Chapter 10

Julia wouldn't be convinced by any of House's arguments that she wasn't responsible for all of the bad things that had happened to her family. She refused to talk about it any longer.

House decided the best thing to do was bide his time for the moment. Besides, if she was upset about that it might impede his chances of getting sex.

And he was enjoying the sex. Why not? Julia was lovely and a very eager lover. She wasn't a conventional beauty. Living on San P gave her a constant tan and other than moisturizer, she wore no cosmetics. He skin was clear and golden. Her hair was not fashionably styled, but it was always washed and neatly combed. Usually she held it back with a headband, thought sometimes she put it in a short ponytail.

Her sense of style certainly hadn't come off a New York runway. She wore shorts that fell mid-thigh or to her knees and loose t-shirts or tank tops with sandals or tennis shoes. He'd seen her in jeans once, but that was the extent of her wardrobe, other than a kerchief and a hat.

And of course, there were the glasses. She told him she used to wear contact lenses, but they'd worn out and she hadn't bothered to replace them. She hadn't even had the glasses replaced since she'd been there.

In other circumstances, he would never have even looked at her. But the circumstances were not normal. He was on a tropical island, afraid to return home.

At first, it was a case of any port in a storm.

But as he'd gotten to know her, he began to appreciate her natural beauty. She didn't need all those other enhancements that most women used. And her personality made her head and shoulders above all the beauty queens he'd seen.

Despite the sadness in her eyes, she had a way with people, even him. She truly cared about everyone. Sometimes it annoyed him, but he understood that was part of her makeup. And making her smile was a challenge, but one he enjoyed and always tried to do.

However, one morning, that was not going to happen. He had just gotten up and was about to pour some coffee when Julia came running into the cabin.

"Greg, you have to come with me! There's something wrong with Mrs. Lassiter."

He had a feeling he knew what was 'wrong' with the old woman, but he asked anyway. "Why do you think something is wrong?"

"She's not moving."

He stared at her. "Julia…"

"Look, please just come and see if there's anything you can do. Please?"

He couldn't resist her pleading eyes, so he nodded and returned to the bedroom. Seconds later he had on his jeans and a t-shirt as well as his sneakers.

They got into the golf cart and Julia drove it as quickly as she could towards Mrs. Lassiter's house.

She ran ahead of him inside. When he got there, she was in the bedroom beside the old woman's bed. He didn't need to get any closer, he could tell from the first view. But he knew Julia wouldn't be satisfied unless he went through the motions.

He went to the bed, picked up the limp wrist from the bed and held it for a few moments.

"No pulse. Sorry, Julia, she's gone."

"Maybe you could do CPR or something."

He shook his head. "She's cold and I can tell by her coloring, she's been dead for a few hours at least."

He saw the tears pool in her eyes and he pulled her into his arms.

"You knew this was coming. She was old and sick. And she was ready to go."

"I know all of that. But I really liked her. I didn't want…" she broke off as the tears came down and her voice broke into sobs.

He held her for awhile, then he called the local constable and the undertaker to come and take care of the body. Julia refused to leave until they came.

"I can't leave her alone." She insisted.

"She's not here."

"I'm not leaving."

He sighed and just sat there with her until the others arrived and transported her to the undertaker's home. Then they got back into the golf cart and House drove them back to the cabin.

"Why don't you take it easy today?" he asked her.

"That's always your answer, isn't it? Just goof off and pretend nothing happened, and everything will be okay."

He stared at her. It wasn't like her to talk like that.

She knew it too. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take off on you like that. I know you're just trying to be nice."

No one called him 'nice' as much as the people of San P and especially Julia, in his entire life.

"I'm not trying to be nice. I'm just trying to get you to not be so bummed out."

"I can't help it."

"Yeah, I know. If I'd had a patient whose heart bled as much as yours does, I'd have pronounced him dead a long time ago."

She smiled weakly, but it was a smile nonetheless.

Somehow she got through the rest of her day and the next one. Mrs. Lassiter's funeral was the following one. She was buried in the small cemetery near the church, in a plot beside her husband. Several island residents were there and most of them said a few words at the memorial, but Julia couldn't bring herself to speak of the woman she'd cared so much for.

After the funeral, Wayne Brockton, the only lawyer on the island stopped her.

"Julia, I'd like to talk to you about Mrs. Lassiter's will."

"What about it?" Julia asked him.

"Well, you're in it."

"I am? She left me something? How sweet. Probably one of her home made quilts. I always admired them."

Wayne looked at her oddly. "Can I come by Tom's later so that we can talk?"

The man didn't have an office. He'd been a powerful attorney in New York at one of the most prestigious law firms, but he'd burned out and had a bit of a breakdown. That's when he'd come to San P. He only practiced law as a service to the people on the island. He didn't keep an office, just carried around a laptop when necessary.

A few hours later when he walked into the bar, he had the laptop bag under his arm. He approached the bar where House, Julia and Tom were chatting.

"Can we go sit at a table, Julia?"

"Why? Just tell me what she left me and have a drink."

The man looked away, then back at her. "I'd rather do this at a table."

The expression on the man's face caught House's attention. "Come on, Julia, let's go sit at a table with him."

Julia shrugged. "If you insist."

They walked to a corner table and sat down. Wayne hesitated before speaking and Julia got impatient.

"Just tell me what she left me for goodness sake!"

"Everything."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Lassiter's late husband had been an investment banker, back at a time when that meant a lot. After he retired, he held on to all of his investments and they are substantial. They built their house here and paid cash for it. They had more than enough money to live here very comfortably without even touching most of their principle investments.

"Neither of them had families and they had no children together. All they had was each other."

"And a lot of dough it seems." House put in.

"Yes, they did." Wayne agreed.

Julia was speechless, just staring at the two men.

"So, Julia, she left the house, all its contents, her savings and stocks to you. Everything."

"Everything?" Julia said in a whisper.

"Yes."

"I – I just don't understand. She's only known me a short time."

"You cared about her. And you care about this place and the people. She knew that you would do something to help them with the house and money."

"What? What am I expected to do?"

"You're not expected to do anything. You could take the money and move to a classier island if you wanted and do nothing with it. You can give it all to your favorite charity. She didn't specify, there are no caveats. She just felt that you would do something good with it, knowing the person you are."

Julia didn't know what to say to that.

Wayne rose. "I'll bring some papers by tomorrow for you to sign. There really isn't any hurry to do anything. The house is paid for and the investments will take care of themselves. The broker that handles them will be given your name and may require your signature from time to time. That's it for the moment."

He bid them both goodbye and left the bar. Julia was still in shock. House watched her for a bit before finally saying, "So I guess you're buying dinner tonight?"

She chuckled and relaxed a bit. But she knew she had a lot to think about.

A/N: Hey, hope everyone's still reading. Haven't gotten a lot of responses, but I'm still writing.