Over the Moon

Greg entered the apartment shortly before 7 p.m. bearing dessert from my favorite bakery, La Marquis, on Nassau Street. I looked up from the stove where I was putting the finishing touches on our dinner and gave him a big cheesy smile. He placed the bag containing the small white cake box on the counter and then planted a kiss on the back of my neck as he reached around me for a piece of the roast I had just finished slicing.

"Ouch...cripple abuse," he whined as I smacked the back of his hand.

"You big baby!" I immediately cringed inwardly at my choice of words.

I turned in his arms and gave him a quick kiss while trying to shove him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Why don't you go take a quick shower and I'll finish setting the table, so we can have dinner in a few?"

"Are you sure there's no appetizer on tonight's menu?" he whispered in my ear before kissing that spot right below my earlobe that he knew made me lose all common sense.

My brain was beginning to float in a cloud of lust, making it hard for me to maintain the control I would need to deliver my news to him. I thought telling him over a dessert of rich chocolate cake and French Vanilla ice cream would help the news go down a little better. Spoonful of sugar and all that rubbish.

"Unh-uh," I managed to squeak out as I untangled myself from his long arms. "And besides, you stink," I said wrinkling my nose and physically turning him around to once again send him to the showers.

He raised his right arm and took a deep whiff. "OK, so I'm a little ripe after dealing with my patient practically non-stop for a day and a half. I thought you liked my manly scent?" he laughed trying to stick my nose even deeper under his arm.

"Your scent, sweetheart, not your funk. Now git!" I laughed as I grabbed his ass with both hands and pushed again.

"Ok, ok, I'm going. Must want me to smell like Wilson or something," he mumbled as he went into the bedroom. A few minutes later I heard the shower going and knew that the evening I had planned was back on track.

I set the table with our nice plates, glassware and silverware, then lit a few candles and placed them around the room, admiring the flickering glow. I had lit the fireplace earlier, so the room already had a warm toasty glow and feel to it.

The shower was still going as I went back into the kitchen and transferred the rest of the food to the nice serving platters and carried it back into the dining area. I took the cake from La Marquis out of its little white box and placed it on a glass cake plate, licking the excess chocolate icing from my fingers.

Greg walked back into the room at that moment, towel drying his hair and wearing only clean jeans and a vintage black t-shirt. Damn he was sexy.

"Let me do that," he said as he brought my hand slowly to his mouth and sucked the last of the chocolate frosting from my index finger.

Under normal circumstances, I loved being on the receiving end of Greg's extreme horniness following his successful solving of a case. Lord knows I was tempted to jump him right there in the kitchen, dinner be damned, but it had taken me all day to build up my courage, so I had to remain a woman on a mission. I knew if we made love before I gave him this news, he would just accuse me of pulling all sorts of dirty tricks. Trust, as I had long ago found out, was not one of Greg's strong suits.

"You do that SO well," I sighed, retrieving my index finger from his mouth and my right boob from his left hand. Grabbing the cake plate with both hands, I made my escape into the living room where I placed the cake on the coffee table for after dinner. When I turned around, Greg had already taken his place at the table, ready to dig in.

I could tell he was a little disappointed that I wasn't fully responding to his little before dinner distractions, but I had to stick to my agenda or I would certainly lose my nerve.

"One last thing to get and then we can eat," I said over my shoulder as I walked back into the kitchen.

It was enough that I already felt terrible for using this dinner as bait, I didn't want to feel like I was adding sex to the tender trap, too. But, I also couldn't see just blurting this out over coffee in the morning or over the phone between his diagnoses. I could just see it now:

Greg: "Thirteen, stop mooning over Foreman and go run the blood tests."

13: "I don't moon."

Greg: "Sorry to hear that." (Simultaneous eye rolls from Taub and Foreman.)

Ring, ring.

Jillian: "Greg, it's me."

Greg: "Which me? I know a lot of me's."

Jillian: "The me that's pregnant with your child. Congratulations, you're going to be a daddy!"

Thud.

Foreman,Taub & 13: "House?! House?!"

Of course, this was only in my head, since I had made many a romantic dinner for Greg since we'd been together. There was no reason for him to feel like this evening was any different. He would just assume I was a little more tired from cooking all afternoon and that I might need just a little more motivation. And, if there's one thing Greg was good at, it was "motivating" me.

Greg's voice cut through my fog. "Jillian, could you bring me a beer when you come back in–hopefully sometime before my next birthday?"

"Sorry, babe," I said, re-entering the room and placing a beer in front of him and a glass of water in front of my place. I did not fail to miss Greg's inquisitive blue eyes taking in my drink choice.

