Part Two
Grissom
It was so damn easy. Becoming selfless that is? The actual act of it isn't easy but the slipping into it, well, that was effortless and sweet I'd never really got it before. The parent thing. Oh I believed people suspect when they said they did if for their kids. The evidence was there over and over. Mothers and fathers who would go to jail for life or risk death for their kid's lives or dreams or just because. How many times have I seen Brass and Catherine do it but I never actually understood it. What would make you kill or die someone for another person? Who could inspire that kind of devotion besides a lover? A lover can give back, they understand the depth of the devotion but a child? A child takes your devotion for granted.
The cynic that rallies in me appreciates the irony with a mocking "I told you so." Sara is leaving me. What scares me is that it's is not a difficult proposition for me to wrap my head around. I can only wonder why didn't this happen sooner? You can only love someone for so long before you give up. Only I haven't given up on her, why has she done this to me? To me? I sound like a fool. She isn't doing anything to me. She's doing something for herself.
It's starting to rain again and I'm going too fast. I need to slow down as much as I need to calm down. I won't win her over if I'm irrational and desperate. My foot taps the gas, the motor accelerates and the car jerks fitfully in response. Before it would have never occurred to me that I needed to slow down for any other reason other than I needed to have another day on this earth, one more day without with Sara. I speed up.
The yawn that comes from my mouth doesn't bode well for my persuasiveness.
How many times have I thought of taking Sara out in this car with her slim legs uncovered and crossed at the ankles? Perhaps we'd go to Christine's where she would be dazzled by my wit and my ability to get reservations in the one of the town's most exclusive eateries. I'd finish the evening with a solid Cary Grant kiss or maybe more. We'd date for a year. Maybe less. I'd design the ring myself. Sara would say she didn't want a traditional wedding but we'd slip into it anyway. Kids would come right away. One after the other. Sara always wanted to adopt an older child. One that had been in the system. So we'd probably end up with three. I would take my retirement and putter. Sara would do, well Sara would do whatever she wanted.
Only I never did anything. I just pined away and told her no when she tried to something about "this."
I know she's angry and I know why she's angry. She has every right to be pissed off and for the first moment in a long time there is actually a real possibility that Sara will not open the door for me. Other times I've been able to charm my way into whatever small apartment she'd taken residence. To offer some, it seems to be now silly now, token in exchange for forgiveness and time. I always needed more time. But even time is infinite.
The business with Thandie and Jonathan has created a giddy disorder to life. My house is a mess. I trip over toys that and Jonathan is always underfoot, following me from one room to another. Invading my precious space. I have wasted away more than half my life thinking I can't do it. When faced with it, like when people develop strength to lift a car of someone I loved, I was able to do. I wasn't weird or odd. Normal is too far. People say there is no such thing as it but I know enough to know I'm no where near it.
True, I didn't exactly lift a car off of Thandie, I did save her in some way-I hope. Maybe she lifted it off me, whatever the case, there is so much to tell Sara, to share with her. No matter what, she is the person I can tell absolutely everything. The person that will make me smile no matter. God I sound like a Motown song. Maybe if I sang a song to Sara. No, that definitely is not going to help.
I want to tell her about everything. I should have told Sara about Thandie and Jonathan. What I am is a regular father. I grumble and hurmph. I accuse my kid of moving my things around when we both know I lose them. As they leave the house, I call out about seatbelts and car seats and catching cold. Call me when you get there. Yes I know it's just the market but still. I kiss on the cheek and say I love and I am glad God gave you to me. I blow strawberries and make airplane sounds for eating.
One DNA test has turned my life around. There is light where there once was none. No that's not true either. This being honest with myself is not pleasant. There was light and her name was Sara Sidle.
Truth is, I couldn't figure out how to tell Sara. Couldn't stand to see our dream die in her eyes. She was supposed to have my first born –oh yeah that was whenever I got my head out of my ass.
Rolling my shoulders and turning my head from side is doing nothing for the fatigue. First a long shift then court is dragging me down. I didn't have time to wait for a recharge. I doubt Sara will be at the next shift.
I see a flash of brown hair and pale skin at her window about 30 seconds after I pull my car next to Sara's. She knows me better than anyone. Even with all the changes in my life, Sara Sidle is still it seems the only one for me.
Maybe she will listen to me one last time.
Part Three
Sara
"I know you are in there." He turned away from the door and back again. "Sara?"
And I know you are out there Grissom.
