Twenty-one: Isabella has a Meeting with Dr Foreman

The next afternoon Isabella went over to her husband's home. She brought lunch, a few videos for them to watch together and a box of microwave popcorn. She knocked on his door, musing that it was just a few weeks ago, six and a half weeks ago to be exact, that she had stood in this very spot, scared and miserable, needing but dreading and not wanting to tell a stranger that they were married. She hadn't seen him since Wilson dropped her off at the motel yesterday and she was surprised that she missed him. How could she have been afraid of him? He was just a big, loud, noisy, sweet, arrogant, funny, opinionated, kind, smart, thoughtful, annoying, sensitive, goofy and abrasive marshmallow.

He didn't answer the door and she didn't want to wake him up if he was sleeping.

House sat slumped down into his brown, comfortable couch indecisive about what he should do about Isabella. No, that wasn't true; he knew what he should do. He should let her go out of his life, that's what he should do if he was thinking of her welfare before his own. He heard another soft knock. House signed; he wanted and needed to see her, talk to her, and listen to her. He longed to hear her call him, "Gregory House". Oh god he had it bad. He answered the door. She was beautiful, so beautiful it took his breath away.

"Hi, Gregory House. How are you feeling? Have you been resting?" Isabella said giving him a once over to gage his health level as she walked into the kitchen with the bag of goodies.

House immediately felt more alive and excited. "I'm fine. What did you bring me?" He said, letting his little boy out to play and grabbing at the grocery bag. He didn't want to send her away. She made him happy. He wanted her to stay. He felt so…..something.

She chuckled. "Is that all you want me for, to bring you things?" She teased.

"Yep. What did you bring the poor, crippled, housebound invalid?"He teased back. How could this be wrong? He felt that they were the same age. He didn't feel old, he felt like he always had, and being with a pretty girl made him happy. Being with this pretty girl made him happy.

"Hold your horses, Gregory House. Go wash up for lunch."Isabella ordered.

House was happy to oblige. When he came back from washing his hands in the bathroom sink he watched Isabella move around in his kitchen; opening cupboards to find plates, opening drawers to find flatware, arraigning their lunch on plates. He liked her working in his kitchen. It felt right, somehow. He smiled to himself. She walked their lunches over to the living room and sat them down on the coffee table and then went back to the kitchen for the bag that contained the rest of the goodies. She sat on the couch to the left of Gregory House so she didn't accidentally hurt his bad leg. She smelled nice, House noticed. He grabbed at the bag again and this time Isabella let him.

"The popcorn is for later; after lunch" she said between bites, "we can watch the movies now, if you want to."

House picked out one of the movies and popped it into the DVD player. He didn't even mind that it wasn't porn. He waited to start it because he wanted to know how things went when Isabella talked to Foreman. He sat back down on the couch right next to Isabella. This was the closest they had been to each other, well that they remembered anyway, and he liked the closeness.

"Did you see Foreman this morning?" she shook her head yes because her mouth was full of food.

After swallowing she told him all about the meeting. Foreman had given her a lot of nice complements, she said shyly with her head down. He told her that every doctor she had ever worked for had only good things to say about her and they would have been happy to have her on their team. Unfortunately, as she had feared, all the resident positions were filled and, although he wanted to keep her in the hospital and have her do her residency here, he didn't have the funds to add another slot. If anything came up, if someone dropped out, he would highly recommend her for that position.

He also mentioned that he always needed doctors to work in the clinic, so that was a possibility. She didn't want to. She was the top of her class and the clinic was a job someone at the bottom of the class would have to take. It wasn't even a residency. It was working as a doctor and that would feel better than sitting at home and she would learn some things, but the down side was that it would be more difficult to convince someone to hire her for a good residency after working at a job like that for a year. She didn't turn him down, but she didn't think that would be a good career move. She left her application and resume with him and left, disappointed about the lack of a job, but feeling proud about all the nice things he had said about her.

After the meeting she went up to the pediatric oncology floor to volunteer for a few hours, she told Gregory House. The children got hyped up about their performances at the conference all over again as soon as they saw Isabella walk in. The older kids were in class, so no one needed help with their homework. She read to the little ones, tickled them, they sang some songs together, and she helped two little ones who were fighting to find a better way to deal with frustration. She did all the usual things. It was a nice morning. House loved how animated and enthusiastic she was when talking about the children. He didn't interrupt while she was talking but he kept up his end of the conversation by asking appropriate question. Isabella was relieved that her husband agreed that taking the job in the clinic wasn't' a good idea for her.

I've been thinking," she began, a little unsure of herself, "maybe I should just take this year off and then apply next year when I can get my applications in on time."

House thought for a minute, "So do you want to take an entire year off or are you just afraid you won't find a job?"

