Short Thursday update. Wedding minus one day! (That's a fanfiction day, not a literal day.)
(H/C)
Cuddy was up early Thursday as usual to do her morning yoga, which was definitely starting to feel like it involved two participants in her workout. She rested both hands on her slowly swelling bulge, lost in happiness. It was going so well this time. With this child, there had been no problems whatsoever. She gave a silent prayer that her pregnancy would stay this uneventful right through the end.
Blythe came into the kitchen just as Cuddy was planning what to have for breakfast. "Good morning, Lisa," she said brightly, reaching for the coffee pot.
"Good morning, Blythe. Did you sleep well?"
"Like a rock. Is Greg still asleep?"
"Yes, I'm letting him sleep in. Him and Rachel both, so keep it down. Greg and I both have to work today, Blythe, nailing down last-minute details at the hospital, but my parents should be arriving by car late this afternoon. Wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner tonight. You'll be at loose ends for today, I'm afraid, but maybe you can find a mall or something." It occurred to Cuddy right after she said it that Blythe might have difficulty with too much walking at a mall, but too late to pull the words back. Blythe smiled at her.
"It's okay, dear. I'm just slower than I used to be, no real difference. Except this, which is a nuisance at times." She indicated the quad cane. Cuddy was startled at her nonchalant acceptance and abruptly remembered House's report of how she just asked for help at the airport yesterday. Startling contrast from House's ever-present sensitivity about his leg, but she supposed if there was one thing Blythe had practice at in life, it was ignoring difficulties and simply proceeding like they didn't exist. "I had thought I might come down to the hospital and have lunch with Greg. Also, do you mind if I spend some time with Rachel today?" Blythe continued.
"Go ahead, but the nanny will be taking care of her. You aren't up to it physically, you know." Well, if Blythe was going to just plain accept limitations, no point in beating around the bush.
"I know." Blythe moved past her, eying the makings of breakfast. "Could I help, dear? I'm sure Rachel will be up soon, even if Greg isn't."
Right on cue, Rachel started waking up, and her morning sounds that were not-quite-yet cries were heard through the monitor, which Cuddy had on the kitchen counter. She had firmly closed the bedroom door on her way out, as well as the door to the nursery, hoping to buy House some extra sleep. "Thank you," Cuddy said, abandoning breakfast to Blythe and starting for the door. "Oh, one more thing, Blythe." She turned back at the kitchen doorway and waited until she was sure Blythe was paying full attention. "If you bring up John House or refer to him at all at any time during the next two days, even by noting his absence, you will forfeit all visitation rights with your grandkids. John was not invited to our wedding, and Greg doesn't need his presence there." Her tone was absolutely firm, her "I'm in charge" tone that made lawyers and insurance agents yield ground.
Blythe flinched. "I won't," she promised. "I really didn't mean to upset Greg yesterday."
Rachel was starting to gain volume, and Cuddy quickly turned to leave, shaking her head slightly as she headed down the hall. Blythe had made a lot of progress, but her naivety at times still amazed Cuddy. How on earth could anybody knowing the facts not predict that House would be upset by the suggestion that he read a letter 'explaining' his father, let alone read it right before his own wedding? At least House apparently had shot her down immediately instead of dodging, no doubt thanks to Jensen's work over the last several months. Still, he hadn't been himself the whole rest of the evening, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, and he'd seemed utterly drained last night. "You need to have a few therapy sessions on timing, Blythe," she muttered, turning into the nursery. She switched off the monitor and picked up her daughter.
She was just finishing dressing Rachel when House limped into the nursery. He had grabbed an old set of sweat pants and a rock T-shirt, and with his hair still standing on end, he looked adorably rumpled. "Good morning," she said. "Hope Rachel and I didn't wake you. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes," he replied, giving her the honor of not dodging the question. Rachel had immediately started doing flip-flops on the dressing table, trying to reach him, and he came over to hold her still while Cuddy finished. "I . . . apologize for leaving you mostly to handle her last night. I was just . . ."
"Never mind. Turnabout's fair play. You can deal with my parents tonight." She finished with Rachel and picked her up.
"Are we sure we don't want to elope?" House suggested, the old mischievous spark lighting up his blue eyes. His arms wrapped around both of them.
"Mmm. It's tempting, but we've already paid for those flowers. I have to stick around to make sure the florist actually does it right. But please be on your best behavior tonight with my parents, okay?"
"Of course. I'll wait to show them what I'm really like until tomorrow."
Cuddy rolled her eyes. He wasn't serious, merely jerking her chain, but she was glad to see him more like himself this morning. She had been a bit worried about him last night. "By the way, just to warn you, your mother is planning to drop by the hospital for lunch. I've got a lunch scheduled with a donor and his wife, so I can't be backup. Maybe you ought to get Wilson to join you."
"I will." He shook his head. "Ridiculous to need someone to ride shotgun for lunch with your parents. Did I ever tell you about Cameron?"
"What about her?"
"Remember that time my parents were coming through briefly a couple of years ago on their way to Europe?" Cuddy cringed. She definitely remembered that, as did Wilson. Their meddling, as well as their oblivious assumption of House's motives for avoiding his parents, had been inexcusable. "Cameron was all curiosity and was determined to finagle her way into a dinner invitation. In fact, she's the one who blew my cover story to Wilson in the first place. Then Mom and Dad both showed up right as that kid was dying of radiation poisoning, and they refused to let me totally back out of dinner. Insisted on at least a sandwich in the cafeteria. I was just standing up from my desk to walk down there with them when Cameron walked right into the middle of the not-so-happy reunion, pulled out her mental notebook to start analyzing my childhood, and introduced herself. They actually invited her to the cafeteria with us. I was giving her every unspoken signal in the book to back off and leave us alone, bad enough just talking to them . . . to him without her sitting there trying to figure out what makes me tick. That one time, at least, she took the hint and backed off. I even thanked her for it later that night."
Cuddy understood the unspoken compliment to herself. He had wanted her along, granted several years later and with a lot of water under the bridge, but he had seen her as a help instead of one more difficulty. Although to give Cameron credit, she had matured a good bit since then. "Thank you for coming to me last night," she said. "I really do think you dealt with everything yesterday very well, all things considered. But I have a suggestion. Let's not talk about your father the next few days. Unless you need to, of course. But he doesn't belong in our wedding - or on our honeymoon."
House nodded. "Kick him in the virtual testicles," he said softly.
"What?"
"Something Jensen said. He was trying to get me mad." He shook off the memories. "Okay, we are officially changing subjects through the duration of the honeymoon." He reached out to tickle Rachel under the chin. "Come on, let's go rustle up breakfast."
Cuddy was smiling as they headed down the hall, but part of her was already tightening up in anticipation of her own parents' arrival this evening.