The knock doesn't surprise me. Of course he wouldn't listen to me. When did he ever listen to anything she had to say? No resignation, no written word from her would disturb his ordered universe. Ordered as he saw it. She should have gone to Nick's. It had been her inclination but she wanted, no needed to be alone with her own thoughts. And Nick, God bless him, would make her talk and share.
I peer out the peep hole and see a morose Grissom. What's he so uptight about? He's got a baby and pretty young girlfriend and a life. What difference does it make what Sara Sidle does or does not do? God, he's such a man sometimes. It's not like we are even having an affair. It's not like I am part of the cake. I am not even a cookie.
Steeling my shoulders I tip away and prepare to ignore him. I need headphones. Headphones and a book. I have both in my bedroom.
"Sara. Will you please answer the door? I know you are in there. I can feel you walking."
She always did walk heavily.
What kind of shit is that? He can feel me walking. What is he, Mr. Miyagi? Wax on. Wax off. I hate him. I swear I do. I wonder how long I can wait him out. No more than an hour. I am starving and he grew up with a deaf mother. Something about silence makes one extremely patient. I need headphones just to tune him out for fifteen minutes.
I remember what Mom said about bitterness and I manage three yoga breaths before I pull the door open. Shit! He's got on his court suit. God, I want you to know that this is not fair. It's just not. I am a good person. I put bad people in jail. I say my prayers. I am a good daughter and a good friend. Why in the name of all that is holy did you let him show up at my door dressed like? Why can't you have him show up in something smelling of decomp?
"Hello," I say pleasantly. "I asked you not to come."
He breezes past, blue eyes raking me over lazily. I did not occur to me that I should actually put on some clothes. I have on a pair of Sponge Bob boxers and matching t-shirt. I have no bra and no panties. Great. Him in the court suit. Me half dressed. I so hope he's not married to that woman cause I don't want to commit adultery. Stop it Sidle. You aren't going to do anything. He's not going to do anything. It's been over a decade and no one had done anything. Unless you count me serving myself on a silver platter over and over again.
"I am asking for exactly ten minutes of your time. Then you can throw me out. Can I have that please?"
Of course he can have that. Are my nipples hard? Shit I hope not.
I sit down on my couch and pull a throw up to my chin. He looks as if he wants to sit next to me. I give him the evil eye and he settles in a chair.
"Is that fur?" He wants to know unbuttoning his jacket.
"It's faux fur. I got it at Target along with these boxers, t-shirt, lamp and bookcases."
He looks at the lamp next to him. "You got that at Target?"
"Yes."
"I'm missing out."
"Yeah well, it's just me. I'm not here most of the time. Doesn't have to be sturdy. Just cute." Cute I never say the word cute. I should have said something like fashionable or trendy or-
The barb goes over his head as only a barb meant for Grissom can. "Looks pretty sturdy."
"Five minutes."
He frowns at me. Hah! He thought he was going to have ten. Score one for team Sidle and the crowd goes wild.
"You're leaving."
"Yeah. It's-it's just the thing to do."
He stops moving for a millisecond. "Talk to me." He starts moving again.
"Because I knew you would try and talk me out of it. Even you know that a plant wouldn't work again."
He nods and looks and at his hands. My window is open and the breeze is blowing the right side of his curls up a bit. He looks sad. I want to kiss him. I won't, but I want to.
"Grissom, as much as this all hurts, I want you to know that I'm happy for you. I'm just sad for myself."
"Did you talk to her?"
It's my turn to substitute movement for words. I shake my head. I am not going to cry. I will not. I should have never let him in.
"So you know about Thandie. I mean you heard."
I nod this time. He clears his throat. I head for my couch to watch him pace.
"Is that why you're leaving? Because I didn't tell you?"
"Well, there is that. But it's more than that and you know it." Wow no voice cracking. No vibrating vocal chords. Fake it till you make it, Sidle and the crowd is on their feet.
"Is there anyway for me to fix this?"
"Houdini couldn't fix this."
Score two for Sidle.
I laugh because I can't think what else to do. He laughs to make himself feel better. The joke really doesn't fit the situation. Being that Houdini was an escape artist more than he was an illusionist. Though even an illusionist would not be a good example because they don't really change anything. They only divert your attention from what is really happening.
His work shoes plod across my fake hard wood floors that I laid myself after watching some decorating show. God I hate him for making me lose my fake floors that I did myself.
"I'm very happy for you," I say lightly. I hope my eyes are bright.
His eye brows raise and his eyes darken. Various emotions play across his face and I find it difficult to capture any one of them. "I'm a very lucky man to have found Thandie so late in life."
