37 – I just might have a problem that you'd understand . . . Lean on me when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on" – "Lean on Me" – Bill Withers
Cuddy had been putting off the conversation for weeks. The conversation she knew she needed to have, the one she desperately wanted, even though she kept trying to deny that she wanted it, even to herself.
True, she was using the excuse that she'd become distracted recently. But she refused to take the entirety of the blame for that onto her own shoulders. House's mood swings, which affected his work schedule, had become almost unmanageable.
Cuddy had been trying to physically distance herself from House. But the more she avoided him, the more she felt herself and her thoughts inexorably drawn to him.
She longed to have him storm into her office, his eyes blazing like a welder's arc, demanding she give into him and his most recent insane diagnosis or procedure. She missed the particular timbre of his voice as he raised it to argue his point. And the way that he moved, so fluid, with almost a dancer's grace nearly making the observer nullify the visual of his jarring, limping stride.
When Cuddy had caught glimpses of House moving down the hallway or hobbling through the lobby and clinic, there was no question he was in tremendous pain. His gait and therefore his pain levels had taken a huge upswing since Cameron's abrupt departure. Her exit had also prompted House's change in work habits as well.
Cuddy was trying to avoid making a connection between the two events. But even with her formidable abilities to dismiss the obvious, she gave way to her baser nature, more often than not, particularly in her relations with House.
That was why she had played that trick on him over Thanksgiving. Cuddy felt her jealousy rear its ugly head when she discovered the most recent correlations between Cameron and House. So she struck at House, in such a petty and mean-spirited way that afterwards, she couldn't even recognize herself as the instigator of the whole situation.
Lucas was certainly taking some of the credit for it but Cuddy had to admit that the thing had really been her idea and required her engineering to pull it off. No, she was entirely to blame and she was still mentally beating herself up for the entire affair, especially since House had been physically affected, probably from the result of a six-hour drive cramping his already injured leg.
But how dare House choose someone over her and then expect her to be waiting in the wings when that other woman left and he had no one else to turn to? Did he think she was destined to be his runner-up?
Upon further contemplation however, Cuddy remembered that House had come to her office first, had even invited her to dinner before he discovered her pre-existing relationship with Lucas. It was only after that that he had taken off on his bike with Cameron. Could it be that Cameron was the afterthought and not herself?
And there had never been any evidence that anything had happened between them. After all, if something had, then why did Cameron leave and not Chase? Wouldn't it be the reverse if Cameron and House had anything to hide? And could she really blame House if something had happened? Cameron had always tried to manipulate a relationship with House and she was the one that was married, not him. He was not seeing anyone at all as far as Cuddy knew. It was simply a matter of wanting House to remain alone and unchanged when really, everything had already changed for him and everyone around him.
It had only been after the Thanksgiving debacle, that House had buried himself in his work. He'd left her and Lucas alone; even Lucas had said that House had, in his own way, accepted them. Why else had he ceased and desisted from any attacks on that front?
So now here she was again, wondering what was going on with her prize diagnostician even though she had a boyfriend and baby waiting for her at home. Not only had House's pain worsened, but he had also just lost two patients, the last one had not been diagnosed yet when she had flat-lined.
As much as he denied and deflected, Cuddy knew that the losses had been serious blows, not to his ego, but to his psyche, and maybe even to his heart. So here she was back to square one, focusing not on the people who were waiting for her at home while she worked late, but on the dour physician who had just left her hospital with his motorcycle helmet and backpack in one hand and his cane in the other, limping heavily and in obvious pain.
Nurse Brenda had been working late too and Cuddy noticed her through the glass office doors, closing her file folders as Cuddy was turning off her own desk lamp.
Brenda had noticed House's exaggerated limp as well when he passed by and the look on her face registered something, almost indefinable. It was not pity but there was a seriousness to her gaze and a sweetness that looked like compassion.
Just as Brenda began to put on her coat, the intercom on the desk buzzed for her attention. She knew she could not pretend to ignore it. Dr. Cuddy would see her standing nearby from her own office. Still, she hesitated. Something within her felt that this was one summons she would rather not answer.
But Brenda had chosen nursing as her profession for a very good reason. She was not one to turn away from someone else's need. So she steeled herself for the axe she felt was sure to fall and walked into Cuddy's office.
She stuck her head just inside the glass doors saying, "I was just getting ready to go home. Did you need something?"
"Yes, please Brenda. Do you have a few minutes before you have to go?"
Brenda's first inclination was to respond in the negative. But as she searched her boss's face, she decided again to face the formidable Lisa Cuddy who stood there, her emotions registering all too clearly on her lovely visage. So she walked into the office and sat down in the chair opposite Cuddy's desk.
Cuddy reached over and turned her desk lamp back on. Obviously, her request for Brenda's presence had been a last minute decision on her part. Intrigued even more by the fact that her boss, the ultimate planner, was doing something off schedule, Brenda leaned a bit more forward in the office chair, her brunette ponytail slipping from her back to hang over her left shoulder.
"Brenda, I want to ask you something. Not as a boss, but as a . . ."
"Friend?" Brenda finished Cuddy's statement for her.
"Yes," Cuddy said, sounding relieved. Now that she was in her office talking to this woman, she began to wonder why she had put off this particular conversation for so long. Brenda was, typical to her nature, taking things in stride. She was non-judgmental and honest. But then, that was exactly why Cuddy had postponed her talk with Brenda. When it came right down to it, she was afraid of hearing the truth.
