CHAPTER 17

BON APETITE

Italy reminded me of California in some ways. The weather in the summer was dry and hot like San Diego and it didn't receive a lot of rain in the winter. The terrain was similar, brown in the summer, green in the winter. The villa was located in Ferrara, not too far from Venice. It was a six bedroom mansion with large patios and gorgeous gardens out back. Mama Ferrari taught me to cook real Italian. Her own daughter hated to cook and so I think interest in cooking endeared me to her. We spent hours in the kitchen together talking in my horrible Italian. Gianni spoiled me with operas, dinners, yacht trips, and some of the best lovemaking I ever engaged in. I ended up staying with the Ferrari's much longer than I should have. They were generous and they were genuinely fond of me, as I was fond of them. After two years at their villa I almost had to sneak out in the middle of night or they would never have let me go. Gianni and I were lovers and friends. There were no strings between us. When I left I gave him a kiss and promised that I would come back.

I left Ferrara in a car that I had bought much to Gianni's disappointment, "Cara, cara, this isn't a car, this is a box on wheels."

"I'm not buying a Ferrari just to travel around Europe. I need room for all my things. Now be nice to me." I pouted. He smiled at me and gave me a big kiss.

I went to France and traveled around the Riviera and up through the countryside to Paris. I didn't like France, I didn't enjoy it as much as Italy or Britain for some reason. To this day I can't put my finger on why. I didn't stay too long, but before I left Paris I called Blythe and John.

"Hello?" Blythe's voice sounded the same.

"Hello Blythe, it's Maggie."

She screamed into the room, "John ...get on the phone, it's Maggie. Maggie, darling we've been so worried; it's been three years. Greg told us he had no idea where you were. Where are you?" I heard the other extension pick up and I knew John was also on the phone.

"I'm in Paris right now. I'm on my way to Spain. I'm sorry that it's been so long. I wasn't exactly proud of what happened with Greg. You know, all those, 'I told you so's'."

"Oh honey, we didn't mean to scare you off. We just wanted you to know what you were getting into. You know he's not at Johns Hopkins anymore. He's at UCLA finishing his residency and..."

"Blythe, please don't get me wrong, if I'm going to call you two, I need to know that you won't discuss Greg with me. I can't go there. I hope you understand?"

John said, "We promise not to talk about him around you, but please don't be a stranger; please come home and see us."

"I can't just yet, but I was hoping maybe you two could come to Europe and we could travel around a bit. I think it would be best if we wait until after summer, but before it gets too cold. Why don't you think about coming in September?"

"We'll think about it sweetie, I think that would be fun. How are you doing? Are you working?"

"I hate to say this but I've been leaching off of a family in Ferrara, Italy. They were very good to me and every time I made up my mind to go, they would cry and throw tantrums until I promised to stay. But I speak fluent Italian now and I can make great gnocchi!"

"That's great! How was Cambridge?" John asked.

"Beautiful and interesting. I learned so much and realized that I'm a writer, not a lawyer. How's your health?"

"Oh, John's been having some pain in his shoulder and I've got acid reflux disease, but other than that, we're good."

The conversation continued for another five minutes and I promised them that I would keep in touch, we were all in tears when we said our goodbyes. I was so happy that they seemed to have forgiven me. I just hoped that they had forgiven Greg.

I went to Spain and stayed in Madrid for awhile and then started to travel. I knew Spanish and so I was able to communicate and get job at a local camp outside of Barcelona. It was run by an English couple, Stimo and Evelyn. They had me cleaning around the camp, cooking, serving and entertaining the customers. I was wiped out at the end of the day, but again, it was an honest living and I was enjoying being young and energetic. On my days off we would play back yard cricket and drink tea and eat cucumber sandwiches on the veranda overlooking the neighboring vinery.

That fall the Houses came to visit me in Spain. I quit my job so that I could travel around Europe in my car with them. The Houses were impressed with my ability to drive anywhere in Europe and speak bits and pieces of several languages. I took them to Ferrara just to meet my Italian family, the Ferraris.

