A/N: So, did Grissom hide his feelings about the baby? Can he work things out with Sara or will Evil hat sneak his way back in? Let's hope not :P
My thanks to calim for the super suggestions and beta and for all your reviews. Please keep them coming :) We are getting towards the end, kinda. Lol.
Chapter 161
Looking into her son-in-law's angry eyes, Laura came to a stop in front of him. "She went upstairs. I knocked on the door but she won't talk to me. She's upset. Can you tell me why?"
Working his jaw from side to side, he kept eye contact. "I'm sure you already know why," he answered firmly.
She frowned then held up a finger. "Watch your tone, young man, and remember who you're talking to," she warned. Looking away, Grissom bit down hard on his bottom lip. "Gil?" He didn't reply. "Look at me," she demanded.
Slowly, his eyes returned to hers. A lump formed in his throat as she stepped closer, her questioning gaze burning into him.
"I thought you'd taken the news about the baby a little too well," she continued. "But what I see in your eyes now…." She paused. "I don't know if I've ever seen this before. Not even when Sara was sick."
Gradually, he unfolded his arms and leaned back a little. "I'm scared," he admitted, his voice so quiet Laura had to strain to hear him. "I just want her to be safe."
"Gil…" She closed her eyes for a brief second before reaching out to pull on his arms, grabbing both of his hands in her own. "You have a right to be afraid and to be protective but you can't let this consume you every second of the day and you can't expect Sara to stop living her life. She isn't stupid or about to be reckless." She paused and held his hands tighter. "I know how much you love her but you need to learn how to deal with this properly and talk to her not dictate."
He inhaled a deep breath. "You don't consider riding a horse in her condition to be reckless?"
"If you were to ask me that question three months from now then, yes, I would consider it reckless. But now? No. Now there is minimal risk."
"But there is a risk," he argued.
She sighed. "There's a risk getting out of bed in the morning or walking down the stairs or crossing a street. You cannot mother her 24 hours a day. She is as independent as you are so tell me how you'd feel if she told you that you couldn't ride your horse? Not requested but demanded."
His mouth opened but no words came out. She squeezed his hands.
"You need to talk to each other and be honest. You've got to come up with a plan that both of you are happy with on how you're going to get through this pregnancy because you can't continue like this."
"I didn't mean to snap at her," he sighed. "But as soon as you told me what she was doing the fear just kicked in."
Laura smiled. "You need to tell her that and work this out because I warn you, stress is a terrible thing for a pregnant woman to contend with. That alone can cause disastrous consequences."
Swallowing hard, he looked toward the stairs and gave a slow nod. "I'll try my best."
She gave a nod back. "Go on then," she urged and he gave her a weak smile before releasing her hand and heading for the stairs.
Slowly he climbed, a wave of guilt passing over him. Reaching the landing he stopped. Yes, he was scared, extremely so and, yes, he still felt he was right in keeping Sara off her horse. But he was smart enough to know he'd approached the situation all wrong, let his fear take over. He should've been more tactful. He'd never been good at talking about his feelings, but he had to do something. He loved Sara too much not to try.
Reaching their room, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then coiled his hand around the door knob. It didn't move. Taking another breath he lightly tapped his knuckles against the wood.
"Sara? Honey, open the door." Not a sound could be heard. He knocked louder. "Sara? I know you can hear me," he insisted. "Open the door."
"Go away!" Sara shouted back. "I don't want to talk to you."
"I'm not going anywhere," he replied. "We need to talk."
"Talk or demand?" she countered bitterly, evident sadness in her words.
He pressed his fist against the door. "Look, my intentions were for the right reasons I just didn't approach it properly."
"Go away!" she repeated.
His earlier anger returned and he banged hard on the door. "You either open this door or I will break it down. Do you hear me?" Only silence followed his threat. "Sara?"
Nothing.
Gritting his teeth he took a step back and raised his foot just as Laura's voice made him jump.
"Don't you dare," she growled, rushing towards him. He stared at her as she came at him, pushing him out of the way then knocking on the door. "Sara, open the door," she called. "And open it right now before I have to explain to your father why your husband put his boot through the fine oak."
They waited and after a few seconds the sound of a key in the lock broke the silence and the door opened. Only a tiny bit but it opened.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief glancing to Grissom. "Are you calm?" she queried. "Because this won't work if you're not." Relaxing his fists, he nodded and she let him pass.
Slowly pushing open the door, he stepped into the room, then closed it behind him. Sara was standing by the window, back to him, arms folded across her chest. The fingers on his right hand clenched into a ball as he slowly walked toward her then stopped just behind her.
