Sources

Chapter 21

Laura walked into the room slowly, balancing a tray full of tea.

"Thanks," Sara said gratefully, accepting a cup. She was curled up on the couch with her laptop.

"Sending e-mails?" Laura asked, settling into a chair with her tea and some knitting.

Sara nodded, taking a moment to watch her mother knit. It was one of her earliest memories of Laura; thick skeins of yarn wrapped around her arm while her fingers and needles flew.

"To him?"

Sara blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you e-mailing Grissom?" Laura's sharp eyes caught her daughter's blush. "Have you two talked about what will happen when you get back?"

"I haven't e-mailed him since he said he wanted to move forward with me," Sara admitted, looking down. "I'm worried that he hasn't thought it through. And that if I ask him to, maybe he'll get scared off."

"I know it's scary, sweetie, but you're setting yourself up for disappointment if you don't talk about it with him."

Sara stared at her computer screen. She deleted the e-mail she'd been composing, and started over.

Grissom,

I miss you too. More than I can say.

I appreciate your candor in your last e-mail. But I can't help but wonder what will happen when I get back. What does "moving forward" mean? Will we go on dates? Will everyone at the lab know, or will we keep it secret? And my biggest fear. will I get back to find that you've changed your mind and shut me out again?

I came to California to face my past, but I find myself spending all my time thinking about you. I've been here a week now, and I'm not any closer to finding the answers that I need.

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving for Tamales Bay. I have a weekend reservation at Moody Blues, the B&B where I grew up. It's run by a family I've never met, and I don't think they know that I lived there. At least I hope not. They're bound to know someone was murdered in that house, and I don't want to have to answer any of their questions.

It will be hard to be back there, but I really think it's something I need to do for myself. I still have nightmares about that night. I had hoped after I faced Bobby that they'd go away, but they didn't.

My mother offered to go to Tamales Bay with me, but I asked her not to. The prospect of being there alone is terrifying, but I just can't have her there.

I'll e-mail you when I get home on Monday. Actually, I'll probably call you. I have a feeling I'll really need to hear your voice.

Sara

She checked her e-mail again before leaving the next morning. Grissom still hadn't written back. She tried to fight her disappointment; after all, she hadn't replied to his e-mail for nearly a week.

"I packed you some sandwiches," Laura said from the doorway. "There's a thermos of coffee, too."

Sara looked up at her mother, her eyes shining with affection as she packed up her laptop and overnight case. "Mom, the drive takes under an hour in heavy traffic. And I just had breakfast."

"It can be your lunch then. They're cheese sandwiches. I'm sorry about that pot roast I made last week, I didn't know you'd stopped eating meat. otherwise I never would have made it," Laura rambled, looking uncomfortable.

Sara stood and drew her mother into a hug. "Now I know where I got my over-talking tendencies." She pulled back. "We've got twenty years to catch up on, Mom. It'll take some time."

Laura nodded, brushing away a tear. "You're sure you don't want me to come with you this weekend?"

"I'm sure."

They walked out to the car in silence. Laura kissed her daughter's cheek. "I'll see you Monday, then. Call me if you need me."

Sara nodded, getting into the car and popping in a mix tape. As she drove, she forced herself to sing along, hoping it would calm the butterflies in her stomach. It didn't work.

As she entered the limits of Tamales Bay, she felt her chest constrict as the beginning of a panic attack set in. She pulled to the side of the road, closing her eyes and trying to breathe deeply. When it didn't subside, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed. She heard two rings before the familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

Her chest relaxed slightly. "Grissom," she breathed.

"Hey, you all right?" She could hear the concern in his voice, and it calmed her further.

"I'm fine. Did you get my e-mail?"

"Yeah, I did," he said, sounding a little distracted. "Sorry I didn't respond yet, I had some unexpected things to take care of."

"Oh." She chewed on a fingernail, wondering what that meant.

"Are you at the B&B now? What's it called again?"

"Moody Blues. And no, I'm not. I'm about two minutes away."

"Nervous?" His voice was kind, and made her heart ache.

"I miss you," she whispered.

He was silent for several seconds. "Why don't you call me back after you check in?"

She blinked. "Oh, okay. Sure. I'll call you."

"Bye, Sara."

She stared at her phone, then sighed and pulled her car onto the road again. After a few minutes, the blue house of her childhood appeared in the distance. She pulled into the parking lot on the side of the house, fighting the rising panic that threatened to swallow her whole.

Finally she grabbed her bags and got out of her car, slamming the door harder than was really necessary. The show of power felt good, though.

Sara walked to the front of the building and approached the porch, walking up the steps slowly. She paused near the top of the steps, closing her eyes at the memory of her father being brought down the stairs in a body bag. Blinking back tears, she walked up the rest of the stairs, ignoring the guests on the porch who were watching her curiously.

"Hello, welcome to Moody Blues," the woman at the front desk chirped. "Is this your first time staying here?"

Sara laughed a little. "No."

"Great, welcome back. You have a reservation?"

"Yes, under Sara."

She checked in quickly and received her key. An older couple came in from the porch, throwing her an inquisitive look. She avoided their eyes.

"Do you need help finding your room?" The woman behind the desk was watching her.

Sara shook her head. "I'd like to sit on the porch for a while, enjoy the fresh air." This seemed to satisfy the woman, who pulled Sara's bags behind the desk for her.

She walked out on the porch and looked to see if the swing was empty. It wasn't.

A sob rose in her throat as their eyes met. Grissom stood and walked toward her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "You walked right by me before. I was afraid you'd forgotten me."

A tear fell down her cheek. Her lips trembled as she reached for him.

He held her close to him, planting kisses in her hair as she clutched him desperately. "I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds by coming here, Sara. I just. missed you. Thought I could help."

She pulled back and studied his face. He watched her, taken aback by the raw emotions swirling in her eyes. "Sara?"

"I love you." The words she'd been unable to say for so long rolled off her tongue with ease, surprising her.

Grissom hadn't realized how much he'd needed to hear it. He let the warmth of her words wash over him, closing his eyes and smiling. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling back.

"Are you staying here too?"

He nodded. "I checked in a couple of hours ago. I've been bonding with the porch swing ever since."

Sara pulled him over to the swing. He sat down and reached for her. Curling up next to him, she felt his arms encircle her protectively. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"I spent most of my childhood on this porch, reading," she said. "It was my haven."

Grissom stroked her hair lightly. "Does it make you feel safe?"

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes misting over. "You make me feel safe." He leaned down, capturing her lips softly.