"Thirsty," I said like the perfect little liar I was becoming. He looked at me, saying nothing and began digging into the roast and potatoes. I silently exhaled, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. I was in the clear for the moment–or so I thought.

"This is delicious," he said around a mouthful of roast.

"Greg! Swallow first, then talk," I reprimanded.

"Yes, mom," he said in a measured voice.

Mom, I thought to myself. Interesting word choice, my friend. Touche.

I guess I had zoned out again because the next thing I knew he was snapping his fingers in front of my face.

"Jillian! What the hell is going on?" he asked as he took a long pull of his beer and set it down carefully on the table. "You haven't been yourself all evening. Is there something you want to tell me?" He took a deep breath and continued, "Like why are you plying me with roast and chocolate cake on a Wednesday night? Why are you having water instead of your usual Sam Adams or glass of wine? Or, why are your boobs suddenly a half cup-size bigger?"

I dared to look up into his intense blue stare, but only for a moment, afraid he'd burn a hole clean through to my frenzied brain. Ladies and Gentlemen: Gregory House–The Amazing Human Lie Dectector.

I had no choice but to answer him. "Greg, I'm pregnant."

*******************

I feared for the life of our wood dining table as I watched him grip the edge tightly, as he rose from the table and began pacing furiously, scraping his hand across his stubble. He said nothing for a few moments and then turned to face me, blue eyes on fire.

"Jillian, how many times have we discussed this?! What the f*ck are you thinking?! Oh...on second thought, you apparently aren't thinking!" He continued pacing for a few more steps and then came back to stand directly in front of me, chest heaving, eyes blazing.

"Are you absolutely sure you're pregnant?!" I could see the look of betrayal in his eyes and hear the rising panic in his voice. I had never felt so horrible in my life. How could I do this to him?

"I took a pregnancy test this morning and it was positive," I said quietly.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, desperately hanging on to that .1% chance that the kit was somehow wrong.

"Get your coat...now! he growled. We're going to the hospital to do a real pregnancy test. Then we'll figure out how to fix this."

"Greg, I am not going to the hospital at 8 o'clock at night because you're freaking out! Believe me, I know my body and I...am...pregnant," I said, suddenly getting angry. "And there is no 'fixing' this," I said, waving a hand back and forth between the two of us. "I'm pregnant and I'm having this baby with or without you!"

"So, you've just been lying to me for the past year?! Hoping to get pregnant when you damn well how I feel about having kids?!"

I was sure our ever-rising voices would bring the neighbors over any minute. In the midst of our arguing I suddenly realized we had become "those neighbors."

"You know, Greg, I didn't make this baby by myself! Let me refresh your memory! Remember the night of Foreman and 13's engagement party when you were too drunk to drive, but apparently not too drunk to screw?" He leveled his icy blue stare at me, daring me to continue.

"We were barely inside the door. You were in such an all fire hurry, you lifted my skirt, tore off my panties and took me right then and there? I could tell it was all coming back to him and he now looked at me like I was Bitch of the Century.

My temper was now in full flame. I knew it was wrong, but I continued mockingly in a deep, slurring male voice, "'Jilly Bean, if I don't f*ck you right here, right now I'm gonna die! That tight ass of yours has been driving me crazy all night!'" I said, throwing his very words from that night right back in his face.

He continued to look at me, waves of betrayal pouring out of him. I felt incredibly guilty, but we were both way past the point of no return.

"Even with my medical issues, Greg, you know I've been nothing but careful...always!" I spat.

"Well, apparently not careful enough!"

"Don't you dare try to blame this on me!" I growled.

"Well don't try to make me father to a child I didn't ask for...or want!"

"You take that back!" I screamed, "Take it back!"

"Nope," he said with almost sadistic glee, knowing he had deeply hurt my feelings.

Without thinking, I reached for my plate of half-eaten food and hurled it in his direction. For a man with limited mobility, he managed to duck pretty damn quick, just in time for the plate to smash against the far wall, leaving a colorful kaleidoscope of food art in its wake.

"You're a goddamn crazy woman!" he shouted as he headed for the bedroom. I took two deep breaths, trying desperately to calm my racing heart. I waited to hear the bedroom door slam, but he was back in just a few minutes, dressed in his peacoat, scarf and newsboy cap. Grabbing his car keys off the little side table, he flung the front door open and growled over his shoulder, "Don't wait up!" The slamming door rattled the windows, the guitars and the artwork on the walls.

I put my hand on my tummy and whispered to the baby that I was pretty sure we had all but guaranteed would be in therapy by the time he or she was in kindergarten, "Well, little one, that went pretty much as we expected." I then balled myself up on the sofa and cried until I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion."

tbc