A/N Thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews and support. I am trying to stay with my weekly posting but next week might be a little tough. I'll do my very best. If you reading this on LJ there is linkage to Sara's dress. If you aren't it's the dress that Angelina Jolie wore to the Mr. And Mrs. Smith premier.

Cookies to Jennifer and Michelle.

Sara

The breakfast with Jim went very well considering it was the first time I actually met any of Gil's friends. Of course the mood was more settled by the fact that Jim kind of knew me and already had a pretty good opinion of me.

Jim's a very nice man, but he still got Ellie as a kid. Doesn't seem fair. He got Ellie and I got Cain Sidle. Seems like the universe should have flipped that around and put us together. What's that saying? Mine is not to reason why. Sister Mary used to tell us that everything happened for a reason. I don't entirely believe that and I doubt Sister Mary did either. Still, you need something to hold on to when nothing makes sense.

That reminds me, I haven't been to Mass in weeks. Gil said he and Jim probably would be gone until late. St. Peter's is only two blocks from here, so I think I can squeeze in noon Mass.

I should probably tell Gil about my church thing. He'd probably think it was weird. Face it, it is weird. My mom calls herself a natural spiritualist, and that's cool-for her. Me, I need a little more structure. When to stand, when to kneel, that exact line for right and wrong. Even if I spent most of my life on the wrong side, at least I have a boundary. I'm not really Catholic. I mean, I haven't done the whole conversion thing. I was about to-until I met Gil.

I wonder if God is mad at me about the Gil thing? I don't think so. At least, I hope not. Maybe I'll get a sign. Maybe I already have a sign. Gil is very good to me and I try to do the same by him.

We haven't had a fight-yet. There's one brewing, I'm sure. He's used to women falling all over him, swooning and such. And well, that's just not me. I think he needs...assurances. But I don't know what else to do. I'm here, right?

I'm going to have to tell him something, because Sister Mary has been looking for me. I sent her a text message last night telling her I was okay. Her reply was that she needed to see my face and THAT man's face. The woman must have God on speed dial, I tell you.

I don't know what I am going to tell Gil. "Hey babe, your religious, almost Catholic mistress and the nun that's looked out for her since she first ended up homeless, because her brother was long gone and her mom had killed her dad, would like to have lunch with you. How's Friday? Margo's usually has a lovely fish on Friday."

This is the guys' day out, apparently. Golf. Beer. Dinner with some pals from work and more beer. That leaves me here alone for hours, which is fine 'cause I do have things to do. Gil said I could Kelly and have her come over. He knows this A&P thing is worrying the shit out of me. Kelly is probably the only way I can even pull a "B" from this class. He thinks it's funny that I might make a "C" in a class. I told him it was soooooo not funny. When I asked him if he'd ever made a "C" he told me he had, but he didn't volunteer which class.

I resisted the urge to snoop for about three minutes. Who was I kidding? I needed to get a look at what's her face. Yeah I know about her: Alana Marino.

I'd seen a picture of her and Gil before we got together, in the newspaper. They were at the season opening of the ballet. I remember thinking she was very pretty, but that's about it.

I carefully rifled through the papers on his desk. He does charge people a crap load of money. I'm so getting those Cole Haun's. Then I did a quick sweep of his closet, which yielded a gold hinged, mahogany box. It looks like an antique, but what do I know?

There are pictures from two vacations, one somewhere in Europe. One shows her wearing a tiny red bikini. She's at least a decade older than me and my breasts never looked like that. It makes me feel better to believe they aren't real, even if they are. She doesn't have a beer belly either. Just one of those ridiculously flat stomachs that I've never had. . In one picture she's bundled up in a long fur coat, standing in front of what looks to be the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, with her arm around Gil. He isn't looking at the camera, but at her. Maybe they weren't really in Paris. Maybe they were just in Vegas, at the fake Eiffel tower. Self delusion is sometimes self preservation.

There's some more stuff, cards and a few letters (that I can't bring myself to read) that she sent while she was doing work in England. She does something with art. It's clear from the letters and pictures that Gil was very, very serious about this woman. Like almost married her serious. They were together for two years and lived together for a time.

Gil's only mentioned her twice. Once when I complimented him on a pair of silver cuff links he was wearing. "My ex girlfriend Alana gave them to me."

The other time was when I stupidly asked him if he'd ever been in love. I have no idea why I asked that, but it was certainly information I didn't need.

"I loved Alana very much."

"What happened?"

"Some people shouldn't be together."

I had just learned about the thermite reaction in class that week, and was about to make a joke about it. But he looked all wounded and hurt, so I decided better of it.

