A/N:
A couple weeks ago I came across a Twitter thread of Chicagoans critiquing The Bear for not having showcased enough areas of the city. (So far I love The Bear, and I'm very excited that I finally get to watch the second season next week.) I will repeat my previous statement that I have been to Chicago all of once (almost exactly six years ago). This is very much a tourist's view of the city—which is fine with me, because this is very much a tourist's visit! I hope you enjoy it! 💛
Spoilers: A few very basic spoilers for My Best Friend's Wedding below.
Spring 2009. Chicago, Illinois.
"Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you."
– Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms.
Someday, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight
– Dorothy Fields, "The Way You Look Tonight."
North by Northwest: Lake Shore Drive
Although Grissom had chosen canoeing and critters (of the insect variety) for his honeymoon destination, Sara wanted to indulge her new husband more than that.
"But I already made my choice," he'd told her the morning she'd presented him with the idea, as they'd lain wrapped around each other in bed in a state of post-coital bliss.
"I don't care—I'll do whatever you want to do; I'll go wherever you want to go."
He'd smiled at this and brushed the hair back from her forehead with his hand, and he'd looked deep into her big brown eyes. "Anywhere. I'd go anywhere with you, Sara."
She too had smiled, and she'd kissed him, and by the time they'd resumed their morning activities their plan had been solidified.
So Sara and Grissom flew out to their European adventure not directly from Las Vegas (where they had returned briefly to make final arrangements for the belongings that would follow them to Paris), but via O'Hare, with a six-day layover in Chicago.
In Chicago, Sara and Grissom attended not one, not two, not three, but four games of Chicago Cubs baseball (one for every night of their initial affair, Sara thought to herself). If Sara had once thought her sometimes lover boyishly cute when she accompanied him for several rides on a Santa Cruz roller coaster, that was nothing compared to the excitement her new husband exhibited getting to watch live as the Cubs played four games at Wrigley Field.
While Grissom had, during his relationship with Sara, watched many games of Cubs baseball, he had always done so from the comfort of his—and then their—own home. Sara would usually pass the time beside him on the couch by catching up with journal articles or crime books or whatever other reading materials caught her fancy.
Viewing the games live and in person, though, Sara watched attentively, and Grissom took the opportunity to regale her with all the Cubs trivia she'd ever wanted to know—and, once those five minutes were over, with plenty of Cubs trivia she'd never have dreamed of wanting to know.
Grissom's Cubs split their series with the Dodgers, his hometown team (which had relocated to Los Angeles just two years after he was born), and he was content. His team hadn't won the World Series in over a century at that point, and they hadn't won the National League pennant since over a decade before he was born, so Grissom's love of the Cubs wasn't really predicated on winning (although he had very much enjoyed following their journey to three Central Division titles that decade).
Grissom, always a considerate fellow, demonstrated each night in their hotel room a markedly deep level of appreciation to his new wife for indulging him so. You can only imagine the celebrations that went on in the Sidle-Grissom household on November 2, 2016, when the Cubs finally won their first World Series since 1908; you will have to imagine it, of course, because it's beyond the scope of this tale….
Over the course of their four games at Wrigley Field, Sara and Grissom amassed nearly a suitcase's worth of Cubs memorabilia. Grissom could never resist just one more purchase. By the end of the fourth game, they were both dressed head to toe in Cubs gear, including matching ballcaps. This sparked memories of the first year of their acquaintance for both.
Sara's hair had grown long enough again for a short ponytail that poked out the back of her cap, and Grissom couldn't help picturing the young ponytailed woman he'd met in San Francisco on February 9, 1998. Sara, meanwhile, thought of Grissom reading on the beach in her SFPD ballcap, while she surfed, on the northern California coast in the fall of 1998. While she couldn't count herself a fan of his truly terrible straw hat, she'd never been able to resist the man in a ballcap.
On a Sunday night—the last night of May—they watched their final game. The Cubs had already been down five by the end of the first inning and had never really staged a comeback, but Sara and Grissom weren't about to leave the game early. As they sat there in the eighth inning, he laced the fingers of one of her hands through those of one of his, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Sara thought maybe she could enjoy sharing in her spouse's interests, and they both thought married life was pretty darn good.
