Chapter 4

House entered Cuddy's office without knocking. The Dean of Medicine was hunched over her computer working on some financial spreadsheets.

"No time right now, House. Tell me what you want to do so that I can turn you down and you can get out of here." She said without looking up at him.

He hesitated. He hated asking anyone for a favor, but she was the only one he knew that could help.

"Do you know anyone who could use a good house cleaner?"

Her head shot up instantly. "Why? Do you know someone? Someone good?"

He sensed that he had just gained the upper hand in this situation. "Well, it's possible…"

"How did you know that my girl moved away?" She eyed him suspiciously, and then gave it up. "Never mind how. I am at the end of my rope. I tried some agencies, but the people they sent were awful. So, who do you know?"

"She's in high demand, but she had a former client recently die. I might be able to put in a good word for you."

She knew she wouldn't get anything from without giving as well. "What do you want?"

"A week off clinic."

"I don't even know if she's any good. An hour off clinic."

"If I get her to come so that you can try her out, I get two hours. If you hire her, I get a week."

She thought about it. She hated giving in to him, but the state of her home was making her desperate. "Does she do laundry? And windows?"

"Yep."

"Okay, it's a deal."

"When do you want her?"

"What day does she have free? "

House realized he better play this right if he wanted to get his bonus. "I'll ask her and let you know. Oh, and one other thing you should probably know, in case it matters."

"What?"

"She's deaf."

"Why should that matter? She doesn't have to hear the dirt, just clean it."

He smiled. He knew Cuddy would feel that way; he just wanted to be sure.

Amy began cleaning Cuddy's house and Cuddy was thrilled. He house had never sparkled so much. She soon found out that House had been lying, that Amy did not have a lot of clients, but she was so happy to have the girl working for her, that she decided to let him have his win. But she did recommend Amy to some of her friends, so the girl was soon working three days a week, cleaning for six or seven career women who didn't have the time to do it themselves. That still left her time to take care of House's apartment and cook for him each day.

She would wake early each morning and make sure his coffee was ready as well as a hot breakfast. He would leave for the hospital with a fresh muffin or some home-baked coffee cake in his backpack to enjoy with his work cup of coffee.

He would arrive home each day to the smells of something wonderful in the kitchen. They would eat together, without much conversation. It was hard for Amy to look at her food and at his face to follow conversation, so there was usually not much talking.

After dinner, sometimes they would watch TV. House bought a closed-captioning device so that Amy could enjoy the shows.

Wilson often visited so that he and House could enjoy sporting events and other shows. Amy was happy to serve dinner to Wilson as well and always prepared snacks for them. While they watched their program, she would sit and read, the show providing no distraction to her.

Sometimes, when they were alone, House would play the piano and Amy would read. Music was a mystery to her. Having been born deaf, she had no frame of reference for music. She could understand that words could be communicated by voice, even though she'd never heard them. But she couldn't understand what music was. It saddened House to realize this, since music had always been such an important part of his life.

One evening, she was sitting on the floor reading while he played. He had been doing some jazz pieces that he really liked and it frustrated him that she couldn't appreciate the music. He banged loudly on the keys with both hands.

Amy's head shot up and she looked towards him, a question on her face. He stared at her, and then asked, "Did you hear that?"

She shook her head, then touched the floor and shook her body.

"You felt it?" he thought about that. Deaf people could feel the vibration that music made. Many of them learned to dance by feeling the vibration. There might be a way to make her understand music after all.

From then on, when he was playing the piano, she sat on the floor leaning against the piano so that she could "feel" the music. It helped the connection between them grow even stronger.

And there was a connection. She very seldom had to use her notebook to communicate with him. Usually, the expression on her face, the tilt of her head or simple body language conveyed exactly what she wanted to say. House thought this was just normal common sense, but it was actually extraordinary in the way that he understood so much of her thoughts. She understood him too, even when he didn't say something.

When he realized that she could feel vibrations, he would often get her attention by banging his cane on the floor. She would usually turn and smile at him when he did that. Her smile lit up her face and gave him a little thrill inside.

They began to get to know each other better. Being House, he couldn't help doing a differential diagnosis.

"How old were you when your parents died?"

She held up ten fingers.

"And you were born deaf?"

She nodded.

"Either of your parents have hearing problems?"

She shook her head.

"Anyone else in your family?"

She shrugged, then wrote, didn't know anyone else in my family.

"Hmmm." He said. "Probably not inherited, but could be congenital." He thought for a moment. "Either of your parents Danish?"

She shook her head and gave him a perplexed look.

"Jervell and Lange-Nielsen Syndrome causes deafness, but it's congenital to people of Danish descent. It's probably cytomegalovirus CMV, but it could just be an infection your mother got during pregnancy. Did she ever mention anything?"

She shook her head sadly.

"Right, you were only ten. A little young to discuss your mother's pregnancy. Were you ever tested to find out if could be reversed?"

She nodded and put her hand near the floor.

"Right, when you were a little girl. And they found it was irreversible?"

She nodded again, and then gave him a look.

"I know, I know, it doesn't really matter. I'm just curious that way."

She smiled at him.

"But you know that you can probably learn to speak?"

She shook her head and pointed to her ears.

"That doesn't mean anything. Children learn to talk by hearing their parents and others talk and copying it. Since deaf children can't hear, they can't copy. Since they can't copy, they can't speak. But they can learn to speak. Many of them do."

She considered this for a moment, then nodded and smiled at him.