Chapter 11
Her coming here was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! […] It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! […] And his behaviour, so strikingly altered, - what could it mean? […] never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. [Pride and Prejudice Ch. 43]
Autumn 2009
'Awkward' didn't even begin to describe her situation. These past weeks since House's return from Mayfield Cuddy had avoided House as much as possible, but whenever that hadn't been possible, she had deflected the conversation from personal issues. At first it had worked well; in fact, she had gained the impression that he had moved on and wasn't interested in a personal relationship any more. But lately he had shown some interest again, sometimes in rather a sweet way, and she had been hard put to avoid a show-down that might hurt his feelings. Avoiding situations that might provoke a declaration of his feelings and force her to show her hand seemed the best strategy. But now she had to spend two days in close proximity with him, and she only had herself to blame. She had been foolish to ignore the possibility that Wilson, conscientious and over-protective as ever, might decide to take him along to the conference.
It didn't make matters any easier that House had been unusually considerate and open ever since his return from Mayfield. Okay, he still tried to jerk her around occasionally, but the cruel edge was gone, and he actually seemed to have stopped deflecting whenever things got personal. His "you make me feel funny" had made her feel funny, too. It was a bitter-sweet reminder of what might have been, if only they had ...
Well, there was no use in going down that road. He had chosen the path to self-destruction that had terminated in Mayfield, and she, she had moved on. There was little sense in pondering what might have been if he had been the man he seemed now. He simply hadn't been that man, and now it was too late. She'd had to choose, and she had chosen the path of self-preservation for herself and for her daughter. His stay in Mayfield, originally projected at three weeks, had dragged on interminably, all forms of contact had been denied, and there had been no guarantee that he'd ever recover sufficiently to return to Princeton, so ultimately she had given up on him. She had been lonely and vulnerable, and Lucas Douglas was sweet and caring. He was clever, attractive and funny, and he was a family man. No, she had no reason to regret her choice. But she owed it to House to break the news gently, with as little hurt and humiliation as possible. Lucas didn't understand that; he thought that House was as tough as the outer shell that he presented to the world at large, but she knew better. She was pretty sure that he cultivated that shell to protect an ultra-soft kernel within, a mess of inferiority complexes, insecurity and unresolved conflicts. Unfortunately, that shell hadn't been much in evidence lately, and Cuddy feared very much that a disclosure of her relationship with Lucas would, now that House was open and showing vulnerability, lead to some kind of major show-down or even provoke a relapse. And that was not an outcome that Cuddy wished to be responsible for: she had helped to cripple him, she had enabled his Vicodin addiction for years, and she had been so tied up with Rachel that she hadn't noticed he was having a break-down. The last thing she needed now was the guilt that would ensue if she pushed him over the edge again.
Driving down to the conference in Wilson's car and pretending to be engrossed in her conference notes while the men bickered in a good-natured manner in the front, she devised three rules to see her through the weekend.
Rule no. 1: Avoid House as much as possible. If you can't do that, then apply Rule no. 2.
Rule no. 2: Avoid creating false hopes by showing him gently, but firmly that you're NOT interested.
Rule no. 3: Avoid unnecessary stress by keeping Lucas Douglas a secret.
Rule no. 1 went down the drain first thing that very evening. She saw him arrive at the 80's party, a prominent figure not only because of his height, but also because of that ridiculous wig and tailcoat that he was sporting. It would have been simplicity itself to submerge in the crowd and get out of there long before he spotted her. Instead, she allowed her amusement at his devious sense of humour get the better of her, and advanced towards him. This was the House she knew and liked: quirky, surprising, and unpredictable, hence her gut reaction. Besides, although she hadn't been at the party for very long, she was bored stiff already. Doctors in general could be a dreary bunch; that wasn't something that could be changed by letting them have a juvenile dressing-up party coupled with unlimited access to alcoholic beverages. House promised relief from the tedium, for he was never boring. Nor had she any illusions as to the outcome that a number of her colleagues probably envisaged for the evening, namely hitting on an attractive specimen of the opposite sex and having a short fling, with the spouse at home none the wiser. Females being a minority at the conference, she had already had to ward off several undesired advances. The uplift in her mood on seeing him was, as she firmly told herself, relief at not having to deal with the advances of Dr. 'Ghostbuster' and had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was House who had rescued her.
