Chapter 21
HOUSE
I woke up earlier than usual the next morning. Elle and I had gone to bed at the ungodly early hour of 9:00. We had playful, passionate sex for the next hour and she fell asleep in my arms around 10:30. I got up briefly, just to find my Vicodin and slap on the lidocaine patches, and then went right back to bed. I gathered her into my arms again and reveled in the warmth of my little sex kitten. I had fucked her into a coma again and she had returned the favor. I fell asleep shortly after I returned to bed.
Now it was only 8AM and I was wide-awake. I eased myself out of bed and hobbled into the bathroom. After relieving myself and pulling off the patches, I went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. The carafe was waiting for me as usual and I poured a cup and took it into the living room. Elle's article was still on the coffee table, so I picked it up to read while drinking my coffee.
It was a good article, in depth and well written. There are over 20 different types of non-Hodgkin's lymphomas and each one has its own specific treatment. Elle did a great job of summarizing the symptoms and treatment of the 15 or so more common ones. I was impressed and made a mental note to tell her later.
I showered, dressed and headed into work, arriving around 10AM. The ducklings were all in the conference room. After dropping my backpack in my office, I headed in there.
Addressing Cameron, I said: "I assume you have the bone marrow biopsy results."
She tossed the papers at me: "Yes, it's cancer, some type of lymphoma. We can give the file to Wilson as soon as he gets back from his meeting."
I scanned the file as I asked: "What type of lymphoma?"
"I don't know. One of the non-Hodgkin's type. She needs a biopsy of the tumor to be certain."
I looked at her; Cameron's appearance was unusually disheveled. I guess spending the night waiting for lab results will do that to a person. She seemed quite tired and exasperated.
Something about this case was bothering me. I could easily just turn it over to Wilson, but I wanted an exact diagnosis. Just knowing it was one of the many non-Hodgkin's lymphomas wasn't enough for me this time.
"Repeat the CBC and metabolic panel. Do an Epstein-Barr and a HIV test. And let's get a needle aspiration biopsy of that tumor. I want to see that bad boy. Cameron, are you fit to stay for the rest of the day? Cuz you look like crap."
She shot me death rays out of her eyes as she sneered: "I'm fine."
"Well, you don't look fine. Go shower and change clothes at least. The boys can start the tests and you can catch up. Now, go."
The ducklings scurried off to do my bidding. I headed out to the balcony, carefully climbed over the dividing wall and walked into Wilson's office. I scanned his shelves until I found the textbook that I was looking for and took it back to my office. Each type of lymphoma has a particular appearance when viewed under the microscope. I wanted this particular text with its great color photos for comparison when we had the results of the biopsy.
It would take them a couple of hours to get all of the tests performed. Wilson was in a meeting so I couldn't go annoy him. I wanted to avoid Cuddy for a while after yesterday's events. I'd like to see Elle and grab a morning kiss and grope, but I couldn't just show up on the 6th floor without raising questions. I sighed and took out my Gameboy.
Right before 1PM, Wilson poked his head in the door. "Lunch? And don't forget you're buying."
I smirked: "How could I forget?" I held up my wallet as proof that I would be able to pay and we headed down to the cafeteria. I got my usual Reuben and Wilson got a burger and fries. I paid and we sat down at a table in the back.
I asked: "You're in a pretty good mood so I'm assuming that you didn't tell her."
He looked confused: "Tell who, what?"
"Tell Julie what happened yesterday."
He closed his eyes and grimaced: "No. I didn't tell her."
"Smart move."
We ate in silence for a few minutes, then he asked: "Did you tell Elle what happened?"
I nodded.
"What did she say?"
I smirked: "You really want to know?"
"Yeah, I want to know."
I chuckled: "She said my dick is bigger than yours. Then she gave me a lap dance."
I stole a couple of his fries while watching his reaction. He looked surprised at first, and then he chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you're getting some. How many lap dances did you get last night?"
I stole 3 more fries, shoved them in between my fingers and held them up.
He sputtered: "Three? At your age?"
"Hey. That's not nice. You hurt my feelings" I put on a pouty face. "And it's true. We had 3 rounds last night, her bed, dining room chair, and my bed."
He went all slack-jawed. "Really?"
I munched the fries and nodded. "Yep."
