Cottonwood House III

The Hand You're Dealt

Disclaimer: No, CSI: still isn't mine. *sigh*

Chapter 2

Catherine

The rising numbers on the elevator indicator panel may as well be linked to my blood pressure. What does Lindsay think she's doing? Half her guests seem to have arrived, using the passenger elevator, since she left on her little excursion, they're all here to celebrate her birthday, most of them with gifts, and she's not here to greet them.

What on Earth can she be up to? The elevator went down to basement level, waited less than five minutes and now it's on its way back up, with no sign of stopping in between on either trip. Surely she isn't thinking she can get away with sneaking some of her friends in? We're hardly an easy group for any of her classmates to merge into; there are less than a dozen of us, mainly middle aged or getting there, and all trained observers, mostly CSIs past and present, plus one slightly jaded detective.

I may not know what my daughter's plan is right now, but I do know that, when she gets here, birthday or not, one young lady is going to get a piece of my mind. Huh, 'young lady' indeed, she better not try to claim that turning sixteen makes her a grown up after pulling this stunt.

I run my hand through my hair, pulling it back from my face. I need to calm down, if Lindsey isn't going to put an effort into making today go well then I'm going to have to do it. I just wish I had Gil Grissom's legendary composure right now.

How many times has Gil talked me down from situations like this in the past? He'd often tell me to try not to judge Lindsey too harshly, especially when he didn't think I had gathered all the 'facts'. Sometimes I needed to remind him that if anyone knows my daughter it's me. Occasionally I'd be so mad at his interference that I'd throw the fact he's never been a parent in his face. I don't know if that hurt him or not, but he always had my back while I tried to cope as a single Mom, as well as Lindsey's. Oh, how I miss that calm, steady, voice of reason.

OK, one more floor, I brace myself for whatever Lindsey's about to throw at me. Whatever it is I'll need to deal with it quickly to avoid it spoiling everyone else's day.

After the elevator doors slide open it takes me a moment to get my brain to adjust to the new situation. I thought I was ready for anything Lindsey could possibly have come up with, but I still wasn't prepared to see Gil Grissom rolling towards me with his new trademark grin in place.

As always now, when we meet, Gil demands a hug. His manner may be more relaxed these days and some of his behaviour almost childlike at times, but he is just as wise and perceptive as always. As we part his eyes tell me he knows exactly what I've been thinking and, from the way his lips are pursed as he tries hard not to laugh, he's highly amused by it all.

Or maybe he's just pleased with himself for being here at all.

You see, the reason it didn't even occur to me that Gil might come to this party is that I thought it would be too much for him to cope with.

As Sara comes forward to share her own hug with the new arrival I am reminded that only a little over six weeks ago Gil had to take a break from his therapies and rest completely for several days when the stresses brought on by his former fiancée's return pushed him over the edge into utter exhaustion. It wasn't Sara's fault, how could she be expected to know what Gil can or can't deal with when the rest of us are still learning, including him? She must be having enough trouble just dealing with her own reaction to his problems. She's right at the beginning of something that I'm not even certain has an end, a process both like and unlike grieving. Mostly I cope by following Gil's own lead and staying in the present, doing my best to be a good friend to the new Gil and trying to do the old Gil's job in a way that would make him proud. There are times when I'm still caught up in strong emotions though, and I do my best to avoid remembering the traumatic events of two years ago. To my shame that resulted in my failure to give Sara any warning before she was reunited with her former lover and that must have made the shock far more terrible.

Sara has learnt to be a little less full on with him already. Now she's said hello, kissed him on the cheek and whispered something in his good ear she has stepped away and gone to join some of the others. As for the rest of the team, Greg is wandering over to say 'hello', but the others are holding back, because they've learnt that it's better not to swamp him all at once.

With Greg distracting Gil I take my chance to pull Lindsey aside and ask her why she didn't tell me her 'Uncle' was coming. After all there are all kinds of arrangements that I should have been making to accommodate him. I'd also have put an end to any ideas about a pool party. I always knew Jim Brass would end up hovering around too embarrassed by his middle age spread to want to join in with the swimming and I'm sure that Gil will be even more reluctant. He wasn't really into those kinds of games before, but I know he'll hate having to sit watching the others be active now that it's no longer his choice whether or not he joins in.

"Mom, just relax, please? Lucy and I have Uncle Gil's needs covered, and it's not like nobody else is helping. The guys from the hotel are paid to make sure no-one gets hungry or thirsty, everyone who should be is here now and, in spite of how you all know each other, this is my birthday party, not a work social, and I don't want everyone worrying that they have to be on their best behaviour because your face says you're in full 'boss' mode. At least try and look as you're having fun or it won't just be the guys who've volunteered to cover tonight's shift who'll be getting ready to leave early."

Looking around I realise Lindsey's right. Already Lucy is setting her bag down where a pair of sun-loungers and a parasol shaded circular table have been conveniently placed, without me noticing, between the pool and the disabled bathroom and changing facilities. Thinking about it, I saw Lindsey pointing in that direction and talking to Nick, just before I got distracted by seeing her call the service elevator. Perhaps I've underestimated her a little, because I probably wouldn't have come up with that idea for bringing Gil up here to the roof.

