SLOW BURN
~ Chapter 11 ~
"Well, that certainly looks better than the last time I saw it!" Tightening his hold on the little boy perched on his shoulders, Jim looked down at the freshly-scrubbed pool tiles and slowly nodded. "I have to say though, if it had been me, I probably would have filled it in."
"Oh, I was leaning that way, believe me," Grissom told him, his lips curling up in wry amusement as his son started beating out a rhythm on his friend's closely-cropped head. "But, as soon as they emptied it out and got it clean you could see it was actually in pretty good condition, plus the structural report says it's sound, so I kind of ran out of excuses." He shrugged. "There's also the fact that, one day in the future, Ben and his younger brother or sister would find out that their old man buried their swimming pool and I would, undoubtedly, be disowned on the spot."
"Well, yeah, there is that, I suppose," Jim grudgingly conceded as he turned to look at the rest of the yard. "It's all coming together, isn't it?"
"Yep, by the end of the week, we might actually have a backyard." Squinting slightly in the bright sunlight, Grissom idly massaged a spot above his left eye. "Once the pool and the fence are finished there are just a couple of garden beds to be planted up and Ben's play set to build." He chuckled. "The plan had been to put the thing together myself but the contractor offered to do it for me and, since he actually knows what he's doing and will, no doubt, be finished in a fraction of the time I would, I decided to take him up on his offer."
"Smart man." Jim smiled. "I guess the City pays a hell of lot better now than it used to, huh?"
"The City doesn't, no, but the settlement money from the accident we had in Flagstaff did." Grissom cocked his head in the direction of the house. "This was paid for using what we got from the sale of both Mom's place and the Waltson Avenue house and the settlement money has helped pay for some of the renovation work we've done." One shoulder rose in a casual shrug. "Some of it will also go towards the new cars and anything that's left after that will be going straight into a couple of college funds."
"You've done your homework?" Brass asked as he winced in discomfort as a particularly hard slap found its mark. "Ben, buddy, that's starting to hurt!"
The complaint was met with a joy-filled laugh from his small assailant and Grissom tried unsuccessfully to hide the smile his friend's discomfort caused.
"According to the internet…" Grissom schooled his features into a more neutral expression as Jim shifted his attention back to him. "The most popular vehicle on the road in Vegas today is the Ford Explorer and the most popular color is white so that's what I'm leaning towards." He shrugged. "I think Sara was hoping for something a little smaller but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of having two vehicles that are essentially interchangeable, especially if we can get them with the darkest window tint that is legally possible."
"So if someone tries to follow you, it'll be harder to tell exactly who it is that's driving." Jim grinned. "Like I said earlier, smart man."
"I have my moments. So…" Glancing quickly in the direction of the sliding glass doors the house, Grissom tried to make sure no one was watching them before turning back. "You've got the paperwork for my carry permit?"
"Right here in my pocket." Deciding his scalp had had more than enough punishment, Jim reached up and swung Ben off his shoulders and then twisted the little boy upside down much to the toddler's delight. "Conrad already had it filled in using the information on file so all you have to do is sign it and I'll drop it back to him on my way home." He spun Ben upright again and lowered him to the ground, holding him securely to ensure he had his feet before letting go and chuckling as the child took off at a run towards the other side of the yard. "He said he'd fast-track the permit so it should be good to go by the middle of the week."
"That's great; thanks." Grissom shaded his eyes with one hand as he kept a close eye on his son.
"I thought we could take a trip to the gun store on either Wednesday or Thursday and then maybe get in a little practice at the range on the way home." He shrugged. "It has been a while, after all."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Gesturing in the direction of the back door to the garage and the little boy now trying his best to get it open, Grissom checked his watch. "Lunch won't be far off so how about I sign that paperwork now." Removing his son's fingers from the handle, he opened the door and let the toddler run ahead of them. "There's bound to be a pen in the car I can use and I'd really like to get out of this glare."
"Hangover?" Jim joked, knowing full well just how far away from the bottle his friend stayed these days.
"Just a headache." Ignoring the attempt at humor, Grissom held the door wide to allow Jim entry into the large cool space. "It came on about an hour ago; I really should have brought my sunglasses out with me."
"Probably caused by the guilt of keeping secrets from your wife," Jim quipped as he stopped just short of the doorway.
