A/N: Oh, my gosh, how wonderful are all of you? Fantastic. Record number of reviews! I felt so special. You missed me. You really did. BIG BLUSH Aww, shucks, you guys. 38 reviews! A totally new record! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And so many new reviewers! There are so many of you that I'd take up a whole page of this update just listing all of you. Ha! Makes me happy. On the other hand, some of my regulars were missing. Makes me sad.
Did you notice how fast this update came compared to the last one? You did that. You inspired me with all of your kind words and thoughtful ideas. I'm back in the game!
This chapter is primarily fluffy with a bit of drama thrown in. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out even though I went in a completely different direction from the one I started in.
I start up at uni/college this week. No word yet on how that will affect the updates. On the one hand, I may be majorly busy. You know, classes, homework…crazy kinky sex with hot assistant professors. On the other hand, I am the world's best procrastinator and, all sexy professors aside, this is my best outlet when I'm running away from papers and reading and shit. We'll just have to see, won't we?
Thanks again for the reviews! You're wonderful. I'd thank a few people personally, but this A/N is already ridiculously long. You know who you are anyway. Okay, enough chatter! Ready, set, go!
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It took a while for Sara to find her feet. Her first order of business was to apologize to the girls when they returned home from school that day. She was nervous, and I'll admit, she had reason to be. It went over with mixed results.
"Why were you depressed?" Maggie wanted to know halfway through Sara's explanation.
"I…uhh…well…" She looked to me pleadingly. I patted her knee and gladly stepped in to help. If she couldn't stand to talk about it around adults, it stood to reason that she would have an even harder time discussing her emotions with her daughters.
I pulled Maggie into my lap. "Mags, you remember how sad and scared you were when Mama got hurt?"
"Yuh-huh."
"Well, Mama was really scared too, accept she couldn't talk to anybody about it. She had bad dreams."
"I have bad dreams too."
"I know you do. But for Mama it was different. She started to think it was her fault that we were all in danger and that she and baby Elizabeth got hurt."
Maggie looked to Sara. "That's silly."
Sara smiled sadly. "It seems silly now, but at the time, it felt very serious."
"Do you still think it's your fault?" Ayla asked from her place on Sara's right side.
Sara hesitated. It's that point you reach when you don't want to lie to your child but you're afraid to tell them the truth. "Umm…a little, I guess. I think I'll always blame myself a little for it. But Mom helped me a lot and, for the most part, I feel a lot better."
"That's good."
"It is."
"I'm glad you're talking again, Mama."
I looked towards Linds who had been oddly silent throughout the conversation. "Baby?" She stood facing all of us on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. "What's wrong?"
She scowled and rocked back and forth on her heels. She spoke quietly to Sara. "Why didn't you talk to us? Everybody was upset about the shooting, but nobody else stopped talking or eating or playing with the babies."
Sara frowned worriedly. She tried to touch Lindsey's arm, but Linds stepped out of reach. "Are you upset with me?"
"Yes!" Linds said bluntly.
"Linds…" I warned, but she just plowed on, ignoring me completely.
"Parents aren't supposed to be like that, Sara."
I blinked, surprised. Lindsey hadn't called Sara by her name in months. Where had Mama gone?
Lindsey continued. "Parents are supposed to love their kids. They are supposed hug them and play with them. They are at least supposed to talk to them! You didn't do any of that. You just stopped." Her lower lip quivered. "That's not fair!"
Sara's eyes were glistening. "I've always loved you, Linds. And I know it's not fair, sweetie. I'm very sorry. Very, very sorry."
Lindsey shook her head and looked at the floor. Softly, she whispered, "I'm not sure I want you to be my mother anymore."
Sara gasped audibly, her expression was one of horror.
Linds looked at me. "I'll be in my room. I don't want any dinner." With that, she disappeared upstairs.
Sara covered her mouth with her hand as tears poured over her cheeks and her shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
I moved closer to her and lightly ran my fingers through her hair. "It's okay sweetie, she's just still upset, that's all. She'll come around. She didn't mean it."
Sara turned to me, her eyes full of pain. "What if she did? What if I ruined everything?"