"Damn, you're really getting some. You are a lucky guy. She IS smokin' hot."
I growled: "MINE. Back off."
He held up his hands in defeat: "Just complementing you on your taste in women. She's good-looking, smart and apparently very hot in the sack."
"Yes, she is. All of the above and more. Hey, she is having an article published."
"No shit! That's great. Which journal?"
"JAPhA."
"Which is?"
"Journal of the American Pharmacists Association. It would be kinda like getting published in JAMA for us."
He looked impressed: "Cool. That's great. Be sure Cuddy knows. She'll give Elle some recognition for it. You know how much she likes us to publish."
"Yeah, don't remind me."
We ate in silence for a few minutes and then Wilson asked: "Poker game still on?"
I nodded: "Of course."
He chuckled: "Just wondering. Thought you might be too busy getting laid to play poker."
"There's always after the game. A woman loves a big winner. Bring your wallet. And bring the beer."
After lunch, I headed back to my office. The ducklings weren't around, so I grabbed the oncology text and headed up to the lab.
Chase summarized the findings as soon as I walked into the room.
"Her RBC's, WBC's and platelets have fallen a bit. Her BUN and creatinine are better. I think the hydration helped. Her HIV test was negative and the EBV was positive."
Pleased at his concise report, I nodded: "And the biopsy?"
Foreman said: "Right here under the microscope. It's distinctive looking. I can't place the exact type, though. We should page Wilson for a consult."
I stepped over to the microscope: "Let me see."
Foreman stepped aside so I could get to the scope. I ran through all of her symptoms in my head as I stared at the slide.
Then Foreman said: "House, change the setting to low power. It looks different on low than it does on high."
I changed the setting and he was right. It did look different.
Foreman said: "It looks like little stars on top of the lymphoid cells, doesn't it?"
Stars. Starry sky. Where did I see that? Then I remembered: Elle's article. She had summarized the symptoms and mentioned a unique starry sky pattern seen under microscopy for one of them. I flipped to the index of the text and checked for that term. Sure enough, there it was: 'starry sky', page 498. I flipped over to that page and read quickly. Then I compared the photo in the text to what was under the microscope. It fit.
I lay the text down on the table, open to the pertinent page. Stepping back, I said: "Take a look."
Foreman glanced at the picture and then in the scope again. "Yeah, that looks like it."
Then Chase took a look and agreed with both of us.
This wasn't good for the patient. If it is what I think it is, this was a very aggressive type of cancer. We needed to do one more test to confirm it and then I'd call in Oncology's Boy Wonder for the treatment.
"Run a FISH for the C-myc and IgH genes. Look for translocation between them. Let me know if the break point in myc is between exons 1 and 2 and the break point in IgH is in the switch region."
Chase asked: "And what will that mean?"
I started out the door and turned back to answer him: "Bad news for our patient."
I headed back down to my office. I put on the Stones and sat down at my desk. I had stuffed Elle's article in my backpack before leaving home and I pulled it out now. I turned to the section on Burkitt's lymphoma and read it again. Our patient matched most of the symptoms. It was unusual to see it in an adult female who was not HIV-positive. There were probably only 300 cases a year in this country in non-HIV patients. Poor woman hit the wrong jackpot. It was a very fast-moving cancer and required aggressive chemotherapy. Per Elle's article, the best shot was a regimen referred to as CODOX-M/IVAC. I shuddered; it sounded quite intense.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. Elle's article had actually helped me diagnose my patient. I really wanted to see her, let her know that I read the article and what I thought of it. I wanted to tell her that it had helped me with my patient. I also wanted to kiss her.
Just then 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' came on the stereo. I had to smile at the irony. I leaned back and closed my eyes while waiting for the ducklings to finish running the test.
It was 4:30 before they barged into my office. Foreman reported that the breakpoints were exactly where I said they would be.
I said: "That confirms it. She has Burkitt's lymphoma. I'll page Wilson; the case is his now. Nothing more we can do. You guys can go home now."
They eagerly grabbed their stuff and left while I paged Wilson. He wandered into my office a few minutes later.
"You rang?"
"Gotta patient for you. Burkitt's."
"Burkitt's, really? HIV positive?"
"Nope." I handed him the file and watched him read it.