When I arrived Gianni grabbed me, and picked me up in his arms, hugging me tightly. His brothers all took turns hugging me as if I had been gone for years. I made the introductions and we all sat down for one of Mama Ferrari's wonderful dinners. We ultimately ended up spending the night at the villa. I stayed with Gianni in his room.

"So this is your family?" he asked as we lay entwined on his bed.

"What's left of it. They took me in when my parents died."

"They are so nice. This Greg you talk about, he is thier son?"

I chuckled because I knew what was coming, "Yes, why?"

"He sounds like a bastard and yet his parents seem so...kind."

"Yes, I know. But I think John was very harsh to Greg when he was young. Besides, I think Greg is Greg because he wants to be. He's so brilliant, he has no patience for all of the little people around him. Now, you haven't seen me for a long time. Shut up and make love to me, okay?"

"That sounds good."

The next morning we joined everyone at the breakfast table outside. Blythe cornered me, "He's very handsome and very European! What's going on between the two of you? Are you in love?" Blythe was hoping that I had moved on and no longer wanted Greg.

"No, we're not in love. We have a very good and close relationship but we aren't in love. Or at least, I'm not in love with him and he's never said anything to me."

"Honey, you need to forget about my son. He's dating. He's moved on."

I nodded. I knew that he would, but it still hurt for his mother to actually tell me what I didn't want to know.

The Houses went home after a month and I was so sad to see them go. They begged me to come home for Thanksgiving. I told them that I couldn't, not yet, but that I would make sure that I kept them posted on my travels. I knew that they were worried about me, but I told them not to worry, I seemed to land on my feet wherever I went.

The Ferrari's allowed me to store some of my belongings at their house because I had decided to go to India. I packed only what I needed into one large backpack and Gianni drove me me to the airport.

"Bella Maggie, you are crazy. You should not go alone to India. If you wait a few months, I can take you. "

I kissed him on his handsome lips, "No, I'll be ok. I'll miss you and I'll send you lots of postcards. Take care Gianni." I jumped out of the car and grabbed my backpack.

"Ciao Maggie," he said. I felt a little sorry, he looked so sad. I almost got back in the car with him.

As I waited at the airport in Milan, I saw a familiar face, it was Charles, one of the residents with Greg at Johns Hopkins. He immediately recognized me.

"Maggie? Aren't you Maggie Malloy– Greg House's girlfriend?"

"I was his girlfriend. Yes, hi Charles, it's good to see you. Are you here on vacation?"

"Yeah, I came over for a seminar and stayed for a week to tour. You've really blossomed. You're really looking good. House was an idiot. He still is. He's running into problems out in California and has been putting out feelers to move before he's fired. I know because the head of my department asked me what I thought of him. I'm afraid I didn't give him a very good review. He's so brilliant, but such an ass." Charles picked up his bag as if he was getting ready to leave, "Greg hooked up with some pretty stupid women after you left. I guess he hasn't had a shortage of them. They leave him within weeks or he dumps them. My friend says he's becoming more of a hermit all the time."

I didn't want to hear any of this, I tried looking away to indicate that I wasn't listening, but he kept on and on. I finally pretended that the announcement over the loudspeaker was for my flight. I said a quick goodbye and took off.

CHAPTER 18

CLIMB EVERY MOUNTAIN

I took off for my Asian adventure. After starting in Madras, I ended up in a village just outside of Zhang-Mu, a border town in Tibet, working in a makeshift missionary hospital and school where I taught English to the local villagers. A lot of students from Cambridge on their year off before University (they frequently take a year off between Sixth form and University) were at the school teaching various classes. I was actually one of the older teachers there. Certainly the most educated. We had a great time together on our time off. We spent most of our days off playing football (soccer) and cricket. I was becoming a pretty good slow bowler. As it turned cold, we played cards and scrabble inside. We were like our own fraternity/sorority.

