"Thank you, Lou, for dinner, for … everything," Catherine stated, pushing her half-finished bowl of soup away from her. "I'll pass on the dessert."
"You're welcome. It's no trouble. Like I said, whatever you need, I'm here," Lou replied, clearing their dishes from the table. He continued their conversation while he cleaned up at the sink. "The bedroom is prepped for you. I brought your bag in there for you, and you know where to find the fresh towels in the bathroom."
"Will you join me?" she requested, "Hold me?"
Her request was reminiscent of a child seeking comfort from a parent after a nightmare. Except turning on the lights and looking under the bed wouldn't ease her nightmare – her child was gone. "Of course," he replied, "go ahead and start getting ready for bed. I'll be there shortly."
He found her curled up on top of the blankets, facing away from the door. She had changed into a tank top and shorts. He took a moment to admire her beautiful frame before stripping to his boxers and resting beside her. "This okay?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.
She nodded and twisted to give him a brief peck on the lips. "Thank you," she replied, nestling further into his arms.
"Try to get some sleep," he coaxed into her ear, "Don't be afraid to wake me if you need me."
He woke to a thud and a slight curse of "Dammit!" He outstretched his arm to search for the voice's owner, yet the bed was empty. "Catherine?" he called.
Her head unceremoniously perked up from the floor, only her eyes and tousled hair visible above the mattress. "Haven't done that in a while," she muttered, pulling herself up off of the floor and back into bed.
Lou peeled back the covers and wrapped her into a cocoon. "Remember that time in Virginia when you reached for the alarm and face planted?" Lou chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, "I had to hold peas to your face because I was worried you'd given yourself a shiner."
"Very funny, Copper," she said sternly, poking his chest in time with her words, "maybe you're the one who's been pushing me out of bed. Trying to kill me."
"If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you a long time ago," he playfully retorted without thinking.
She recoiled and went silent. "I'm sorry," Lou whispered into her ear, holding her tighter in his arms.
"You were kidding, I know," she sighed, "I used to say that to Linds when she'd accuse me of trying to kill her with cooking, rules, love…"
Lou paused to let her reminisce in silence before kissing her neck and saying, "Let's try to get some more sleep."
Catherine closed her eyes again, yet all she could see were memories of Lindsey painting the darkness of her mind.
Lou woke alone again, Catherine's side of the bed cool to the touch. He proceeded through his morning ritual, giving himself time to clear his head and prepare for helping Catherine through the day.
Showering, his thoughts drifted to when he had last seen Catherine at Thanksgiving. It had been his third trip to Virginia, and though they were only able to spend a few days together, she had been so happy with his company. They had haphazardly pieced together a holiday meal that ended in Lou carrying her off to bed when she complained about the preparation of his buns. "I'll show you buns," he had teased and kissed the smirk off of her face before making love to her.
When they were together, they fell into being a couple so easily. They traded banter, spoke of the day's trials, and had a hard time keeping their hands off of each other. However, when their visits came to a close, being a couple was more difficult. Their future was in the process of being defined, and the prospect of separating was a subject that made them both uncomfortable. He was looking into possibilities of transferring to Virginia, yet it was taking time for him to become comfortable with the idea and they still had some differences to work out. He sighed – some days, it was just easier to stay in bed with his love in his arms.
Ending his shower, Lou pushed his thoughts of past visits aside. This visit was unlike any other. Catherine had lost her daughter, and she needed him to help her make it through the long days ahead. Their past discussions would wait.
Ruffling his hair and donning sweatpants and a t-shirt, Lou padded out to the living room. His first sight was a giant game of memory, with pictures taking the places of the cards. Nearly 100 pictures had been laid out, each depicting milestones in Lindsey's life. His eyes passed over Lindsey's first steps, first day of school, prom, musical performances, other occasions with friends and family. His eyes continued across the grid until he found Catherine standing at the unfinished corner of the grid, reliving another memory in her hands. "When I moved Lindsey into her dorm," Catherine stated, turning the picture around for him to see.
