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HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER.
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CHAPTER 10: Please read and comment.
NEXT DAY
SATURDAY MORNING.
Sophie was sitting in Dr. Kenneth Eng's waiting room at NYU Medical Center, flipping through a recent edition of People Magazine, when Chase opened the door that separated the exam area from the waiting room.
"You bored yet?" he asked.
She looked up from the magazine and smiled at him.
"Hey."
He gave her a sweet smile in return and crossed the room to her. Sophie glanced down at his gait briefly, relieved to see that after his two hour LLLT treatment, he was no longer limping and didn't appear to be in any pain.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Good as new," he replied, rocking back and forth on his heels, the gentle smile on his face remaining.
She kept her gaze on him for a moment, studying his face carefully.
She then stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder. She rose up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.
"Feel like taking a walk?" she asked him.
"Sure."
After a subway ride and a few turns, they eventually wound up walking down Fifth Avenue, holding hands, glancing in a store window every now and then.
By the time they had reached the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Sophie was starving.
"Ooh, let's get a hot dog!" she said excitedly upon spotting a Sabrett vendor near the base of the steps of the Museum.
Chase glanced at her with raised eyebrows.
"It's ten- thirty in the morning," he told her, slightly incredulous.
"I know but I'm hungry," she replied with a shrug.
Chase laughed a bit as she basically dragged him over to the vendor, watching her in amusement as she ordered a hot dog loaded with mustard and sauerkraut along with a Sprite.
She moaned in incredible satisfaction as she bit into the hot dog, savoring the meaty, salty and tangy tastes blending on her tongue.
"You're gonna pay for eating that later," he chided her, grinning.
"You mean YOU'RE gonna pay for me eating this later," she clarified.
"Hey I can always go and sleep in the other bed," he teased, wiping a tiny bit of mustard off her lower lip with one of the paper napkins the vendor had given her.
"But if you do that, you won't get the chance to finally feel my humungous boobies tonight," she teased back.
Chase glanced down at her breasts, which by now were practically spilling out of her scoop neck t- shirt at this stage in her pregnancy.
"Touché," he acquiesced, meeting her eyes again.
She laughed, leading him over to the massive steps of the museum, on which tourists and city residents were scattered, either people watching, reading, chatting, or just enjoying the warm weather that late Saturday morning.
They found an empty part of the steps in the middle of the staircase and sat down.
"So tell me what Eng really said," she told him once they got comfortable, taking another bite of her hot dog.
Chase's grin faded into a tiny, closed- lipped smile, once again amazed how she could read him so well.
"He said that I'll most likely have to come back every few months," he admitted.
"…Which means the pain will most likely come back," she realized.
"Yeah," he agreed in a resigned manner.
She gave him a sympathetic smile, to which he shrugged lightly.
"Looks like I won't be taking you snowboarding anytime soon," he joked half- heartedly, taking the hot dog from her to snag a bite from it.
"And you actually think I'd get on a snowboard while I'm incubating your kid?" she said, grinning at him.
He chuckled and took a bite, trying not to dwell on his limitations. She gazed at him fondly as he chewed, knowing that he was disappointed. After another bite, he gave her back the rest.
"…Jimmy's really nervous about my parents meeting Ingrid tonight," Sophie said casually changing the subject as she placed the hot dog back in the paper tray that the vendor had given to her.
"Even with us there?" Chase asked.
"I think it's gonna be even worse that we're there," she replied.
"Why do you say that?" he asked her, nicking a sip of her soda.
"Because when we tell everyone tonight at dinner that I proposed to you today, Jimmy's gonna get the third degree from my mother," she told him, keeping a straight face.
Chase snorted at first, placing the soda can back down on the steps, not fully processing what she had just said.
She pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes dancing as she watched him wipe his lips with another napkin and crush it into a ball in his fist, waiting patiently for her words to sink in to his brain.
And then they did.
He turned to her, a blank expression on his face, the napkin still in his hand.
"… What?" he finally asked.
Her eyes glimmering, she opened her purse and took out a tiny, black leather box with gold trim and handed it to him.
"I want my cotton bras and panties to get mixed in with your laundry again," she told him, smiling.
Dumbfounded, he slowly took the box from her and opened it.
Inside was a men's style engagement ring, a Tioro titanium band set with a tiny diamond and decorated with two gold parallel grooved lines that went around the circumference of the ring.
All he could do was stare at it, flabbergasted.
Grinning broadly at his reaction, she touched his face, which finally caused him to look up at her. His lips were still parted in shock.
"Robert Chase… will you marry me?" she asked him.
Still holding the ring box, his stunned expression gave way to a broad smile.
And then he nodded, finally dropping the paper napkin.
