Chapter Fifteen: Mama Jeffrey

In an unusual reversal, I awoke after a few hours with my right leg throbbing; we had fallen asleep with Blue Eyes' right leg thrown across my right thigh, and the pressure had cut off my circulation. I tried to gently ease my leg from underneath his, but the movement caused him to roll onto his back with a snorting, smacking sound that quickly settled into his sleeping hum, and I was freed from his weight. I lay there, sweaty and sticky and smelling of sex and soured milk. My breasts and my cheeks were raw from the abrasiveness of Blue Eyes' clipped beard. Gingerly, I eased out of the bed and gathered my clothing from the hall and living room. I found his car keys in his jeans pocket. Taking his car caused me a momentary pang of conscience, but the moment passed quickly. I was showered and tucked into my bed in the Radisson by three in the morning. Unfortunately, my slumber was alarmingly interrupted around eight by a series of staccato raps on the door. I tried to ignore them, but they only increased in volume and frequency until, finally, a familiar voice called out, "Open the dammed door, you car thief."

I jumped from the bed and pulled a grim-visaged Blue Eyes out of the hallway. "Why are you screaming so?" I demanded. I crossed my arms over my breasts since I was standing in nothing more than a thin, Bee Gees t-shirt and my big girl panties.

"My god, you like the Bee Gees?"

"I was pre-adolescent at the time," I grumbled defensively. "And I was going to return your dammed car."

He shoved me aside as he limped to the bed and searched for the room service menu. "The least you can do is buy me breakfast. When do you move out of here?"

I flailed my arms in a helpless gesture and surrendered. "Tomorrow." I crawled back into bed as he settled on the edge.

"I want pancakes. You?" he asked as he lifted the receiver and poised to order.

"Veggie omelette. Juice."

While Blue Eyes listed a request of foods sufficient to feed the original members of the band memorialized on my shirt, another round of knocking on the door began. I irritably climbed out of bed yet again and stomped to the door, flinging it open while curtly demanding, "Who now?"

Had I the gift of precognition, I'd have locked and bolted the door rather than open it. In the artificial light of the hallway stood my alcoholic mother, her face yellowed but artfully decorated. Her slender body was tastefully clad in an expensive but démodé suit of funeral black wool. Her bloodshot eyes examined me scathingly as she brushed past me and entered the room, pulling a cigarette from her purse.

"This is a no smoking roo. . . " my voice trailed off as her sterling lighter clicked into flame.

Blue Eyes, in his innocence, heard my voice and turned from the phone. "No, Tiger, I can't have sex with you right now. I think I'm lactose intolerant after last night."

"Isn't this cozy, Audra," my mother said in her aristocratic southern accent.

B.E. opened his mouth and hung up the phone.

I was digging through my gym bag in search of a pair of blue jeans. "Mother, this is Dr. Gregory House. Blue Eyes, I mean, Greg, this is my mother. Imogene Jeffrey."

Blue Eyes stood uncomfortably and took my mother's outstretched, limp hand. He bent over slightly as if he thought he should kiss it, but he elected to give it a gentle catch-and-release. Her milky eyes surveyed him with distaste as she lifted her cigarette to her lips, exhaling a gentle stream of smoke into the air from between her ruby lips.

"Is this your man, Audra?" she asked, turning away from B.E. as if he didn't exist.

I was wiggling into a pair of black denims. "My man, Mother?"

Rarely was B.E. rendered speechless by anyone, but Imogene Jeffrey was making a good start. He snatched up his cane and limped around her to stay within her view.

"Yes. Is this, this Dr. House. Is he the father of your baby? Your baby – you do remember you have a baby, don't you, Audra?"

"Tiger is an excellent mother and was present at the birth of her daughter. Where the f#ck were you?" Blue Eyes demanded.

Mother calmly said to me, "Audra, surely your man knows Auburn was in the Sugar Bowl with all the required social engagements."

Blue Eyes gave my mother an untenable gaze. "Zelda, that would be your granddaughter's name, is still in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. She weighed under three f#cking pounds. She's just barely able to breathe on her own. You might want to visit her there, but you wouldn't be allowed to smoke," B.E. spat at her.

I vaulted over a chair to get between the two combatants. Although I knew how quick and vicious Blue Eyes' mouth could be, I had the unfortunate experience of knowing how cold my mother's stare was.

"Audra, please tell your man I was not addressing him."

"Gentleman," I said.

Blue Eyes looked at me. "What?"

"Gentleman. He's a 'gentleman,'" I informed my mother.

She looked around for an ashtray and, seeing none, finally flicked her ashes onto the floor. "I don't have much time, Audra. Your father insisted I come assess the situation. This whole thing, an illegitimate child, and at your age, is just so, so, sordid." Her mouth twisted as if she had been sucking on a persimmon.

"Sordid?" Blue Eyes exclaimed. "You think your daughter's 'situation' is sordid? What kind of coldhearted b!tch . . . "

"Mother!" I interrupted. "We were just going downstairs for breakfast. Why don't you go save us a table while I find a more suitable blouse."

Blue Eyes turned his back to the two of us and pounded his cane on the floor. His fury was palpable. I grabbed my mother's arm above the elbow and led her to the door.

"Yes, that outfit is extremely unflattering, even if you have just given birth." She pulled herself up to her full height and took another drag on her cigarette. "Don't be long. This hotel heating system dries out my complexion."

I had no sooner closed the door on her than B.E. wheeled on me.

"Blouse? Since when do you wear blouses? And who is that, that, mannequin? Is the Bride of Chucky really your mother? My god, how are you even moderately sane?"

