A/N: And a new chapter!
I Keep On Loving You
Chapter 20
The second night at home, Sara went to sleep without her cast propped on a wedge pillow. Instead, Grissom gently gathered her into his arms, placing her fractured leg in its cast over his thigh so they faced each other.
"This is much better," he whispered against her ear.
"It cannot be comfortable for you."
He chuckled. "I'll sleep better than I have in weeks."
"My leg is heavy."
His hand gently stroked her back. "It weighs nothing, dear." He kissed her nose. "Close your eyes. If I wake up before you, I'll put the wedge under your leg.
Sara closed her eyes and pressed her face against the curve of his neck. She had no words to describe how she felt about the man who held her.
For Grissom, the feel of her skin, the way she pressed herself closer to him, nearly snapped the last threads of his control.
Sara woke thinking that was something not quite real—perhaps she was dreaming—in the way she lay in bed. Her head lay on Grissom's shoulder; her fractured arm across his chest. The pale sunlight filtering around the window formed a warm halo around the curly hair on the pillow next to her. She had moved in the night; a pillow curled around her husband's thigh. Her leg rested on the pillow, stiffly sticking up in the air. Grissom's hand rested on her butt.
She thought she had laughed silently at their positions—certainly not what the physicians and therapists had suggested—but she must have made a noise because Grissom's eyes opened instantly. He grinned.
"This is more like it—I'm happy to be home—and I'm happy you are home," he whispered.
It took them a while to get out of bed but eventually they did. Lazy, Sara said. Not lazy, Grissom replied. There was no hurry. And then they remembered the promised visit.
Not long after they were dressed, Nick arrived with a box of breakfast foods from a well-liked Mexican restaurant, enough to feed five or six people. Within minutes tacos and burritos, refried beans and potatoes, and accompanying sauces were spread on the table.
"I know you never get tired of this stuff," Nick said as he helped himself to a burrito.
Sara's answer was a satisfied murmur as she bit into a soft taco.
They talked about finding pure caffeine in the rehab center and discussed what it meant, the next steps to take, and could find no consensus on if a crime had been committed. Nick agreed to contact the water delivery company to track the delivery man in an unofficial way.
"Whatever we decide, we need to meet with everyone at the facility. They need to know—but caffeine is considered a supplement and does not fall under any state or federal regulations like food or drugs; I don't think anyone will consider this as a crime," Grissom said.
A while later, after most of the food had disappeared, Nick pushed back from the table; a solemn frown clouded his face. He said, "I wanted you to eat before I brought bad news."
Slowly, Grissom placed his coffee cup on the table; a finger wiped across his upper lip.
"Who?" Sara asked.
Shaking his head as he fiddled with his fork, Nick grimaced and said, "Tina—it's about Tina. She was brought in last night—swing shift got the call." Wiping a hand over his face, he said, "Tina died last night."
For a few seconds, Sara's mouth fell open. Then she asked, "Eli! Where's Eli?"
"Greg and Jim got Eli as soon as Jim heard."
Grissom asked, "What happened?"
"You should have told me last night," Sara said.
Nick shook his head, saying, "She was partying—bad crowd from what Jim heard—appears to be from an overdose." He shrugged his shoulders so perceptively that Sara knew he was deciding what to say. "She'll get an autopsy and we'll know more."
"I thought she was doing much better. Poor Eli—where was he?" Sara had grabbed his arm.
Raking a hand over his head, Nick said, "That's another issue—Eli was at home—alone." He blinked several times, looked away, and when his eyes returned to meet Sara's, his lashes were damp. "The place is a pig sty, Sara. Poor kid was trying to put together a meal—Jim said he didn't know where his mother was."
"And he went with Jim? No questions?" Asked Sara.
"Seems Jim is on a first name basis with Eli—don't know about Tina—but he was willing—happy to go with Jim."
Grissom sighed. Sara looked at him, tears in her eyes. He picked up his phone. "He's almost seven, right?" He scrolled names until he found Jim Brass.
"Ask Jim to bring him here," Sara whispered.
An understanding grin edged around Nick's mouth, "I knew you would say that, Sara. But—but you—you can't take care of him! You've got weeks of therapy." His hand folded over hers. "Sara, I didn't tell you last night because I knew you needed rest. You can't even get in a car—and I didn't want to tell you over the phone."
Grissom said, "Hello, Jim. We heard you have a visitor."
Nick and Sara looked at each other, unable to hear Jim's part of the conversation.
"Bring him here—we'll figure out something." Grissom made several sounds of agreement before saying, "We'll see you soon."
Sara asked, "Has Eli been told? What about Tina's parents?"
Shaking his head, Nick answered, "Her father died several years ago. Her mother is in a nursing home in St. Louis. Eli," another slight shrug, "Eli hasn't—Jim fed him, let him watch a movie til he fell asleep, and took him to breakfast this morning. He says—according to Eli—the boy hasn't been in school since December."
Grissom had gotten up from the table, disappearing into another room.
"I went by the house several times," Sara said. "Tina looked good. She'd gotten a job, but she was never friendly—never let me in the door." Her chin trembled. "I saw Eli once or twice—playing outside."