"One secret," Grissom clarified. "And I won't be keeping it for long; I'd never bring a firearm into this house without discussing it with Sara so, as soon as Conrad sorts out that permit-"
He stopped mid-sentence as a loud crash sounded from inside followed by a familiar mischievous giggle and Grissom quickly gestured his friend ahead of him.
"We better get in there now before he either breaks something or we have to pull him out from under whatever it is he's exploring." He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation as an amused Brass finally stepped through the door. "Then, while I'm signing that paperwork, maybe you could remind me why I ever thought having two of him was such a good idea."
"But Ben's okay?" Looking out through the large windows to the backyard, Helen Gallagher watched as her husband-to-be swung the little boy off his shoulders and dangled him upside down for a moment before setting him feet first on the ground.
"He's absolutely fine." Concentrating on freeing her creation from its baking dish, Sara didn't look up. "He woke up this morning raring to go and hasn't stopped since."
"Just keep an eye on him, okay?" Helen suggested. "Some of these things can incubate for a day or two before making their presence known." Turning away from the window, she sniffed the air and smiled. "That smells wonderful."
"Spinach, mushroom and feta pie," Sara told her proudly as she eased the parchment paper away from the sides. "I think it's more of a crustless quiche than anything but the recipe calls it a pie so I'm not going to argue." She screwed up the paper in her hand and tossed it in the trash. "I've got a Greek salad in the fridge and I had Gil pick up a loaf of crusty bread from our local bakery this morning so we'll just give this ten minutes or so to rest before I slice it and then we can eat."
"Well, if it tastes even half as good as it looks I can't wait." Pulling one of the tall stools away from the countertop, Helen took a seat and ran her hand across the grey and white flecked granite surface. "Have I told you how much I love this kitchen?"
"A couple of times." Leaning forward, Sara chuckled as she pulled open the dishwasher door and placed her used pan and utensils inside. "But that's not surprising since you're one of the few who saw the place before we ripped the old one out." She looked up and chuckled. "It kind of makes you wonder about the previous owners, doesn't it? The bright yellow walls were bad enough but the black cabinetry and matching countertops they had going in here was almost scary." She pushed the dishwasher door closed before standing upright and idly rubbing her lower back. "You're still determined to renovate Jim's, aren't you?"
"Well, considering he hasn't done a thing to the place since he bought it, I think it's about time." Helen looked around again, taking in the soft silver-grey wall color and sleek white cabinetry. "I'd like something like this, I think; clean and light looking; it'll be a nice change away from all those dark tones we're living with now."
"I could drop a couple of none too subtle hints if you like," Sara offered as she pulled open the refrigerator door and extracted a large salad bowl. "Make sure he knows just how grateful his new bride would be if she, say, got the renovation go ahead as a wedding gift."
"Oh, he's already agreed to get it done and if I called a contractor tomorrow he probably wouldn't even bat an eyelid but…" Helen sighed. "I guess I'm not going to be entirely comfortable doing something big like that until after we're properly married."
"Jim's not your ex-husband, remember." Moving across to the dining table, Sara placed the bowl in the very center. "He wouldn't leave you high and dry like that moron did."
"Oh, I know, believe me," Helen nodded emphatically. "The odds of him draining our savings account and leaving me with two kids and a mountain of debt after I find him in bed with the seventeen year-old babysitter are absolutely nonexistent but…," she shrugged and offered Sara a rueful smile. "I have trust issues and Jim knows it; we're working through them and making progress but it takes time." She smiled happily. "He still asked me to marry him though so we can't be doing too badly."
"Have you decided where you're having the ceremony?'
"Well, we've both done the big wedding thing and neither of us feels the need to repeat it so we've opted for the backyard." Twisting her stool fully around to face the table, Helen smiled. "We've been working on that garden together for months now so it seems only right that we take our vows there." She took a deep breath. "You don't think we're rushing things, do you?" She attempted to nonchalantly push an errant strand of ash-blonde hair back off her face but couldn't quite carry it off. "It's just a couple of people have commented on it, that's all."
Stopping in her task, Sara straightened up and stared at the woman before her. With her hair lying loosely around her shoulders and the scrubs and cross trainers she usually wore for work replaced by a light floral blouse and tailored cream slacks, Helen looked absolutely nothing like the ER nurse who, Sara had heard, could wither even the most senior of doctors with a steely glare. She was a remarkably young looking fifty-eight and, away from the stress and tension of work, had a quirky sense of humor that, in Sara's opinion, was probably the thing that had truly attracted Jim to her in the first place.
