Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. No silver has crossed my palm, either.
A/N: Sequel to Lost and Found. Brandie was the first to suggest that Lost and Found wasn't really finished. She had no idea she pushed me in this direction. Surprise! Those of you familiar with Dark Season will recognize the Grissom flashback sequence...this story does not take place in that universe; it just borrows that scenario. Smacky30 has my eternal gratitude for speed-of-light-on-short-notice beta services. Thanks to brandie, csishewolf, phdelicious and vrtrakowski for their valuable feedback and patience while I was twirling around over this.
Grissom's mother appears in this story. My usual practice is to note signed conversations with double slashes, however, this is not possible at ff dot net. All of Anna Grissom's conversations are either simulatenously spoken and signed or signed only, as are his conversations with her. I point this out for those instances in which I might have been unclear in the text.
It takes one person to forgive, it takes two people to be reunited.
Lewis B. Smedes
McCarran was a madhouse, as usual. Restrictions seemed to change daily, so they'd checked the latest rules online before leaving the house...it was good thing Sara had a penchant for travel size toiletries or their schedule would have been off by an hour or more. They'd just settled in the waiting area near their gate when Sara's phone rang.
"Sidle." After a moment she handed the phone to Grissom. "It's for you," she said, then mouthed 'Ecklie.'
Surprised, he took the phone. "Grissom."
He listened for a moment then rolled his eyes. "I'm on vacation, Conrad. I'm supposed to be unreachable."
Sara chuckled to herself and bent to search for something in her carry-on. When she sat back up, Grissom was holding the phone out to her, apparently finished with his conversation. She took it and was about to ask what Ecklie wanted when she glanced at his face. It was completely white. "Jesus, Gil, what's wrong?"
"It's Mom. She's had a heart attack..." he said softly. He blinked several times as the color slowly rose back into his cheeks. "But I just talked to her this morning...she was fine this morning..." he said looking at her, still confused.
"How bad was it? Where is she?"
"Ecklie didn't know how bad it was...she's at Mt. Sinai," he said, still far away. Finally he took a deep breath and looked at her. "I've got to get to L.A., Sara," he said, starting to get up from his seat.
Sara caught his sleeve. "First, call the hospital. Then we can look for flights..."
Grissom sat back down trying to take in what Sara was saying. "I should check my phone...I turned it off – that's why he couldn't get me," he said, digging for the phone in his coat pocket. Pulling it out, he flipped it open. "There's half a dozen text messages and several voice messages..." he said, "Wait, there's a number...it's Callie Ferguson, Mom's neighbor." He quickly dialed the number.
"Callie, it's Gil Grissom...I just got your messages...how's Mom?"
Sara watched as he listened intently, nodding and asking an occasional question. After a few minutes he hung up. "Callie says it was a mild heart attack...they did angioplasty about an hour ago...it went well and she's going to be OK," he said as he punched in another number, "She gave me the number for the nurses' station outside ICU...Hello? Yes, my name is Gil Grissom. I understand my mother, Anna Grissom, is there. Can you tell me how she is? Yes, I'll wait."
Sara rubbed his back as they exchanged sighs of relief. "Yes...I'm still here...uh huh...I see...no, I'm in Las Vegas and have to get a flight to L.A. Can you give her a message for me? Tell her I love her and that I'm on my way. Yes. Yes. Thank you very much."
Grissom snapped the phone shut and scrubbed his face with his hands.
"You OK?" Sara asked.
"Yeah..." he said, smiling weakly. "I need to find a flight to L.A."
Sara stood, gathering her purse and carry-on. "US Airways has flights to L.A. all day long...we can probably be in the air within the hour."
Grissom looked up at her. "Our trip to Tomales Bay...Nathan is expecting us."
"He'll understand…I'll call him…" She rubbed his shoulder, "Let's go see your mom."
xxx
They did find a flight to L.A. within the hour. Grissom spent the time waiting to board making more calls to L.A. He was able to reach the doctor on-call and get details about her condition and prognosis, all good. Calls to some of his mom's other friends eased his mind that she'd gotten help right away – someone had been with her when it happened and called 911.