I pulled my yellow maternity tunic out of the closet and slipped into it. "Shut up, Blue Eyes. Your car keys are on the bedside table. You are free to leave. I can handle her by myself."

He caught me, stretching his cane behind my back and holding me against his chest. "Like he!! I'm leaving you alone with that viper. I'm your gentleman."

I inclined my head onto his chest and allowed myself to breathe deeply for an instant. I adored him, in that moment, for not wanting to abandon me, but I hated him at the same time for the same reason. Having him with me was just going to make the skirmish with my mother even worse.

"Come on, then, Dr. House. Let's go slay a dragon."

"Now you're talking, Tiger."

We found her at a table by a window torturing waiters. She had one frightened teenaged boy trying to find a carafe of coffee to meet her approval, while a pretty, young girl was bringing out a variety of toasted bread products and condiments. A third, older woman was pouring glasses of water and juice to set at the place settings. As we sat down, I notice my mother was holding a fork to the light and scratching off an imaginary bit of food with her scarlet fingernail. She held it aloft, clucked her tongue, and the older waitress promptly brought her a new service of silverware. Mother shook her head sadly.

"How long will you be gracing us with your presence?" Blue Eyes asked with just the slightest tinge of sarcasm.

Mother caught the eye of the older waitress. "Honey, could you add some vodka to this tomato juice? And not the bar brand, please. Something worth drinking. Absolut would be fine." She waved her hand in dismissal.

"Miss," Blue Eyes called to the waitress before she could escape. "Bring me a double of the same and, he!!, a double for my lady here, too." He gave me a cheesy grin.

Mother raised her eyebrows at me. "Drinking so early in morning, Audra? Do you think that's wise?"

"Imogene, I think that's the wisest thing our Tiger could do." B.E. was settling in, readying for a sparring match with my mother.

The young, male waiter came to take our orders. B.E. ordered pancakes with every kind of meat on the menu. I ordered my omelette. Mother maintained an unsavory expression throughout. When her turn came, she closed her menu and said, simply, "Dry toast and three scrambled egg whites, no oil, please."

"Damm, Imogene, you don't care much for food, do you," B.E. said.

Mother smoothed her hands over her bosom. "Dr. House, I think a woman should take care of her appearance." She lit another cigarette. She didn't smile until the waitress brought her drink. Admittedly, I smiled, too, when I tasted the alcohol.

"Is that a southern thing, Imogene?" Blue Eyes asked.

"Is what a southern thing, Dr. House?"

"Narcissism."

I thought I was going to have a heart attack, or vomit at the very least.

"Audra," Mother turned to me, completely ignoring Blue Eyes' question, "your father and I thought, perhaps, you should consider putting your baby up for adoption."

She punctuated her statement with a puff of smoke.

My mouth opened but no words would form.

The waiter brought our food. I lifted my fork and set it back down. Repeatedly. Blue Eyes started to eat, but he watched me from the corners of his eyes and slowed down. Mother picked at her food in her usual manner.

"Imogene," Blue Eyes finally said while signaling the waitress to bring the two of us more bloody marys, "I don't want to offend, but I am fascinated by your phenomenal lack of familial affection. Have you no interest at all in your granddaughter?"

"Is she your daughter, Dr. House? Because, if she is, then why have you not married Audra and made the baby legitimate? And if the baby isn't yours, why are you discussing this with me at all?"

"Yes, Mother, let's have a good old southern Baptist wedding. I'll wear a fluffy white dress and carry gardenias. Dad can wear a tux, and you can wear something that coordinates with Jack Black. If we wait long enough, Zelda can crawl down the aisle with the rings tied around her neck. Greg could be an usher, but ushers can't actually usher if they're in wheelchairs, I guess. And Blue Eyes, here, will make a pretty gimpy groom."

"You always did like the wounded ones," Mother said drily.

"Gimp still in the room," Blue Eyes exclaimed.

I was too pissed off to attend to B.E. "That's right, Mother. I love my brother. I love Blue Eyes. I love my premature daughter. I . . . "

"Whoa there, Mama," Blue Eyes stopped me with a hand on my arm. "Who do you love?"

"Huh?" I stuttered, turning to look at him.

"I believe you just told this doctor you love him," my mother sniffed as she motioned for the waitress to remove her plate.

I shook my head. "I was just making a point," I demurred.

Blue Eyes laughed. "Yeah, Little Mama, quite a point."

"Shut up."

"Yes," my mother said, "I can hear the wedding bells now."

I turned back to her. "Mother, I am not giving Zelda up for adoption. Period."

"And we're not tying the wedding rings around Zelda's neck, for Christ's sake," Blue Eyes chuckled.

I slapped his arm and took a long swig of my second drink.

"You said you love me," he whispered loudly to me.

"Shut the f#ck up, you ass," I whispered back.

"Audra," my mother admonished, "I can't abide this language." She sipped the last of her drink and stubbed out her cigarette. "I have a room here. I think I will go unpack and take a nap. Perhaps we should meet around one for lunch?" She looked at me expectantly, and I nodded compliantly.

She rose from the table and exited the dining room, leaving us the bill. As soon as she was out of earshot, Blue Eyes leaned over.

"You said you loved me."

I turned on him. "My goddammed mother, the spawn of satan himself, is here to roast me over the fires of he!!, and you want to torment me over one slip of the tongue. Get over yourself. And if you really want me to be in love with you, pay this bill and kill my mother." I tried to emulate my mother's regal exit, but I tripped over my chair and barely missed landing on my face.