HI EVERYONE!
SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE. THANKS SO MUCH FOR BEING SO PATIENT AND FOR ALL YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS!
HERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND ENJOY!! :-)
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CHAPTER 38: Please read and comment.
TEN DAYS LATER:
It was an early Tuesday morning when Wilson walked into Cuddy's office, finding her incredibly busy at her desk, as he had the previous week.
Her desk was surrounded by cardboard boxes that had the logo "Noteworthy Invitations" stamped on them.
"Hi," she said with a smile, only momentarily looking up from the pile of papers in front of her.
"… Hi," he replied, gazing at her thoughtfully.
It had been only over a week since her miscarriage and D &C, but Cuddy had returned to work last Wednesday, only taking two days off to heal.
And just like Sophie had done years ago, Cuddy had thrown herself right back into her work, even starting a new project by planning a hospital fundraising event.
Wilson took one of the empty seats facing her desk and picked up a red and blue colored cardstock invitation with bright yellow lettering from one of the cardboard boxes that was next to his chair.
"YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED
TO PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL'S FIRST ANNUAL BOWL-A- THON FUNDRAISER EVENT
SATURDAY, JULY 14, 2009 PRINCETON LANES
COCKTAILS, HORS D'OUVERS
ALL PROCEEDS TO BENEFIT PPTH PEDIATRICS," Wilson read aloud.
"Did you see the posters I had printed to match the invitations?" she asked him excitedly. "I made sure to put them in every wing AND in the cafeteria and the Clinic."
"Yep. I saw them," Wilson replied, his tone decidedly less excited than hers.
"I just got off the phone with a company that can make red and blue bowling shirts with 'PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL' on the back for all the players at a very reasonable price," Cuddy added.
"… That's… great," Wilson said after a concerted pause.
"And I've already contacted many of our biggest donors and they're thrilled to attend," she said with a broad grin.
Wilson only nodded.
"I don't know why I didn't think of this years ago. This'll be so much more fun than a formal event with tuxes and gowns," she went on.
"Oh, and people are already signing up for teams, so make sure you and House do too," she reminded him.
"…You sure you're taking on too much at once?" Wilson asked her carefully.
"No. Why?" Cuddy asked.
"It's only been a week since the miscarriage," he reminded her gently. "Shouldn't you be taking it easy?"
"I'm fine. I'm on Tylenol, the cramping's minimal—" she began with a dismissive wave of her hand, keeping her eyes on her paperwork.
"I don't just mean the physical pain," he clarified.
At this, Cuddy looked up from her desk, meeting his meaningful gaze.
"I'm FINE," she insisted.
"Now go tell House that if he doesn't sign up for a team that he's not going to get the chance to show off his mad skills," she added.
Wilson drew in a breath and exhaled in defeat. He then got up from his chair and left her office.
He didn't see Cuddy glance up at him one more time, trying not to think about what he'd told her as he closed her door behind him.
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A few moments later, Wilson entered House's private office. House was sitting at his computer, not acknowledging Wilson's presence.
"Cuddy said we have to sign up for a bowling team for this fundraiser thing," Wilson announced.
"Is that your way of asking me out?" House asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"Yes. I figured bowling would be a great first date," Wilson snarked as he took a seat on House's leather couch.
"It is unless you make me pay for the shoes," House retorted.
"What do you think about all of this?" Wilson asked him.
"What? Life? The universe? The economic crisis? The twitter phenomenon?" House replied in an obvious attempt to deflect.
"Cuddy," Wilson stated.
House exhaled, but didn't reply.
"Don't you think that she's taking on too much at once?" Wilson pressed.
"So you think it would be better for her to stay at home alone and miserable so she can dwell for hours on end about losing the baby," House said, turning his attention towards him.
"No. I'm just saying she should take it slow—" Wilson began.
"Cuddy doesn't know how to do that," House interrupted.
"She's not dealing with the reality of the situation," Wilson insisted.
House rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond.
"How are YOU dealing with this?" Wilson asked him.
"There's nothing to deal with. This didn't happen to me," House said.
"It was your child, too," Wilson reminded him.
"She lost the baby because it was obviously not viable. Her body did what it was supposed to do," House stated without any emotion in his voice.
At this, Wilson arched an eyebrow at him.
"What?" House demanded in annoyance.
"You didn't say 'fetus.' You said 'baby.' In fact, you said it twice," Wilson pointed out.
"Oh gimme a break," House drawled, becoming more irritated.
"This affected you emotionally just as much as it's affected her. You need to grieve, too," Wilson said.
"I'm surprised you don't have a pre- printed brochure on coping with loss in your hip pocket for me," House muttered.
"You wouldn't read it anyway," Wilson shot back.
"I'm FINE," House said flatly.
"Yeah. That's what Cuddy said. I don't believe either of you," Wilson asserted.
"How are YOU, by the way?" House suddenly said.
"I'm… fine…" Wilson replied hesitantly, confused by the question.
"Really. Your wedding is off. The latest love of your life moved out, and your sister, who also broke off her engagement, moved in," House reminded him.
"Don't you need to grieve too?" House asked sarcastically.
Upon hearing this, Wilson opened his mouth to say something.
"Or is sticking your nose in everyone else's business and forgetting your own crap your coping mechanism?" House demanded before Wilson could get a word in edgewise.
"I…" was all Wilson could say.
"Once your life is perfect, then you can tell other people how to live. But until then, just keep your damn mouth shut," House stated angrily, turning back to his computer.
Feeling like House had just slapped him in the face, Wilson slumped his shoulders and left House's office, feeling just as defeated as he had when he'd left Cuddy a few minutes earlier.
But unlike Cuddy, House didn't watch him leave.
