Chapter Thirty-three: Just When You Thought it Was Safe to Come Out of the Bedroom

"Get up," I hissed. "Jim is probably permanently impotent after seeing you naked."

"I can believe seeing me naked made him go blind, but I'll be damned if I believe it could make little Jimmy go into early retirement."

"That's not what I meant, you showoff. Blue Eyes, do you think we could please get off the floor and go to bed, please?"

He sat back on his heels and painfully pulled himself back onto the sofa. He looked around for his jeans, finally spying them on the coffee table. I saw him reaching for them, so I grabbed them. He pulled his meds out of the pocket and swallowed two pills. I sat to his right, my hand massaging his thigh. "Would a heating pad help?" I asked.

"I'm fine. Really."

I disagreed, "You're so full of shit. Did Succubus buy that crap?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. She thought I blamed her."

"Didn't you?"

He paused before answering, "Yeah. I didn't want to, but I did."

"So, your meeting with her the other night was, why? For what?"

He looked over my head at the remains of the mirror as he answered, slowly and carefully, "I know what to expect from her. I know what she expects from me. I thought it would be, I don't know – safe."

"Being with me doesn't feel safe for you, but being with you doesn't feel safe for me, either. I'm probably every bit as frightened as you are."

"Ya think?" he asked, looking down into my eyes. "You're cold." He pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around me, leaving his arm encircling my back as he cradled my head on his shoulder.

I nodded. "If I hadn't interrupted, would you have slept with her?"

"I can't answer that. Most likely. I don't know. You've been like a rock in my shoe since you puked on me in the clinic."

"I'm like a rock in your shoe? You mean like, 'The Princess and the Pea'?" I asked.

He smiled wanly. "You're not a pea; you're not even a fucking pebble. I can't get you out of my mind. Just when I find a comfortable place, you find a way to irritate me, or to do something I don't know how to handle. You're always there, rubbing a sore spot on my foot."

"Well, bless your heart."

"What does that mean?" he asked skeptically.

I answered, "It's a southern expression that can mean anything from, 'I'm so sorry for you,' to, 'There is nothing else I can say that wouldn't be offensive.'"

"And in this instance?"

"It means, 'Fucking adjust.'"

"You know it turns me on when you order me around," he leered.

I relaxed and laid my arm across his stomach. "Everything turns you on."

"Yeah. I would've thought I'd miss your big girl panties, but that no panty thing is way hotter."

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied sarcastically.

"Aw, Mama Audra," he whined, "don't you want to play anymore?"

"Not in this den, I don't."

He pulled me up with him and said, "Let's retire to the bedroom. Should we check on Wilson?"

"Not funny, Blue Eyes."

I woke after a few hours of sleep; Blue Eyes was lying quietly beside me, but he wasn't humming. I whispered, "You're awake?"

"Are you going to New York with that guy?"

I rolled over to look at him. The nightlight in the bathroom provided just enough illumination to reveal the outline and the angles of his long, slender face. "That is keeping you awake?"

"No. But I was wondering about it."

"You don't trust me," I accused as I ran my finger along the inside of his bicep. He shifted to wrap that arm around me, and I rubbed my face against his shoulder.

"I don't trust him, and you shouldn't, either."

"Actually, I don't. Why don't you want me to go with him?"

He snorted. "Come on, Tiger, don't be stupid."

"I already told him I would. That play is important to my research – I might never have an opportunity like this again."

"Bullshit."

I leaned up on my elbow, and he gazed into my eyes. I said, "You can't say you wouldn't have slept with Stacy, but, yet, you want to keep me tethered to your belt buckle. In what universe does this make sense?"

"The Universe of House."

His hand nudged my head down, and he kissed me. I sighed and reveled in the leisurely attention, but I didn't know, then, what I would do about New York.

We both gave up on sleep as soon as the first shafts of sunlight crawled beneath the curtains and infiltrated the room. I put on coffee and sliced sourdough bread for French toast while Blue Eyes showered. Jim, sheepishly, wandered in wearing a thick bathrobe.

"Am I intruding?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "Of course not. Jim, about last night . . ."

He held up his hand. "Stop. Let's just pretend I never saw, well, anything," he grimaced.

"I'm making French toast, and the coffee is ready. Help yourself."