"Yeah," he said.
"Yeah?" she repeated gleefully.
He cupped her cheek, leaned in and kissed her, his lips enveloping hers with passion and tenderness.
"Yeah," he breathed against her.
Deepening their kiss, they pulled each other close, oblivious to the light smattering of applause from nosy onlookers on the steps. Eventually they gently broke off their kiss, smiling happily at each other as she took the ring out of the box for him.
"When did you get this?" he asked her, watching her slip the ring onto his left ring finger.
"This morning, while you were getting your treatment," she confessed coyly.
He couldn't take the smile off his face.
"You're a little sneak," he told her, to which she nodded eagerly.
"Do you like it?" she asked, not certain that Chase would want to wear a men's engagement ring.
"I love it," he replied sincerely.
"And you," he added, kissing her again.
"So are you really gonna let me feel your boobies tonight?" he asked hopefully in between kisses.
"I guess I have to now, right?" she quipped.
Later that day, House rode his motorcycle to Wilson's place, desperate for a distraction.
Cuddy had decided that she wanted some frozen yogurt, so she decided to take a quick drive to a nearby strip mall to get some.
Always in the mood to eat, House had actually suggested going out and getting it for her.
But she adamantly refused, saying that she hadn't been out of the house in three days and that she needed to get out for her entitled hour of freedom that Sobol had allotted her every few days.
"You're not going out by yourself," House had told her dismissively.
"I don't need a babysitter to get some yogurt," she stated defiantly.
"You haven't been out of the house without me or Laidee since Sobol put you on bed rest. I'm not going to give into you just because you have a craving," he told her.
"Yes you will. Because if you don't, even if Sobol DOES clear us for sex, you won't be having any," she had shot back.
Ten minutes later, Cuddy had tipped out the door, all smiles.
And since then, House had been forcing himself not to think the worst.
Upon reaching Wilson's door, he rapped on it with his cane loudly over the sound of the vacuum cleaner that he heard on the other side of the door.
Wilson answered the door abruptly, not even bothering to look at him for more than a moment before turning back into the living room.
"Take your shoes off and don't touch anything," Wilson told him.
House's eyebrows arched significantly as he watched Wilson head back to the couch and continue vacuuming underneath the cushions.
"You're vacuuming underneath the couch cushions!" House yelled over the din of the vacuum.
"You should be doing this. Most of the crumbs under here are from you," Wilson called back.
Having no desire to continue competing with a household appliance, House headed over to the wall and yanked the cord to the vacuum out of the outlet. Wilson lolled his head back in frustration, exhaling loudly.
"You're nervous about your parents meeting Ingrid tonight, so you're obsessively cleaning," House declared.
"Oh so you never get nervous when your mom comes into town?" Wilson asked defensively.
"I'm never nervous enough to clean the way you're cleaning right now," House argued.
"You never CLEAN," Wilson reminded him.
"So what is it? You think your mom won't like her or you think your dad will like her too much?" House snarked.
"I already called off a wedding this year. Now I'm seeing someone again. I can already hear my mother: 'So what's the story with this one?' 'Am I planning another wedding that I'll have to cancel? Let me know so I can buy a dress that I can return,'" Wilson said, his voice getting a little higher as he imitated his mother.
"Didn't realize that your parents want you to be alone for the rest of your life," House commented, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.
"I think they want their 40 year old son to settle down already," Wilson muttered as he walked back over to the wall to plug in the vacuum again.
"Do YOU want to settle down?" House asked.
At this, Wilson stopped in mid- bend before picking up the vacuum cord.
"…I'd like to eventually," he sighed.
"With Ingrid?" House pressed.
"We just started dating. It's too early to start thinking like that," Wilson said dismissively.
"Since WHEN?" House demanded. "You marry everybody!"
Wilson snorted. "So what are you doing here leaving Cuddy home all alone?" he asked, changing the subject skillfully.
House narrowed his eyes a bit, knowing all too well that Wilson was deflecting.
But for some reason, he didn't feel like calling him on it.
"Cuddy had a craving for frozen yogurt," House mumbled, sliding off the arm of the couch and landing on the couch itself.
"She went out by herself?" Wilson asked with interest.
House shrugged, not answering him, suddenly becoming fascinated by the random patterns in Wilson living room carpet.
"How are you holding up?" Wilson asked him.
"I'm fine," House said with a grimace.
"You're not nervous," Wilson stated in disbelief, furrowing his brow.
"About what?"
"Cuddy's in her second trimester and still on limited bed rest. She's out alone… not under your watchful eye—" Wilson began in a leading tone.
"I'm at work all day. She's not under my watchful eye then," House pointed out in annoyance.