"Hey, Birthday Girl," interrupts Greg, "Grissom wants you. I think he wants to be first to start handing over your presents."

Always the material girl, Lindsey is off at once. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Lucy stop what she's doing and focus a watchful eye on Gil, who is encouraging my daughter to remove a flattish rectangular package wrapped in coloured paper from the bag slung on the back of his wheelchair. While he watches, a hopeful smile on his face, Lindsey opens the gift, examines it, and then lifts her head to ask a question. The response is a nod and a widening of the smile, and my 'grown up' daughter, after placing the present carefully on a nearby table, practically climbs onto Gil's knees in order to give him a grateful embrace.

Satisfied that Gil hasn't been upset by a lacklustre reaction to his gift, Lucy goes back to what she was doing and I wander nearer to see what made Lindsey produce such an enthusiastic reaction.

At first I can't see why the gift has caused so much pleasure. Lindsey hasn't been a big fan of jigsaws since she was a young child, and this is a puzzle of Degas' 'The Dance Class', made of wood instead of cardboard and only about a hundred fifty pieces. Admittedly it's been completed and is nicely framed, but...

"Uncle Gil put it together all by himself!"

Lindsey bounces back to my side and takes the picture from me. Now I understand. Gil has been doing jigsaws as part of his occupational therapy, as a way to improve his hand/eye coordination, now he's been forced to become left-handed. Clearly the image was particularly chosen for Lindsey, but what makes the gift so touching is the time that Gil must have put into it. I can tell that my daughter will always treasure it for that reason alone.

Proudly, my very-nearly-sixteen-year-old takes her present over to the table where I had organized that she would open and display any presents she got today. Now that Grissom has kicked proceedings off the party gets underway and more presents soon come Lindsey's way but, even from this distance, I can see that everyone is expected to admire Gil's gift before she even starts to open the new one they are giving her.

While I'm checking that the buffet and grill are under control and the vegetarian options I ordered have been included, I notice that Jim Brass is hovering around, his hands shoved into the pockets of the long shorts he's wearing. This is one of the reasons I wanted Lindsey to have this party somewhere else. Then Jim could have kept himself busy by taking the traditional male role of barbecue chef, but here we have to let the hotel staff handle it, because the management aren't keen to be sued if someone gets burned. As a shareholder I can definitely see their point.

Which brings me to another reason why I wanted to avoid coming here, one which I didn't want to try and explain to Lindsey. Even though I didn't know that Sam Braun was my father for very long before he died, which was several years ago now, somehow he has managed to exert control over me and my family ever since.

Rarely unprepared, Sam's murder didn't mean that he died without an up to date Will, written with great attention to detail. Most of Sam's holdings were sold off to settle debts and set up trust funds, including one for my daughter, but he left me shares in this casino hotel, his final triumph. I can't even sell any of them until ten years after his death, although at least he had his lawyer make sure that holding them doesn't compromise my career. Cunningly Sam made sure that the shares give me benefits that make it hard to justify spending money on having gatherings like today's anywhere else but here, where we'll be reminded of him. Even though it can be very useful at times, like when I pulled strings to get Sara a free room here at the Eclipse, I can't help feeling resentful of his manipulations.

Lindsey's trust fund is governed by rules that mean any pay outs have to fund or reward 'positive' achievements. Still, at least he stuck to covering things like driving classes and a college place, not her first job as a show girl, shady business deal, or worse.

Speaking of which, at least we're not the only ones. Sam felt partially responsible when one of my half-brothers killed the other, but that doesn't mean surviving son, Walt, will automatically inherit. He'll only benefit if he gets released from jail early for good behaviour, and then he'll get his share as an income that will vanish if he ever breaks the law again.

My father was a control freak and hypocrite, right up to his death and beyond.

The first splashes can be heard from the pool behind me just as Jim is telling me that he'll be happy to keep Gil company while the younger guys have their fun. Suddenly he stops talking and stares over my shoulder towards the water.

"You know, Catherine, after beating so much else, I don't think Gil's prepared to let little things like age and vanity hold him back. Just take a look at that."

Gil, with a T-shirt on over a pair of swimming shorts, is already heading into the pool. My daughter was right about there being no lack of help from the people who care about him. Although Gil is walking on his own, his forearms are resting on Warrick's while the tall man walks backwards in front of him and Nick is walking behind the pair, alert for any sign of a loss of balance. Looking almost like a precious toddler and his attentive parents, the trio slowly make their way down the shallow steps that make the inner curve of the crescent shaped pool until Gil is in deep enough water to start swimming.

Now I finally understand why Lindsey was so insistent on having a pool party. On land Gil's movement related issues are obvious but in the water it only takes a single specially designed glove for him to be able to get around almost as easily as everyone else. Once again I realise that my daughter has been more thoughtful then I gave her credit for, the inflatable floating chair she was so insistent on is not a throne for the birthday princess, it, together with the submerged seats of the poolside bar, mean that when Gil wants a break from swimming he can have a rest or a drink without going to the effort of dragging himself out of the pool.