Jim nodded and poured us both a cup of coffee. "I assume that's . . ." he jerked his thumb towards the bathroom and the shower noises.

"Uh huh. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Not if we can confine our, well, activities to rooms with closed doors. If House is going to be here full-time, then perhaps it's time I moved back into the hotel."

I exclaimed, "No, Jim. I'm being selfish, but I'd rather you not leave unless you just feel things are too miserable for you. As for Blue Eyes, I have no reason to think this is anything but a hit-and-run – no different than before."

"Well, the two of you certainly looked compatible last night."

"I need some advice. You game?" I asked him.

He chose my seat at the table while, uncharacteristically, I cooked. "I'll give it a shot."

"He doesn't want me to go to New York. Should I?"

He sipped his coffee and thought before he answered, "As we've discussed before, a lot depends on the 'why.' I mean, is it worth losing whatever progress you two made last night?" He held out his hands, palms up. "Is seeing this play so important you'd take a chance on alienating him?"

"She might as well go. Odds are she'll alienate me eventually anyway," Blue Eyes said as he limped up behind me.

I whirled around and asked, "How can anyone with a damn cane be so damned quiet?"

"Years of practice," he responded as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took it to the table.

I stared, pleadingly, at Jim, but he just shrugged.

"So, how was your date last night?" Blue Eyes asked him.

"Fine. Just fine."

B.E. trained his attention on Jim with a curious ferocity. He interrogated, "Who was she? And, did you get any?"

I slammed the frying pan on the burner. "Stop gloating. Leave him alone."

"Mama Audra is being very protective of little Jimmy. Wonder why?"

Jim stuttered, "I didn't have a date. I had dinner with Cameron. Okay?"

B.E. turned his examining face to me. "And did Mama Audra know?"

"Of course not," I snapped.

"No," Jim cried. "She didn't. She didn't know, House."

I turned towards Blue Eyes, waving the pan in my hand, advancing slowly. "Do you think everyone is conspiring against you? Are you really that pathetically paranoid? Or are you just that narcissistic? My god in heaven, you really take the cake, puddin'." I stopped at the edge of the table; I was, unthinkingly, holding the hot skillet in front of them. Jim scooted back, but B.E. just returned my stare.

"My, Wilson," he drawled while maintaining my gaze, "Miss Jeffrey certainly is angry about something. Think she's jealous of Cameron?"

I screamed, "You are fucking insane!" and hurried into my bedroom, slinging the pan on the stove as I passed by.

I had started to change clothes so I could go to the hospital, but I couldn't rid myself of my anger at Blue Eyes. I strode back down the hall, intending to yell at him some more, when I heard their voices in the kitchen. I assumed my accustomed eavesdropping stance, back against the hallway, and listened.

"Those tickets will cost a fortune, House. You'll have to call a scalper," Jim said.

"Why is she so hot to see something about Europa? Can't I just rent it from Netflix?"

"She writes literary articles about plays and their playwrights. And it's Coast of Utopia – you might need to know that when you call your scalper."

"I don't suppose it has a traveling version?" Blue Eyes asked hopefully.

"House. You'll need to take her out to eat afterwards, to an elegant restaurant. And get reservations at a nice hotel. Here, take this plate."

They were moving to the eating area, so I scurried back to my bedroom. Surely Blue Eyes wasn't going to try to compete with David?

I escaped without either male noticing my exit. I went to the university first. I called my father; I had been meaning to check up on him.

"How are you, Daddy?"

He chuckled. "I am being bombarded with casseroles and cakes and concert tickets. Am I the only single man in northern Alabama?"

"Maybe you're just the best looking."

"I'm committed to seeing every community theater production in a hundred mile radius for the next six months. You won't believe what your Uncle Raymond did to me yesterday."

"I can't begin to imagine," I replied, smiling.

Daddy continued excitedly, "He set me up on this blind date, your mother just recently deceased, and this, this, woman insisted we go see a local production of the musical, Oliver. We get there, and it turns out it's a children's theater production. A bunch of third and fourth grade kids, with the odd adult thrown in, trying to sing. No microphones. It was agonizing. I paid five bucks for two cups of unbuttered and unsalted popcorn and a bottle of tepid water. And there were kids running all over the place."

"Imagine that," I commented. "Children at a children's theater production. How inappropriate."