"You know what. I don't want to hear this. I am happy for you, but I don't need to hear the details about you and-Thandie. I wish I could be bigger, but this is about big as I get."
The throw has slipped down to my waist now. Grissom's eyes hover over my chest for just a split second. I wonder if I have shown through. Damn perky nipples.
"Sorry. I should have told you. It all just happened so fast. I didn't have time to think or to process. Cath knows."
"Really?" Those damn shoes better not mark my imitation freshly laid floors. Even if I do leave town, they are still my floors.
"Yeah, after she confronted me in my office. Seems I've been too happy lately."
We laugh again. A real laugh this time. The smile stays on his face and I mourn for children that would have needed extensive dental work.
"I'm really happy for you." The bravado is leaving my voice. "Really."
He is leaning towards me and I see just how tired he is. He can't be getting much sleep. The child isn't a baby. It occurs to me then how long Grissom must have been in this relationship. The child looked to be about three years old. Gestation. Minimal dating. That bit he fed Dr. Lurie was probably a last ditch effort to make the good doctor confess. Or maybe he was talking about Thandie. Perhaps she changed his mind. Maybe it didn't need much changing.
"Even when you are angry with me…" His eyes start to water. I ball my fists up so that the nails dig into my palms. I will not comfort him. It's my pity party and I didn't invite his ass. I start huming the Motown song in my head. It's my part and I'll cry if I want to.
He cocks his head to one side and I wonder if I was humming out loud.
"Even when you're angry with me you're better to me than I have a right to expect."
"That's probably true." That surprises us both and the tears recede. He stands and half kisses and half smells my hair.
"Tell Thandie that-I'm sorry about the mute act. I'm not usually rude."
"You'd probably have better luck with her right now than me. I am headed to a hotel. She kicked me out. Kicked me out of my own house. I always wondered how that could happen." The pain or regret that he felt is lifting now like fog being burned off by the sun. I ball my hands into compact fists.
"Oh, no. Griss. I am sorry. Want me to talk to her?" Am I kidding? I am going to smooth over his relationship with his girlfriend. How pathetic. I can't stop myself. "I can call her. I didn't say anything. I swear I didn't." I must be fucking nuts. I have got to leave this town. This man.
"She knows exactly who you are."
"Oh…"
"I am going to Caesar's to have a steak and several shots and go to the VIP blackjack and try and make some trust fund money for Jonathon. She'll let me back in eventually."
He's leaning against the door now. His eyes are languid and sad. Shoulders slumped. He's been up nearly 24 hours between court and the double. He's bouncing between emotions and it's making me-dizzy.
"You should call a cab."
"I think I will." He says slowly, making love to the words as he drinks in one last bit of me.
"I can call Thandie. I mean…."
He holds up a hand. "The only way my daughter is going to let me back in the house right now is if I bring you with me."
What did he just say? What the hell did he just say? "Your daughter…"
Am I more pissed or less pissed? Less, definitely. "What kind of soap opera shit is this?"
He gives me a weird look. It's not exactly blank. Not exactly. Next comes the processing look and finally the mouth half open, lopsided, eureka expression.
"I thought you knew that Thandie was my daughter. I thought Catherine sold me out. She kept threatening me. Sara, Thandie is my daughter and Jonathan is my grandson."
His posture is suddenly ramrod straight. Good cause I am folding fast.
"She just found me a few months back. Her mom died last year and her husband bailed on her."
"Who?" I am almost caught up with him. My processors are firing on all cylinders. "When? Who? Why didn't you know?"
He was back in command of himself again. He takes my hand and tugs me towards the couch where we both sit this time, his fingers tangle into my hair.
"Thandie is my daughter from my grad school girlfriend."
"Oh." I am aware that he's sitting next to me now.
"Right after my grandson was born, her hearing started acting up. She thought her father was someone else. But after her parents died, she got a look at her father- the man she thought was her father-she got a look at his Army records and the blood type. He couldn't be her father. So she asked some of her mother's friends. There was only one guy with a history of otosclerosis who had blue eyes. There was only me to consider. Marta and I broke up and then she met John. We had a brief stab at reconciliation. It lasted two weeks. She went back to John. She probably thought it didn't matter or maybe she didn't know. Long story short, we did a rush DNA test. Twenty four hours later I brought her and Jonathan to Vegas. The asshole of a husband had just left and she needed a soft place to land."
"How did…? I mean Marta is… what was her heritage?"
"Brazilian."
"And this John?"
"White guy with blue eyes. Marta had a thing for blue eyes."
I feel air on my teeth. I am grinning. "Don't we all."
TBC