Chapter 26
By the time they stopped talking, it was late and both had drunk a great deal. House stood up to leave and fell back down again.
"You can't drive home." Marianne told him.
"I'm okay."
"I'm not letting you out of here like that. You can stay here."
He looked at her.
She made an impatient gesture. "You can go upstairs and sleep in Michael's room or you can sleep on the sofa."
House eyed the stairs, knowing he'd never make it up them. "Sofa's good." He told her. "Can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure. You need to go through my bedroom." She pointed the way.
While she got a pillow and blanket for him he went to use the bathroom. When he came back into the living room, she was in the kitchen getting some water. She walked through and said good night as she headed to her bedroom, switching out the light as she went.
He lay on her sofa in the dark, thinking about how amazing this was and how terrific she looked. He knew they were the same age, but she looked years younger. He'd have to get to know her again.
Marianne couldn't sleep. She never imagined that she would have Greg House in her home, sleeping on her sofa just a few feet away. She felt the same pull towards him that she had thirty years ago. But she knew that they were both different people. She knew she had to proceed very slowly.
As she continued to toss and turn, she decided to get something to help her sleep. She walked into the living room and heard him snoring. She smiled. They had only spent the entire night together once, so she didn't really know that he snored. She walked over to the chair and sat opposite where he slept. There was a faint light from the street lamp outside which allowed her to see his face, albeit in shadow. She stared at him.
He'd been cute in high school, with a sort of boyish charm, but now he was all man and totally gorgeous. She still wondered about the leg. They hadn't discussed that, most of their talk had been about Michael and their past.
She leaned back and closed her eyes. From all indications, he was not the nice, sweet boy she remembered. He had grown hard and mean. Why? Had his leg caused it? Had she?
"Do you usually stalk your guests while they sleep or am I special?
She was startled out of her reverie by his voice. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was awake and staring at her.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep. And I just…I don't know what I'm doing."
He watched her hesitation. "What do you want to talk about?"
She looked away for a second, then back. "What happened to your leg?"
He grimaced. "Not a good bedtime story."
"Please tell me."
He hesitated. It wasn't something he liked to talk about, but this was Marianne. And it was very late. Things seem different in the middle of the night. He sat up and swung his legs slowly onto the floor. He told her about the infarction and the muscle death.
"They wanted to amputate, but I wouldn't let them. I thought the muscle would regenerate in time."
"But it didn't?"
"It didn't get the chance. While I was in a coma – to handle the pain—my medical proxy authorized them to remove the dead tissue. So instead of it regenerating and me being myself, I have this limp and constant pain."
"Oh, Greg, that's terrible! Who was your medical proxy?"
"My girlfriend."
"Oh." She stopped, thinking. "Are you still with her?"
"No. We broke up not long after."
"Well, I guess it was hard to trust her after that."
"Yeah, I seem to have a problem with women betraying my trust."
"Greg, I…"
'Never mind. It's too late and it doesn't matter anyway. I just wish I'd known about Michael."
"So do I. At the time, it was the best decision I thought I could make. But many times later, I regretted it. At least you know him now."
"Yeah, and he hates me."
"That's not true. He respects you."
"He respects me as a doctor, he hates me as a man. I never cared whether people liked me before. Weird how I want my son to."
Marianne's eyes started to fill with tears. She had messed this up so bad and now Michael would have to find out that his new boss was his father. She started sobbing.
"I'm so sorry, Greg. I shouldn't have…"
He was off the sofa in an instant and put his arms around her. "It's okay, don't cry. Come on, Meg, don't cry."
She stopped and looked at him. "No one but you has ever called me that. I can't believe you remember."
He shrugged. She put her hand on his face and ran the palm down his check, feeling the roughness of his beard. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. They stared at each other. Slowly, he leaned towards her and kissed her. It was a light, tentative kiss, but it held the promise of passion contained for thirty years. She kissed him back and moved her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. Seconds later when they broke apart, he said, "You always had the most amazing kisses."
"I'm surprised you remembered them."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I'm sure there's been a lot of women since then."
"Doesn't mean I don't remember good sex."
She looked hurt. He pulled her closer to him. "I remember more than that."
"So do I."
He sighed and sat back on the sofa, pulling her with him. He leaned in to kiss her again and then deepened it. His hands started roaming down her body, feeling all the curves and soft spots. She wasn't skinny, but she wasn't fat. She was round in all the right places and while she didn't have a lean athletic body, she had a nice healthy one. His hand moved to her breast and he squeezed it gently.
She moved away a bit and looked at him. "Greg, I don't know if this is a good idea."
"It's a great idea."
"It's been thirty years."
"So? Do you have an expiration date?"
She stopped, thinking about how long it had been since she'd been with a man, how really good he looked and how she had been desiring him all evening. Not to mention wanting him for the past thirty years. Really, why not go for it?
Then she looked at the man that was both familiar and yet a stranger. She knew she couldn't do this, not now.
"Greg, I've had a lot of wine today. Our first time together after thirty years should not be cloaked in a wine-soaked haze."
"So, are you saying that when you're not drunk…"
"I'm saying that I'd like to get to know you a little better first. We're very different people than we were thirty years ago."
"Okay, I got that, but…"
"Can we take some time? Get to know each other again?" Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please?"
House looked at her. She was so beautiful. Really, she had aged, but the young woman he had known was still there. And that kiss? Well, he had never forgotten her kisses in thirty years and they were the same. Still, if she was anything like the girl he'd known, she wasn't about to rush into a sexual liaison with him. His best bet was to bide his time.
"Okay, you're probably right. We can take our time, if you want."
She smiled at him. "Thank you, Greg."