Sara used the time to reserve a car at LAX and book a hotel. She also called Nathan Cherry to let him know their reunion would have to be postponed. "It'll be good to see you whenever you get here, Mutton. Come when you can," he'd said. She was surprised by an unexpected longing to go home...something she hadn't felt since her days in foster care. Maybe that was a good thing; she'd have to think about it later.
When they got to LAX, Grissom took a cab straight to the hospital. Sara got the rental car and took their luggage to the hotel. Once she'd gotten them checked in and the luggage dealt with, she drove on to Mt. Sinai.
Sara was not good at hospitals. Having spent so much time in emergency rooms as a kid, she always felt as if everything might come undone any minute. "Secrets and pain," she told herself, it had all been about secrets and pain. Recently she and Grissom had often been at Desert Palm: first waiting for news about Brass's condition and then visiting during his recovery. She was doing better with the hospital thing, but the visits left her exhausted and uneasy. She didn't know how much help she'd be for Grissom, especially if things went bad. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the front doors of Mt. Sinai and went in search of ICU.
"Only one person may be in the room at a time, Miss Sidle," said the nurse, who barely looked up from the desk. She checked her watch. "And visiting hours will be over in half an hour. You may wait over there if you wish," she said nodding toward a seating area.
"God I hate this…that 'you're just an annoyance' attitude…that hasn't changed since I was a kid," she thought. The small waiting area was deserted. Wandering over to the narrow window overlooking the parking lot, she wondered how Anna was doing and how Grissom was dealing with it all. He never talked about it much, but she knew he was fiercely protective of his mother. They'd been through so much together. Sara caught a mental picture of Gil as a boy, smart as hell and heartbreakingly serious, an explosion of curls sticking out of his head at all angles – that made her smile.
She was just about to sit when an elderly man approached the nurses' station, getting the same brusk treatment from the duty nurse. "I'm sorry, sir, her son is in with her now. You may wait over there. Visiting hours are over at 3:00."
The man ambled over to the waiting room. As Sara watched him approach, she wondered if this was Anna's gentleman friend. Grissom had said something about a man in his mother's life but hadn't elaborated. He was certainly handsome: about six feet tall with a strong carriage for a man in his 70s, thick white hair gathered at his neck in a short ponytail, blue eyes, very tan. He was wearing a pale yellow embroidered guayabera and white slacks, huaraches on his feet and a straw hat in his hand.
When he saw Sara looking at him he smiled broadly and extended his hand. "I am Adrian Drew. Are you Sara? Anna has spoken of you."
She could not help but smile in return. "Yes, I'm Sara Sidle, Gil's friend. Pleased to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances," she said, grasping his hand.
"Well, fortunately Anna is doing well and expected to make a full recovery. I am most grateful," he said quietly.
"Gil should be out in a minute…I think Nurse Ratched is going to toss us out at three on the dot."
"You're probably right about that," he said looking toward Anna's room then quickly back at Sara. "I am afraid I must take my leave, however. Would you be so kind as to get word to Anna that I will return tomorrow? I don't want to brave the formidable charge nurse again…"
"Of course, I'd be happy to, Mr. Drew," she said, "You're sure you don't want to wait?"
"Quite certain, Sara. Until tomorrow then," he said and sauntered off down the hall.
Sara was right about the duty nurse. She went into Anna's room at three on the dot. Grissom emerged not thirty seconds later, looking tired but not as worried as he'd been on their trip to L.A. "Anna must being doing all right," she thought. He shocked her by walking directly into her arms and hugging her tightly.
"She's OK, Sara. She's going to be OK," he sighed.
"Oh, Gil, that's great," she said, stroking his back. "I'm relieved."
He let her go reluctantly. "Let's get out of here. I know how you feel about hospitals…we can come back tonight."
"Fine by me. Wait, I need to give a message to the nurse." She drifted off toward the nurses' station, talking over her shoulder as Grissom stood at the bank of elevators, "One of your mom's friends stopped by…"
Sara delivered her message and rejoined him just as the doors opened. They stepped inside, hand in hand.
xxx
"Mom wants some things from home. Do you mind if we stop there before we get something to eat?" he asked as they pulled out of the Mt. Sinai parking complex.
"Sure…I'm not that hungry, anyway," she said. "So, how was she?"
"Tired…her color was good, though. She's not even on oxygen. Dr. Hart did an angioplasty and thinks she'll be fine…she'll have to watch her diet, but it was a mild heart attack…it could have been so much worse…"
Sara interrupted, "Did you say Dr. Heart?"