"You didn't. But she has lost her trust in you. You were always the one she turned to for help, and you lost that. You'll have to regain her trust. I'll go talk to her now and see if I can't get her to calm down a little." Sara just buried her head in her hands and continued to cry. I kissed her head and rubbed her thigh supportively. Moving Maggie off my lap, I stood up. "Girls, can you take care of Mama for a second? I'll be right back." Making my way upstairs, I whispered harshly at my daughter's door. "Lindsey Willows, you open this door right this instant."
"It's not locked," came the reply.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Linds was snuggled up under her covers, and it was obvious that she'd been crying. I rubbed her back the way I used to when she was still a little girl. "Baby, what's going on with you?"
She sniffed. "I'm mad at her, Mom."
"I understand that, honey, but why'd you have to say what you said?"
"It's the truth."
"It is not, you love her."
"No, I don't. I hate her."
"You do not, she's your mother."
Lindsey turned over and looked at me like was crazy. "No, she's not. You're my mother. She is just your girlfriend who I pretended was my mother because I thought it would make you both happy."
"Now, I know that's not true. Sara looks you as her daughter- she's never seen you in any other way. Do you have any idea how much your words hurt her? She is sitting downstairs, crying he eyes out because of you."
"I don't care. She hurt my feelings when she stopped talking to me."
"For God's sake, Lindsey. She made a mistake- a mistake she only made because she thought she was protecting you."
"Parents don't do that! Mothers don't do that!"
"Everyone makes mistakes, Linds. I've certainly made mistakes as a parent. Your father- do we need to discuss how many times he messed up? Abandoned you, yelled at you, didn't show up, showed up drunk, forgot your birthday? And you always forgave him. Sara makes one mistake and you're ready to freeze her out? How fair is that? What she did was not fair, you're right. I know she hurt you. But that does not give you the right to hurt her back."
I could feel her trembling beneath my hand. Coughing back sobs as the tears flowed, she wailed, "But she left me all alone! She was worse than Daddy! Daddy never stopped talking to me! He never ignored me! He hugged me! He told me he loved me! He called me his little princess! You can't do any of those things if you're not talking to somebody, Mom!"
I pulled her into my arms and she sobbed into my shoulder. "Shh. It's okay, I've got you." When she had calmed down and her tears had slowed to a trickle, I kissed her cheek. "Sara loves you, Lindsey. With all of her heart. And she would never, never hurt you on purpose. When she didn't talk to you, it wasn't because she didn't want to. It wasn't because she stopped loving you. It was because she couldn't. She couldn't talk to anybody. She was so depressed that she couldn't see anybody else. But it's over now. She's very, very sorry, and she wants to make up for hurting you."
Muffled in my shirt, Lindsey asked squeakily, "What if it happens again?"
"Well, you and me and your sisters have to work hard to make sure that never happens. By reminding her everyday how much we love her and need her around. Do you think you could do that?"
Lindsey nodded.
"Do you also think that you can apologize for what you said?"
"I didn't mean to make her feel bad. Not really."
"I know that, and I think she knows that. But I think it would really help if you told you were sorry, okay?"
"Okay."
"Alright."
We went downstairs to find Maggie asleep with her head in Sara's lap. Ayla was next to them, reading quietly, and Sara was staring off into the middle distance, her tears dry on her cheeks. Lindsey apologized. Sara accepted. But there was no great show of emotion, no make up hugs or kisses. The only consolation was that as Lindsey retreated to her room once more, her parting words were, "Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Mama." Sara exhaled deeply, relieved.
It would take them several weeks afterward to resume their previous relationship, but time heals all things and this was no exception.
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Sara was working hard on her road to recovery both physically and mentally. For her shoulder and leg, she had physical therapy three times a week for three months. For her mental health, she had only her friends and family. To make up for lost time, I suppose, she became determined to get involved with the twins' care. As time passed and her body healed, she could help more and more. And she loved it. She loved getting to know them as much as I did. Yeah, it was work. I won't pretend there weren't times when I wanted to pull my hair out. But most of the time it was wildly fun. Watching them grow and learn to smile and laugh, it was something the whole family enjoyed doing.
Taking care of our children had always been our number one priority, but now it really became the center around which our lives revolved. Work just took a place on the back burner. When our leave time was up, we began to cash in our vacation and sick days. We had plenty built up. But eventually they would run out, and we would have some decisions to make.