I'll bet Alana has parents that went to college and siblings that she can actually call up on the phone. I'll bet her passport is stamped with so many countries she's got to get a new one. This woman, this Sophia Loren lookalike that stares back at me, is the kind of woman men like Gil fall in love with. I can't muster any significant jealousy 'cause it makes so much sense; Gil and this woman. Of course he loved her, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

He's taking me to the season opening of the ballet I picked out a black leather dress on my own without Marge. Until I saw these pictures it seemed like a good choice. It's buttersoft and fits me like a second skin. I thought it was young, hip and just this side of movie star elegant. Exactly what I needed to make my debut on Gil's arm. Now I wonder if my dress is...skanky. I don't want to embarrass Gil. I never, ever want to do that. I want him to be proud of me-always. I'll ask Kelly when she comes over.

I put the pictures back. I put the box back in the closet and got up to call Kelly.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kelly is crying. What the fuck?

"Do I look that bad? Do you think I've got time to find something else?"

She shakes her beautiful blond head and wipes her pert nose. "No! You just look so great. My mom would have loved you. She would have taken us to lunch and let you borrow her jewelry and she would have just thought you were the greatest. She would have called you edgy. Mom loved edgy."

This is the first time Kelly has ever really talked about her mother.

Kelly is blond and fluffy and she wears pink a lot. Her dad is a CEO of some internet company that went public about six years ago. He made a bunch of money and it's just him and Kelly, now. Her mom died of breast cancer when she was 16. I think maybe that's why she wears pink all the time, but I don't know for sure.

She ended up SVJC on account of her bulimia. She started the throwing up right after her mom died. Her aunt came to stay for a few weeks and kept telling her she was fat. When her dad found out what was going on, he threw the aunt out. But by then it was too late. Kelly had already lost 15 pounds and was spiraling out of control.

She showed up at the learning center three weeks after school started, begging Dare, the Indian guy that works there, to help her with calculus. And then, right out of the blue, she announced that I was going to be her friend.

At first I thought she was looking for help with her classes. But Kelly's pretty smart. It doesn't come naturally like it does with me or Gil. But she's a hard worker who has a natural curiosity about everything. That worries me a little because, well, that's going to lead to questions about my parents.

But here she is crying, saying how much her mother would love me. I don't know what to do, exactly. So, I sit next to her on the couch and pat her shoulders, which seems to make her cry harder. I don't know if that's necessarily bad.

People need to mourn. Sometimes you mourn actual people like Kelly is doing. And sometimes you need to mourn a particular period of your life and all the hopes and dreams you had. I would never say this to Kelly, because really it's not something you say to people, but she's very lucky to have all these great memories of her mom; to have had a regular childhood.

She didn't have to hide under the bed or sit in the ER with her mom week after week because her dad beat the shit out of her. She had a good life with her mom. It might not have been a long life, but it was good.

She's sniffling now and staring at me very weirdly. "You are the first grown up girlfriend I've ever had."

"Well-thanks."

OOOOOOOOOO

Gil is standing in front of us before I can register that he's come through the back door.

"Where's your phone?" He says softly and I flip around and point to the counter.

He lets out a breath like he does when he's nervous. "It's off."

"Oh," I say.

He's eying Kelly, and I wonder if this is just a ruse to check her out. I have talked about her a lot and she is blonde and has those tits and all. She gives him a wave and he nods his head.

"A guy shot two people in the campus library." He pauses and gives a pointed look at Kelly. "Two white females."

"Oh!" I say, not daring to look him quite in the eye. Kelly's phone starts to ring. It's her dad. After a round of "I love yous" and "I'll be home early," she hangs up.

Gil hugs me close. His beard scratches my face and I giggle. "I'm okay. I'm bullet proof." I can't bring myself to look at him. I'm pretty sure I'm blushing.

After a few seconds the gentleman in him surfaces and he extends a hand to Kelly, his fingers still digging in my side.

"Gil Grissom."

"Kelly Goodman."

"I am going to get some work done," Gil says.

After the bedroom door closes, Kelly is full of whispers and laughter . "So, that's your old man? No wonder you're keeping him under wraps."

"Um, he's not exactly my old man. I mean we aren't married or anything."

"I saw him on CNN the other night." Kelly says like she just found out a terrific secret. "He's on that Court TV and he's the bug guy on 'Dr. Pam: Medical Examiner.'"

"Yeah." I work hard not to smile. "He's a pretty smart guy."

"You guys are going to have genius babies with crazy hair." She makes an air halo with her hands.

"You'll spend a ton on conditioner and private schools."

"We aren't going to have ANY babies."

Kelly just grins and reaches for her Coke.

TBC