"Geez, you did the gene studies and everything. Usually you figure out that it's cancer and let me pin down the exact diagnosis. What's up with that?"
I shrugged: "I wanted to go the whole hog today. It was a decent puzzle, pretty rare cancer. So are you going to use CODOX-M/IVAC?"
His eyes popped. "You know about that? That's a fairly new chemo regimen. I didn't think you kept up with those."
I picked up Elle's article and waved it at him: "I had a bit of help."
He snatched it from my hand and started skimming it. After a few minutes, he said: "This is really good. Thorough, yet concise. So after you diagnosed her, you found out about the regimen in her article?"
"Actually it was the 'starry sky' description that clicked it for me. After I confirmed the diagnosis with the gene study, I read it again for the treatment."
He smirked: "So she helped you diagnose another one? Does she even know this yet?"
I smiled: "Not yet. I'll tell her later."
He smirked: "You've got a smart sexy one here. Don't blow it."
I shot him a withering look. Who was he to say not to blow it when his third marriage was quickly going down the toilet?
Wilson rose from his seat: "I'm going to review the file and tell the patient the bad news. Write the orders to start the chemo tomorrow and then I'll come over to your place."
I merely nodded and Wilson walked out of my office.
I looked at my watch; it was almost 5PM. Elle would have left work already to head over to see her therapist. I decided to head home. Maybe I would get a chance to see her before the guys arrived. I gathered all of my stuff, including her article, stuffed it in my backpack, and headed out.
ELLEWork wasn't too bad today, yet I was glad when it was over. I was anxious about seeing Gail and wanted to get it over with. I was really wondering what she would say about the fact that I was now having sex with Greg.
Her reaction was pretty much as I imagined it to be. Gail thought I was moving too fast with House and urged me to take it slow. I argued: "What do you mean, take it slow, I'm already sleeping with him!" I wasn't going to move in or marry him. I wanted things just the way they were right now.
Dinner and sex. Someone to cook for and have dinner with. Someone to hold me while I sleep. Someone to cling to when I'm scared. Someone to comfort me when I have a nightmare. Someone to fuck me into a coma. He was giving me everything I needed right now. I wasn't stupid enough to delude myself into thinking it was something more. I didn't believe for a minute that he would want to take this 'thing' any further. I was well acquainted with his reputation. And I knew I was too damaged for him to love. I cared for him but I was afraid of falling in love with him. Deep down, I wanted it to be more, but I kept that feeling tucked away in a dark little corner. Every now and then I would remember what Wilson had told me; House may not be able to verbally express himself, but his actions would speak for his feelings. His actions almost seemed like a man in love, but I was afraid to hope. Therefore, I kept that feeling buried away.
It was upsetting that the best thing I had going right now was met with Gail's disapproval. I told her how gentle he was with me, and how considerate he was in bed. I told her what happened when he wanted to take me from behind and I freaked. His reaction to that seemed to raise him up a notch in her eyes. And she was glad that I was able to enjoy sex and have orgasms again so soon after being raped. Then we talked about my nightmares for a while and before I knew it, my hour was up.
I had cried throughout most of our session, so I knew I looked like hell when I left her office. I took a glance at my face when I got in the car. Sure enough, my eyes were red and swollen. I hoped that I didn't run into House or any of his friends when I got home. I didn't want anyone to see me like this.
I dodged the bullet. I managed to get into my apartment without running into anyone. I poured myself a finger of scotch and slugged it down. The burn felt good going down my throat. I poured 2 more fingers and took it into the bedroom with me. I felt slightly depressed at the realization that there was nowhere but the floor to set the glass on. I needed to get more furniture. I changed into jeans and a tee and went back into the kitchen.
I took out the leftovers and fixed a plate, setting it in the microwave to heat up. While it was nuking, I heard a knock, but before I could get to the door, I heard the key in the lock.
Greg entered and paused just inside the door. "I wasn't sure if I should knock or just use the key."
"Just use the key."
He nodded and just looked at me for a long minute, his head tilted to the side. Finally he leaned his cane up against the door and held out both arms. I was drawn to him like a magnet. I was in his arms in mere seconds. My hands found his scruffy face and I pulled him to me. My need for him was like the need for water in the desert. I kissed him hungrily and he returned it with equal passion. We kissed deeply for several minutes until we needed to come up for air. He took my face in both of his hands and looked at me. The expression on his face was so kind and gentle that I thought I would burst into tears.
