Chapter 8
They left early the next morning and traveled the six hours south to Marina Del Rey. They stopped half-way and ate lunch at a small diner. Grissom ordered a BLT on wheat and Sara got a salad. They continued down the coast to the city and Grissom's rented car rolled to a stop in front of a bungalow styled house white house. There was a well manicured front yard with a garden along one side and lacy curtains in the windows. "Here we are." Grissom said as the car stopped. "Ready, honey?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
They got out of the car and made their way to the front door. Grissom went right in and then stopped, "You have to call me Gil, while we're here. She can read lips and will know if you're calling me Grissom."
"Oh, right."
They walked in and found a woman in her 60's sitting down on floral couch arranging tea for three. She looked up when a shadow passed over where she was looking and smiled at her son.
Hello! It's so good to see you Gilbert! I've missed you so much. Is this the girl you told me about? She signed this all in quick succession. Sara looked confused and looked over to Grissom who was signing back her answer and speaking at the same time.
"It's good to see you, too. I missed you as well. Yes, this is the girl, Sara."
"It's good to meet you, Mrs. Grissom." Sara extended a hand to the woman who was watching her lips. The woman grasped her hand in return, smiling.
It's nice to meet you. Gilbert hasn't had many friends, let alone girlfriends. I'm glad to see him with someone so pretty.
Sara looked the woman while Grissom translated for her, "She says, it's nice to meet you. She says that I haven't had many friends—hey! Or girlfriends and that she's glad to see me with someone so pretty—Mother!"
Mrs. Grissom smiled and laughed. It was strange to see a woman who didn't talk laugh. Have some tea. Come in and sit down.
They talked, with Grissom translating, for a while before Mrs. Grissom suggested that they go get some dinner for everyone. Grissom said he wouldn't hear of such a thing and excused himself to the kitchen to begin dinner, leaving Mrs. Grissom and Sara alone. An uncomfortable silent space filled the void between them until--
"You know Gilbert doesn't have to bring a fake girlfriend over to appease his mother," Mrs. Grissom said in the strange tone that deaf people often talk in.
Sara sat, stunned at both the fact that she could talk and at what she said, "He didn't bring a fake girlfriend. I'm a girl and I'm his friend." Mrs. Grissom's eyes narrowed and filled with laughter. "Please don't tell him you know. He was afraid you thought we was gay and that he didn't have friends. We just met, but I consider us friends."
"I'm glad he has someone to call him a friend. As far as being gay, well, I knew he wasn't gay the day I found his box of dirty magazines under his bed when he moved out."
"Well, he still wouldn't like you knowing I'm a fake girlfriend. We can play along until I tell him later, right?"
"Sure, honey."
"What tipped you off?"
"He's never talked about you before. You're awfully pretty to be with him. He's, what, 15 years older than you? Let's just say that it's a mother's instinct."
Grissom finished some spaghetti and they all sat down in the dinning room. It was a while before dinner was finished, with the three of them laughing and talking. Mrs. Grissom told the two that the guest room was all made up and Grissom choked.
"I can stay in my room. Sara can stay in her own room." Grissom sputtered as he tried to change the sleeping arrangements. He didn't realize it, but Mrs. Grissom and Sara were smiling at each other.
No I insist. You are going out. You must share a room.
"Great. Well, I'll clear the table and Sara and I will go to bed." Grissom finally conceded. He did not sound like he thought the idea was all that great. He left and Mrs. Grissom and Sara smiled at each other, knowingly.
Grissom went upstairs with Sara tagging along behind and they arrived the last bedroom, queen sized bed, antique furniture, with lace doileys all around. "My mother has a great sense of style," Grissom rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed."
At this Sara couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing. "Your mom knows. She told me that there's no way that we're together. Something about me being too pretty and a mother's instinct."
"That's just great. So you two were just planning this whole bedroom thing?"
"Yeah. Sorry. I thought it would be less embarrassing if I told you away from her."
"Humph. Well, I'll just excuse myself and sleep in my old room."
"Don't be all mad. She said she didn't think you were gay---magazines under the bed?"
"That's great." Again, Grissom did not seem like he thought things were great. "I'll see you in the morning."