"You know, I, uh…. I think my dad would be really happy we did this—I think he'd be really happy to know I had you to do this with me," he told her. While he had over the course of many decades grown accustomed to the absence of his father, part of him still wished he could have introduced the elder Dr. Grissom to the beautiful ponytailed and Cubs-bedecked woman who sat beside him.
Sara was unable to respond, as she was at that moment trying very hard, in the stands of Wrigley Field, not to cry during a game of baseball. There's no crying in baseball, she thought to herself. She wouldn't have expected to become so emotional at the notional approval of a man who'd died several years before she was even born.
"Sara?" Grissom glanced over at his bride, concerned by her lack of response.
"Just watch the game, okay," she whispered, staring straight out toward the famed ivy-covered brick wall and manual scoreboard of the oldest stadium in the National League and, still, trying not to cry.
"Sara?" This time he was more concerned, and he again looked over, trying to decipher the meaning of her unexpectedly somber expression.
"Just watch the game," she repeated softly, trying to smile.
"Okay." Grissom went back to watching his Cubs as requested, simply squeezing Sara's hand tighter as he did so.
One at-bat later, with her emotions again in check, Sara looked over at her husband, who, seeming to sense her gaze, looked back at her. She laughed when she got a full view of his face.
"What?"
"Oh. It's just…." She smirked a little.
"What?"
She leaned in and kissed him, briefly but not too briefly, licking his upper lip as she did so.
She leaned back out. "You just had a little mustard on your mouth—from your hot dog last inning."
"Oh…." He brushed the back of his right hand over his mouth, first left to right, then right to left. "Is it still there?"
"Oh, no, don't worry. I got it for you."
"Oh."
She rested her head on his shoulder then, and she again intertwined his fingers with hers. "I'm really happy you had me to do this with you, too."
During his childhood, Grissom had accompanied his mother annually on summer visits to family relations in Chicago—both in the city proper and slightly north of the city in Evanston. When Mrs. Grissom had heard the new (not-)Mrs. Grissom and her son would be stopping over in Chicago, she insisted on making plans for them to visit those of the old relations who were still alive and kicking. Sara and Grissom politely resisted her entreaties that they must stay with those relations while in Chicago, but they were content to attend a family get-together, and Grissom was only too pleased to introduce his beautiful new bride to many distant cousins he hadn't seen (and whose existence he had not contemplated) in decades.
When not spending time at or around Wrigley Field or being overwhelmed by introductions (or reintroductions) to Grissom's many Chicago relations, Sara and Grissom tried to appreciate as much as they could of the art and architecture Chicago and environs had to offer.
They spent many hours wandering hand in hand at the Art Institute of Chicago, where they particularly enjoyed getting to see Edward Hopper's Nighthawks. They explored the various scientific exhibits at the Field Museum of Natural History.
On separate days, they took tours of Frank Lloyd Wright's Rookery Light Court and his Frederick C. Robie House. After visiting Robie House, they took the opportunity to walk the grounds of the University of Chicago, where the then-new POTUS had previously taught constitutional law (and where, nearly as significantly, Sally Albright and Harry Burns had once met).
They took the Green Line of the "L" out to Oak Park, where they visited Wright's Unity Temple and took a tour of his home and neighborhood, and they visited the birthplace home of Ernest Hemingway. They then wandered down the street to Petersen's, where they shared a hot-fudge sundae at the old-fashioned ice cream parlor.
Back in the city, Sara and Grissom took one of the Chicago Architecture Foundation Center's river cruises. They'd arrived early and were thus amongst the first to board the 250-person-capacity Chicago's First Lady. They headed immediately up the steps to the boat's open top deck, which was mostly covered in chairs, split up into three sections by aisles running from the superstructure to the stern. Sara and Grissom walked back and found seats next to the port-side outer railing.