While I was freezing my butt off during the winter of my 24th year, Greg was earning a reputation as a world class diagnostician. He was also learning the fine art of golf on his days off. He and another doctor from his hospital, who also had a reputation for being difficult, played twice a week. They seemed to enjoy whining about patients, staff and administration and drinking single malt whiskey together, which Greg could now afford. Greg was nailing a lot of the nurses and the occasional waitress or barmaid. He actually had no excuse not to visit his parents and rather than have them make good on their threats to come visit him at his house, he made the odd trip down to San Diego to see them.

I later found out from his mother that they would occasionally mention me. "We received a post card from Maggie," his mother told him and then watched for his reaction. She said that she could tell he was interested because there would be a subtle change in posture and a fleeting look of pain.

He shook his head, "Great, I'm sure you're going to tell me all about it...just like you told me all about your European Vacation with her."

"She's in Zhang-Mu in Tibet, teaching English to villagers."

He gave her a look like, "Are you kidding?' He rolled his eyes, "Well, nothing like getting a Bachelors from Georgetown and a Masters from Cambridge and using it to teach kids in Tibet who probably will never need to speak English."

"At least she is living her life. What are you doing?" Blythe asked.

"Golfing." He gave her a quick smile and left the room

But Blythe told me that she found the stack of my postcards, which she had organized by the date received, completely mixed up after Greg left that weekend.

I was stranded in Zhang-Mu at the beginning of March 1993. They had too many "volunteers" and had suggested I think about leaving, soon. I wanted to stay in the Himalayas. I was addicted to living in the mountains. I was about to give up and fly back to Italy when I ran into some Americans in town. They could see that I was either American or British by my clothes and the blonde hair, so they waved me down.

"Excuse me miss, do you know where can we get some food items that we need?"

I asked them, "What type?"

"Rice, lentils and beans."

I had been on my way home so I stopped, looked them over and said, "I'll take you because you'll just get lost."

During our excursion to the shop where the Sherpas sold staples to the mountain guides, I discovered that these two guys were the lead guides of one of the American expeditions that was going to try and summit Everest over the next two months. One was Roger Townsend and the other was Fred Ventura.

"You guys are crazy." I shook my head in amazement.

"Won't argue with that. But we have ten climbers paying $65,000 each to do it. We have our license to climb it and we're going to summit probably in May. They have to first acclimate to the first two levels and then we begin the ascent when the weather clears."

We talked awhile longer and had some laughs over the local cuisine. Finally Fred asked, "Hey Maggie, can you cook?"

"Yeah, why?"

Fred and Roger looked at each other and smiled like they just had an epiphany.

"We need an American cook and rather than fly one in from the USA, how would you like to make $30,000 for eight weeks of work?"

"$30,000 for eight weeks? What's the catch?" I asked.

"Horrible working conditions, lots of babysitting and no thanks...but the money is good!"

I thought it over and decided that it was the best offer I had and so I took them up on it. Actually, it was really hard work. Before we climbed to Base Camp, which was at 17,700 feet, we had to load the pack animals with the goods. We smelled horrible afterwards. Then we all had to rush back to Zhang-Mu to take a shower and then pose for photos.

Each American had his own individual picture taken with the guides, sherpas and me, and then one taken with the whole expedition all together. One of the Americans looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place him. In the photos I wore a low cut v-neck thermal top and a skirt, leggings and then muklak boots. My hair was down below my shoulders and had turned a strawberry blonde. Roger had positioned each American male next to me in their individual photo. We had two women on the expedition and when they took their photos, I was placed in the back away from them and Terry, a very good looking male guide, took my place up front. I didn't understand this until later. As Roger said, "Guys like showing off a photo of a hot blonde standing next to them."

I learned that two of the Americans were doctors and they were doing high altitude research and were willing to pay each of us $500.00 for two samples of blood. One after we arrived at base camp; the other when we arrived at Camp 1. I signed up.