"Rough session?"
I just nodded and ducked my head. I buried my face in his chest so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. He nuzzled the top of my head, planting little kisses in my hair.
"I wanted to see you for a minute before the guys get here. I read your article and I thought it was really good."
I smiled against his chest: "REALLY? Oh, you're just saying that to be nice."
He smirked and said: "You obviously don't know me very well."
He pulled back from our embrace, looked me in the eyes and said: "Hi, I'm Greg House and I don't do things just to make others feel good."
He leaned against the door and pulled me with him. "It was a damn good article. Wilson thought so too. Your article actually helped me diagnose a patient today. She has Burkitt's and I remembered your description of the 'starry sky' microscopy as I looked at the slide. Then I impressed Wilson by knowing the latest treatment for it."
He was watching me, waiting for my response. I just blushed, not able to handle his praise very well. I finally managed to mumble: "I'm glad it helped."
He nodded solemnly. He watched me for a few more minutes. I busied myself with pulling his shirt out of his jeans so that I could run my hands up his bare back. He hummed and smiled at the contact, pulling me closer. My head was nestled nicely on his chest. I could feel his desire pressing up against me.
Noise in the hallway brought up back to the present.
Greg sighed and said: "The guys are here. I should go."
In a more serious tone, he asked: "Will it scare you if I climb into bed with you tonight while you're asleep?"
I smiled and said: "I don't think so."
He smiled and said: "OK." He ran his hands up under my shirt and I shivered with delight at his touch. I could see the surprise in his face when he encountered no bra and his hand slipped forward and gently cupped my breast.
I put my hand on his package, rubbing lightly and said: "Wake me when you come to bed. I'll make it worth your while."
He squeezed my breast and said: "My little nympho."
"That's me, your little nympho."
His lips crashed down on mine and we kissed passionately. Finally with a groan, he pulled away. Glancing down at his crotch, he shook his head: "What you do to me." Closing his eyes, he started chanting: "Wilson in a Speedo, Wilson in a Speedo."
When I started giggling, he opened his eyes and said: "That usually works for me." He glanced down and said: "Ah, yes, it is working. OK. I'm off to win everyone's money."
"Go get 'em, cowboy."
He shot me a mischievous grin, grabbed his cane and hobbled out of the door.
I felt decidedly better as I went back to the kitchen and reheated my plate.
I ate in front of the TV, delighting that I now had more channels to flip through. There was still nothing on, but at least there were more to surf. After eating and cleaning up, I fussed about the apartment. I did a bit of cleaning, watering the plants, things like that. I actually felt a bit lonely and I realized that I missed his company. I decided that I really wanted more bedroom furniture, so I checked the phone book and jotted down the locations of used furniture stores. Then I went online and looked at what Ikea had to offer. Ikea had some pieces that looked good and weren't too expensive. If I didn't turn up anything in the local used furniture stores, I would head over there.
It was 10PM and time for bed. I changed into some boxers and a light cami. I took my pill and brushed my teeth. I started feeling anxious about sleeping alone. He told me he was coming over, but that wouldn't be until later. What if he decided not to come, afraid that he would disturb me? I tried to push away my anxiety, but it was not working. I realized that it had been a week since I had slept alone. I turned on my nightlights and put on my sleep-inducing CD. I thought for a moment, and then slugged down 2 fingers of scotch, hoping that would help. Then I regretted it. I probably should have taken an Ativan instead. Oh, well. Too late now, I already had the booze in me.
I had to have faith that he would come over. He would comfort me and protect me. I pulled back the sheet and crawled in. I settled in on 'my' side, fluffing the pillows a few times. Despite the CD, the place felt eerily quiet.
I grabbed the purple dog and hugged him to my chest. He wasn't Greg, but he would have to do for now.
HOUSEI ended up winning 300 bucks. Not a bad haul for the night. And one hundred of it was Dry Cleaner Guy's money, so that made up for last week.
They left around 11:30. Wilson stayed as usual to help me clean up.
As he dumped the ashtrays, he asked: "So, Elle's not sleeping over tonight?"
I shook my head.