"Sara?"
"What?" she snapped dryly.
He swallowed, taking another step closer. "I'm sorry," he apologized.
Slowly, she turned around, her eyes angry but showing no signs of tears. "Why?" she spat. "For talking to me like a piece of dirt or making me look a fool in front of everyone?"
Eyes saddening, his shoulders slumped. "I just want you to be safe."
"That's no reason to act that way," she spat, lips pursed.
Reaching up, he gently pulled on her arm then slid his hand down to hers to hold it firmly. "I thought I could deal with this but every second I'm not with you I'm terrified something is going to happen." He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I'm sorry about my behavior earlier. Something inside me just reacted and..." His head shook. "I don't know. The thought of you being in any circumstance that is dangerous just..."
Sara swiftly raised her free hand to his mouth, silencing him. "Stop," she requested softly, her heart lightening a little at his confession. "I don't want to fight. That's the very last thing I want to do. But I'm not happy with the way you spoke to me. I know you, I know your heart and you're better than that. If you have concerns or a problem then you need to talk to me not fly off the handle like you did."
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "Forgive me?"
Looking deeply into his eyes, she sighed. "That depends," she countered.
He frowned. "On what?"
"On whether or not you are going to stop overreacting about my daily activities and worrying about what I'm doing every second of the day." He looked down, averting her gaze, his eyes working in circles and Sara felt her heart pinch. "Gil?" she pleaded, feeling his reluctance.
Sighing, he looked up. "On one condition," he replied. "Because no matter what, I won't ever stop worrying. I can't. But, I can learn to…control it."
Her eyes narrowed, not entirely sure where he was going. "And what is the condition?"
"That we sit down, right now, and work out some rules," he replied.
She shook her head. "Rules? You're dictating again," she argued in disbelief.
"No," he implored. "I'm not. I promise. All I want is for you to take care of yourself. Only then can I learn to not worry so much. But I need to know that you understand my concerns about the dangers around you."
She huffed. "I'm not a child, Gil."
Fighting his frustration as they seemed to be going around in a circle, he grasped her cheeks with both hands, startling her a little. "Listen to me," he begged. "I know you are not a child. I know you know how to look after yourself. That's one of the things I love about you. But I'm begging you to just hear me out. Please."
Swallowing, she watched as his eyes seemed to glisten with tears. "Okay," she whispered giving him the benefit of the doubt. After all, she had told him to discuss things rather than keep them inside.
Sighing again, he dropped his hands. "Thank you."
Managing a small smile, she retook his hand. "Let's go for a walk. I need some air."
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After assuring a skeptical looking Laura they were working things out, the couple, hand in hand, excited the house and started down the main steps. When they'd almost reached the bottom, Gregory appeared and paused seeing them heading right for him.
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at Grissom then turned his attention to Sara when they dropped down the final step. "Are you all right?" he asked still sounding concerned.
Sara nodded. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
Grissom could feel his annoyance brewing one more time. What did Gregory think he was going to do, to his own wife that he dearly loved? "She said she's fine," he growled. "Now leave it alone."
Gregory's eyes snapped back to him. "Or what? Are you going to have a go at me, too?"
"Stay there," Grissom ordered his wife, advancing towards the younger man. Gregory swallowed and took a step back. "I have apologized for my actions," Grissom began, still advancing as Gregory continued to step back. "What exactly gives you the right to question the worry for my wife anyway?"
"Gil?" Sara pleaded from behind and he held up a hand to stop her.
Stopping, Gregory looked Grissom in the eyes. "I'm not questioning your worry," he argued. "I'm questioning your disrespect. You upset her."
Clenching his hands together, Grissom bit down on his lip. "And I am regretful for that," he answered, trying to keep his cool. "I am only human and I make mistakes. Now, I suggest you leave it be and back off because unless you are forgetful, I've been beaten, hung and shot for my love of your cousin. Because of that you are not going to tell me how I should react given my current circumstance. Are we clear?"
Swallowing hard again, Gregory did indeed back down and nodded. The fire in Grissom's eyes sent a sudden shiver down his spine and he realized he shouldn't be meddling between a pregnant woman and her man no matter how he felt.
"I think that's enough," Sara said, taking Grissom's arm and pulling him back to her. "I appreciate your concern, Gregory, but I'm really okay. Things are just a little tense and Gil doesn't mean anything bad by his words to me or to you." She looked to her husband. "Right?"
"Yes," he agreed on a sigh.