While waiting for the river cruise's scheduled departure time, they took pictures of the skyscrapers and high-rises surrounding them on all sides then flipped through the other pictures they'd already taken that day on Sara's DSLR camera.
Sara had made herself comfortable in her seat and was looking forward to a relaxing boat ride, but they weren't five minutes into their voyage when she discovered her husband had other plans for them.
"Hey, let's go get a drink."
"What?"
"Let's go get a drink."
"What? The cruise just started."
"I know. But it'll be nice."
"I'm not really thirsty right now. We still have some water left in the bottle if you want it, though?" She started rummaging through the bag for their reusable water bottle.
"Eh. Let's go see what they have down below."
"Okay, why don't you go look for a drink while I save the seats?"
"Oh, come on. It'll be fun."
Sara looked at Grissom, still dubious. "Fun?"
"Yeah. Fun." He stood up and held out his hand to her. "Trust me?"
She tried not to smile. "Always." She stood up, too, though she was still somewhat puzzled.
"Just put the camera in the bag, and we can leave our jackets on the seats. I'm sure these nice people wouldn't mind looking after our seats while we're gone." He gestured to the elderly woman and man sitting beside them.
He then turned to face the couple. "Would you mind looking after our seats while we go get drinks?" he asked them.
"Oh, of course not, dear," said the crisply-dressed grey-haired lady.
"No trouble," added her equally distinguished-looking partner.
"Thank you, both—we're most obliged."
Then he turned back toward Sara and smiled. "See? No trouble?"
"Okay." She shrugged. "Let's go."
He took her hand then, and she followed behind him. Now that he'd removed his jacket and the boat was in motion, the breeze had started whipping his Classic Blue linen shirt around him. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, as he often did when wearing long-sleeved shirts, given his preference for bare forearms. The sight of him drew her mind back to one of the first cases they'd worked together after she'd officially moved to Las Vegas, when they'd rescued a woman—an accomplice in her own kidnapping—who'd been buried alive.
Sara had been so distracted by her recollection that she hadn't noticed Grissom was leading them in the wrong direction. "Hey, Gil, I think the stairs to the main deck are in the other direction." She motioned toward the stairs and tried unsuccessfully to lead him back in the right direction.
"Oh, no. I think this is good." The boat was not full on a weekday in early June, and he'd stopped walking when he'd found a spot at the back of the deck where they weren't directly obscuring any other passengers' views.
"What do you mean? The stairs—"
He put his right hand on her hip and held her right hand with his left.
"Gil, what are you—"
He pulled her close and started slowly moving her in a circle.
"Gil, I—"
With his mouth next to her ear, he started softly singing. "Someday… when I'm awfully low…."
"Oh."
"When the world is cold…."
As they continued moving slowly in a circle, she began holding him just as tightly as he was holding her.
"I will feel a glow… just thinking of you…."
She relaxed her head into his shoulder.
"And the way you look tonight…."
As the boat made its way along its route under the river's many bridges, he continued singing—and they continued dancing—until he'd finished the song. Then they broke apart. Some of their fellow passengers had taken note of Sara and Grissom's activities, and, once they'd broken apart, they were greeted with some light applause and a few whistles.
Grissom shrugged. "It's our honeymoon," he explained to those seated nearby, receiving some more smattered applause in return.
Sara just laughed, as she thought back to the many years she'd spent pretending not to be in love with this man, then not being able even to hold his hand in public, then once again not being within 500 miles of him. She silently gave thanks that finally she could kiss him any time she wanted. So kiss him she did, to—again—more applause.
When Sara and Grissom again broke apart, he took her hand and led her back toward their seats. As they were about to sit down, she remembered the original purpose of their walk. "Wait, didn't you want a drink?"
"Oh, no. I'm good. We've still got water in the bag." He smiled at her and sat down.
Sara too retook her seat. She was feeling both somewhat giddy and somewhat confounded. She would hardly have expected Grissom to be much of a fan of My Best Friend's Wedding.
"How did you even…." She laughed again. "How did you even come up with that?"
"With all the romantic comedies you were watching last year, tell me you didn't skip that one."