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An hour later, Sophie and House were at the charge nurse's station in the Clinic.
Sophie was searching through the pile of patient files waiting to be seen for a case that House might be remotely interested in while House rooted through the glass jar of lollipops looking for an orange one.
"Hurry up already," House told her impatiently as he finally dug out an orange lollipop from the bottom of the jar.
"Seven week old female with a deep cough and rapid respiration," Sophie read off a chart she had picked out of the pile.
House brusquely took the chart from her and started skimming through it.
"Mother with a sick pre- term seven week old doesn't go to the ER. Brilliant," House muttered.
"Maybe… she should wait for another doctor," Sophie suggested.
"Why? Because Idiot Mom deserves a doctor with a more gentle bedside manner?" House demanded.
"Because according to her information, she's a single parent and doesn't need you to make her feel that it's her fault that her child is sick," Sophie shot back.
"So if I sugarcoat everything, it'll help her be a better parent," House argued bluntly.
Sophie just stared at him, unable to reply.
"Go call her name and tell her to come to Exam Room 1," House ordered her, taking the file with him to the exam room.
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A few minutes later, a very young single mother who couldn't have been more than twenty was nervously watching House weigh her seven- week old baby girl on the infant scale.
After weighing her, he expertly took the infant off the scale and handed her back to her mother.
He then glanced over Sophie's shoulder to see the infant's weight since her last check- up.
"She lost some weight. Any vomiting or diarrhea?" House asked.
"No," the mother replied as she watched Sophie take notes in the chart and House take out his stethoscope and place it on his ears.
House listened to her heart and lungs carefully in silence while the young mother felt her anxiety grow exponentially.
"How long has she had the cough?" House asked, taking the stethoscope out of his ears.
"Two days," the mother replied.
"Any fever?" House inquired.
"I don't think so," the mother said, shaking her head.
House raised his eyebrows at this.
"You don't THINK so," House repeated flatly.
Sophie kept quiet in her corner of the exam room, writing down all the necessary information.
"Get me the Thermoscan," House ordered Sophie.
Sophie immediately got up from her chair and rooted through one of the drawers, finding the Thermoscan ear thermometer, placing a plastic, disposable cover on the end of it before handing it to House.
House placed the thermometer in the baby's ear and waited a few seconds before it beeped.
"One hundred and one," House read off the thermometer after a few seconds.
"Is that bad?" the mother asked.
"Considering she's only seven weeks old? Yeah, that's bad," House replied in a nasty tone.
"What's wrong with her??" the mother demanded fearfully.
"She has bronchiolitis. Escort Mother of the Year and the baby down to the NICU," House ordered Sophie.
Sophie froze in her spot, her hand automatically flying up to her Tiffany key charm that she was still wearing around her neck.
"… The NICU?" Sophie repeated nervously.
"Just DO IT!" House barked at her, thrusting the file at Sophie, causing her to flinch slightly.
"Yes, doctor," Sophie said dutifully, collecting herself.
After Sophie, the mother and her baby left the exam room, House picked up the receiver of the phone that was mounted on the wall, pressing the speed dial for the NICU.
"This is Chase," Chase answered on the other end after two rings.
"Tidy up a bit down there. You're having guests in a few minutes," House told him before hanging up.
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A short while later, Chase, clad in his yellow scrubs and sneakers, exited one of the rooms of the NICU after assessing and giving preliminary treatment to the seven week old preterm infant that House had transferred him.
He limped up to the mother, who was sitting on a cushioned bench just outside the room where her baby was lying in a bassinet, hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV.
Sophie was sitting next to her, her eyes on Chase as he came closer to them.
Chase glanced at her only briefly before taking a seat next to the mother.
"She's doing better," Chase reported.
"Oh thank god!" the young mother cried in relief.
"We gave her a whiff of oxygen, we've got her on IV fluids and a bronchodilator, and we're going to keep her here overnight for observation," Chase told the mother.
"I'm a terrible mother. I didn't even think to take her temperature," the mother wailed, placing her head in her hands.
"Don't worry about that now. Let's just see how she does from here," Chase advised her.
"Can I stay with her?" the mother pleaded.
"Of course," Chase replied, nodding.
The mother then got up and immediately went into the NICU and took a seat next to her baby's bassinet, wiping her eyes as she did so.
Chase and Sophie remained on the bench, gazing at each other tentatively.
They hadn't spoken since last Saturday, when Chase had shown up at Wilson's apartment to try to convince her to come back to him.
"…You were great with the mother," Sophie finally said.
"Figured House already insulted her. No reason to do it twice," Chase said gruffly with a shrug of his shoulders.
Sophie nodded.
"…How are you?" Sophie asked him softly after a pause.
"How do you think I am?" Chase replied, his voice full of hurt.
Sophie exhaled slightly, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy.
"How's your ankle?" she asked instead.
"Don't do that," he stated flatly.
"I can't be concerned about you?" she asked defensively.
"No. You can't break up our engagement and move out and then care about me. You can't have it both ways," he shot back.
"Why not? Who made the rules?" she demanded.
"I DID," Chase replied sharply.
His words felt like a knife in her heart.
"I never stopped loving you. I never will," she told him sadly.
"And I'll never stop loving you, but I can't spend the rest of our lives trying to convince you of that," Chase replied, forlorn.
"… You didn't even try," she said in a small voice.
"I shouldn't have to," he managed to say, his voice cracking a little as he looked away from her and down at the floor.
Sophie pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry.
She then leaned over and softly kissed Chase's cheek.
Chase closed his eyes at the gentle feel of her sweet lips on his skin, but didn't turn to face her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, getting up off the bench.
Chase watched her leave the NICU, not bothering to brush away the tear that slid down his cheek.
TBC…