"I will talk to you later," Sara told her cousin then pulled on Grissom's arm, leading him away to prevent anything else getting heated. "He doesn't mean any harm, Gil," she said as they walked. "You need to stop getting so angry so quickly."
Grissom stopped short. "He was acting like I was going to hurt you or something," he replied. "That's why I got angry."
She shook her head, taking his hand. "He's just always looked out for me and I know he didn't think that. He's just trying to be protective."
"That's my job," he countered and she smirked.
"I'll make sure he knows that later," she said, tugging on his hand to continue their walk. Entering the garden, they stopped at the pond and Sara sat on a bench, pulling him down with her. "So..." She paused, looking at him.
"So," he countered.
"Talk to me," she implored. "Tell me how we get through this without filing for divorce." His eyes widened and her hand shot to his mouth. "I was joking."
His right eye twitched as she lowered her hand and then he exhaled. "I…I'm just very much on edge right now," he admitted. "And, with you being sick this morning, I'm just finding it hard to…"
"Relax?" she finished for him.
He nodded. "Something like that. I just," he continued, swallowing down a lump in his throat. "I worry about you all the time. About what you're doing, where you are, who you're with."
Retaking his hand, she squeezed. "You can't do that all the time, Gil. You will drive yourself insane. I can't stop being who I am because I'm pregnant. I will go crazy as well if I do that. And, even though I can take care of myself, you know that everyone here will be looking out for me, not just you. You cannot be responsible for my wellbeing all of the time."
"I still don't want you riding," he said quickly.
"Gil," she huffed frustrated. Looking into her eyes, he remained silent. "How would you feel if I told you that you couldn't ride? It's your life, just like it's mine."
"It's dangerous," he replied calmly.
"You can't wrap me in cotton," she argued. "A lot of woman, especially those who aren't as lucky as we are, work all the way up to their labor day. They carry, lift, pull and bend, ride, pick and plow."
"But you aren't one of those women, Sara," he continued to argue. "You have a choice to take care of yourself."
She shook her head realizing he was more stubborn than she ever realized. "And what would you like me to do?" she queried, shrugging her shoulders. "Sit in my room all day and never move?" Leaning forwards she looked deep within him. "I will lose my mind," she said firmly.
He looked across the pond, his mind just a frenzied mass of worry and indecision. No, it wasn't fair what he was asking but it was safe. She would be safe and his unborn child would be safe. But practical, no. His head shook. He just didn't know anymore.
Sara could see his struggle and had an idea. It may be easier to talk him around out of these surroundings. "How do you feel about getting out of here?"
He frowned and looked back at her. "What do you mean?"
"Well," she continued, stroking his hand, "I was organizing a surprise for you tomorrow. Dinner in town, hotel room, get away from here for a little while and all the stress of everyday life. Mother came up with the suggestion but after today…" She blew out a breath. "How about we just go now? I think it would be good for us to have some us time. No family, no work. Just me and you. And then maybe you can really get your head clear about all this."
Looking quite surprised, he cleared his throat. "That sounds…nice…but, just drop everything and go? Just like that? Sara, I have duties."
She snorted. "Gil, you are heir to this estate. You could ride horseback naked all day and do no work and no one would question you."
His right eyebrow soared. "I'm pretty sure your father would question that one."
Now she laughed, well and truly laughed. "Would be a sight to see that's for sure."
Laughing back he leaned in and kissed her and she laughed into him, raising her hand to cup his cheek.
After a few seconds she pulled back. "So, what do you think?" she asked, rubbing his cheek with her thumb.
"Are you sure you are up to that? It can be quite bumpy."
"Stop worrying about everything," she demanded. "And I wouldn't be suggesting it if I didn't want to go." Running her hand through his hair she gave him a gentle smile. "In a few months' time I won't be travelling anywhere so let's make the most of it while we can, huh?"
He could tell by her tone that this was something she really wanted and after his behavior he really should try and smooth things out as best as he could. "Okay," he agreed. "As long as it's okay with your father, let's do it."
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The captain was quite agreeable to the excursion idea so they quickly packed as Laura arranged a coach for them. They we're leaving the estate just before lunchtime. And while the journey into town was reasonably pleasant, Grissom still looked nervous every time they hit a bump in the road.
"You need to relax," Sara encouraged, tightening the grip on his hand as it rested in hers upon her lap and, inhaling deeply, he looked at her. "Save your worry until I really need it," she continued. "When I'm a hefty lump and have emotions coming out of my ears."
He smirked. "Is that the time I hide in the closet because you have turned into the devil?"
"Devil?" she sniggered. "Me? Never."