"She didn't want to walk in with the boys here, huh? Not after what happened two weeks ago."
"It's not that."
"What is it, then?"
"Look, you're the only one who knows about her nightmares. She's afraid of having one while the guys are here. That would really embarrass her. So she doesn't want to fall asleep here while anyone else is in the apartment."
He looked thoughtful. "Oh, I can understand that. So, sleeping alone tonight, huh?"
I smiled: "She had her new bed delivered yesterday. I told you we had to christen it right away. That was the first of our 3 rounds last night."
"Oh. Yeah. Right. So you're going over there to sleep, then?"
I wiggled my eyebrows and gave him my best 'duh' look. "What do you think?"
"I think that is just what I would be doing. I'm outta here. Good night."
"Night."
Wilson left and I started getting ready for bed. After brushing my teeth, I grabbed my Vicodin and cell phone and headed over to her place.
I quietly let myself in. The bedroom door was open and I peeked in on her. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully at the moment. I noticed that the nightlights were on and a soothing CD was playing. I wandered back to the kitchen and saw the bottle of scotch and one used glass. The last time she had a nightmare was the previous Wednesday after her therapy session. I wondered if she was afraid of a repeat performance. I poured myself a shot of scotch and washed down my bedtime Vicodin with it. I was standing there, just enjoying the burn, when I heard the first whimper.
At first, I wasn't sure it was Elle. Then I heard it again and I knew for sure. I limped into the bedroom hoping to head off a full-blown nightmare. I kicked off my sneakers, dropped my jeans and crawled into bed. She was laying on her right side facing the middle of the bed and she was clutching that stuffed dog for dear life. Her face was buried in its fur. As I reached for her, she cried out: "No."
Oh shit, she was deeper into it than I thought. I put my hand on her shoulder and she shook it off, saying: "No. Don't."
"Elle, wake up. It's Greg. Come on, baby, wake up."
Her body was curled tightly into a ball; her face was buried in the dog's fur. She whimpered: "No."
Her hair was sticking to her damp skin and I brushed it away from her face.
She trembled and whispered in French: "Please don't hurt me."
I decided to talk to her in French and see if that got through to her: "Elle, wake up. No one is going to hurt you. It's Greg. I'm right here. I've got you. You're safe. Wake up, mon cher. Arielle! Wake up Arielle."
Elle gasped and her eyes popped open. She looked terribly frightened. I cursed the fact that there was no bedside light to turn on. I knew she needed it. I was concerned that she couldn't really see me in this dim light and she might become more frightened.
"Elle, it's me. It's Greg. Don't be afraid. I'm here, baby."
She whispered timidly: "Greg?"
I wrapped my arms around her and she stiffened. I tried to reassure her: "It's me, sweetheart. Don't be scared."
I felt her arm move from my embrace. Then I felt her hand on my cheek and her body immediately relaxed.
She sighed: "Oh, cowboy. You came to my rescue." She snuggled her head into my chest.
I pulled her closer: "I got you. You're safe and your little dog too."
She giggled at that. "You must think I'm really silly, sleeping with a stuffed dog."
"Actually you looked kinda cute with it."
"Yeah, right. Grown woman hugging stuffed dog, very cute."
I nuzzled my scruff against her cheek. "It's OK."
I held her for a few minutes and felt her body grow progressively more relaxed. I thought she had fallen back asleep when she whispered: "Take off your shirt. I want to feel your skin next to mine."
I pulled off my shirt and watched her pull off her cami. She set the dog on the floor and then cuddled up into my chest.
She sighed at the contact: "Ah, this is so much better, don't you think so?"
"Yes."
We lay like this for a while, and then I felt her lips planting little kisses on my chest. Her hand caressed my belly and then moved lower, dipping into my boxers.
I smiled: "Whatcha doing there?"
"Playing. Told you I'd make it worth your while if you came over here to sleep."
I smiled as I felt my body respond to her touch. As I slid my hand down the back of her boxers, my mouth hovering just inches from hers, I whispered: "Yes, you did."
There was an incessant buzzing noise that just wouldn't stop. It sounded like the hum of a million mosquitoes. For a minute, I thought I was back on this horrible camping trip with my dad when I was age 13. Then I slowly opened my eyes and was relieved to see that I was in Elle's bed. She was still asleep, cuddled tightly against my chest and that damn buzzing was her alarm clock. For a change, it had woken me up and she slept through it.