"Okay, for 'bottle' it says to pretend to grip a bottle and then place it on your palm." I watched over the counter as Sara demonstrated the motion while rifling through the pages of a thick paperback book. "And for 'no', you're supposed to snap your index and middle fingers closed together with your thumb." Again, she mimicked the instructions. She looked up at me. "Do you think this would be easier with the DVD? I saw one on eBay for like five bucks."
I rolled my eyes. "I think that trying to teach a four month-old baby sign language is a total waste of time."
From her place, cross-legged on the floor, Sara shook her head. "In this book they show two month-olds communicating their needs perfectly using infant signing."
"I don't think the twins have any problem communicating their needs." As if to agree with me, Lizzie looked up at me from her bouncy chair and squeaked loudly, throwing her arms out to the sides. "You see?" I checked my watch. "It's ten thirty-eight. She knows it's time for her mid-morning bottle. By eleven fifteen she'll be whining for a nap."
"But," Sara pointed a finger at me, "what if, instead of whining, she could actually use her hands to sign for a bottle?"
"Then…I would get her a bottle just like I would if she was whining for it." I smiled indulgently and threw a dish towel over her head.
Pulling it off, she caught me with a glare. "Baby sign language has been proven to encourage and augment both cognitive skills and speech. Babies who have been taught sign language grow up to be more stable, confident children."
"Have you met our kids? You really want Mattie and Lizzie to be more confident than their sisters? None of them learned sign language. If they were any more confident we'd be out of job."
"That reminds me, did you hear Ayla's teacher's message about putting her into sixth grade English? I saved it on the answering machine."
"Yeah, I heard it. Man, Lindsey's going to throw a fit."
"I know, but what are we supposed to do? In her free time she's going through the complete works of Ernest Hemingway. I mean, what other eight year-old knows the word 'misogynistic'?"
I smirked. "What other mother let's their eight-year old watch documentaries on the oppression of women in the nineteenth century?"
Sara raised a hand defensively. "Hey, that was a really cool special. They had interviews with the daughters of some of the original suffragettes. And that whole subsection on Sojourner Truth was fascinating. She loved it."
"My point is that maybe she's ahead of her class because we encourage her to the full extent of her abilities. As for the class, I say we leave it up to her. She turned down private school- I think she just wants to be a normal kid. There's nothing wrong with that in my book."
"I don't know. Maybe we should push her a little. I know it's hard to stand out academically, but if she's not working up to her full potential, she's doing an injustice to herself."
"On the other hand, our almost twelve year-old already has a major issue with the fact that her almost nine year-old sister is getting tutored in pre-calc and biology. What are we going to tell her about this? We can only get by with the excuse that they are both special in their own ways for so long."
"But it's true! Ayla can't do soccer or ballet. She's way behind Linds socially. And she's supremely less in touch with popular culture, not to mention reality in general."
I turned from putting two bottles on the stove. "Yeah, but when her sister is watching Lizzie Maguire or dancing to Christina Aguilera, she's off somewhere making scaled models of the Horse Head Nebula, or whatever, out of toothpicks. Shit, Sara, I can't even keep up with her half the time."
Sara began playing with Mattie's toes. She sighed. "I know. I get that it's hard. It's hard for both of them. The last thing Ayla wants to do is upset Lindsey; she worships her. But maybe you're right, we should leave it up to her. I never want to be one of those parents who thinks they're always doing the best for their kid by choosing their life for them. I hate that." She set both bouncy chairs bouncing and I could tell by the twins wide smiles that she was making faces at them. Aww. How precious is that?
"My mother is coming over in an hour to watch them. I thought we'd go out to lunch or something."
Sara turned and her eyes sparkled. "Like a date?"
I grinned saucily back. "Something like that."
"No children, no babies, no men hounding us about when we're coming back to work? Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"
"I was thinking picnic in the botanical gardens. If that's not too corny for you."
"Can we sneak off and make out behind a strategically placed fichus plant?"
"You have to ask?"
"When was the last time we made out, like really?"
I raised my eyebrows. "The hammock on Monday night doesn't count for you? I don't think I've ever seen you come that fast before."