Brenda noticed the change of emotions that swept over Dr. Cuddy. This wasn't easy for her, opening up to someone else. How analogous she was at times to Dr. House, particularly in regards to their over-protectiveness towards anything personal in their lives.
That was by no means their only similarity however. Brenda often felt as if she had a front row seat to the grand parade that was PPTH and more specifically, the sideshow of doctors House and Cuddy. How often had she seen one of them looking toward the other, a plethora of emotions written across the face, in the movements, words and actions?
House was slightly better at hiding his feelings but Brenda had played witness often enough, particularly recently, to the true nature of his thoughts regarding Lisa Cuddy. No matter his mask, his eyes betrayed him as they strayed toward her office in the hope of finding her there, the expression of anguish behind the blue when he spied Cuddy with Lucas and the look of longing that followed the couple, long after they'd left the hospital.
As for Lisa Cuddy, her looks of attentiveness and caring that she generously bestowed upon her chief diagnostician differed in intensity and emotion from the looks that she gave her current boyfriend. And Brenda had long ago formed a theory as to the why.
Brenda smiled encouragingly at her boss. "You wanted to talk to me about something that isn't work-related, something personal?"
Cuddy let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. "Yes. Thank you for coming right to the point. I think I would have taken much longer."
"Well, I'm assuming that you will want to get home to hug Rachel at some point in the next week."
Cuddy laughed. "Do you really think I would have spent that much time . . ."
"Beating about the bush? It is a distinct possibility." Brenda smiled at Cuddy again. "What did you want to ask me?"
"I want to know why you don't like Lucas Douglas, my boyfriend."
Brenda gasped. She thought she had hidden her feelings better than that. But now that Lisa had called her on it, there was no reason to deny how she felt. There was, however, plenty of reasons to apologize.
"I'm terribly sorry if I've acted in any way unprofessional . . ."
Cuddy waved her hand absentmindedly. "Not at all."
" . . . or in any way that has caused you personal pain," Brenda bright eyes met Cuddy's storm clouded ones as she said, "then I am truly sorry."
Cuddy walked round to the front of her desk to stand directly before Brenda. She slumped backward, resting against the lip on the desktop. She looked down at her feet and when her eyes met Brenda's again, they were edged with silver tears.
"No," she said softly. "If anyone has been hurting me, it's only been myself."
Brenda reached forward, taking Cuddy's hand in her own. The smile on her lips had turned more melancholy but her eyes stayed on Cuddy's face, studying her.
"You are a scientist," Brenda said. "You need facts and figures and data to back up any theories you may have." She sighed. "Even though I'm a nurse, I'm not as rigidly scientific. I go with heartfelt reactions 99.9% of the time. And I'm better off for it."
"And the .1% of the time?"
"Always, always turns out bad for me," Brenda replied. "When was the last time you followed your heart Lisa?"
Cuddy's face froze, she jerked her hand from Brenda's grasp before she even realized she'd done it. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean . . . you just surprised me."
"Isn't that why you wanted to talk to me? Because you know I'll be honest with you? Even if you don't want to hear it?"
Cuddy was standing upright. "I guess so. You still caught me off guard though."
"If you really need the unvarnished truth to shake some sense into you, why aren't you talking to Dr. House?" Brenda said while looking at Cuddy quite sagely.
Cuddy felt all the blood drain from her face. "I'm not talking to him about Lucas."
"Why not? You met Lucas through him, didn't you? Aren't they friends, in a way? Some sort of strange way, I would imagine since it involves House."
Cuddy leaned back against her desk once more. She looked to her shoes again as if they had the answers she sought. "I just can't talk to him about this."
A smile of deep understanding crossed Brenda's face. "Lisa, I've known you a long time. We've been friends for a long time. Yes?"
"Yes," Cuddy said. "I consider you a good friend."
"Then you should know me well enough by now to realize I'm not in the habit of giving advice to people. That's your mother's job. And that'll be your job once Rachel is old enough."
Cuddy thought of her daughter and smiled.
"All I can say about Lucas is that if you need to ask me about your relationship with him then you yourself recognize that you are having doubts. If you didn't, then you wouldn't need to ask someone else how they feel about him. You're questioning your own feelings about him, aren't you?"
Lisa Cuddy slowly raised her eyes, the light of comprehension swirling within the midst of the blue, green and grey, still edged with silver tears.
Brenda stood up. "And now, I'm going to go back on my own word and give you some advice. Follow your heart Lisa. It will never steer you wrong."
"But my daughter. I've only been doing . . ."
"What you thought was best for her. Why do you think that what's best for her mother is divergent from what's best for Rachel? Don't you know that if you're happy then she'll reflect that? Don't you realize what an important lesson you can teach Rachel? That when she's old enough, she too should follow her heart?"
Brenda stepped forward and gave Lisa a quick hug. "I know you're only trying to make everyone else happy Lisa. That's the administrator in you, the negotiator. But who's trying to make you happy? If you're not doing it, then no one else will."
She turned to go. "I take that back. Maybe there's one other person who would seriously try to make you happy."
"Brenda," Cuddy said. "You can't just make an enigmatic statement like that and go home and leave me here."
Brenda had reached the office's double doors. She placed one hand on the door but turned her head to reply.
"Enigmatic? That's like a puzzle, isn't it?" She tilted her head slightly, looking at Cuddy from the corners of her eyes. "Gee, I wonder who around here is really good at solving puzzles?" With a slight smile and a last reassuring wink at Cuddy, Brenda opened the door, breezing through it into the lobby and out into the chilly evening.