Sara had been a little wary of her at first, unsure whether or not, she was good enough for her much loved friend but Helen's absolute honesty about her own circumstances and her unwavering support for Jim in his seemingly unending attempts to fully reconcile with his daughter had won Sara around in the end. She now considered the woman one of her most trusted of friends; albeit one who was clearly in the midst of a case of pre-nuptial jitters.
"Really?" Striving to reassure her, Sara almost scoffed at the comments. "We live in a city where most weddings seem to be a spur of the moment thing so, by Vegas standards, a month is almost a lifetime." She shrugged dismissively. "You love Jim and he loves you and whether you want to get married a month from now or a year from now, it's nobody's business but yours." Placing her hand over her belly she grinned. "Besides, if you leave it too much longer I'm going to be the size of a house and, trust me, I do not want to have to go trudging around town trying to find an outfit that doesn't make me look like I'm wearing a circus tent."
As if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Helen released the breath she'd been holding and smiled. "How's everything going with the baby?"
"Good, really good." Smoothing out the tablecloth, Sara hesitated for only a second before pressing on. "Can I ask you a question?" She took a deep breath, "As a nurse and as a mother."
"Of course," Helen frowned. "You can ask me anything."
"Baby brain is real, right?" Sara tried her best to make her query sound casual. 'I mean forgetting things, getting confused about stuff, that kind of thing." She shrugged. "It's normal, right?"
"It most certainly is," Helen confirmed with a laugh. "I didn't have a problem with it when I was pregnant with Trent but I spent three or four months while I was carrying Kaylee searching for my car keys and getting reminder phone calls about appointments that I swear I never made." She grinned at Sara. "So, what are you missing?"
"Time," Sara told her honestly. "I lost some yesterday." She shrugged almost dismissively. "Not a lot of it, about a half hour or so but, for the life of me, I have no idea what happened during those thirty minutes."
"You lost a block of time?" Leaning forward in her seat, Helen frowned as her mind whirred with possibilities. "Did you tell Gil about this?"
"No, and to be honest, I'm a little afraid to." Pulling out the nearest chair, Sara sat down. "I mean, I'm sure nothing…" She struggled for an apt word. "… untoward happened during that time but coming so soon after-"
"After your abduction," Helen finished for her then took a deep breath in as she processed what she'd just been told. "I don't know, Sara; my training is telling me it's probably nothing more than a case of you being overworked and overtired." She shrugged. "I imagine you drove home on automatic pilot and then zoned out even more for a while the minute you pulled up. That kind of thing is neither safe nor ideal but it happens to all of us at one time or another." She shook her head. "But considering what happened to you a couple of months ago, I tend to think it's something that we can't just write off as a quirk of pregnancy." She locked eyes with Sara. "You have to tell Gil about this, Sara, there's no getting away from it; you have to tell him for your sake, for his sake and for the safety of both Ben and the little one you're carrying."
The distinct sound of something hitting the ground emanated from one end of the house and, ignoring the fear that Helen's words had caused, Sara pushed to her feet. "That will be Ben in the garage, we've still got some furniture and boxes piled up in there and he seems to think it's an adventure playground." She pushed the chair in again and made her way back to the kitchen. "I better get that pie ready, they'll be in here looking for lunch any minute now."
"You can't ignore this, Sara," Helen cautioned once again. "Gil needs to know what's been going on."
"I know and he will." Rounding the countertop, Sara pulled the pie towards her and reached for a knife. "We're going out tomorrow morning but as soon as we get back, I'll make a point of filling him in." She looked up again with what she hoped was a confident smile. "I promise, Helen, before this weekend's out, he'll know all about it."
Parked in the rear of the Sonic Drive-In on Warm Springs Road, Sara twisted around in the Murano's driver's seat to address her grumpy son strapped in the back.
"Come on, Ben." Reaching back, she lightly rubbed the little boy's leg. "Daddy will be back in a minute and he's bringing something nice for you." She brightened her voice as much as she could in an effort to elicit a little excitement from the toddler. "You like the burgers here, don't you? I bet that's what he's getting."