Nick nodded. "At Christmas last year and the year before, Greg and I went by, took a few things for Eli but Tina was—was—not too happy we were there. Eli was thrilled—wanted to know about his dad."
"Poor little guy." Sara sighed. "Hard on someone so young to lose both parents."
Grissom returned with a thin folder in his hand. Placing it on the table, he slid it toward Sara. "I never thought I'd be using this. Honestly, what are the chances?"
Nick and Sara glanced up at his enigmatic face; Sara opened the file to find a death certificate for Warrick Brown. She flipped it and found a copy of a will. Her finger ran down the page to the signatures to see "Tina Brown Brewster" and a date of June, 2008. Witness signatures included Jim Brass.
Standing behind Sara, Grissom pointed to the second paragraph.
Quickly, Sara read the paragraph. In the few seconds it took for her to read the lines, Nick watched as her face transformed; a smile tugged at her lips.
"What?" He asked.
"Tina is dead—and, out of this—we get Eli?" She turned to her husband, asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Placing his hand on her shoulder, he sat beside her. "I never thought—I never thought it would come to this. It was a—a formality. One day Tina called and asked if Jim and I would meet her at a lawyer's office. The lawyer was the one who suggested she name a guardian for Eli if something happened to her—so when I got there, she asked and I agreed."
Sara's fingers touched her closed eyes for a moment. "We'll get Eli? You don't think it's been changed? Tina could have changed it."
Leaning over, Grissom kissed her forehead. "I doubt it, but I'll call this lawyer—get things set into motion. We—we'll keep things as simple as possible—for Eli." A hand went to his face, sweeping across in an effort to remove worry.
Bexar pawed at Grissom's knee and, instinctively, he lifted the dog to his lap. He said, "We have nothing here for a little boy. Nick, do you think you could go over—to their house—and pick up some things? Clothes, toys, whatever you think he'll want." His hand patted the dog. "We'll have to do something with the house—clean it up, keep it for Eli—but for now—just—just make sure the door is locked."
Nick realized he had seen a subtle change take place—not just Sara but in Grissom as well. A thought so fleeting he almost missed it bloomed in his mind—a child—Sara wanted a child. Her eyes gleamed with an unusual brightness. He looked at Grissom and realized he was looking at the face of a man who loved his wife. There was some kind of mysterious connection taking place in front of him—something he did not understand—but it was meaningful, momentous as their eyes remained on the other.
As he stood, Sara's eyes left Grissom; she said, "I'll call Catherine—she'll help."
Nodding, Nick said, "I don't think there is much there, Grissom. Greg said the house was a mess."
"There's always something, Nick, that a kid wants—look around his bed," Sara said. She wiped her eyes again. "And clothes—his favorites will be ones that are dirty or worn—faded—and maybe something to sleep with—his pillow."
Nick had to smile. "I'll bring everything I can."
For several minutes, Sara and Grissom sat in silence after Nick left.
Finally, Grissom said, "I never thought about mentioning this because—because," both palms went upward, "I never thought it would happen. Tina was so young!"
"It's okay—fine," Sara made a soft laugh. "We weren't even married then."
With a thoughtful smile, Grissom said, "I don't guess we were." He looked around the room and asked, "What do we do now?"
"Wait—if Eli knows Jim and feels comfortable with him, maybe he should tell him about his mother. But we'll all be together. Eli needs to know he has a place to live—someone to look after him."
Grissom squeezed her hand. "We'll manage."
Sara called Catherine who insisted she would be there as soon as possible. After hanging up, Sara said, "We may overwhelm Eli."
They did not have time to think about that possibility because the doorbell rang and Jim and Eli arrived. The two dogs were the first to greet the boy—tails wagging as if the boy was a life-long friend—and immediately a bond began to develop between boy and dogs—much to the surprise of the two dog owners.
The usually docile dogs met Eli at the door, excited and wary to meet a newcomer; when the child bent on knees to their level, asking in the general direction of the adults if it was okay to play with them, he stroked Sally Sue's head and scratched Bexar's back, giggling as the dogs seemed to realize a boy needed reassurance to be a playmate. In minutes, there was a puddle of white and brown fur mixed with a pair of gangly legs and arms on the floor of the living room.
Brass shrugged, chuckling, before he said, "He's a good kid." He jerked a thumb toward dogs and boy, adding, "And he loves dogs! Who knew?"
In a low voice, Grissom said, "And who knew the dogs loved kids?"
As Eli and the dogs continued to play, Grissom got leashes and two balls and asked if Eli would like to walk the dogs.
"Yes, sir! I've never walked a dog before—but I've seen people doing it." The boy smiled as he gathered Bexar in his arms while Grissom hooked leash to collar.
Sara insisted Jim go with the two. "Catherine is coming. Nick should be back soon. I'll be fine."
For the first time, Eli studied Sara. "Why are you in a wheelchair? I remember you coming to my house."
"I have a broken arm and a broken leg," she explained. "So I'm sort of in a mess—I have to have a lot of help to do things."
Eli smiled. The three adults had a déjà vu moment as the smile of Warrick Brown crossed his son's face. The boy said, "I can help. My mom says I'm good at helping."
A/N: Surprised? Thanks for reading! And we appreciate hearing from you!