Chapter Thirty: And He Doesn't Show Up

"You're trying to fatten me up," I accused him.

"Just trying to keep us healthy," he countered. "Did you get a chance to see Dr. Castillo."

I plopped my bag of medicine on the kitchen table. "I have Wellbutrin and Klonopin for daily use, and Ambien for sleep. And she gave me the name of a therapist. I wanted to see if you knew her before I called her." I dug through my purse for the business car. "A Dr. Marion Murphy. Are you familiar with her?"

"She's very well known and highly regarded. I'm sure Angela told you she specializes in treating women who have been the victims of violent incidents."

I nodded. "You think we'd get along?"

"I don't know her personally, but I think she's a good person to start with. You need to talk about your experiences with a professional counselor."

He was right, of course, and I knew it. However, I wanted to just continue hiding the past events, pushing them away with the demands of daily life. I didn't want to examine my feelings about the rape, much less Aaron's suicide. And I certainly didn't want to have to confront Blue Eyes' possible complicity in that death.

"Audra," Jim said, interrupting my ruminating, "you haven't said much about what happened to Dr. Michaels. Why don't you tell me?"

I sat at the kitchen table as he poured both of us a glass of pinot grigio. "I thought you talked to Blue Eyes about it?"

"He told me, briefly, what happened – that Dr. Michaels had committed suicide. And he said you had been injured."

I touched my stitches reflexively. "He attacked me at the funeral home. I was in the hospital when Aaron killed himself. Blue Eyes, Greg, and my aunt's girlfriend, Dinah, were there."

"And they witnessed it?"

"Yes," I answered as I sipped my wine.

Jim continued chopping vegetables for a large salad. "How do you feel about his death? He is, after all, Zelda's father."

"No," I said. "Zelda has me. She doesn't need anyone else."

"House is rather attached to her."

"I don't know. Jim, do you think he'll be here tonight?"

"You miss him, don't you, Audra?"

"I know you've been married several times, but have you ever been head-over-heels in love?"

He stopped his dinner preparations and studied my face. "I thought so, at the time. Now, in retrospect, maybe not. Why do you ask?"

"I've never been in love before."

"But you are now?"

"I know you're Blue Eyes' best friend, but I'd prefer you not tell him. I'm not yet sure how to deal with my feelings for him. But, Jim, I really think I'm in love with him."

He returned to his salad. "You've been in love with him for a while now, Audra. That's no secret."

"Do you think Blue Eyes is aware of it?"

"I think he knows you're fond of him. I'm not sure he'd be comfortable knowing the depth of your emotions; in the past, fear of relationships has kept him from letting anyone get close."

"Except Stacy," I said.

"Yes," he agreed. "She has been the exception."

He brought the chicken, salad, and a basket of warm rolls to the table. We ate in silence.

Finally, Jim said, "Why don't you call House? Find out where he is. How close."

"You know I can't do that. But you could," I countered.

"Audra," he drawled, "I do not want to check up on House for you."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't really think you would. What's that song? 'The waiting is the hardest part?'"

He smiled. "That would be Tom Petty, I think."

We cleaned up the kitchen. Jim said, "I hope you didn't mind, but I moved my things into the upstairs bedroom." Mother's room. "I put all of Zelda's things in the extra downstairs room. The crib and all of its accoutrements."

"That was thoughtful of you. Do you mind being in Mother's old room?"

"Actually, I kind of like it. I miss her. I really developed a fondness for her while she was here."

I touched his arm. "You were so good to her, Jim. You really brightened up her last days."

"I don't know about that. She never understood how many people cared about her. She was an unhappy woman."

"Does she remind you of Blue Eyes in that way?" I asked.

He considered. "House certainly has his miserable side, but he's capable of astounding kindnesses. I've seen him go to great lengths for his patients."

"I guess I fall into that category."

"Initially, I'd agree. But there's more now. Have you looked around here? He has bits of his life scattered all over this townhouse. Sheet music for the piano. Favorite cds. Books he reads and rereads. And the place is littered with his clothes. He's slowly, sneakily, moving in."

Jim opened the cabinets and retrieved two very large brandy snifters and a bottle of Courvoisier. He poured us each generous portions. "Care to join me in the den?"

I followed dutifully.

We sat and sipped companionably. Finally, I asked, "Did Blue Eyes tell you about talking to Aaron before he committed suicide?"

"What are you asking me, Audra?"

