed her his car keys and walked away.
"You're driving," he said as he walked up to Jim.
"What? Okay, where to?"
"First to the townhouse to change and pick up my bag and then to the gym."
Jim unlocked the doors and then followed directions. Thirty five minute later, Grissom was boxing. Jim sat on a bench and watched.
"Keep your left up, kid," Tommy instructed.
Grissom grunted and resumed his concentration on the speed bag.
"S'that him?" a loud voice asked.
"Yes, that's Grissom," Hank replied.
"You broke my boy's nose," the voice called out.
Jim watched motionless, his ribs and collar bone keeping him stationary. Grissom moved to the body bag. Tommy stood behind it; fielding the hits.
"Yo, I'm talkin' to you," the man yelled again.
Grissom continued to ignore him, concentrating on his technique. The man walked up to Grissom and spun him around.
"Wass your problem, man? You deaf?" the man asked loudly.
Grissom pushed him, hard, and the man tripped, falling to the floor. As he came back, Tommy took control.
"In the ring, gentlemen," Tommy reminded, walking between the two men.
Grissom walked towards the locker room to get his mouth guard.
"Where ya goin', man? The ring is this way." The man said, pointedly.
Grissom hesitated for a moment and looked at Jim who nodded and headed quickly to the locker room to get the mouth guard. Grissom walked over to Tommy, who had his protective gear.
"What you doin' now?" The other man said, agitated.
"He gets head gear and groin belt or he ain't goin' in the ring with you, Anthony." Tommy yelled.
"Gonna take this white boy to town," Anthony replied, under his breath.
Grissom stepped into the ring and Tommy pulled him back for a moment.
"This is Jimmy Slattery's boy who was in for weapons. Be careful. He'll fight dirty. You're better, but you fight fair, he will not."
Grissom grunted and took the mouth guard from a winded Jim, turning to face his opponent. He never saw the fist but he felt the blow miss hit across his head. Dancing away, he shook his head, and got down to business.
"Come on, kid. Pay attention, you can do this." Tommy advised.
The other noise in the gym dwindled as the fighters gathered around the ring to see the loudmouth against the 'doc' as they called him.
"C'mon, Doc, you can take this turkey," a man called.
Grissom went in and contacted with a right. Anthony fell against the ropes but kept his footing. Grissom danced back, giving him room. Anthony charged him and belted him on the kidneys, right at the belt level. With a growl, Grissom pushed him away, still moving. Anthony swung at Grissom a few times but didn't come in contact and became very angry. He charged Grissom against the ropes and hit him repeatedly, most of the blows were blocked, but a few got through.
"Enough!" Grissom roared and pushed him away, following with his fists.
He hit Anthony until he fell, motionless on the mat. Then Grissom quietly walked to his corner and paced.
"You done good, kid. You're gonna feel it tomorrow, but you done good. I'm proud of ya," Tommy said, unlacing his gloves.
Jim looked at Grissom, trying to equate this fighter with the complex scientist he knew. Quietly, he followed Grissom into the locker room and watched him methodically put his equipment away. Finally Grissom looked at him, and smiled.
Jim smiled in return and they drove back to the town house. They walked up the stairs together in silence. Grissom turned to him outside the door.
"You're welcome to come back for dinner. I figure around seven. By the way, what time is it?"
"Three-thirty, nah, you know, I'm good. Uhm, but call me, would you?" Jim said in a soft voice.
Grissom reached for him and hugged him hard. He released him, but kept a hand behind his head.
"If I get permission, and if you're not working, we'll connect tomorrow night while Sara's at work."
"Sounds good. Hey, Gil, uhm, you're a pretty amazing guy. I just thought you'd like to know."
"Thanks, Jim. We'll talk tomorrow." Grissom said, slightly embarrassed.
"Right," Jim replied as the door opened.
"Hi, Jim, thanks for bringing him home," Sara said, looking at Grissom for new bruises.
"You're welcome, see you later," he said, before turning to walk back down the stairs.
"Bye," Sara said, ushering Grissom into the town house.
He walked in, slightly unsure. Dropping his boxing bag at the bottom of the circular stairs, he walked to the kitchen. He paused, thinking for a moment.
"What do you want?" Sara asked.