Rule no.2 niggled at the back of her mind when she allowed him to pull her into a slow dance, but she pushed it firmly into her subconscious, telling herself that she, and he, could surely handle one little dance after an acquaintanceship that spanned twenty years. Nor did she see any harm in indulging in a few college reminiscences – it wasn't as if their 'association' there had led to anything. Much to the contrary, in fact, for his desertion after their one-night-stand had rankled for a long time. She had come to the conclusion that he must have avoided her on purpose after that, for not only had he never called, but she had never actually seen him around the campus again, not even in any of his favourite haunts. And yes, she had frequented his favourite haunts, the library and the cafeteria, in the hope of bumping into him casually.
Rule no. 3 was driven out of her mind completely when House disclosed that the only reason he had been conspicuously absent from her life after their fling was because he had been expelled from medical school the next morning. She hoped (and feared) for one moment that this was a House scam, but looking up into his eyes she saw that he was serious and that the disclosure was absolutely intentional. She could picture his reaction to his expulsion clearly: House, humiliated at being expelled, not daring to get in contact with the over-achiever of the year, fearing that she would despise him for not being able to take the straight and narrow road to medical qualification. House, rationalizing his fear of rejection by telling himself that it wasn't worth the bother staying in contact with her if he was to attend another medical school from now on, that long-distance relationships were doomed anyway, that they were too different for a successful relationship, and besides, it had only been sex.
The message was clear: House had been interested in her then, and his eyes said he was interested now. No ambiguity there. What she should do was clear enough: a tight smile, some statement to the effect that that all this was history, a slight withdrawal out of his embrace, and a decided change of topic to show her unwillingness to go down that road - that was how she would have handled the situation, had she been in control of it. But she wasn't. Her feelings were in turmoil. There was a wash of relief that she hadn't been just another notch on his bedpost. But stronger than this balm to her wounded pride was dismay that she'd got herself into a situation that offered him a chance to display his feelings, and panic at the thought of what would ensue if she didn't manage to stop House from making an unmistakeable move on her. And underneath all that, hardly registering consciously, an unseen current, but pulling all the stronger for that, was the unacknowledged truth that she was still susceptible to him and that, contrary to all her inner protestations, she had provoked this moment of intimacy. She had wanted to know whether she still had any power over him, but now that she knew, disgust at her own selfishness and callousness overcame her. She left him standing on the dance floor and fled to her room, determined to take whatever steps were necessary for her to start acting in a mature and responsible manner once more.
Back in her room, she punched in Lucas' number hastily without thinking about the consequences. Could he come up as soon as possible, Rachel was teething and being a bit of a bother, and tomorrow in the early afternoon was the infectious disease panel that she absolutely had to attend? Lucas had an observation scheduled for the night, but he thought he could make it by mid-morning. Cuddy sighed in relief as she put down the phone. Rachel really was teething and tomorrow did promise to be strenuous unless she got some sort of care for her. Seeing Lucas would help her to set her skewered priorities right again and to keep in mind what she gained out of a relationship with him. Lucas was supportive, whereas House was demanding; Lucas was cheerful, House morose; Lucas always put her and Rachel on the top of his agenda, whereas House resented Rachel and was liable to forget all about her if he was involved in one of his cases. Having good-natured, good-humoured and sane Lucas around would make her see all the more clearly how lucky she was to have escaped from the bedlam and chaos that surrounded House.
It was only when Lucas arrived late the next morning that Rule no. 3 suddenly reared its ugly head again.