I couldn't figure out where the clock was to shut it off. It must be on the floor on her side of the bed. This felt so nice that I hated to wake her, but I knew she needed to get up for work and, more importantly, make that buzzing stop.
I started kissing her until she woke up enough to kiss me back.
She hummed: "Ummmm, this is nice. Don't stop."
Her hands started making their way down my happy trail to my morning wood.
"As nice as this is, I am trying to wake you up for work."
She groaned: "No. I don't wanna go to work. I wanna stay here with you."
"Um, I'd like that too. You wanna call in sick? We could stay in bed all day."
"Oh, don't tempt me. I would love to. But I'm still on probation, so I can't call in sick. Plus I have pain patients to see today. I better get up."
She rolled away from me long enough to finally shut up that damn alarm. Then she rolled right back and gave me a big kiss.
Stroking my cheek, she said: "Thanks for the nice wake-up call. Go back to sleep. You still have lots of time before you need to go in."
She stroked my hair, kissed me again, and rolled out of bed. I watched her pad naked out of the room and sighed. My morning wood throbbed at the loss of her warmth. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
I must have dozed off because I was startled by the shifting of the bed. Elle had sat down on the edge to put her shoes on.
I said: "Hey."
She gave me a beautiful smile: "Hey. I left the coffee here today, OK? I mean, since you are already over here."
I nodded: "No problem. I'll see you tonight."
"I have my yoga class tonight. I'll see you afterwards, OK?"
I nodded: "Thai take-out tonight?"
"That would be great."
I puckered my lips: "Kiss before you go."
She leaned across the bed and gave me a sweet kiss. As she pulled away, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back for another one.
"Ummm, I don't know if that will hold me until after yoga tonight."
She smirked: "Well, you could come see me in my office this afternoon. I have a gap of time between 2:30 and 3:00."
I waggled my eyebrows at her: "Hmmm, I just might."
She smiled and gave me another kiss: "I really have to go. See you later, cowboy."
"Yes, you will."
I plopped back down on the pillow and closed my eyes. I heard the front door close and the apartment fell silent. I rolled over on my side to try to fall back asleep. After a few minutes, I realized that I was wide-awake. I sighed; I may as well get up. Then it dawned on me. I was alone in her apartment. What a perfect time to snoop.
I sat up slowly, rubbing the ache in my thigh. I reached for my Vicodin and swallowed two of them. After slipping on my boxers, I slowly got up and hobbled out to the kitchen for some of her coffee. I poured myself a mug and pondered where to start. She really didn't have a whole lot of stuff.
The bookcase seemed like a good place to start. She had those old books of her mom's. Maybe she had put old letters or something in them. I started pulling them off the shelf one by one, but nothing fell out. There was a copy of the French version of Le Petit Prince that looked very old and dog-eared.
I flipped it open but nothing fell out. I saw some writing on the first page and stopped to read. It was also in French.
To my darling daughter
On her 10th birthday,
All my love,
Maman
Her parents had died when she was 10, so this was the last birthday present she had received from her mother. She had somehow managed to hang onto this book through all of her moves in foster care. I suddenly realized that there probably wasn't much here to snoop through, because she truly did not have very much. Most of the books on her shelves were textbooks from college, novels of recent vintage, and her Tintin and Asterix comics. I could not find a high school yearbook.
I glanced around the living room. There was nothing else to dig through. The entertainment stand contained assorted CD's and DVD's, but no personal effects. Her laptop was on the dining room table, but I decided to save that for last. The closet by the front door contained coats and other winter clothing. The top shelf contained a selection of purses. I took each one down and looked through them. Aside from a few forgotten movie stubs, there was nothing of interest in them.
I moved onto the bedroom feeling somewhat defeated. There was no other furniture than the bed. There were no dresser drawers to paw through. I pulled open the closet and glanced around. There were clothes hanging on the rod and the rest were folded neatly in cardboard boxes. I stuck my arm down inside a few of the boxes to see if I could feel anything other than clothes, but I found nothing. Then I glanced up at the shelf and I finally smiled. Jackpot. There were 3 photo albums up there, just waiting for me.