"I want a bourbon; I'm not supposed to drink. I'm trying to remember when I took my medicine last." He said, sitting at the breakfast bar.
"Uhm we left at 10:15 or so. That would be approximately when you took your last rounds of meds." Sara said, walking into the kitchen.
"Okay, so I need a set of meds." Grissom said, thickly.
"Yes," Sara said, placing them on the breakfast bar with a glass of water.
Grissom socked back the pills with the water and sat quietly.
"Are you hungry? Your mother and Roger will be here around seven. You could have some vegetables or couscous and still have a little appetite when they arrive."
Grissom said nothing; instead he walked to the stereo and put on a blues CD that he had burned, setting it on shuffle tracks . The music was dark and haunting; just what he needed. He sat in the nearest chair, his head back, his eyes closed.
Sara looked at him and shook her head. She decided to return to what she was doing before he arrived; laundry. She walked in and out of the apartment to the garage where the washer and dryer were located for the next two hours and he hadn't moved from that spot.
"Griss, it's 5:30, you need to shower and take a nap. They'll be here in an hour and a half." Sara suggested as she walked past him to the guest room.
Fifteen minutes later, she walked back into the living room and he was still there.
"Griss, what's happened?" she asked, crouching next to him.
"Brass and I went to the gym. I told you that I boxed last week? That man's usual boxing opponent was at the gym today looking for me. He challenged me and we boxed."
"How did he challenge you?"
"He asked me questions. I ignored him, until he asked me if I was deaf." Grissom said softly. "Still, I kept my cool until he started to fight dirty. I hit him until he fell onto the deck; I was just so angry, and then the anger was gone. Now, I'm tired and almost numb."
"Please take a shower and try to take a nap. Roger will be here any minute because he's cooking here. Your mother will be here at seven." Sara implored.
He looked at her, and smiled before slowly getting to his feet. She reached to his face and kissed him gently. He walked to the stairs, picked up his bag and headed upstairs. He stripped off his clothes in the closet, reminding himself that he needed to rescue his watch from his gym bag. He headed into the shower and turned the water on warm. Stepping in, he groaned from the pain the water inflicted on his bruised back. As he became comfortable, he turned the heat up until it was his normal temperature. He washed the sweat from his workout and finished his shower. He opened his bag and picked up the Rolex, he paused, noticing that it was six o'clock and he did have time for a power nap. Slipping on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, he lay down on top of the comforter and fell asleep.
The doorbell rang shortly after six and Roger walked in with two bags full of dinner ingredients.
"Hi, how are you?" he asked, kissing her on the cheek after putting the groceries down.
"Fine, a little tired, but fine. How about you?"
"I'm alright, Helen's working through it, but she's still sad about her husband as well as the surprise of Sofia." He said, pulling things from the bag.
"Grissom's the same way. He got back from the gym around three thirty and sat in the chair listening to music for two hours before I was able to get him to go up and take a shower."
"He looked tired at the service today," Roger remarked, pulling out the risotto pan.
"What is on the menu for tonight?" Sara asked, her interest piqued.
"To start, a carrot ginger bisque, which I bought at Whole Foods. To follow, a vegetable risotto which I will start when all are here. I do have to sauté the vegetables first."
"Would you like a glass of wine?"
"Please, also, I need to review Grissom's instructions from Paul. I'd like to include some wine in the risotto but not if it's going to aggravate anything."
"Uhm, sure, here they are and here is your wine." Sara said, starting to set the table.
Roger looked at the paperwork and sighed. It had been one week exactly since Grissom's ulcer surgery and he needed to continue the medication at least through Wednesday and then, perhaps longer, depending on what his doctor said. He put the sheet down on the breakfast bar and started to prep the vegetables. Sara turned the stereo on, and Aretha Franklin's voice soon came out of the speakers. She sat and chatted with Roger as he worked until she noticed it was six forty five. Sara walked up the stairs to awaken Grissom. Standing in the bedroom doorway she smiled. He was sleeping comfortably on his left side. No dreaming, no terrors, just the nice quiet sleep that he needed.
"Sweetheart, time to get dressed. Your Mom will be here soon." Sara said, sitting on the edge of the bed and running her hand through his hair.
