Chapter Fourteen

Dinner was an interesting affair. Much like at the hotel, Greg was waited on hand and foot. Aunt Sarah and Jo were interested to learn more about him, assuming Blythe knew all there was to know. The three ladies each had their expectations of him.

Greg never liked giving speeches - let alone ones about himself. He didn't know what his mother had told them about her interpretation of his life. What did he feel comfortable about saying?

"I don't know what to tell you. I work at a hospital. That's pretty much my life."

"Do you have a specialty?" Joanne seemed genuinely curious.

"I'm dually boarded in Nephrology and Infectious Diseases."

"Do they necessarily have a direct correlation?"

"Not always. Individually, they have their pros and cons, but I wouldn't want to limit myself to either. So I run the Diagnostics Department at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"So you're a professor!" Jo was excited to hear that.

"No exactly. I don't have a PhD or teach classes."

"Huh," she intoned with a hint of disappointment. Her enthusiasm was all but gone.

"Greg takes the cases that no one else can solve. He has a team of doctors who work with him," Blythe explained.

"Sorry, I lead a pretty boring life," he shrugged. "What do you do?"

"I was an Event Planner. I'm temporarily unemployed in this economy."

"You didn't plan Aon's last Christmas trip to Bermuda, by any chance."

"No, but before they froze his assets, I was hired to plan Bernie Madoff's going away party."

"Well, unemployment seems to be the trend across the country. Lucky for me people still get sick." He continued eating, really relishing in her cooking.

"Greg, don't you think that was a little bit insensitive?" Blythe was embarrassed. He managed to insult two of the three people with him at the table.

He inhaled deeply through his nose while rolling his eyes. He looked directly to Joanne, then to his aunt. "I'm not exactly the suave character you probably heard I was. My mouth runs faster than my brain sometimes." Jo's eyes were dark grey with green centers. He could see it as they bored into his own.

"Don't worry Blythe, he didn't mean anything by it. It's like admitting there are only two certainties in American life: death and taxes."

"Exactly." Greg was glad she wasn't upset.

"So what do you do for fun, Greg?"

"That's not really a word in my vocabulary," he admitted abashedly.

"Too bad. I was hoping we could all do something enjoyable in our time before Thanksgiving. I hear you haven't taken a vacation in a long time."

"No, I haven't. What did you have in mind?" Greg sat back patting his now full stomach. "THAT was excellent."

"Thank you." She got up and started clearing the table. "I'm not sure what you're up for. This is one of the only places where you can go surfing and snow skiing in the same day - hours apart, actually."

"I doubt Mom and Aunt Sarah are up for either," Greg said matter-of-factly.

"I have an appointment tomorrow and your mom's going to go with me. We thought you and Jo could spend some time together."

The look that Blythe gave Sarah did not go unnoticed by Greg. The moment of truth had revealed itself. This was a set up. He wondered if Joanne was in on it or an unwilling patsy. No. She was well aware it would be just the two of them. Hence her extreme sports suggestions. It only let him know that she hadn't been told he was a cripple.

"If you'd rather just do your own thing, that's okay too." Jo gave him an out when she returned to the table.

"Doing my own thing would require a lack of enthusiasm, staying in my jammies all day and lounging about in bed." He intentionally left out the part about watching porn. "I didn't fly all this way to do nothing."

"Well, there is a lot to do. Some of it requires a bit of walking." Joanne seemed to hesitate after speaking. Her plans of hiking the canyons, horseback riding, shopping and even the most basic of activities might prove difficult for him.

"The Pacific Ocean is one place I have to revisit. My friend Wilson would never forgive me if I didn't take advantage of that. He says the Atlantic is a bore."

"Good. That'll take a whole hour and a half; drive time included," Jo teased. "We could walk the Santa Monica Pier. Hang out at the Third Street Promenade."

"Sounds like a plan, I guess." Greg wasn't sure what he expected. Sight-seeing didn't sound like a bit of fun at this point. But what could he expect?

"We'll play it by ear. If you feel up to it, we'll go. If not, you can do what you'd like." Jo didn't sound upset at all. She understood his uneasiness. She just wanted to be a good hostess to her guests.

"What about Disneyland?" Aunt Sarah was enthusiastic.

"I didn't even think about that. 'The Happiest Place On Earth' is only an hour away."

Greg winced, making a face that frightened his own mother. He was holding back, a pressure building up in his chest. And then he realized it was because he was holding his breath. Greg exhaled forcefully, covering his face with his hands. He didn't want them to see the anguish he was feeling.

"What is it, Greg, what's wrong?" Aunt Sarah had never seen him try to censor himself. Evidently it wasn't a pretty sight.

Blythe found it funny. "My son gets a little melodramatic at times."

"I'm trying to be good," he confessed. But the inner turmoil he felt was like David Banner morphing into the Incredible Hulk.

"For goodness sakes, just say what's on your mind," Aunt Sarah begged.

In his most emotionless voice, yet with an apologetic look, he broke down. "I don't do happy." He put his head down where his plate had been, embarrassed and feeling like a little boy who had done wrong.

Joanne tried to stifle her laughter, but it slipped by her hand covered, pressed lips and out her nose in the form of a snort. She gave up all pretense of being lady-like after that. Her laughter was uncontrollable. It escalated in pitch as she slammed her hand down on the counter for emphasis.

It spread throughout the dining area like a contagion. Blythe and Sarah were giggling with a little more decorum than Jo. Greg couldn't figure out why they thought it was the most hysterical thing in the world.

Joanne's laughter grew exponentially, causing her to bend over and gasp for air between shrieks of hilarity. House wanted to feel slighted, but it was hard when he was smiling. By the time Jo was on the floor rolling around, holding her stomach and crying, Greg had begun to laugh. It became less about why she was laughing and more about the duration of her laughter that had them all going.