The Americans expected to be waited on hand and foot and like Fred and Roger said, there were no thanks. I was up sometimes in the middle of the night administering aspirin, cold compresses for nose bleeds, pepto bismol for various stomach maladies (not traced to my cooking thank you.) I slept in a tent at base camp where we would acclimate for the next two weeks before moving up the mountain. I would climb one more level with them and then stay put at Camp 1.

Despite everything, I was having a great time. The guides and sherpas were crazy, loony guys but lots of fun. We joked and kidded each other all the time. We would frequently trade things with other expeditions...sugar for eggs, coffee for spices, whatever you needed at the time. Bartering was half the fun.

Of course we went behind one of the larger boulders to do our "business" which we had to cover with a shovel full of organic enzymes and dirt that was kept behind the rock. It was rough living, but I was having a blast.

One of the Americans was a doctor from Baylor. He was amazed that I was a graduate of Georgetown and Cambridge and ended up cooking in an Everest camp. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He was average looking, tall and well built.

"What are you running away from?" he asked.

"What makes you think I'm running away from anything?"

"Someone as bright as you doesn't come this far because they got lost on a vacation. I don't know, but you look incredibly familiar to me." I couldn't place him at all. "I'm Thomas Duffy and you're?"

I blushed. Thomas Duffy, I knew that name. He was the head of infectious diseases when Greg was at Johns Hopkins.

"Maggie Molloy."

"Maggie, I knew I recognized you! Wow, you ran as far away from Greg House as one can get, didn't you? I heard you walked in on him and Hot Pants Donna. Christ what an idiot. None of us understood what he was doing with Donna, considering he had you at home, but then that's House. He doesn't play by the rules. You know, after you left him he was impossible to deal with. He was cruel and vicious and poor Donna suffered the most from his tongue. It was like he was punishing her for what he did to you. Man, you escaped a bullet. You ought to be grateful that you left when you did. He started drinking more and he was gambling too. He finally insulted the wrong person and ended up on the fast track to the west coast. I heard he was asked to leave UCLA too. I don't know where the son of a b!tch is now. But I have to say, if you're sick and dying, you want Greg House diagnosing you. He's a genius. An idiot for losing you, but a genius at what he does."

I really hadn't wanted to hear any of this. First, it brought up all the images of Greg screwing Donna and then it made me start worrying about why he was drinking, gambling and moving from job to job. I knew I wouldn't sleep that night and I didn't. I stayed outside the tent wrapped in layers of thermals and my jacket staring up at the full moon and stars shining off the south face of Everest. I found myself wishing Greg was there to share it with me. He would have been as enchanted as I was.

It took me several days to shake the feeling of sadness and hopelessness I felt. I wanted to just sleep but thank God that wasn't an option at base camp. We broke camp a few days later and climbed up another 2,200 feet to the next level, Camp 1. It was harder to breathe at this level and colder. I had four more weeks at this level before my stint was over.

Terry and Fred convinced me to go with them up part way to Camp II, another 1,400 ft up. We weren't actually going the entire way, just to the large crevice so that they could take my picture crossing the ice ladder. The ice ladder was usually crossed with crampons and trepidation. One slip and you fell thousands of feet to your death.

However, Fred and Terry had rigged a back brace for me with cables that came out of the bottom of by my ski pants. It allowed me to cross the ice ladder and, if I fell, I would be suspended between the two edges of the crevice, but I wouldn't fall very far. They could then pull from one side and I would be dragged over. The cables were hidden and so the boys got the idea to send me out to the middle of the ice ladder and let me dangle my legs over the edge. They asked me to take off my jacket. I did. I sat there, in my thermal top looking like I'm having fun dangling my legs over a massive crevice, when, in fact, I'm scared to death. But the photo looked spectacular. When I saw the photo I laughed and was grateful that the Houses would never see it or they would have me committed. I look like a lunatic about ready to jump from a skyscraper.

