A/N: You Never Lie was written for the May 2008 Saturday Night Writing Challenge at FoxHouse. The prompt ? Mother's Day.
Spoiler Alert: This story was inspired by Episode 4:14 "Living The Dream"
Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or its characters, nor do I profit from this story.
Happy Mother's Day! Enjoy!
You Never Lie
My head is spinning.
I pry my eyes open and force myself to acknowledge the arrival of a brand new day.
Sunlight bathes my apartment in a golden glow. It's a disgusting display of nature's springtime exuberance.
I'd much prefer rain with a dense blanket of fog. Fog would suit my dismal mood to perfection.
I feel like a slug, lying here on my sofa.
I'm heavy and lethargic. I ache like the old man I've become. My coffee table bears witness to last night's excesses.
Chinese take-out, balled up napkins, an empty bottle of scotch and the latest issue of the National Enquirer.
I squint at the clock.
It's all coming back to me now. The reason, I mean, for last night's binge of self-pity and loathing.
I was sure a fifth of Lagavulin would have obliterated last Tuesday from my memory forever.
But I was wrong. I am numb. I am shattered.
I stagger into the kitchen.
Somehow, I manage to make myself a half-decent cup of coffee. There's nothing to eat.
My bare cupboards are a stark reminder that I'd better haul my pathetic ass to the grocery store today.
I return to the living room and root around the greasy cartons for leftovers.
I find one egg roll and dip it in my coffee as I search for my phone under all the debris.
I'd better get this over with. The phone call, that is.
Not that I mind talking to my Mom. Far from it.
I just have a problem with the bastard she lives with. But I think I'm safe.
It's 10 am. He should be at the golf course by now.
I press number two on the speed dial.
"Hello…"
"Hi, Mom."
"Greg, darling, I was hoping it was you."
"Happy Mother's Day."
"Thank you for your card and the lovely flowers. You shouldn't have."
We laugh at our running joke. Me? Send a card and flowers? Never have, never will.
"You're welcome. What did I send this year?"
"Why, orchids and roses, of course."
"Maybe one day I'll surprise you with a real present."
"The sound of your voice is the only present I need. How are you, dear?"
"I'm okay. I just solved an interesting case. Have you been watching 'Prescription: Passion' lately?"
"Every day."
"Does the name, Evan Green, ring a bell?"
"Dr. Brock Sterling?"
"The one and only. At first I thought he had a brain tumor, then B6 toxicity. We tested for everything - infections, fungi, parasites and autoimmune diseases, but do you know what his problem turned out to be? An allergic reaction to quinine. How cool is that?"
"That's very cool, darling. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, Mom. I can fill you in on all the details if you like?"
"Maybe some other time, sweetheart. I want to know about you. Are you seeing anyone special?"
"Only Wilson."
"Gregory …"
"Actually, that's a lie. Wilson and I are no longer an item. He left me for someone else – someone with breasts."
"James has a girlfriend? That's wonderful news. I always hated the thought of him living alone in that awful hotel room."
"You can stop worrying, the hotel's history. Wilson moved in with Cut-Throat Bitch a few weeks ago. You should see him. Amber, that's her real name, has her perfectly manicured claws wrapped tightly around his testicles. He's totally whipped!"
"You never did like to share. You must miss him terribly."
"Not really."
"Gregory, remember who you're talking to."
"Okay, maybe I miss him a little."
"Maybe you should follow James' lead and try to find some happiness for yourself."
"I am happy."
"We both know that's a lie, dear. There must be someone."
"Nope."
"I don't understand why. Any woman would be lucky to have a man like you."
"I think you're biased, Mom."
"Maybe, but it's still true. Do you ever see Dr. Cameron? I think you two would be perfect for each other."
"I see her most days around the hospital. She's chief attending in ER now.
Wait a minute, you always said Stacy was perfect for me."
"I know, but when I watched you with Allison and saw the way you looked at her … well, it was obvious how you felt about her.
You never had that kind of chemistry with Stacy. I'm sorry, Greg, but it's true. You should ask Allison out."
"I can't. She's … she's interested in someone else. Do you remember Chase?"
"Allison's dating Robert?"
"Yea, and it's pretty serious. At least it was."
"Was?"
"I hear rumours that there's trouble in paradise."
"Well then, what are you waiting for? Go get her."
"It's not that simple. I … I don't think she wants me any more."
I know I've said too much as soon as the words tumble out of my mouth.
I'm convinced my mother was a Catholic priest in a former life.
She can drag a confession out of anyone.
"That's hogwash! Why doesn't she want you?"