"Well, that's that then." Jim's voice interrupts my thoughts. "There goes my idea of sitting and drinking a few beers with Gil, watching the youngsters having fun. We might even have got waiter service. I guess the quickest way I'm going to get served now is if I get in there and make a fool of myself with the rest of them." Jim pats me on the arm. "If you can't beat them, join them. It's time for us old fogeys to get wet.

Old fogies indeed! Jim and Gil may be the only ones here who are old enough that Lindsey still calls them 'uncle', but I am a good few years younger than them and at least I'm already in my swimwear. Of course you can never be entirely sure if Jim Brass is being serious or just teasing, his ability to push people's buttons is one thing that has made him so very effective when questioning suspects. Still, I suppose it's time to take off my sarong and, as my daughter likes to put it, 'chill'. I just want to speak to one other person first.

Lucy seems to share Gil's uncanny ability to be fully aware of everything that's going on while having his head stuck in a book. Even though she seems engrossed in her novel, Lucy looks up as soon as I approach. I'm sure this also means that she knows exactly what's happening with Gil right now even though she doesn't appear to be watching.

"You're wondering if this is a good idea, aren't you?"

Lucy's perceptiveness allows her to deal with Gil's communication problems really well, but it can be disconcerting when it's applied to me.

"Is it?"

"Gil seems to think so."

I smile at that. Looking at the pool I can see Gil comfortably floating on his inflatable chair, a soda in his left hand, and flanked by a pair of blondes. On his right Riley has introduced herself and appears to be chatting with Gil as though they're having a regular two-way conversation. Lindsey, holding onto the chair on Gil's deaf side, seems happy to listen, kicking occasionally to stop the two of them from drifting out of the shadier half of the pool.

"I still wish Lindsey had checked with me before inviting him."

"She checked with me." Lucy informs me matter-of-factly.

"And you told her it wouldn't hurt for him to come?"

"I told her it wouldn't hurt for her to ask him. Whether Gil came or not was his choice."

"But Gil would do anything Lindsey asked him to and after..."

"And you don't think that Gil is fully aware of, and complicit in, that?"

Lucy cuts me off mid flow. I tend to forget that, in spite of the relatively short time since they first met, she knows Gil as well as I do. Maybe better, I find myself admitting, because her perception of him now isn't distorted by memories of his past. She's right, of course, now that I think of it, no one as stubborn as Gil is capable of being would allow a teenager to manipulate him, unless he was being deliberately indulgent.

Gil's carer takes pity on me.

"Catherine, believe me, before he finally accepted Lindsey's invitation, Gil and I went through this in great detail. He balanced the thought of disappointing Lindsey against the probabilities of him having problems that might spoil tonight for her, or making her feel guilty if he suffers later as a result. "That's why Lindsey didn't let you know Gil was coming, by the way, so don't blame her. Gil didn't want many people expecting him to be at the party so that he didn't have to worry about them being upset if he had to cry off at the last minute. Even Lindsey wasn't certain he'd make it until I called her to say we were leaving Cottonwood House to come here.

"Gil's a grown man, Catherine; whatever his health issues are, he's able and entitled to make his own decisions. If I don't think something's a good idea I might try and talk him out of it but, in the end, the choice is always his. I'm here to enable Gil if he wants to do something, no matter what, I'll do my best to facilitate it, and today he wants to be here."

"But he took such a hit after Sara's return." I'm watching the brunette as I speak, Sara seems unsure about whether or not to join Gil's little 'harem' or let Lindsey and Riley have his attention for now while she joins the men. Gil's emotional collapse on top of the initial shock of seeing him like he is now seems to have left her feeling very unsure of herself where he's concerned. "Shouldn't he be avoiding this kind of stress right now?"

"Maybe, but that's Gil's call. If he feels ready to take the risk then we should support him. If we don't let him push himself he'll never know what he's capable of doing." Lucy stops and touches me on the arm before she continues.

"You're his friend and I know you're concerned about him, but remember why I'm here. I'll keep an eye on Gil, if I think he's struggling, or if he asks for me to help, I'll be at his side straight away. That's why I came here today; I'm not a party guest. It's Lindsey's birthday and you're her Mom, go be with her and have fun, and trust me to do my job."

"Thank you, I will, but just because you don't see yourself as a guest doesn't mean that Lindsey doesn't or that I don't, you're Gil's friend as well as his helper, and that makes you a friend of nearly everyone here too, so come join in."

Lucy still refuses and I guess I see her reasoning; she needs to concentrate on Gil. Something else occurs to me too; with luck Gil may even be able to forget some of his handicaps for a while tonight and having his carer too nearby would make that harder. With a final request that Lucy help herself to food and drink whenever she feels like it, I leave her to her book.

Keeping my sarong in place as long as possible to avoid unflattering comparisons with my own daughter, I finally make it into the pool.