"Hart…H.A.R.T…yeah, I know, strange. He told Mom his only other choice of careers was as an insurance agent for The Hartford. Fortunately, he's a much better cardiologist than he is a comedian. Mom says he's about twelve years old, but she likes him," he chuckled.
"He could have sold John Deere tractors," Sara smirked.
When they stopped laughing, he said, "We'll have to tell him your joke…he needs new material."
A few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the Fillmore Arms, Anna's apartment building. Grissom parked in his mother's guest space and they went inside. The Fillmore was an old hotel that had been converted to apartments in the 70s. It had a sort of seedy grandeur that Grissom loved, like a once beautiful woman trying to outrun her age. Anna lived on the third floor.
"You have to wonder how successful this place ever was being named after Millard Fillmore," Grissom said as they entered the elevator.
"Maybe the original owner was a fan? Or from New York?" Sara speculated.
"Actually, I think it was a lineal descendent. I guess I'd be proud if my many times grandfather was the thirteenth president. Remind me to take you through the lobby. There's a huge portrait of the great man behind the front desk," he said, just as the elevator creaked to a stop, doors opening slowly. Grissom led Sara two doors down on the right. "This is it," he said, using his spare key to open the door.
Anna Grissom's apartment was stunning. The place was high ceilinged, painted a rich cream. The furniture was Arts and Crafts style, all antiques. Stained glass Tiffany lamps were placed strategically around the living room. The artwork was a mix of styles, not surprising given Anna's history in the art world. The place was eclectic, warm and inviting – very much like the woman herself.
"Want some tea or water? That's about all I can guarantee Mom has," he asked.
"A cup of tea would be good," she said, taking in the room.
"I'll put the kettle on," Grissom said disappearing into the kitchen. After a few moments he emerged and headed off down the hall, "I'm going to look for a few things Mom needs while the water's heating."
"OK," Sara answered. In an alcove between the kitchen and the hall, her attention was drawn to a baby grand piano decorated with a host of framed photographs. "Grissom?"
"Yeah?" he called from the bedroom.
"Why does your mom have a piano?" she asked curiously.
Grissom poked his head out of the bedroom door, "What?"
"Why does your mom have a piano?"
"Oh, that…can you help me in here for a minute?" he said, looking disconcerted. When she crossed to the bedroom, he continued. "That belonged to Mom's parents. They were both musicians."
Sara took another look at the piano, "That must have been hard. Do you play?"
"I used to." Still distracted, he held out a piece of paper to her. "Mom asked for some personal items…I feel kind of funny rummaging through her lingerie drawer…would you mind collecting this stuff for me?"
Grinning, she took the list from Grissom.
"I'm so glad you find this amusing," he grumped as he went off to take care of the kettle.
A few minutes later, Sara had gathered the items on the list and placed them in the train case he'd left open on the bed.
"All done," she said, slipping up behind him in the kitchen where he was doctoring cups of tea. "Anything else I can help you with?"
"I think I got everything else…" He turned, handing her a china cup. Meeting her eyes, still looking embarrassed, he said, "Thanks."
Lifting the cup to her lips, she gave him one of her special smiles. "My pleasure."
He went to sit on the couch while Sara lingered near the piano, looking at photographs. They were a catalog of Anna's life. Many were of Grissom at varying stages of life: school portraits, snapshots, and a couple or formal portraits she recognized from his book jackets. The childhood snapshots usually featured him and a man: short, balding, horn rimmed glasses, big around the middle. One showed the man and a grinning Grissom proudly displaying strings of fish.
Holding that picture up, she said, "Is this your dad?"
Grissom joined her at the piano. "Yes. That was the first time he took me fishing. We caught 27 white perch," he said, smiling. "I thought it was great until I had to eat fish almost every night for two weeks. Dad didn't much like it, either, so we tossed them back after that.
"He was a great guy, Sara. I wish you could have known him…" he said quietly.
Anna's condition suddenly materialized in the room to press down on them: she could have died today. At 78, one day the news would not be so good.
"Let's get out of here…hungry?" he asked.
"Starving," she lied, "Where shall we go?"
