Part Ten
An Act of Malice
Lisa Cuddy had planned to use the time away from her family and the office to reflect on her marriage, but now that she was actually in California, she didn't want to think about her problems. She wanted to enjoy the early morning sunlight. She wanted to drink fresh-squeezed orange juice on the balcony and feel happy. When House came out to join her, Cuddy shut her eyes to block him out. She didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to analyze her emotions or make decisions. She just wanted peace.
House poured himself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the table, and looked at her intently, as if this close observation would reveal to him what she was thinking and feeling. Even with her eyes shut, Cuddy could feel the intensity of his gaze.
"James loves me," she said, after a long interval of silence. She opened her eyes.
"Sometimes that's not enough," House said.
"You're thinking of you and Stacy," Lisa said.
"As an example. There are plenty of others. My parents. Fifty years together, and the only reason they've lasted is that they live completely separate lives. My mother has her friends and family and my father has the military. Look at Wilson's parents. They never talk; they hardly even look at each other. I want more for you. I think you deserve more."
"You said that you thought "the marriage of true minds" was an unrealistic goal."
"It is, but that doesn't mean that I think that you should settle for what you've got now."
"I didn't "settle" for James," Cuddy said angrily. "I didn't marry your sidekick because I couldn't land you. And if you think you're better..."
"I think that when it comes to personal relationships, Wilson and I are probably about even. Neither of us is a very good bargain."
"But last night you were asking me to leave James for you."
"I said whether or not you leave Wilson is up to you," he said. "You and I are a separate issue. What we have is between us. It has nothing to do with him."
"You can't honestly believe that," Lisa said. "Of course it has to do with him. We're talking about having an affair."
"If that's what you want to call it." House said, irritated by Cuddy's insistence on defining the terms of a relationship that didn't even exist yet.
Everything would have been so much easier if Lisa had just given in to her attraction the previous night. If they had been swept up by a passion they could not control, Wilson would have felt compelled to forgiven them. Wilson understood human frailty, and it was his nature to forgive.
Now, every word that House and Lisa said would make their eventual affair that much more planned and premeditated. It was becoming harder for House to justify his own actions. Even Wilson would find it extremely difficult, perhaps impossible, to forgive House for such a deliberate betrayal.
The buzz of an intercom mercifully interrupted a conversation which had become uncomfortable for both of them. The driver had arrived to take them to the Andersen corporate headquarters.
--
James Wilson's schedule was a nightmare – appointments, staff meetings and conference calls, one after the other. He spent the morning breathless and apologetic, leaving early from one meeting and arriving late for the next. There was no time for a coffee or even a bathroom break. He spotted Julie as he was rushing from one appointment to another, but stopping to say hello would have made him impossibly late. He waved to her as he squeezed himself into a crowded elevator just before the doors shut. At one-thirty Wilson finally had his first break of the day - twenty minutes to bolt down a quick sandwich and pour himself a much needed cup of coffee. If he was lucky, he might be able to squeeze in a quick telephone call to Lisa, as well.
He hadn't counted on the scene that greeted him when he got off the elevator on his floor. Julie was being confronted by his departmental secretary and a pair of security guards. Wilson's secretary was red-faced with anger, but Julie maintained an icy hauteur.
"You don't have an appointment. You've got to leave," the secretary said.
"I told you," she said, enunciating extremely precisely, as if she were talking to someone with a limited grasp of spoken English, "that I am waiting for Dr. James Wilson, and I have no intention of leaving until I see him. If anyone touches me, I am suing that person for assault."
The security officers did not look at all unnerved by the prospect of litigation and advanced towards her. A small audience began to gather, drawn by raised voices and the possibility of violence. Wilson spotted Tony Crane at the edge of the crowd. House's fellow was smirking, enjoying the prospect of seeing Julie dragged away like a criminal.
"Don't!" Wilson called to security, "I'm Dr. Wilson. There's been a misunderstanding. Julie was waiting to see me. "
Wilson ignored the baleful glance of the departmental secretary, which told him exactly what she thought about the company that he was keeping, and opened the door to his office for Julie. He followed her in. The disappointed crowd dispersed.
"Did you have to get into an argument with my secretary?" he asked. "She's going to subject me to the silent treatment for at least a week. I really don't like starting each day with her looking at me like I'm something the cat coughed up. "
Julie ignored his complaint and sat down on the couch. Wilson went to his desk and picked up his phone.
"I was going to get you a list of shelters, wasn't I? I'll call one of the social workers right now," said Wilson.
"Don't bother. I'm not here for a list of shelters," Julie said. "I came here to talk to you. I was going to say that I came to the hospital to see a sick friend and decided to drop by your office on a whim, but I know you've been avoiding me all morning, so that's not going to work."
"I've had a very busy schedule today."
"And obviously you think I have nothing better to do with my time then hang around here waiting for a few seconds of your time like some pathetic, desperately lonely stalker."
"I didn't say that," Wilson protested. "If you had phoned me to let you know you were coming..."
"Hiding in this horrible maze of a place. It brings back memories of our marriage," Julie said bitterly.