"No!" With a determined shake of his head, Ben forcibly pulled his leg away from her and Sara rolled her eyes skyward as she reached for the door handle.
It had been a long morning but, all in all, a very satisfying and successful one however that, Sara thought as she climbed out of the front seat of the car and into the back, looked very much as if it might be about to come to a premature end.
The manager of the local Ford dealership had all but fallen over himself to get their business when he found out they were in the market for two new SUVs and had, within the space of an hour, agreed to a more than generous trade-in deal on both the Murano and Prius and arranged for a pair of identical white Explorers to be ready to go by the end of the week.
With both cars appraised, they'd quickly doubled back to drop the Toyota off at the house and then headed out to Home Depot where, much to the exasperation of both of her male companions, Sara had spent over forty minutes narrowing down nursery paint colors to a final three possibilities; all of which were now nestled in a carrier bag in the form of sample cans to be auditioned in the room itself.
Throughout the morning, Ben's mood had steadily deteriorated, going from excited and alert at the car yard to bored and downright bad tempered in the paint department and, with their fingers crossed that hunger and boredom were the culprits and not something more sinister, a stop at the nearest fast food outlet had been decided upon.
It was a rare treat that usually thrilled the little boy but, given the stubborn set of his jaw and miserable expression on his face, it clearly wasn't working this time.
"What's the matter, baby?" Slipping her hand over his forehead, Sara felt for signs of a fever. "Do you feel sick?"
Ben shook his head again although not quite as vehemently as before and, as Sara watched, his eyes welled up with tears.
"Oh, sweetheart." Using her fingers to wipe away the couple that fell, Sara leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his tousled head. "Daddy won't be much longer and, as soon as he gets here, I think we'll go home, okay? When we get there you can take a nap and I'm sure you'll feel much better when you wake up."
Reaching past him, she grabbed his yellow duck and placed it on his lap looking on with a slight smile as he wrapped his arms tightly around the stuffed bird and cuddled it to him. A present from Jim Brass on the day of his birth, the plush had always been the little boy's go-to toy for comfort and security and, easing herself back out of the vehicle, Sara heaved a sigh of relief that it seemed to be working its magic now.
"He's no happier?"
Starting slightly at the unexpected question, Sara pushed the car door shut then turned to find her husband standing behind her, a plastic Sonic bag in one hand and his sunglasses in the other.
"No, not really." She shrugged. "We're going to have to take him home; I think he's just overtired but the knowledge that he's been exposed to a virus keeps popping into my head."
"Yeah, that's been on my mind too," Grissom admitted as slipped the sunglasses into place. "They go downhill so quickly at that age, I don't think we can risk dragging him around another store." Raising his free hand he massaged the spot above his left eye. "And, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I could face it just now either."
Watching him, Sara frowned. "Still got that headache?"
"Yeah." He began to nod but quickly curtailed the movement as the pain ramped up. "I was sure it was gone when I woke up this morning but now it's back with a vengeance."
"I don't have to worry about you too, do I?" Reaching out, she placed her hand across his brow as she had done with their son moments earlier.
"No, not at all; I'm sure I'll be fine." Her tone had been light but the concern in his wife's eyes was clearly evident and Grissom smiled to reassure her. "I've always been prone to stress induced headaches and migraines, you know that," he shrugged dismissively. "And with everything we've had going on around us lately, it's probably not all that surprising that it's catching up with me now."
"Are you sure?" Still a little skeptical, Sara eyed him carefully.
"I'm positive." Moving the Sonic bag from one hand to the other, Grissom rounded the front of the Nissan and headed for the passenger side. "A couple of painkillers and an hour or so in a quiet room and I'll probably be good as new."
"Then that's what you'll have." Lowering herself back into the driver's seat, Sara twisted the key in the ignition and looked back at her now dozing son in the rearview mirror. "The two of you can get some sleep while I try out the paint samples in the baby's room." She shrugged lightly. "It'll probably be easier shopping for him or her if we've decided on the color scheme first anyway."
Shifting the transmission into drive, Sara eased the Murano out of the parking lot and then turned south onto Arroyo Grande Boulevard for the twenty minute drive home.
They were less than five minutes into the journey when the vomiting began.
A/N: My apologies for the delay with this chapter, things have been a little hectic around here lately and it's not always easy to find the time to get this done. Thanks, as always, goes to SylvieT for the beta. :)