She blushed. "Yeah, well. It had been a few weeks and I hadn't had any time to handle the problem myself. Besides, you are so sexy when you're biting your lip, trying and failing to stay quiet. I was defenseless."
"Biting my lip? I'll have to remember that one. So, should I pack a lunch?" I
turned off the stove and grabbed the bottles with the tongs.
"Mmm. Err…no. I mean I'll do it. Let's feed them and then you relax, watch TV or something. I'll even put them down."
I kissed the top of her head before sitting beside her. "Aren't you the sweet one? But if you'll make lunch, then that gives me time to get in a load of laundry. I'm way behind." Shaking one bottle I handed it over.
Sara glanced at me and frowned quizzically. "Cath, are you wearing an…an apron?"
I looked down at the sky blue apron. It had a pattern of bright red cherries on it and little pockets with red ribbon at the seams. "Mhm. Present from Nancy. At first I thought it was a gag gift, but apparently she has the same one in white."
Sara looked like she was trying hard not to laugh as she lifted Mattie from his chair and into her lap.
"Hey, it's useful, okay?"
She grinned good naturedly. "Can I get a picture?"
"Absolutely not."
"Just to show the boys? And maybe Larry and Tim?"
"No freaking way." I looked down at Lizzie in my arms. "Hello, beautiful! Hello, sunshine! Who's a good girl? That's it, open up. Oh, yum!"
"Yum? Don't you think she's more likely to be thinking, 'Oh, man? Milk again? Where's the Jose Cuervo? How I long for a margarita!"
I cackled and nearly dropped the bottle. "Is that what you're thinking, Miss Catherine Elizabeth?" I got no response. Bright blue eyes began to droop. "Mmm, I think somebody's sleepy."
"Not this guy, he's wide awake. He's just staring at me, Cath. Hey, little man. How's it going?"
Lizzie stopped drinking to yawn. "Okay, love bug. Just have a little more, and then it's off to bed."
We were quiet for a minute. When I looked up again, I found Sara staring at me. "Hmm?"
She shook her head. "You're just beautiful, that's all. Sometimes, I have these moments when it really hits me, what amazingly beautiful person you are."
I beamed. "Glad it's not one-sided then." I leaned toward her and she met my lips halfway. I hummed into our kiss. "You think we'll ever get tired of kissing each other?" I asked as we pulled away.
"God, I hope not. How are we supposed to embarrass Lindsey, then?"
"Oh, we'd think of something. But I don't think it's likely to happen. We're just a couple months shy of our second anniversary? And I still can't get out of bed without my good morning kiss."
"The kiss is your favorite part of our morning ritual? For me, it's the grope I score as you're coming out of the shower."
I laughed. "I'll always love your honesty."
"I'll always love you."
I rolled my eyes. "Laying it on pretty thick there, Sidle."
She smirked and something dark flashed in her eyes. "Okay, new plan. How's about we put the twins down, you forget the laundry, I forget the lunch, and we fool around upstairs until your mother gets here?"
"Hmm. Tempting. Very tempting. But what will we eat at the gardens?"
"We'll pick up some sandwiches on the way."
"Problem solved." I immediately looked down at Lizzie. "Time for bed, baby girl."
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Sara and I did of course run out of sick days and vacation days. Two weeks short of the twins' half birthday. It was either go in or get taken off the payroll. And while it was tempting to do the latter, I think a big part of both of us was and always would be defined by the job. We missed it, and we were ready to get back in the field. So, tucking our girls into bed, and kissing our babies goodnight, we headed off to work. I was a nervous wreck.
"Catherine?"
I stopped tapping my pen against my coffee mug to look across the break room. "Yeah, Nick?"
"You okay?"
"Hmm? Sure. Why?"
He shook his head. "No reason. You just seem a bit…tense."
I glanced at my watch and sighed. I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah, it's just…this is the first time we've left Mattie and Lizzie for more than a couple hours. I trust my mother, of course, but I still feel anxious."
"Why don't you give them a call?"
"I did. Twice. My mother may kill me if I call again."
"What about talking to Sara?"
"She's out in the field. Besides, I'm sure she's going through the exact same thing."
"I'm sure they're fine, Cath. Want to, maybe, take your mind off it for a while? Help me with a re-creation?"
I checked my watch again. Six more hours to go. "Yeah, sounds great."