He hadn't realized she had noticed his presence. "She didn't want me to take the picture," she continued, "It wasn't cool to have mom in the dorm."
Catherine bent to place the picture into the grid, then returned to shuffling through the albums she had stacked on the side table. She found another memory and held it for him to see. "These are the last pictures I have of her from the summer when we went to see a show together. She had given me her typical groan of 'Mo-om' when I asked someone to take this picture, but she was trying to be funny. She was growing up," she said wistfully, placing the picture into the grid.
She was talking. "This is healthy," Lou thought. To keep the conversation going, Lou replied, "Remember when you told me that you thought she had given you the slip and left you to make it back to the hotel on the subway by yourself?"
Catherine gave a small smile with the memory. "She watched me panic for a minute, then popped out from behind a corner to drag me to a coffee shop that she was excited to show me." She shook her head slightly. "Always giving me a hard time."
Catherine surveyed all of the pictures before her. Satisfied that the necessary pictures had been laid out, Catherine closed the albums. "I couldn't sleep," Catherine stated, seemingly providing justification for her actions, "I had packed these, and I needed to keep myself busy with something."
"How long have you been up?" he inquired.
"A while," she replied, not wanting to go into the detail that she had been up since he had fallen asleep, "Can we get some foam board later today to mount these? They need to go to the funeral home."
He accepted Catherine's deflection, knowing she'd likely have trouble sleeping. "Sure. Breakfast?"
Her hands moved to her hips. "You know, I only eat this well when you're around."
"Maybe I should be around more often," he returned, heading to the kitchen before she could reply.
"Indeed, you should," she thought, keeping her comments at bay and dropping to the couch to wait for breakfast. She wouldn't start a conversation she wasn't in the frame of mind to finish.
He kept breakfast light with oatmeal and orange juice. Despite the small amount he had put into her bowl, she was picking at it before she was halfway through. "Add trouble eating to trouble sleeping," he mentally noted, wanting to keep an eye on her, "Best not to push it now."
He opted to update her on his progress. "I finished making all of the phone calls that you requested. Everyone sends their condolences of course."
Catherine nodded, showing more interest in picking at her oatmeal than having conversation.
"A couple folks from the lab would like to stop by." She furrowed her brow, but he pushed on. "Brass, Nick, Sara, Grissom. Maybe some others."
"I – I don't know," she hesitated. She had requested to be left alone.
Lou broached the subject carefully. "Cath, I know we didn't talk about this yet, but I'm going to need to go in to work tomorrow and Wednesday so I can be with you Thursday and Friday." She finally met his eyes and all he could see was sadness. "I think you might want some company while I'm away."
She held her stare at him, yet didn't reply, so he babbled, "I did the best I could to get the days off on short notice."
He watched her eyes flash from sadness to anger. Absent a way to bring her daughter back, she lashed out at him. "Well, I'm sorry I couldn't schedule my daughter's death for a more convenient time!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew they were unfair. Her hands covered her mouth as if to push the words back in. She didn't mean what she said. Lou's features were marred with hurt, which only fed her spiraling feeling of losing control. Her breaths came in pants as she panicked. She abruptly stood and glanced toward the front entrance. "I'm – I'm going for a walk," she stuttered and fumbled toward the door.
Lou sprung from the table and followed her. His mind shouted, "Fix this! Calm her down!" "Catherine," he pleaded, his words spouting in a frenzied jumble, "Catherine – you don't need to go – it's my fault – I keep saying the wrong things – you're hurting..."
Embarrassed, she rushed to grab her cell phone and keys, blocking out the chaos she had caused around her. She couldn't face him, so she spoke at the door, "I need to clear my head. Give me an hour. I'll be back."
Lou knew he lost her when she had the door open before he could reply. "Okay," he said in defeat as the door slammed behind her.
"Dammit!" he yelled, taking out his frustration by slamming his fist down on the table. Their breakfast dishes rattled with the jumble of thoughts in his mind. "Dammit!"
He was left with an overwhelming feeling of "Omigod, what did I do?"