Tom started to hit on me at Camp 1. He was cute enough and he had that doctor mojo going on but I didn't want him going home and at some medical seminar start bragging that he had nailed Greg House's ex girlfriend. But then there was a part of me that did want him to go back and tell Greg that the guy he hated had been with me. Ah, but I couldn't do that, my motto was, "The best revenge is living well.

I got back to Camp 1 and while I was there Tom drew my blood sample. I spent the next two weeks listening on the radio to the expedition ease it's way up and finally summit on a nice clear day. The radio crackled the next night with disaster as several people failed to get off the summit in time to beat a freak storm. It was so painful to hear the voices of people fade as they died. We were the only expedition that didn't lose a client on the South face that year.

When the expedition was over, I helped break camp at Camp1. I helped take down the tents, pack up the Yaks at Base Camp and get us back to the village. On the day that I broke camp a woman named Ester died under the care of Gregory House and although he begged the family for the opportunity to conduct an autopsy, they said no. It would haunt Greg for years that a woman died under his care and he didn't know why.

I was told later that the following summer, Dr. Thomas Duffy was asked to present his paper in Hawaii at the AMA conference. House was attending to knock out all his yearly education requirements. House had just met a new oncologist at the new hospital where he was practicing, Dr. James Wilson. For some unknown reason, they had hit it off. House wanted to go hassle Thomas Duffy during his speech because he had been his such a pr!ck of a boss. Wilson just wanted to watch.

They walked about half way up the aisle and took a seat in the middle of the lecture.

"...which gauges hypoxic ventilatory response, or HVR in essence one's breathing response to low levels of oxygen. What we do is gradually lower the oxygen level in the inspired air through the mouthpiece. The subject is relaxed, not doing anything. But the body responds by breathing more. Within five to 10 minutes we can simulate what the brain will tell the body to do at altitude in terms of breathing. So that wraps up the laboratory part. We did blood tests of the guides and staff at both Base camp and Camp 1 at 19, 900 and discovered the same results as the lab so we will be taking that information when we go back to K2.

On a more personal note, I have a few slides of the climb and the staff who gave us the blood samples. He started to click the slides through, this first photos is Mt. Everest. The second slide was a photo of me with the guides and cook with Everest in them background."

The photo of me standing next to Thomas Duffy flashed up on the screen. There were murmurs through the audience and a couple of wolf whistles. Wilson leaned over to House who was staring intently at the slide, "I think I might consider a trip up Everest if it means I get to summit her." He leaned back and noticed that either House hadn't heard him or something was wrong.

"House, do you know that woman in the photo?"

He said nothing but nodded his head yes.

"Who is she? She's gorgeous." Wilson asked.

"Someone I knew a long time ago." House was glum.

Duffy continued. " And here's our cook on the ice bridge." He showed the photo of me dangling my feet off the ice ladder over the massive crevice.

The entire audience made a sound of shock when they saw the photo. The photo was so insane that the audience was talking and laughing for several minutes. Greg was dumbfounded, "What was she thinking?" The photo made it look much more dangerous than it was.

After the lecture, Greg went straight to Duffy, "Tom, what are you doing with Maggie?"

Tom was trying to answer important medical questions from other doctors who had come up afterwards. But Greg was Greg and he wanted Tom's attention. He walked up to Tom and yelled, "I asked you what were you doing with Maggie?" All the remaining doctors looked at him and shook their heads. They left the room.

Tom turned to Greg, "Maggie was the cook for the expedition. You've done a great job House, you've manage to turn a gifted and intelligent woman into a cook half way around the world. Maggie waited on me the whole time I was there if you get my drift." He started to pack up and Greg grabbed him by the collar and went to hit him but

Wilson grabbed House's arm.

"House, House...he isn't worth this. Come on, let's get out of here, come on."

Greg backed down and said, "Don't go near her again, ever. "

Later in the bar, Wilson asked, "Who is Maggie?"

"Just another good thing in my life that I fucked up."

(HI readers,thanks for reading. If you are enjoying it, please let me know. Thank You.)