A few hours later, I was in my office when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in." I took off my reading glasses in time to see Sara shut the door behind her. I smiled. "Hey, sexy. What's cookin'?"
Sara sighed as collapsed on my couch. "My brain."
"Tough case?"
"Not really, just a lot of shit to process. About twenty-five separate sets of prints to sort through. And Grissom had this annoying little intern doing our crime scene photos. He took pictures of everything. I don't know what's the important stuff and what just a normal kitchen tile. I could kill that kid. And on top of that, your mother yelled at me."
"For what?"
"For calling the house so many times when she's trying to sleep."
I smirked. "She's probably ready to strangle both of us."
"I was thinking that on my break, I'd run home and check on everyone. You want to tag along?"
"I think if we're going to do this, we're going to need to make a clean break of it. Mom has taken care of everybody before. There's nothing to worry about. I'm sure that they are all safe and sound." I smiled. "At least, that's what I have to keep telling myself."
"Hmm. What are you working on?"
"Nick brought me in on his case. Weirdest blood spatter at the scene. On the ceiling."
"Oh?"
"Spiral patterns. I'm thinking blender, electric juicer…but we've tried every one we can get our hands on and nothing seems to match quite right."
"Hey, you got a minute?"
"What for?"
She opened her arms from her prone position on the sofa. "Snuggle? If I'm not getting baby hugs on my break, then I could use a fix of Catherine love."
I grinned. Standing and stepping out of my shoes, I approached her. We lay together for several minutes. "Sar?"
"Hmm?"
"How's your shoulder been feeling these days?"
"Great. It aches a bit if I do too much heavy lifting, but otherwise it's fine."
"How about your leg?"
"Even better. It hasn't bothered me in weeks. Why?"
"Well, I was just thinking. You're fully recovered and the twins are at that adorable stage between infant and toddler. The girls are happy. My mother doesn't hate us anymore. I mean, everything has just sort of fallen into place, so if you still want to, maybe it would be a good time to start planning the wedding."
"What wedding?"
I turned to face her, incredulous. "What wedding? Are you kidding me?"
She burst out laughing. "You should have seen the look on your face. Absolutely priceless."
I kicked her in the shin, none too softly.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
"For being an ass! How could you do that to me?"
"Oh, baby, come on. It was just a joke. Of course, I knew you meant our wedding."
"What wedding? You really think I'm going to marry someone who can't take me seriously?"
She moved closer to me and before I could stop her, she nuzzled my neck. "Yep. Somebody has to be able to laugh at you, you take yourself much too seriously. And let's face it. You're just hopelessly in love with me."
I smiled. "Well, you do have that going for ya. Alright. I'll marry you. You still in?"
"What kind of question is that? Am I still in? Cat, it's a wedding not a poker game. And yes, of course, I'm still in. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want everybody in the world to know it."
"See? You go and say things like that and you make it impossible for me to stay mad at you."
"Crafty, ain't it? So a wedding." She giggled.
"Did you just giggle, Sidle?"
"Mmm." She stroked my hair out of my face and kissed me chastely. "There have been a lot of times in my life when I thought I would never get married, either because I didn't believe in it or felt I didn't deserve it." She clamped a hand over my mouth before I even had a chance to open it. "I know now that I deserve it. And I believe in it. I believe in a marriage with you."
"So, it looks like we need a date."
"As soon as possible."
"And a cake."
"Know just the place."
"And someone to oversee the vows."
"Can she be flown in from California?"
"And we need a list of invitees."
"Not to mention flowers."
"We have no shortage of flower girls."
"Where's it going to be?"
"Where are we going to get dresses?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up. Dresses?"
"You want to get married in jeans and t-shirt?"
"Is that an option?"
I quirked an eyebrow meaningfully.
"What about a pantsuit?"
"You want to treat our wedding like a day at the office?"
"No. I'm talking tailored, classy, silk under blouse? I promise something very elegant."
"Whatever. I am having a wedding dress."
"Good, go for it."
"An expensive one."
"Knock yourself out."
"This is going to be the wedding I never had and always deserved and dreamed about."
"As long as there are no swans, ducklings, or any water fowl of any kind. Don't ask. Oh, and I also, in advance, prohibit bagpipes and Celtic dancing."