"Well…I don't think I'm going to find a job." She confessed."Also, I was going to take a few years off before residency anyway, back when I thought I was going to act on Broadway again, so taking one year off wouldn't be out of the question." She shrugged her shoulders.

"You only talked to one person; you only just now wrote your resume. You haven't even sent out any applications, yet. Don't you think it's a little early to just give up?"

"I guess." She said, looking like a little kid, again. She took a sip of her water to give herself a little time. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she started eating again. House did the same.

"Someone always drops out, you're smart and have a good background; you'll find something." He consoled. He was only partially lying; once in a while a first year would drop out for whatever reason, but there were no guarantees. Isabella very well could have to wait another year, but he was also right; it was too early to give up without trying. He wanted to fix this for her. He would make some phone calls.

"Hay, if you really want to take a year off, I could help with expenses." House generously offered.

Isabella just looked at his face, surprised and stalled. "Thank you. That is a very generous offer." She took another bite of food, chewed and swallowed. "I really can take care of myself." Isabella said softly.

Awww crap! House thought. He had insulted her. "I didn't mean…"

"I know. It's OK." She said and picked up the remote and started the movie. What was she hiding? House wondered. Her body language had changed and she avoided looking at him. House's radar went into overdrive.

"If you want to; or need to take a year off, well….that's going to take some money. You need to cover housing, food, baby things, and all the other things that take money to live. How could you cover all that without some help?" he asked carefully.

"I know!" she said tensely, "I'll be fine." She said staring at the television screen, not looking at her husband, no longer eating.

Interesting, thought House. He couldn't resist the puzzle; couldn't resist digging. He teased her trying to get some answers. "Do you have a lot of money socked away someplace…or maybe you robbed a bank… won the lottery… are independently wealthy?" He tipped his head to one side while looking at her. One of those hit the mark, but which one?

"You robbed a bank!" He joked. He didn't think so, but he also didn't know her well.

Isabella ignored him without reaction. So, nope; she didn't rob a bank.

"Did you win the lottery?" He poked.

Still staring at the TV, pulling her legs close into her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees, "Yes." She answered in a teeny, tiny, little voice

"What? What? You did? Really? You won the lottery?" Isabella slightly nodded her head and slowly swiveled her head so she was looking at House instead of the TV. She looked sad.

"WOW!" House said. He didn't understand why Isabella was acting the way she was acting.

Isabella just sat there looking at him. She looked sad and resentful. "Does it matter?"

"You're not excited. Why aren't you excited? You were hiding it. Why did you hide it? Winning the lottery isn't something to be ashamed of. Winning the lottery, it's a good thing. Isn't it?" House asked. He was puzzled and he didn't understand. He felt cheated, not because he wanted Isabella's money, but because his wife had hidden this from him. He was confused at her behavior.

She was silent for a while, then, "Gregory…" and stopped and sighed deeply. "It's a long story and I am not going to talk about it."

Why was she so upset? Why was she so traumatized about winning the lottery? Did it have something to do with the foster parents who were in prison? Why would she be upset about winning the lottery?

"Enjoy the movies. I'll pick them up and take them back tomorrow. I should get work on my applications." she said before leaving. She didn't even say good bye. She just left. House didn't understand.

Isabella opened the door and Wilson was standing there with his hand out ready to knock. Isabella rushed out past him without saying anything. That was unusual, Isabella usually had manners. Well at least she was gone so he could have fun with House.

Wilson plopped down on the couch," Fight with the wife?" Wilson quipped, not knowing he had hit the nail right on the head."

"Naw. Grab some beers and let's watch some porn." House said distractedly.

Wilson and House did that thing that they do; synchronized placing their feet on the coffee table and crossing the second leg over the first.

House made all the right remarks and did all the right things, but Wilson knew something was wrong. House seemed despondent, distant. After last night Wilson decided to wait until House said something; if he ever did. Maybe he was still upset about last night and the things Wilson had said to him. They critiqued the porn movie and its stars. House was there in body, but not in spirit. His mind was occupied elsewhere.

After the movie Wilson asked if House wanted him to stay overnight again. House made some sarcastic remarks and the two men decided that House was doing fine and was OK to be alone tonight. House was despondent, distant and recovering from a heart attack, but he said he was OK to be alone and Wilson agreed.

"Call me if you need anything, House."

"OK Wilson, night Wilson."

"Night House."

Pretend page break, the real page break didn't work.

Well the lottery scene was odd! What was that all about? I may decide to write a sequel and I have peppered a few things into this story just in case I do write a volume two. There will be several things that will not be resolved in this story. Isn't that like real life? Everything doesn't get wrapped up in a tidy ending.

I hope you enjoyed this (mostly) fun chapter.