"Let it go, Mom."
"I can't let it go, Gregory. I hear the hurt in your voice."
"It's nothing. I'll get over it."
"Do you know what I miss most, now that you're all grown up?"
"No, what?"
"I miss being your Mom. When you were a little boy, you used to share all your problems with me.
It would make me very happy if I could be that Mom again … especially today. Let me help you."
The truth is, I do need to talk to someone.
Wilson's useless. His brain turned to mush the day he met Amber.
What the hell … there's no harm in trying.
"Last Tuesday, there was an onsite inspection at the hospital as part of our accreditation review.
Cuddy was terrified I'd do something to embarrass her, so she told Cameron to spend the day in Diagnostics babysitting me and cleaning up my patient files."
"Why on earth do you require babysitting, Greg?"
"Trust me, Mom. You don't want to know. Anyway, we got to talking … well, maybe trading barbs is more like it, and I made a crack about her missing me. Cameron countered by accusing me of missing her and then she went on to say that it was the excitement of her old job she missed. I offered to take her back and that's when she said it."
"Said what?"
"That she didn't miss me."
"And that's why your feelings are hurt."
"Stupid, huh?"
"Not at all. It just shows how much you care for her."
"I don't know what to do, Mom."
"Perhaps Allison was telling a white lie. You put her in a vulnerable position. Does she know how you feel about her?"
"She must."
"Have you told her?"
"Not in so many words …"
"That would be a 'no' then."
"I guess … but it doesn't matter. You don't know Cameron like I do.
She never lies. Never! She just doesn't want me anymore."
"I don't believe that for one minute!
Don't you see? You're the reason she misses her old job. She wants you.
The question is … do you still want her?"
"You know I do."
"Then do something about it! I'm sure I don't have to remind you that you're going to be fifty next year.
It's time to grow up, my darling boy. Stop being afraid of love."
"But what if …"
"She was telling you the truth? It's very simple. You either accept the fact that it's over or fight for her love.
Your happiness is at stake here. Make the right choice."
Her logic is flawless.
"I'll call Cameron right now."
"Will you let me know what she says?"
"I promise. Thanks, Mom. I love you."
"I love you too, Greg."
oOoOo
I'd better get this over with. The phone call, that is.
Not that I mind talking to Cameron. Far from it.
I just have a problem with the bastard she lives with. But I think I'm safe.
It's 11 am. He should be at the hospital by now.
I press number one on the speed dial.
"Hello, Cameron?"
"House? This is a surprise."
"Yea. Well, I just wanted to …"
What do I say now? I can't wish her Happy Mother's Day, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my mind.
"I was just thinking how good a stack of pancakes would taste about now."
"I'm not making pancakes for you, House."
"I'm not asking you to. Look Cameron, I know I acted like a jerk on Tuesday.
I should have treated you with more respect – especially in front of my quacks.
I just called to apologize and invite you to go to the IHOP with me."
"I'm sorry, House."
"For what?"
"For thinking the worst of you. I seem to be doing that a lot lately."
"That's okay. At least you're honest enough to admit your mistake."
Cameron's silence is deafening.
"I'm not as honest as I'd like to believe."
"What do you mean?"
"I have a confession to make. I lied to you.""You? You never lie."
"But I did. On Tuesday. When I said I didn't miss you.
I do miss you, House … very much. I'm sorry I hurt you. I was afraid to tell you the truth."
She misses me.
What do I do now? I don't want to blow it.
"Well, as long as we're confessing our sins ... I lied to you, too.
Four years ago. When you asked, 'Do you like me?'
I said 'No' because I was afraid, but I liked you ... I still do. I'm sorry I hurt you."
"We're quite the pair, aren't we? This won't be easy."
"I'm not afraid. Pancakes? Half an hour?"
"I'd like that, House. I'll be waiting."
Just like always.
oOoOo
I've only got thirty minutes.
I jump in the shower, put on some clean clothes and pick up my mess.
Thank god the cleaning lady was here yesterday. Not that I'm planning anything, but you never know.
Where's that old address book? Figures, it's buried beneath a week's worth of newspapers.
I haven't called this number in a very long time.
"Hello, is this Sawyer's? Good. I'd like to order some flowers for my Mom.
Yes, to be delivered today. Her name is Mrs. Blythe House and she lives at 369 Finch Avenue.
What would I like to send?
Why, orchids and roses, of course.
And I'd like a nice Mother's Day card to go along with the bouquet.
What message would I like on the card?"
You were right, Mom … everybody lies.
Happy Mother's Day!
Love, Greg
The End