"Fine, I prohibit nudity and polka bands."
"None of that business with ripping off the garters."
"No Native American chanting."
"This wedding will be in the day time."
"Somewhere green. And with under a hundred guests."
"Ecklie is not invited."
I smiled. "Deal."
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"Oh, look at this one, it's gorgeous."
Nancy turned the twins' double stroller and took a seat on the beige leather sofa in the waiting room. "No offense, Cath, but your back isn't really your greatest feature."
"What? Why not?" I stepped away from the photograph I'd been eyeing on the peach, sponge-painted wall.
"It's just not. You're all freckly. Your shoulder blades and spine stick out."
"Hey!"
"All I'm saying is that perhaps backless is not the way you want to go. But, wait and talk to the designer, don't take my word for it."
"Ga!" I looked down to see Miss Lizzie smiling up at me.
Bending down with my hands on my knees, I returned the expression, my eyes wide and my mouth open. "Hello, beautiful! Who's Mommy's little girl?"
"Aba ada gda!" She agreed with me emphatically, excitedly waving her arms. While Lizzie did her best to be adorable, her brother lay passed out, pacifier in his mouth.
"Hey, Cathy?"
"Hmm?"
"Does the designer we're meeting with know you're marrying a woman?"
I stood, frowning. "Yes. She's a friend of Tim and Larry's. I spoke to her personally. Why?"
"No reason. Just thought that might be an awkward conversation to try and avoid."
"Uh-huh." I returned to looking at the photos up on the wall. I didn't feel like tackling Nancy's ignorance and insensitivity today. Today, like so many days to come, was about me. I wasn't going to let her ruin it for me. I had brought her along because she was my sister and this was supposed to be fun.
Just as I was about move over to inspect the window display, a woman came from behind the curtained doorway on the far wall. She was in her mid forties, with wildly long deep red hair and a loose eggplant toned blouse. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'm designing a dress for the most impossible woman. Calls me everyday wanting to change something and I can never get her off the damn phone." She held out her arms, "Catherine, right?" She wrapped me in a tight hug which I returned. "Joni Burr. It's so nice to finally meet you. Lawrence speaks so highly of you- says you are just the greatest."
I smiled. I liked this woman. She gave off a positive, confident, yet unimposing energy. "Well, you come highly recommended, too. Larry says you're the best."
She waved a hand, "What does that old codger know about it? But I certainly hope I can help you out." There was a squeal from behind me and Joni peered over my shoulder. A wide smile crossed her faced and she moved around me. "Oh, and who are these adorable creatures?"
I beamed proudly as I made my way over to her. "These are the twins. Elizabeth and Matthew, or as I like to call them, my firecracker and my angel boy."
Joni bent low to make faces at a very alert and rambunctious Lizzie. "Hello, munchkin! You are a firecracker, aren't you?"
Lizzie bean was delighted with the welcome attention and chattered away at the designer.
"Oh, they are just adorable! How old?"
"Six months this Thursday."
"Fabulous."
Introductions were made between Joni and my sister, and then we were brought back to an office littered with fabric swatches and crumpled sketches. Just as we sat down, Mattie decided to wake up and demand to be fed.
"Excuse me, one moment?"
"Oh, you can feed him here, darling, it doesn't bother me."
"Thank you." I reached in the back of the stroller and hoisted out the diaper bag. Pulling out a bottle, I also grabbed a teething toy to distract Lizzie. She had a tendency to get jealous of her brother. Taking a seat with Mattie in my arms, I quickly calmed him down with the bottle and turned my attention back to Joni.
"Now, Catherine. As you must know, you have fantastic lines and your bone structure is all but flawless. I could suggest any number of designs for you- you're a dressmaker's dream. What I need to know is what you want in a dress."
"Okay. Well, I want something simple. Elegant. Stylish. Nothing too frilly or lacy- absolutely nothing with a bow on it. Long. Trailing is okay, but I don't want to go overboard. I'll let you be creative with the neckline; I submit to your expertise on that one. Nothing overly revealing, but still something unbelievably sexy. I know there's a fine line between hot and trashy, but I want Sara's eyes to fall out of her head when she sees me. That's about it, I think. Oh, and I don't want shock white. Maybe cream, or even add a little color if you think it's a good idea. Other than that, it's really up to you."