He laughed as the coach left the outer road and headed toward the town center. "Oh, I don't know. I think we all have a little devil in us."
Smiling, she leaned in to tenderly kiss his lips. "I think you might be right there."
Glancing through the window, Grissom noticed they had arrived at their destination. "We're here," he said softly and she giggled, kissing him again.
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Bidding farewell to their driver, Grissom took their suitcase with one hand and his wife's hand with the other. Entering the open door to the hotel they approached the front desk and were immediately greeted by Alfred who flashed them a bright smile.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Grissom," he welcomed, watching as Grissom placed their suitcase down onto the floor. "I don't believe we were expecting you until tomorrow."
"You weren't," Sara agreed. "But we decided to flee a little earlier than expected." Alfred smiled at her banter. "And," she continued, "we were hoping you would have a room for this evening as well as tomorrow."
"Why of course," he answered, opening up the register and flicking through. "Ah, yes, number seven." He looked up from the book. "One of our finest rooms with a beautiful picturesque view of the valley."
"View?" Grissom questioned. "Is the room high up?"
"Yes, sir," Alfred replied. "Five floors up, top floor but very peaceful."
Grissom's jaw worked to the left, glancing at his wife and she instantly knew what he was thinking.
"I'm quite capable of climbing stairs, Gil. I'm not quite at a point where you need to carry me yet."
Alfred looked confused. "Is there a problem?" he inquired with a hint of uncertainty.
"No," Sara answered with a smile but then looked around, lowering her voice. "We are…um…expecting and my husband is just being a worry."
"Oh," Alfred declared surprised. "Well, many congratulations," he expressed sincerely but quietly.
"Thank you," Sara said softly with a slight blush. "And I'm sure the room will be more than fine."
"Excellent," he said chirpily. "And will you be dining with us this evening?"
"We will," Grissom answered.
Sara had a sudden thought. "You won't be serving eggs will you?"
Alfred shook his head. "No, Ma'am. We only serve eggs at breakfast unless there is a special request. May I ask why?"
Holding a hand to her stomach, Sara did her best to smile. "I, um, right now, I'm not very keen on the smell. It makes me sick."
"Then I will make sure there are no eggs served in the dining room this evening," Alfred reassured.
She inhaled and nodded. "Thank you," she replied gratefully.
"And we can bring breakfast to your room in the morning if you wish. That way you won't need to battle the odor at breakfast time. I will ensure you are not served eggs."
Sara's smile blossomed again and she glanced back to Grissom. "Is that all right with you?"
"An excuse not to get out of bed? Where do I sign?"
Holding a hand to his mouth to hide his laugh, Alfred cleared his throat. "Then I will organize that for you, Ma'am."
Clapping his hands together, it took just five seconds before a young, tall man, looking no older than 18 rushed in from a side room and stopped at the desk.
"Kendrick, please escort Mr. and Mrs. Grissom to Room 7," Alfred directed, taking a key from a hook and handing it to him. "Make sure the drapes are open and the temperature meets their needs once inside."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Calhoun, sir."
"If you require anything," Alfred continued, glancing back to the couple, "please do not hesitate to ask."
Smiling, Grissom took Sara's hand. "We will. Thank you."
Kendrick quickly bowed to the couple then took the suitcase. "If you would like to follow me," he requested.
Sara giggled and they followed the man to the stairs and began climbing. "I'm really looking forward to this," she said, taking a hold of her dress with her free hand and lifting. "Peace, quiet, no work, no interruptions, a lovely view, and…" Her eyes flicked to her man. "Wonderful company."
"I'll drink to that," he agreed with a broad and beaming smile.
Her lips puckered as they reached the second floor. "Oooh, shall we get some champagne?"
"Would you like some champagne?" he asked as they began the next set of stairs.
Her lips curled a grin. "I would," she clarified. "I know a little game we can play with it."
His eyes narrowed a touch. "And what might that be?"
She snickered, pulling his hand behind her so his arm slipped around her waist. "Wait and see and I'll explain when things are a little more private."
*** - "Since the state of your mind that you describe, is, at all events, attributable to some influence of mine - this is what I mean, if I can make it plain - can I use no influence to serve you? Have I no power for good, with you, at all?"
"The utmost good that I am capable of now, I have come here to realise. Let me carry through the rest of my misdirected life, the remembrance that I opened my heart to you, last of all the world; and that there was something left in me at this time which you could deplore and pity."
*** - Extract taken from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (slightly adapted).
A/N: Well, at least she managed to calm him down. Let's hope this little trip works out and they can plan for their future without shouting the house down :P