I took them down and sat on the bed to look through them. I opened the oldest looking one first. Tucked inside the front was a manila envelope. I poured out the contents onto the bed. Inside were Elle's birth certificate, her parents' death certificates and her passport. I grinned, knowing what the 'S' stood for now. It was right there on her birth certificate: Arielle Sarah Kaplan. Born January 19, 1971, Gainesville, FL weighing 7 pounds 2 ounces, 20 inches long. Her parents were Benjamin Kaplan and Racquel Dupuis Kaplan. Her father had been born in New York City and his occupation was listed as history teacher. Her mother had been born in France, no city listed, and her occupation was listed as music teacher. So Elle got her musical talent from her mother. Then I noticed something else that struck me as odd. There was a section titled 'previous deliveries to mother'. It asked 'how many other children are living' and it was answered 'zero'. It also asked 'how many fetal deaths (fetuses born dead at any time after conception'. The answer for that one was 'two'. Elle's mom had had 2 miscarriages before Elle was born. She must have been a much-wanted child after 2 miscarriages. I wondered if there had been any more miscarriages after Elle.
Her parents' death certificates yielded little new information. They had died as a result of a motor vehicle accident on July 8, 1981. Tomorrow was the 25th anniversary of their deaths. I wondered how Elle was going to take that. When she mentioned it previously, she was quite upset. I thought it might be a good idea to find a distraction for tomorrow night.
Her passport had been used only twice. She went to Mexico 2 years ago and to France 5 years ago. I wondered where she had gone and why.
It was time to check out the photo albums. I glanced at my watch; it was only 9AM. I still had some time before I needed to head into work. I stuffed all of the documents back into the envelope and flipped the pages on the oldest photo album.
There were several pictures of baby Elle being held by different people. I tried to guess which woman was her mother and which was her aunt. They looked very much alike. There were also shots with her father and her uncle, although I wasn't sure who was who. I would have to figure that out later. Right now I only had time to flip through the pages. I watch Elle grow up in these photos. There were a lot of pictures at the beach. They did seem to spend a lot of time there. And there were the obligatory birthday and school photos. I looked carefully at the photos at her 10th birthday party. She was standing with 2 adults and I assumed they were her parents. The woman looked very tired and her smile seemed forced. I flipped back a page and saw the photo I quickly breezed through before. Elle was hugging the pregnant belly of the same woman. They were standing in front of a menorah, lighting candles, so it must have been during Hanukkah the month before Elle's birthday. I remembered Elle saying how important it was for her to light the candles. I flipped back and forth between the pages. If that was her mother, she was probably 6 months pregnant in December and not pregnant in January. But Elle never mentioned having a sibling. Had her mother lost this one too?
There were only a few photos after Elle's birthday party. Her father or uncle had a birthday and there were a few shots of that. Then a couple more beach photos and that was it. There was nothing else in that album.
I went on to the next one. There was Elle in cap and gown. At first, I assumed it was her high school graduation. Then I realized that the boy standing next to her was a younger Tony. This was their college graduation.
There was a photo of his entire family standing next to them and then several shots of various relatives standing next to them. All of the photos had Tony's family in them. I wondered how she felt having no one there for her.
It was getting late and I needed to hurry. I flipped through the rest of that album and the last one. There were photos of Elle with friends, with the band, with her dog, and with, I assume, other boyfriends. I would have to examine those photos more closely later. I wanted to get a good look at David. I shut the albums and stowed them back on the closet shelf exactly where they had been.
As I limped back to my apartment and got in the shower, it occurred to me that Elle had no photos after age 10 until college. There was no high school yearbook. It is as if that entire part of her life was missing. There was no photographic evidence to document what she had gone through after her parents' death. I wondered if that was deliberate on her part, or just that no one cared enough to take a foster kid's picture.
ElleI started seeing my pain patients at 1PM. I was now scheduling the return patients every half hour and reserving an hour's time-slot for the new patients. Thus I had a gap between 2:30 and 3:00. I smiled as I remembered telling Greg about my available slot this morning. I wondered if he would really show up.
As Mr. Rentz left my office at 2:25, I shut the door for a breather, but it reopened again so quickly that I was startled. Greg hurried in and shut the door quickly behind him, flipping the lock.
That really sexy smile was plastered on his face, the one that made me weak in the knees.