"And, as you can guess, there was a squalling baby right behind us. Oh, and the woman Raymond fixed me up with was at least eighty and barely seventy pounds. She was absolutely fragile. And partially deaf. I don't think she heard a word those kids sang."

"So, I gather you're handling the single life just fine."

He paused. "It's all just an attempt to stay busy, Audra. If I can spend my time swatting the butts of undisciplined children, it's that much time I'm not missing your mother." His voice betrayed the sadness he was battling.

"Why don't you take some time off and come up here? I'm sure I can find you some skinny old women to date."

"Thanks, Audra, but I have no doubt you have your hands full with your daughter and your job. I assume you're still with your Dr. House."

I corrected him, "He was never my Dr. House, Daddy."

"Trouble in Princeton?" he asked.

"Nothing new."

"Honey, are you okay about Dr. Michaels?"

I couldn't answer promptly. Finally, I said, "I'll never be okay about Aaron, Daddy. But I'm very grateful my Dr. House, Greg, and Dinah were there to protect me. They really did, you know."

He answered, "Yeah. Dinah is really quiet on the subject. Makes me wonder sometimes."

"What are you wondering, Daddy?"

I heard him sigh. "I wonder what I could have done to have prevented that whole fiasco. I never realized you were at risk."

"Nor did I, Daddy," I answered, tearfully.

He cleared his throat and said, " Audra, if you need anything for you or Zelda, please let me help you."

I was silenced by the magnanimity of his statement. "Thank you," was all I could articulate.

"Greg has mentioned he wants to be up there when Zelda comes home from the hospital. I don't know if you've spoken with him?"

"No, Daddy, I haven't. Thank you for telling me. And, should you find one of these women to your liking, it's okay," I closed.

"Call your brother," was his last remark.

Greg answered with his characteristic joviality. "Cissy, 'bout time I heard from you. How's the mini-you?"

"Zelda's doing well. Up to four pounds now. Daddy says you want to be here when she's released?

"I do. Is there a target date?"

I laughed, "End of the month if nothing goes wrong. I'd love to see you, Greg."

"I've been working so damned much lately, I haven't had time to catch my breath, although I had a call from Allison. I gather she resigned from the hospital. How is House handling that?"

"You know him – he'd never admit anything gave him a moment's pause, but . . ."

"And on the romance front? You two still hooking up?"

"Greg," I scolded, "Blue Eyes has plenty of things to occupy his time without wasting his energy on me."

"Damn, Cissy, you two are so frustrating. I really just want to hit you both over the heads with a big club, then throw you into a pit where you have to stay until you either kill each other or fuck like loons."

"We'd do one and then the other," I answered. "I'll leave it to your imagination which we'd do first."

Greg laughed. "You are too funny. Why do I love you so much?

"Because I love you so much."

We said our farewells and agreed he'd come to Princeton when Zelda was coming home for the first time. The very notion, and the closeness of its reality, made me lightheaded. I sat, staring at the telephone in my office, and pondered the upcoming play and my attendance. I still had no answers. I felt the frustration and anger of the morning bubbling beneath the surface.

I had been responsible for raising Greg from the time of his birth when I was fifteen. My absent, alcoholic mother and my disinterested father had allowed, even demanded, I assume the care of a child who, in time, became a full-time job as I struggled to have his unknowable condition diagnosed while, simultaneously, providing him all the opportunities for self-expression available in a small, southern town. And I had been caretaking someone nonstop since Greg's birth; from championing Greg, to serving as a society lawyer's wife, to housing my dying mother, I had always, always been solitarily busy providing emotional and physical support for others. And now I had Zelda to fight for.

Why had I been so angry at Blue Eyes' suggestion I might be jealous of Jim's evening with Allison? I had grown tired of people's presuppositions about me and my motives; surely, of all those who knew me, Blue Eyes was the one who had reason to trust me and to give me the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that's all I wanted back then as well as now: the benefit of the doubt. Someone to have enough faith in me to accept me unquestioned. The only times, as a teenager, I could get Mother's or Daddy's attention was when I did something they found unladylike, such as yelling or throwing objects. I had refined my outbursts to gain the most reaction from the least expenditure of energy. Unfortunately, I was continuing that same behavior with a different cast of characters. Perhaps Blue Eyes deserved the benefit of my doubt.