"I wasn't hiding; I was working."
"Yes, the sick and dying always did take precedence over me. And staff meetings, and paperwork and, of course, House. Where is House anyway? I would have thought he'd have barged in by now. He never could stand it when I came to see you at the hospital. He hates it when I invade his territory."
"House is out of town," Wilson said. "Julie, I really don't want to rehash old arguments today. I don't have the time or the energy. What do you want? "
"You are looking peaky," Julie said, eying her ex-husband. "A little worn around the edges. I'm not surprised. Lisa Cuddy is a very demanding woman."
Wilson sighed.
"Oh, don't look so long-suffering," Julie said. "You've kept me waiting all morning and I haven't had anything to eat, so I'm a little bitchy. What do you expect? Put me in a better mood by taking me out for lunch."
"Why don't you just tell me why you came to see me?"
"That was blunt bordering on rude. Cuddy is definitely rubbing off on you. "
Wilson stood up and faced her sternly, hands on hips. He was becoming impatient with Julie's games.
"Fine, I won't mention your new wife again. I've come to talk about Carl. I need some objective advice, and unfortunately I don't have anyone else to talk to. My family is an embarrassment, and my best friend Claire ...Claire died three months ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Ovarian cancer. It was very quick."
"I didn't know."
"She went to Princeton General. I told her that she should see you - that you were the best - but she thought it would be awkward. It was just like her to be more concerned about social embarrassment than cancer."
Julie eyes filled with tears. Wilson came over and sat down next to Julie on the couch. He put his arm around her to comfort her. Julie leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He pulled a tissue from the pocket of his lab coat and handed it to her.
Wilson held her and rocked her back and forth as she cried.
--
From the balcony outside Wilson's office, Tony Crane took another couple of shots with his cellphone camera. Lighting conditions were far from perfect, and most of the photos were unusable, but the remaining few told an interesting story. Quietly he edged toward the balcony wall and climbed over; then let himself back into House's empty office.
--
Andrea met House and Cuddy in the lobby, a cold and forbidding space of glass and steel. She handed them their visitor's badges and lead them to the elevators.
"Here's your agenda for the day," she said, handing Cuddy a sheet of paper. "House and the other subjects have a short meet and greet and then there's a questionnaire for House to fill out. We can meet for lunch afterwards. Then you're free until six, when Alan Andersen is hosting a reception for all for you all. I can't stick around, but you have my cellphone number if you need me."
--
The "meet and greet" was mainly an opportunity for Andersen employees to get their photographs in the company magazine. Various managers and supervisors had their pictures taken with the test subjects (the celebrity chef was especially popular) while House raided the food table, especially favouring the chocolate-filled croissants.
Then House and the other unconventional thinkers were led off for the first round of questions. The research assistant assigned to House had freckles and chipmunk cheeks. She looked like a child playing the part of a doctor in an elementary school play. She led House to a small room sparsely furnished with a table and two chairs and gave House a survey to complete and an HB pencil. She told him that she would be back in seventy-five minutes to collect it and disappeared out the door.
House looked at the "questionnaire". It was actually the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, a widely-used psychological test used to assess and diagnose mental illness and one with which he was thoroughly familiar. It had absolutely nothing to do with innovative thinking.
House amused himself by answering the questions as if he were Samantha Hart, one of his favourite soap opera characters. Samantha was a pregnant seventeen-year-old shop-lifter with multiple personality disorder. When she felt frightened and in danger, she usually became Nikita, a tough-talking and sometimes violent lesbian. Once in a while, she became Savannah instead, a flirtatious Dixie belle with the most unconvincing Southern accent House had ever heard. House liked Savannah best, and he let her answer most of the questions.
--
Lisa had brought her laptop and cellphone with her so that she could keep in touch with the hospital. Sitting in the reception area with her laptop balanced on her knees, she reviewed grant proposals and requests for clinical trials. She checked her e-mail at regular intervals. Methodically, she deleted most of them, responded to a few, and sent others to folders organized by topic and date.
One of the e-mails was labelled urgent. It was from one of the emergency room physicians: "A serious problem requires your immediate attention. Please open the attachment for details." Lisa was annoyed by the cryptic wording of Dr. Ghoreshi's message, but she opened the attachment anyway. It was a photograph of James and Julie. James was embracing his ex-wife.
Lisa closed the attachment. She shut her eyes, wanting to erase the sight of that photograph from her memory, but the grainy, unfocused picture was much more vivid in her mind's eye than it had been on the screen. The photograph on the screen had been too blurry for her to make out either person's facial expression, but Lisa's imagination gave Julie a triumphant, feral grin. Her memories of their wedding supplied James with a look of tenderness, devotion and love. She felt nauseous. The pure pain the image evoked was astonishing. She had to gasp for breath.
While she waited for the symptoms of a sudden emotional shock to subside (putting a name to her physical symptoms did nothing to alleviate them), Lisa tried to decide what to do. Amidst all the confusion and uncertainty, only one thing was clear. She loved James Wilson.