In a low voice, he said: "I heard you had an opening at 2:30."
He took a step closer to me.
I swallowed hard. He was turning me on and he hadn't even touched me yet. I tried to fake professionalism by saying: "Why, yes I do. Would you care to sit down and talk about your problem?"
He took another step closer and took my hand in his. "Oh, I don't want to talk about my problem."
He placed my hand over his bulging package and said: "I think you should examine it. I think it needs immediate attention.
I nodded: "It could be serious. It's very swollen. I should take a look at it."
He bent down and brushed my hair back from my face. His breath tickled as he whispered in my ear: "Hurry, doctor. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out."
He pulled me to him and ground his hips against me. His need was urgent and mine was growing quickly. Our lips met and we kissed passionately. My hands got busy with his belt buckle and I quickly undid the belt and unzipped his jeans. As I slipped my hand inside his boxers, he groaned into my mouth.
I pulled away just long enough to say: "We have to be quiet. This office isn't soundproof."
He mumbled: "OK."
His lips were immediately glued to mine again and I felt his hands fumbling with my zipper. I toed my shoes off and he pushed my pants to the floor. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. He pulled my top off over my head. I was standing in my office in a sheer pink bra and matching panties. I was so turned on that my panties were soaked.
He pushed me away to arms-length and looked me up and down.
"Nice," he hissed through his teeth.
I backed him up to the chair and then I pushed his jeans and boxers down to the floor. Then I pushed him on the chest and made him sit down.
"We don't have a lot of time. My next patient will be here at 3."
He grinned: "Horny, my little nympho?"
I took his hand and slipped it inside my panties. I saw the look of delighted surprise as he felt how wet I was.
"Oh yeah, you are. Get these off and climb aboard."
I pushed my panties to the floor and kicked them away. He was fully erect. I straddled his lap and then I took him in my hand and guided him to my entrance. I eased slowly down until he was completely inside of me.
He hissed softly: "You are so amazing."
"And you are so goddamned sexy."
I surprised myself by saying that, but he just chuckled and kissed me again. His hands were on my hips urging me on. He suckled at my breast through the flimsy material of my bra, the only article of clothing I had neglected to remove.
I couldn't think; I could only feel. His hands, his mouth, his cock. It felt so good. Our need was urgent and I could tell he was close. His hips were thrusting up against mine. His hand slipped between our bodies and he pressed his thumb against my clit. I exploded almost as soon as he touched me. I pressed my face into his neck to smother my cries as I continued to ride him. His orgasm hit right after mine. He smashed his face into my shoulder to stifle his moans. I thrust against him a couple more times to ride out his orgasm until he stilled my hips with his hands.
He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly, his head pressed between my breasts. I rested my chin on top of his head and gently stroked his hair.
It took a few minutes for our breathing to return to normal.
Greg broke the silence first. "I feel much better Doctor. I think you cured me."
"Hmmmm. I better check on you later. You could have a relapse."
"That's true. I might. Do you make house calls?"
"For special patients, I do."
"Am I one of your special patients?"
I giggled: "You are my only special patient."
He hugged me tightly and nibbled on my hickey. "Mine," he growled possessively.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Tell me."
"Je suis a vous."
He hummed his delight and kissed me again, his tongue tangling with mine.
Reluctantly I climbed off of his lap. I had 5 minutes to get dressed and ready for my patient. I urged Greg on and we hurriedly dressed.
"You look like the cat that ate the canary. You walk outside with that look on your face and everyone will know what we have been doing in here."
He immediately frowned in an exaggerated manner and said: "Does this look more like my usual face?"
"Your usual work face. Not your usual after sex face."
I giggled. "Will that hold you over until I get back from yoga?"
He smirked: "Perhaps. But you better hurry home or I'll start without you."
I laughed and he pulled me to him for one last kiss. Then he pulled away and smoothed down my hair with his hands.
"You look fine. A little flushed, perhaps, like you just got fucked good."
I smiled at him: "That's cuz I just did."
He cupped my face in both of his hands and gave me a small gentle kiss on the lips. Then he grabbed his cane and turned towards the door.
As he walked out of my office, he said: "See you tonight."
He was gone before I could reply, so I said it to the empty office: "Oh, yes you will."