Grissom took their cups to the kitchen and collected the train case from Anna's bedroom. "There's a little Italian place around the corner that Mom loves…want to give that a try?" he asked, looking around the living room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
When Sara nodded, they left the apartment, both feeling as though they'd just dodged a bullet.
xxx
After a nice northern Italian dinner, Grissom decided Sara had had enough of hospitals for the day and dropped her at the hotel before heading back to Mt. Sinai. He was pleased to find they'd moved Anna to the cardiac floor – definitely a good sign.
She was sleeping when he arrived, so he slipped quietly into her room and sat in the visitor's chair. There's nothing quite like seeing a parent in a hospital bed to make one feel like a lost child. She'd scared him a few times: pneumonia 10 years ago and a hip replacement last year. But, his mother had been a rock for so long…it was hard to think of her failing even at 78. Even now he had to force himself to think about it. Losing his dad so young, well, he still wasn't over that. What was he going to do when he lost his mother? Motion from the bed caught his eye.
"Have you been waiting long, Gil?" she asked.
He stood and moved close to the bed.. "Oh, just a few minutes…how are you feeling? They moved you…that's good."
"Tired…I've never felt so tried in my life." He noticed the effort to sign was hard for her. "You brought my things? I need a mirror…I must look a fright," she signed, then patted her hair.
He picked the overnight up from its spot by the bed and set it on her tray table with a grin. Anna Grissom was not vain, but she was fastidious and always put together. The first thing she reached for was her brush and mirror. After a few strokes she was apparently satisfied and closed the little bag.
Gil moved the bag to her nightstand within reach. "You need your rest, so I'm going to go. Can I get you anything? Is there anyone I should call?" he asked. When she shook her head, he said, "Sara and I will be back for morning visiting hours. Have the nurse call my cell if there's something you want me to bring you, OK? Sleep well."
She nodded and smiled. Grissom was just about to open the door when a nurse's aide bought in some flowers: a tiny arrangement of pink roses and baby's breath in a china tea cup. She set it down on the tray table and handed Anna the card. Looking carefully at Anna so she could see her lips, she said, "These just came for you." Nodding at Grissom, she left.
Grissom signed, "Those are pretty…who're they from?"
Anna glanced at the card and signed, "My gentleman friend."
"Ah, the mysterious gentleman friend…when am I going to meet this fellow?"
"Soon," she signed with just a trace of a smile.
Kissing her cheek one more time, he signedm "I'm looking forward to it…see you tomorrow."
Anna Grissom looked back at the card in her hand and sighed.
xxx
Sara was asleep when Grissom let himself into their hotel room. "What is this effect I have on women?" he thought as he carefully sat next to her on the bed. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him sleepily.
"Hey, when did you get back from the hospital?" she yawned.
He bent to kiss her cheek but she turned her head and caught his lips. Her greeting was warm.
"I just got back. Get a good nap?" he asked when his mouth was free.
"Yeah." She caressed his face, "How's your Mom?"
He grasped her hand and kissed her palm, then held it in his lap. "Good, I think. They moved her out of ICU and into a room on the cardiac floor. She was happy to get the overnight bag...first thing she did was brush her hair. After that, she seemed like herself, but tired."
Sara smiled. "That's good to hear."
"Oh, and she got flowers...from her mysterious 'gentleman friend'..." he grinned.
"Really? You know, I may have met him this afternoon...tall, distinguished...looked a lot like a sugar baron...he was wearing one of those fancy planter shirts. He said he'd be back to see Anna tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Well, maybe I'll get to meet him tomorrow. Distinguished, you said?"
"Oh yeah...quite the charmer, too," she said.
Grissom quirked an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"
There was no mistaking the heat of that look. He grinned. "I guess not."
Neither of them thought about much of anything except each other for quite awhile.
xxx
Grissom and Sara arrived at the hospital at 10:30 the next morning to find Dr. Hart in Anna's room. He was quite pleased with her numbers and talking about releasing her later that day on condition that she have an emergency alert system installed in her home. Mt. Sinai contracted with a vendor of this equipment, so after a brief visit, Grissom headed off to make arrangements.
For Sara, this was a chance to get to know Anna, whom she had chatted with on TTY, but never met. Grissom had taught her some signs and she'd learned some on her own, but she couldn't keep up with a fluent signed conversation; fortunately, Anna appreciated her efforts and was happy to use her lip reading skills to visit with Sara.