Grissom opened his eyes and smiled. He reached for her hand and kissed it.
"Come on, really, she'll be here any minute." Sara said gently.
Grissom got out of bed and walked to the closet. He chose a pair of khakis and a soft v-neck sweater. Slipping off his sweatshirt, he put on the sweater, pushing the sleeves up a bit. He pulled on the pants and a pair of loafers. Sara watched, smiling as he stood in front of the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. He reached for her and they left the room together. As they got to the bottom of the stairs, the doorbell rang. Grissom left Sara to answer the door.
"Hello, dear," his mother said, accepting a kiss as she walked in.
Grissom locked the door behind her and took her raincoat, hanging it up in the closet.
"Hi, Mom," he replied, his voice still rough, but unnoticed by her.
She looked at him, noticing the bruise that crept from his hairline. Uncharacteristically, she reached for him, pulling him into a strong hug. He responded, hoping his hold on his emotions would stay. Roger dropped a spoon to the floor with a loud noise which caused Grissom to pull away from his mother.
A noise from the kitchen. he explained.
"Sorry, just a spoon," Roger called, starting to heat the soup.
A spoon, Grissom elaborated.
Helen smiled and walked further into the living room. Sara greeted her with a hug.
"Would you like a glass of wine?" Sara asked, looking at the older woman.
"Yes, please." Helen replied, walking into the kitchen to give Roger a kiss.
Grissom leaned over and brought out the Maker's Mark bottle. He poured about an inch into his glass before walking to the kitchen to fill it with water. Roger raised his eyebrows but said nothing as he left the kitchen. Grissom sat at the breakfast bar, trying to stay awake. Roger looked at him and decided not to make a big deal out of the bourbon. Sara looked at Grissom as well, while sipping her glass of wine.
"I have to leave tomorrow. Come sit by me, Gil, I need to talk to you," Helen said, from her position on the sofa in the living room.
Grissom stood up, picked up his bourbon, and walked to the chair nearest his mother.
I love you. she signed.
I love you, too, Mom,
Do you love, Sara?
Yes, I do,
Gil, this has been hard for me and harder for you. My husband is dead; your father, but you should be happy that there is nothing more he can do to hurt us. You should feel omnipotent. Perhaps, we will learn more about your father's past and about Sofia. But I can go on, knowing that I don't have to look over my shoulder.
Grissom looked down to the floor as she paused, seeing nothing, reflecting on her words. She reached for his hands and guided his eyes to her hands.
Now, as your mother, I am sending you to bed. You look exhausted. Roger will leave you some food, all right? she signed.
Grissom looked at his mother and reached over to kiss her, hugging her closely, as he blinked back his tears. He pulled back slightly and she wiped his cheeks.
Sara and Roger stood silently in the kitchen, trying to give them some privacy. Grissom stood slowly and walked up to them.
"It appears that I'm being sent to bed without my supper." He smiled. "Seriously, I have to go to bed. Will you be here tomorrow, Roger?"
"Yes, I'm leaving around noon." He replied.
"Okay, how about brunch? Wake me up around ten if you don't see me up already."
"Will do, sleep well." Roger said, hugging him.
Grissom headed upstairs with Sara following him. He stripped to his shorts and put on a t-shirt, feeling slightly chilled. Sara bit her lip when she saw the bruises now evident on his chest and back.
"Would you like some Aleve?"
"Yeah, but it's against the rules. I don't think I can have aspirin." he said settling into bed.
Grissom opened his eyes and sat up. He reached and took off the heavy Rolex and handed it to her before settling again back onto the sheets.
"I love you, Sara." His eyes were clear as he looked at her.
"I love you, too, and I'll see you later. I do have to work tonight."
"Wake me up before you go, please?" he asked, trying to stay awake.
"We'll see, now go to sleep, sweetheart." She said as he rolled onto his side.
She pulled the sheets up to his shoulders and stood up, carrying the Rolex to the bureau. She turned it over, looking at it for the first time, assuming it belonged to Senior.
To: my son, Gilbert Aaron Grissom Jr.
From: His old man
I did love you, even if I couldn't always
Show it.
Sara wiped her eyes for a moment and then placed the Rolex gently next to the photographs.