"Well, you're easy to please! Should we discuss material? Then I can draw up some sketches and we can meet up again in a few weeks. When is the big day, may I ask?"
"June sixteenth, provided we can book the park for the date."
"My, my, my. That is soon. That's what? Three months out?"
"Yep. We wanted to get married next month, but nobody would work for a wedding that's that soon. It's the soonest we could manage."
"Eager, are we? Well, alright then, we'll just have to make the calendar work for us."
So the dress went off without a hitch. But the dress was only the beginning. There was the music, the flowers, the flowers girl dresses, invitations, transportation, rehearsal dinner planning, seating arrangements, reception arrangements, hiding the event from Ecklie…and on top of that, Sara just had to go and make it even more difficult.
"Where's the peeler?" she asked, hefting a cucumber.
"Dishwasher. It's clean."
"How thin you want this sliced?"
"I really could care less."
"You know babe, I was thinkin'…"
"Hmm?"
"I think it would be really nice if we wrote our own vows."
I dropped my chopping knife on the counter. "What?"
"I said, I think we should-"
"Yeah, yeah, I heard what you said. Why'd you say it?"
Sara's eyes shifted from side to side. "Because I thought it would be nice…"
"We have so much to do and you want to take time out of our schedule to write our own vows? Sara! We have five kids, we work full time, and we're planning a wedding. Don't you think the stress is running a little high as it is?"
She sighed. "Look, I know it's just one more thing you have to worry about. But I've been going through all the variations of the vows online, trying to find one that fits, and none of them come even close to doing justice to the way I feel about you." She put down her peeler, came up behind me to encircle my waist with her arms. She kissed my neck and I set down my knife again so that I could lean back into her.
"Mmm." I hummed contentedly.
"I just want everything to be perfect. I want you to get your dream wedding, and I want everyone to know how never-ending my love is for you."
I turned my face upwards and kissed her on the mouth. "Damn." I smiled. "When you make it sound all romantic like that, how am I supposed to say no?"
"You're not. I am irresistible."
I turned in her arms and drew mine up around her neck. "Tell me you love me," I whispered, my lips just a breath away from hers.
She met me stare for stare. Her face was deadly serious. "I love you." She kissed me. "I'll always love you." Another kiss. "Your love is the first thing I think about when I wake up each morning." Kiss. "And the last thought in my head as I drift off to sleep with your hand on my chest and your head on my shoulder."
I grinned. "What about when you're getting up at three a.m. to feed Lizzie?"
"Every time I hold her or her brother, I am reminded of what a beautiful person you are and what an unbelievable gift you've given me. And I love you even more."
"What about-" I was silenced by lips crashing upon mine.
She smiled into my mouth, "Don't push your luck, babe."
I rubbed my nose against hers before kissing her passionately once more. Her hands came up to cradle my face, and a moan moved from her mouth to mine. Of their own accord, my hands slipped under her shirt, moving higher as our kiss intensified.
"Ah." Sara jumped a bit as pinched one of her nipples through her bra. "Little minx," she laughed, and moved her hands down to squeeze my behind aggressively. I squealed against her lips before slipping my tongue past their soft barrier.
"I thought you guys were making dinner." Sara and I sprung apart as Lindsey entered the kitchen.
I coughed. "We are. See? The salad's almost done."
"Yeah, right. Mom, I saw what you were doing with your hands. They were nowhere near the salad." She looked narrow-eyed at Sara and shook her finger. "Same goes for you, missy. I hope you wash your hands. I do not want Mom's butt cooties all over my cucumber and tomatoes." She looked at me. "I had to change Lizzie's diaper. You owe me a dollar." With that, she spun around and disappeared.
Thoroughly chastised, Sara and I resumed our posts at the counter top. As I chopped the tomatoes, I shook my head. "Is it just me or is that girl getting sassier every day?"
"It's definitely not your imagination. I think seventh grade has morphed her into a full fledged preteen."
"Great. That's just what we need. Two in diapers and a hormonal teenager."
"Just think. In seven years we'll have three hormonal teenagers and two second graders."
"You really know how to cheer a girl up."