They were chatting about Anna's release when Adrian Drew arrived. Today he was wearing a pale green planter's shirt but the rest of his outfit was the same.
"Anna, you are looking well this morning!" he said as he crossed the room. Taking both of her hands he gazed into her eyes for a few moments before leaning down and kissing her warmly. Continuing to hold one of her hands, he smiled at Sara. "Good morning, Sara. Doesn't my girl look wonderful this morning?"
Sara watched the couple as they caught up on Anna's news – that she would be released later today. Her manner with him was lively and just a bit flirtatious. It was clear that Adrian adored Anna.
Patting his hand, Anna said, "Adrian has only recently returned to the United States, Sara."
"Really?"
"Yes," he said, "I lived in Beijing for many years and the last fifteen in Hong Kong, but it was time to come home. I've only been back about six months."
Intrigued, Sara asked, "How did you meet Anna?"
"He just walked into the gallery one day. My assistant came rushing into my office to tell me there was a very handsome gentleman out front...and she was right," Anna beamed up at Adrian.
Adrian said, "I was looking at lovely little bronze…Erté, I think. I turned around and there was Anna. Who would not be captivated?"
For Sara, who barely remembered her parents at peace, seeing them together was a joy. They couldn't take their eyes off one another. She wondered how she and Grissom would be at their age, startled that she could project their relationship so far into the future… "Guess I'm more secure than I thought."
Gil walked in as Adrian was reminiscing about China. "The atmosphere in the early 80s was so exciting, Sara. Everything seemed to be opening up. I'd been in and out of China for going on 30 years at that point. It was wonderful to see," he said as Grissom approached Anna's bed. He stood at the foot of her bed until she acknowledged him.
As was her practice in company with both deaf and hearing members, she spoke and signed, "Were you able to make the arrangements, son?"
Following her lead, Grissom spoke and signed, "Yes. The equipment plugs into your phone line and won't interfere with your TTY setup. I can install it for you. Once it's hooked up, we call the service center and they take care of the rest. They'll have a unit waiting by the time you're ready to check out. You even have your choice of call buttons…a necklace or a bracelet. And…I ran into Dr. Hart in the corridor…he wants to do one more EKG. If everything is OK, you'll be out of here in time for tea."
"Oh, that is good news! I'm so pleased," she smiled. "I had my fill of hospitals and rehabilitation when I had my hip replaced."
There was a pause in the conversation. Grissom looked from Anna to Adrian expectantly, waiting for an introduction now that he'd finished with his news. An orderly entered the room with a wheelchair just then. Grissom signed for his mom as the man spoke, "Mrs. Grissom, I'm here to take you down to get another EKG." Once he'd helped Anna into the chair, he said, "This shouldn't take long. Dr. Hart wants to read the strip immediately…I expect we'll have you back in less than an hour."
Anna looked worried, frowning as the orderly released the brakes on the chair. She looked up at Grissom and signed, "I love you, son," as the orderly wheeled her out of the room.
Puzzled, Grissom looked at Sara, who apparently thought Anna's sudden mood shift was odd as well. "Maybe she's afraid Dr. Hart won't let her go home?" she said.
Grissom shook his head, "I don't know…maybe." Looking up, he found Anna's gentleman friend studying him. He smiled and offered his hand, "We haven't met…I'm Gil Grissom…"
"I am Adrian Drew."
Sara suddenly felt a surge of something she couldn't identify…the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She'd been smiling at Adrian, pleased Grissom was finally getting to meet his mother's mystery man. When she'd glanced at Gil, his face was a mask and he'd dropped his hand. Brow furrowing, she looked back at Adrian questioningly.
There was sadness in the man's eyes. He said, "I am Gil's father, Sara."
Instantly, Grissom exploded. "My father is dead."
If there had been gasoline fumes in the air, the whole place would have gone up from the rage in Grissom's eyes. The muscles in his jaw were knotting and unknotting, but he said nothing.
Adrian said, "Anna was afraid you wouldn't understand, Gil. She didn't want you to find out this way."
When Grissom still said nothing, he said to Sara, "Please let Anna know I will be in touch." Then he turned and left.