"No, I just…." She shook her head. "I've seen it—I just didn't know you had."
"Of course. It's got some great Chicago scenery."
"This is true." Now she understood—the man had always loved Chicago.
"I mean, they go to a White Sox game, of course, not a Cubs game, but it's still okay." He winked at her.
"Right."
"And you know, Sara," he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I've got moves you've never seen."
"Oh my god." She really hadn't expected him to start quoting Julia Roberts characters to her. She pulled back to look at him. "I…." She was trying unsuccessfully to suppress her smile, and she could tell he was delighting in her amusement. She would not be bested, though. Slowly she licked her lips. "I don't doubt it." Then she bit her lower lip as she looked him up and down. "Maybe you can show me some tonight."
She laughed at his quickly raised eyebrows. "You weren't planning on trying to get me on top of a parade float, dancing to 'Twist and Shout,' though, were you?" she continued, thinking back to one of her favorite '80s teen comedies.
"Uh, no, dear. That wasn't part of the itinerary."
"Okay. Just checking." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
She handed him the camera then, and she tried to go back to listening to what the docent was telling the passengers about the numerous architecturally significant buildings they were passing. Really, though, her thoughts were elsewhere.
As she'd danced with Grissom on the boat, in front of many amused strangers, Sara had thought this was quite a nice case of life imitating art. As she now sat beside him, Sara also gave thanks that she had been more successful than Jules in keeping her own best friend out of the clutches of flirty blondes. Sara's best friend had married Sara.
UP NEXT: NEXT CHAPTER: SPRING 2009. SPAIN.
NOTES
On CSI and Nighthawks:
If you do an image search of the above, you should be able to pull up the CSI publicity version of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks.
On Petersen's:
I know this sounds like something I must have made up for the story, but Petersen's is a real ice cream parlour in Oak Park, opened in 1919.
On the connection between My Best Friend's Wedding and CSI:
Sara's best friend (William Petersen) and Jules's (Dermot Mulroney) starred together as ballplayers in the 1987 HBO minor-league baseball movie Long Gone, which is highly recommended for the Billy Petersen hotness factor as well as if you like baseball movies.
SOUNDTRACK LISTING
Sufjan Stevens. "Chicago."
Keith Forsey. "Love Theme" from The Breakfast Club.
(You can listen to these songs in my playlist for this series, which can be found by searching my username on Spotify.)
A/N:
As I noted above, I have been to Chicago once, almost exactly six years ago (July 6-13, 2017, to be exact). It was Jules and Michael's river cruise that initially inspired me to want to visit Chicago; I first saw My Best Friend's Wedding in theaters, as a teenager, on opening weekend (so June 20 or 21, 1997), so it only took me (again, almost exactly!) twenty years to get there. I recently saw a tweet stating, "[M]y red flag is i believe jules and michael should've ended up together in my best friend's wedding," and I felt very seen. I can't help it. I am always pro-Julia. Don't try to talk me out of it; it won't work.
I would have loved to include in this chapter more references to all the delicious food (and drinks!) I had in Chicago, but a lot of the places where I ate and drink were pretty new, and (aside from the obligatory blues clubs) I don't think most of them would have been around in 2009. I will say for the record, though, that the single most delicious thing I ate in Chicago was the saffron tagliatelle with dungeness crab and chili butter at Giant and the single most delicious thing I drank was either the Long Island Iced Tea at Giant (which tasted like a delicious, fresh, homemade cola) or a lemon-ginger cocktail at Cindy's at the Chicago Athletic Association. (I don't think either drink is currently on their respective menus but the tagliatelle is still there.) If anyone has any other recommendations for whenever I manage to make it back to Chicago, please send them my way!
Also, last week I initially forgot to include my author's note, so I will repeat my wishes that the lovely Jorja Fox had a wonderful birthday last Friday!
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter—and that you will enjoy the next (to be posted in a week), which takes our two lovely science nerds to Spain! 💕 I hope you have a wonderful weekend and week, and I would, as always, love to hear from you! 💛