"So are we going to write our own vows? Please?" I could tell by her voice that she was making the pathetic pouty face that I couldn't resist.
"Oh, fine. I guess I'll just have to think of something. You have to know in advance though; I am nobody's poet and I'm pretty sure I could never put what I feel for you into words."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Yeah, yeah. Just get on that cucumber, will you?" I shut my eyes and shook my head. "Don't say anything, Sidle. That's not what I meant and you know it. Pervert."
"I didn't say anything. You're the one that said something. But now that I think about it, maybe we should just save this for later, eh?"
"Like hell."
So now we had to write our own vows and I had no clue as to how I would manage that. What was I supposed to say? Could I just say that I loved her and wanted to marry her? That I'd never been more certain of anything in my entire life? But Sara. Always the overachiever. She would undoubtedly quote famous people, be completely articulate, and find the absolute perfect thing to say. Should it be long? Short? I didn't see the point in drawing it on and on, but I didn't want mine to be disproportionate to Sara's either. It remained a mystery.
I went through dozens of drafts as the weeks went by. Anytime I had a free moment at the lab, anytime I was ignoring my paperwork, I would be writing. Looking up words in the online dictionaries and thesauri. But every time I tried to make it fancy, it stopped sounding real. Stopped sounding like something I would say. And if this was going to be anything, it should be the truth, exactly the way it was. In the end, I did come up with something that I liked a lot and was proud of. It might not be as elaborate as Sara's, but it would work.
The days flew by, and things fell into place. The RSVPs were pouring in, the minister was flying in special from San Francisco, as were a number of other people. The flowers were under control- calla lilies, of course, white with purple centers, and orange with yellow and red centers. The music had been difficult to organize because Sara and I have such different tastes, but finally we decided on a live band. Old friends of Warrick's. Jazz and blues plus a few old standards.
The girls, three of them, would be my flower girls. Ayla would wear a sea green dress, Maggie, a lavender one, and Miss Elizabeth would be in a pearly pink. Lindsey was a little old to be a flower girl, so she got to be my maid of honor. Her dress was silver and blue, just like the ones Nancy and Maureen would be wearing.
Organizing the wedding party was tricky, too. I would be the one walking down the aisle, and Sara would be waiting for me. That's just the way it happened in both of our minds, no question. Though Sara was in no way 'the man' in our relationship, that's just the way we wanted it. We would concede that Sara would walk down the aisle a good few minutes ahead of the wedding party and she would have an escort. We also wanted the boys to be involved in the ceremony. As ushers. Or men of honor. Or whatever. In any case, it worked out perfectly because we had Lindsey, Mo, and Nancy, and we had Greg, Warrick, and Nick. They could all walk down the aisle together. But then there was a problem. Grissom.
There had been a point in my life when I would have wanted nothing more than to have Gil Grissom escort me down the aisle. At one time, I would not have had a single issue with him being the best man to my future spouse. But those days were gone. We barely spoke anymore, outside of work. And we probably would have talked even less if we weren't putting on a good face for Sara who was determined to fix everything.
It was Sara who asked him to take her down the aisle and to be her man of honor/best man person. I couldn't be there. Sara really wanted it to happen, and I wanted to make her happy. But to say I had a problem with Grissom standing behind Sara throughout our wedding ceremony would be a serious understatement. She somehow convinced him to do it, though. And that, as they say, was that.
As for my dress. It was the most beautiful creation I had ever seen. It was the color of milk, and just as satiny smooth. An off the shoulder neckline that hinted at something more but never let it show, it fit my body like a glove. High slits up both sides allowed for movement and showed off just the right amount of leg. And my favorite feature; it hung luxuriously off my hips and the back lengthened to puddle the opalescent material around my feet. Like some Grecian goddess. It was perfect. Sara would go nuts.
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So? The long awaited wedding is just around the corner, but what will happen after that? I have a bit planned out, but if you'd like to see something happen, just let me know and I'll take it into account.
Do I deserve a little something for getting this up so quick? You have no idea how much I value your opinions and thoughts.
Oh, and, thanks to Buckster, we now have the anonymous review thing enabled. So if you don't have an account, or you're too lazy to log in, or, if for some creepy reason you don't want me to know your identity- maybe you're an international spy, say; you can still leave a review! Hope that helps.