When the door closed, the tension in the room eased considerably. Sara maneuvered an unresisting Grissom into the nearby chair. Sara sat on the edge of the bed watching his stunned, angry expression, and remembered a conversation they'd had months ago about his childhood:
"Sara, you're not the only one with pain in your past…My mom was deaf. She lost her hearing when she was eight…that's why I know how to sign. She could speak and read lips, but wanted me to learn sign, so I learned to talk and to sign when I was a baby…I didn't know until I was older that not everyone knew ASL…like my father.
"He didn't know what he was getting into when he married a deaf girl. She tried hard to live with him in the hearing world, but he wouldn't do the same for her…he never learned to sign and resented that I shared a part of her life he knew nothing about. And I was this kind of strange kid to him, anyway. He was in the import/export business, a gregarious guy…a salesman…and a man's man. He didn't know what to do with me. To him, the fact that I was quiet and serious meant that we had nothing in common, period.
"He bailed out on Mom and me long before they divorced when I was five. By that time, Mom had met this man, Jack Grissom, who taught Botany at USC…he had a sister who was deaf, so he knew sign…they got married and he adopted me. He was the only father I ever knew. He loved my mom and he loved me. He saw that I was curious about everything, so he showed me how to learn. It was great. Mom was happy and I was happy and Dad made us a family…
"And then, the summer when I was nine, he died…no one would tell me why. He'd come in from a field trip and lay down on the couch…I was on the floor right next to him, watching TV. Mom came in and couldn't wake him up…a big part of my world died that day. I understood how Mom felt…separate…because I felt that way, too," his voice had trailed off as he remembered his ninth summer.
"Mom already had the art gallery in Venice by then. She never got over Dad's death…put Christmas presents for him under the tree every year…so she made the gallery a bigger part of her life in order to cope. I buried myself in school, and in studying…I started wondering what dying meant. I wanted to know everything I could about death, because maybe if I understood, I could understand what happened to Dad…" he'd said, voice full of tears. "I learned all about death, but I could never figure out loss."
"My God, Gil. Adrian is your father?"
Her words brought him back from whatever cache of memories he'd been lost in, "I told you my father is dead. That man is nothing to me," he said looking up at her.
She'd never seen him like this outside of the Lab: contained and deadly. She said softly, "Honey, he may be nothing to you, but he's important to Anna…you should see them together. They're in love."
His only response was a look that took her breath.
Sara said, "OK, look. Your mom is going to be back from her EKG in a few minutes. This must be why she looked so funny when she left…well, she's just had a heart attack, Gil. She's in no shape to deal with you in your current state. You're going to have to suck it up for her sake. Once we get her home and settled, you can leave and be as angry as you want. I'll stay with her so you can go find Adrian and beat him up."
She was right and he knew it, and that helped tamp down a lot of the anger he felt. Standing suddenly he went to the window, hands jammed in his pockets, "I know you're kidding about the last part, Sara, but that's just what I want to do. I had no idea I was still so…angry…about him leaving us. And what is he doing back in her life? It's just such a shock, you know?"
He relaxed into her embrace when she crept up behind him and threaded her arms around his waist. "I know, honey…"
Dr. Hart personally wheeled Anna back into the room a few minutes later. Grissom and Sara turned from their spot at the window. "Mrs. Grissom's EKG is good…pulse is a little elevated, but nothing dire…I think you can take this fine lady home. Anna, I want to see you in my office in three days. I will leave aftercare instructions at the desk with your discharge orders. I have to complete my notes in your chart. After that, a nurse will come to help you check out," he said, all smiles. "Oh, and Miss Sidle, thanks for the joke. John Deere tractor salesman…good one…I'll be sure to tell my mom."
Once he left, Anna looked from Gil to Sara, clearly wondering what had happened in her absence. Since Adrian was gone, she guessed her secret was out. She took a deep breath and looked her son directly in the eye.
Anna Grissom might be 78 years old and getting a little frail, but Grissom had seen that look many times. This was no helpless little old lady. This was Mom, who'd been dealt a series of bad hands and managed to come through it with grace and dignity…and who was every bit as formidable as he was.
He smiled and helped her out of the wheelchair and into bed. "Let's get you home. We have a lot to talk about."
To Be Continued...Chapter Two to Follow Shortly