"Oh, Jim. This is so difficult. My aunt's girlfriend, Dinah, said Blue Eyes convinced Aaron to commit suicide. She even went so far as to say he asked Aaron if he had a gun and then suggested he get it so he could 'do the right thing.' She placed Aaron's suicide squarely on Blue Eyes' shoulders." Unbidden, I began tearing up again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Audra, but this is the man who raped you, attacked you in the funeral home, and then threatened both your life and the life of your daughter?"

"You are, as always, correct, Jim."

He tipped his snifter back to get a taste. "And you object to, to what? To Aaron's suicide? I also seem to remember the man was actively hallucinating and psychotic at the time of his death?"

"Jim, I feel guilty."

"Because . . . "

"Because," I answered in a strong voice, "I wanted him dead. I wanted him to no longer be a threat to my life or to Zelda's. I'm happy if Blue Eyes was the reason I no longer have to fear that bastard."

"And you're guilty because . . ."

"Jim, I've never been the 'beloved daughter' of anyone. I've never been coddled or protected. But, if Blue Eyes put himself at risk to protect me and my daughter . . ."

"It all comes back to love, then."

I looked into his dark eyes. "Yes. Unfortunately, it does."

"So, House is not in disfavor because he may have instigated the demise of Michaels?"

"I know I haven't seen the therapist yet, and perhaps you can tell me if I'm ill beyond repair, but I wanted, dreamed, of his dying. Once I realized his identity, I lived in fear he'd learn about Zelda and try to take her. Do you have any idea the relief I felt when Blue Eyes listed himself as her father?"

"I can only imagine."

"When do you think he'll get here?" I asked again.

"Why don't you call him?"

"No," I stubbornly refused. "I'll wait."

The waiting went from one snifter of brandy to three. My eyes were closing, and I was listing heavily to the right side. "Jim, why don't you go on to bed? I'll wait up."

He checked his watch. "I don't want to leave you, Audra, but I do have a consultation in the morning. Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Of course. I'll put on some old movies and wait up."

Jim, reluctantly, went to bed. I slipped Bull Durham into the dvd player and watched, curled up on the end of the sofa. When that ended, I put on Four Weddings and a Funeral. Next, I watched The Queen. Bridget Jones' Diary was just ending as the first traces of dawn creeped over the horizon. My untouched bottle of Ambien stared me, defiantly, in the face. By the time the second Bridget Jones' Diary was ending, Jim was quietly fussing in the kitchen, making coffee.

"Where is he?" I demanded of the befuddled oncologist.

"Have you been up all night?"

"Did he call you?" I demanded. Sleep deprivation was not my friend.

"No, Audra. Maybe he stopped on the road and spent the night."

"Please, Jim, call him," I begged.

I imagine my distraught appearance is what finally swayed Jim. He went upstairs to place the call. His face was grim as he descended the stairs.

"Well?" I yelled.

"He got in late. He's at his apartment," Jim answered quietly.

I turned and walked into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

Jim, being the gentleman he was, knocked on my door. I refused to answer. Finally, violating even his own mores, he cracked the door.

"Audra?"

"Fuck off," I screamed as I washed my face in my adjoining bathroom.

Jim walked into the bedroom. "Audra, don't judge him by . . ."

He didn't get to finish because I stormed out of my bathroom, face scrubbed and hair pulled back in an unattractive scrunchy. "Don't judge him by what? Jim, he asked me night before last if I still loved him. But he didn't bother to come here when he got into town? With my damn car? Jim, you may love him as a friend and a colleague, but you've encouraged me to consider him as more than just my former doctor. So, how can you possibly justify his behavior last night?"

He looked abject. "I can't. But, as a favor, give me a chance to talk to him before you assault him. Please?"

I was without sleep and, frankly, caring little about anyone's feelings, not even Jim's. "You'd better get to him before I do, Jim, because he has a lot to answer for."

"I know, Audra," he placated.

I fled back into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I heard my bedroom door close just as I undressed and stepped into the spray. I was maddeningly offended Blue Eyes hadn't come straight to my townhouse, but, on consideration, was that just an assumption I had made based on our conversation – the conversation when he was drunk? I had betrayed, admitted, my own emotions; had I revealed too much of myself, endangering the delicate balance we had established? Had I chased him to his own abode in avoidance of me?

I was late for a lecture to an auditorium of history students where I would introduce them to the brilliant writing assistance we could provide them, so I hurried straight to Princeton without going by to see Zelda. I had three lectures to give that morning, in fact, so it was lunchtime when I finally made it to my office. Cindy had a tuna salad sandwich waiting for me.