"Sophie told me that you pay Laidee extra to make sure that Cuddy only stays out for an hour," Wilson declared, folding his arms, a self- righteous smile appearing.
"I think it's time that Sophie learned how to do a prostate check in the Clinic next week," House decided.
Just then, Wilson's cell phone rang in his pocket.
Upon hearing the sound, House immediately and nervously dug his hand into his own jeans pocket at the same time, pulling out his phone quickly.
But when Wilson flipped open his own phone, House then realized with some embarrassment that it wasn't his phone that had rang.
"Hi honey," Wilson said on the other end.
House covertly slipped his phone back into his pocket.
"…What's in it?" Wilson said after a pause.
"… Ok… sounds good," he added.
Wilson then smiled after another pause in the conversation.
"I miss you too, Docinho," Wilson said into the phone, at which House popped an eyebrow. "See you soon."
"Ingrid's planning on making a pudim de leite moça tonight," Wilson told him, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
"What was that?" House demanded.
"It's a Brazilian dessert. I don't know," Wilson replied.
"Not that. What you CALLED her," House clarified impatiently.
"Oh, 'docinho?' It's a term of endearment. It means, 'sweetie'" Wilson explained.
House smirked and shook his head. "You're whipped."
"Yeah, and you're not," Wilson shot back accusingly. "I saw you reach for your phone."
"That's because a phone rang," House said pedantically.
"My ring is completely different from your ring. There's NO way you could've mistaken it," Wilson stated.
House exhaled, avoiding Wilson's pointed stare.
"Yeah. You're not nervous at all, House," Wilson said sarcastically.
While House was at Wilson's apartment, Cuddy was finishing up the pomegranate frozen yogurt topped with mini dark chocolate chips she had ordered at Red Mango as she strolled down the sidewalk of the strip mall, once in a while gazing into the windows of the boutiques along the way.
She stopped in front of Katy Jades, a posh baby and children's boutique, admiring the display in the window of onesies, receiving blankets and tiny shoes for both boys and girls.
She knew just by the look of the items that the merchandise inside the store had to be ridiculously overpriced.
But instead of resuming her walk, she quickly finished whatever was left of her yogurt and went inside the store.
Her heart fluttered just a bit upon entering the boutique, which was lavishly adorned with antique cribs, dressers and other layette items. Cuddy slowly made her way around the front of the store, her fingertips delicately brushing the items, trying not to get too excited by her surroundings.
"Can I help you?" a female voice asked nearby.
Cuddy looked up from the frilly onesie she was currently looking at to see a petite brunette, dressed impeccably in a wheat colored knee length skirt and a conservative cut light pink sleeveless silk blouse.
Cuddy suddenly felt underdressed in her yoga pants, cotton tank and sneakers.
"Just looking," she said politely.
"Is this your first?" the woman pressed cheerfully.
"…Yes," Cuddy answered reluctantly.
"How far along are you?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" Cuddy asked, her eyebrow arching slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable with the question.
"Our registry is very popular. And if you're early enough in your pregnancy, there would be plenty of time to order any custom items you might be interested in," the woman replied in a friendly manner.
Cuddy nodded, realizing that the woman's question was merely a sales pitch and not an invasion of her privacy.
"I'll have to come back with my husband if I'm going to register," Cuddy replied in an attempt to back her off, thinking to herself that House would never agree to have such frou- frou items for their child.
"Of course. Feel free to look around," the woman replied, turning on her heel, losing interest in Cuddy because she wasn't planning on buying anything today.
Cuddy nodded with a twisted smile, relieved that the perky woman had lost interest in her.
As she continued to walk around the boutique, a tiny voice inside her piped up, reminding her that she was only in her thirteenth week and that it was still too early to be thinking this way.
She had made it to the end of her first trimester, the furthest she had ever been in any pregnancy.
She rubbed her swollen belly, wondering if she was tempting fate by even being in the store.
"I'M JUST LOOKING," she convinced herself. "IT'S NOT LIKE I'M BUYING ANYTHING."
"AND GREG WOULD HATE EVERYTHING IN HERE ANYWAY," she reminded herself.
Suddenly, a neon green and purple crib with the word the word 'Gravedigger' spray painted on the side flashed into her mind. She pressed her lips together to avoid laughing out loud in the middle of the boutique.
With that image in her mind, she left the store, deciding to wait until after her twenty week appointment to shop for a layette.
"I WONDER IF THEY MAKE ONESIES WITH SKULLS AND CROSSBONES ON THEM," she thought to herself with a grin.
TBC…
TO SEE A PICTURE OF CHASE'S ENGAGEMENT RING, CLICK ON THE LINK IN MY PROFILE. :D