"Cindy, you are so wonderful," I complimented as I tore into the food. "Anything going on here?"

"Troy is in the conference room tutoring one of the students you lectured this morning."

"Oh, score!" I cried with delight. "Anything else?"

"Dr. Jacobs wants to meet with you, so I scheduled him for Monday morning at eight. Is that all right?"

"Sure, Cindy. Did the good doctor say what was on his mind?"

Cindy shook her head and went back to her desk. I checked on the writing modules as I ate, updating a few and adding new reading selections to some. Overall, the online students appeared to be making progress.

Around two, the lack of sleep caught up with me, and I decided to run by the hospital and see Zelda before going home to collapse. I fed Zelda her bottle, searching for subtle changes in her face, anxiously attempting to divine any resemblance to Aaron. Her tiny fingers curled around my index finger; I wiggled the finger she clasped to see if she'd relent and let go, but she held on determinedly. She was going to be a stubborn little lady. Headstrong. I could see the signs.

When I finally returned my daughter to her crib, I headed for Jim's office. I wanted to clear the air. Jim was the last person I wanted to be arguing with. As I approached his office, the door cracked, I heard him talking. I stopped; I thought he was on the phone again. Of course, I listened, unseen, again.

"I don't understand what you were thinking. You had to have known she was waiting up for you," Wilson scolded.

I assumed he was on the phone with Blue Eyes; however, I was shocked when I heard a responding voice.

"Wilson, remember when, after the infarction, they wanted to amputate my leg? Even Stacy was trying to convince me to let them remove it. She asked me if I would give my leg to save her life," Blue Eyes told Jim with obvious emotion.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that, of course, I would gladly give my leg for her. But later, when we hooked up during her marriage, Mark came to me and begged me to let her go. He pulled himself out of his wheelchair, undoing countless hours of agonizing physical therapy, just to prostrate himself before me. That's why I told Stacy to stay with Mark."

"You're not making sense, House. What do the two . . ."

Blue Eyes interrupted heatedly, "Don't you see? Mark was willing to risk harm to himself, not to mention humiliating himself, to try to keep Stacy. I would never have done what Mark did, and I realized I had lied when I had told Stacy I would give up my leg to save her life; I never would have."

"Okay. So, you don't have it in you to sacrifice yourself physically for someone. I don't see what this has to do with Audra at all," Jim said.

"Because, when I saw Michaels, knowing he had sent Audra to the hospital for the second time, and heard him threatening further harm to both her and Zelda, I knew I would kill him with my bare hands if I needed to. I was willing to do anything, anything, to make sure he could never get near either of them again. Sure, I manipulated him, but I did it knowing it could backfire and take me down, too. I didn't care about my life; I only cared about theirs."

I heard Jim expel a deep breath. "You love her. And now you're scared."

"Don't be stupid. I'm not scared. But I don't like the way I'm feeling. That's why I called Stacy."

I leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.

"You did what?" Jim exclaimed.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a wad. She and Mark have signed their divorce papers, so she's a free agent now."

"House, you're missing the point. You just admitted deep feelings for Audra, but you're going to date your ex-girlfriend? Are you suicidal? Insane?" Jim yelled.

"I was in love with Stacy, and you know how badly that turned out. Why would I continue in a relationship with someone who has even more power over me than Stacy had? I don't need to open myself up to more hurt."

"Oh, fuck," I thought.

"So, you're going to alienate Audra just because you're afraid she might, what, return your feelings?" Jim asked. He sounded irritated. "You're going to run away from something good – a chance to have a relationship even better than the one with Stacy. You make no sense."

"Audra doesn't have to know I'm seeing Stacy," Blue Eyes suggested.

"If you're hinting I lie to her . . ."

"I'm not hinting anything. I just don't see that you need to run back to her tattling. You need to mind your own business."

"House, Audra is my friend, too. I don't want her to be hurt because you're behaving like an ass."

"Then be a tattle tale."

"That's precisely what you want me to do, isn't it?" Wilson accused. "You want me to tell Audra you're seeing Stacy so she'll back away from you. You're too fucking cowardly to do it yourself."

I turned away from the office door and walked, slowly, to my truck. I needed to get home. Of course, when I pulled up to the townhouse, I saw Mother's convertible parked on the curb out front. I hurried to my bedroom, washed down a couple of the Klonopin Dr. Castillo had prescribed for me, and curled up in my bed, alone, praying for sleep. Praying for salvation.