Chapter 20

Running On Empty

As I took the stairs down to my loft, I replayed the evening in my mind. We didn't miss a beat; the conversation was great, the music and food wonderful. If it had been a date I know I would have received a second call. As high as I was while coming down to my loft, the deeper I crashed when I climbed in bed. This would go nowhere, could go nowhere. I had just spent the best night I'd had in Princeton with my best friend's boyfriend. This sucked.

I got up the next morning, hydrated and then put on my workout clothes before climbing the stairs and knocking on the door. True to his word, Greg answered scratching his genitals in his boxers and complaining of how early it was.

"Christ, I only get up this early on a Saturday for a patient or to have sex. Are you here to have sex?"

"Get dressed, we're going rowing."

"It's chilly out there…it has to be forty degrees out there."

"You'll warm up quickly. First we'll row for some cardio and then I want to work on your leg."

"I'm going back to bed. I'll see you in a few hours."

I jumped between him and the door to the bedroom. "No! You promised me!"

He scrunched his face and looked at me with one eye. "Why don't we just have marathon sex for our aerobics?"

"Get dressed, we're going rowing."

"You're no fun."

House took his time changing and then grabbed a water bottle before descending down into the garage. We drove to the lake and rented a skull. Out on the water, I realized quickly that Greg's stroke was much longer and stronger than mine, meaning I had to paddle twice as hard to keep up with him.

"Greg, slow down a little so that I can speed up and we can get in sync."

"You're about as coordinated as Wilson on a bender. Come on, move those stumps you call arms."

"I'm trying!"

We finally coordinated our stroke and found ourselves gliding effortlessly down the lake. By the time we were at the other end of the lake, we were both huffing and puffing. Stopping, we grabbed our water bottles and knocked back a good long drink.

"You're good at this." I mentioned as my chest heaved up and down.

"I used to row in University."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I was good, helped win a few medals. One was here on Lake Carnegie."

"I'm shocked! I just never thought of you playing a team sport!"

"Just two to a boat, but we were good. Louis Madera and I were a real team."

"Now that you mention it, I can see you as being very competitive in your own House-like way."

"What about you? Any sports?"

"I always did sports to get healthy, never did any team sports in school. I hated jocks."

"So you wouldn't have worn my Letter Jacket if I had given it to you in high school?"

"No, because I would have been six and it would have been a little creepy."

He actually let out a little laugh and then drank some more water. We sat, getting our second wind and watching the first of the ducks to migrate back for the early spring.

"I bet you miss Susan."

"It's only been a few days. She's having a blast, called me last night just to tell me that she and Wilson had spent the entire night at some big party. She's leading my homie astray."

I smiled. "She has that effect. Ready for the ride back?"

He sneered, but nodded at the same time. We got back just before our hour was up and then drove him over to PPTH where we went to the therapy room. Together we worked on a nautilus routine that was guaranteed to improve the strength in his leg.

"You really think I'm going to do this every day?"

"No, but four times a week?"

He winced. "I don't have a good track record for exercises."

"What if we do them together in the beginning?"

He laughed. "You want to be Pump Buddies?"

"Pump buddies?"

"I want to pump you up!"

"Oh. Sure, I'll be your pump buddy, but you have to promise to be prompt to pump." I giggled.

"Noon, Mon, Wed, Thurs."

"We can use the row machine during the week and row on the lake Saturdays."

"Only if you promise to make it eight."

"How about seven-thirty?"

"Okay, we'll try it."

We went back to the loft and he went to the penthouse while I went to my apartment, it was eleven in the morning and I had the rest of the day to myself. It was a real downer that the best part of my Saturday was over by eleven. I did laundry, cleaned a little and then played Mafia Wars on Facebook. When I was done leveling up on Cuba I signed off and looked out the large French doors leading onto my rather skimpy balcony. The sky was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain like hell. I sat back down and stared out into space, wondering what he was doing.

Around four I called the penthouse to see if he wanted me to make him dinner, but no one answered. At five I caught a few episodes of the Law and Order marathon. Around seven I got dressed and decided to go to the mall and grab a meal before going to a movie. I took my Land's End windbreaker and an umbrella because it was coming down hard outside. I was a little sore from our workout so I decided to take the elevator. Hitting the button, the car came from the third floor rather than the ground. Opening up, I was a little surprised to see Greg and Chase inside.

"Gentlemen?"

Chase leaned forward and gave me a little peck on the cheek as I entered the elevator car. "How are you, Finley?"

"Good, fine. What are you two up to?"

House looked up at the numbers as the floors flew by to the garage.

Chase responded when he realized that Greg wasn't going to, "We're going out to have a light dinner and then to hear some music. What are you up to?"

"I'm going to grab something to eat."

Chase spoke right up. "Why don't you join us? We're going to go to Triumph to hear that new jazz-rap band after we get something to eat at Mezzlaluna."

I looked at House and he didn't look too excited about me joining them. It made sense, Triumph was a meat market on Saturday and Chase was young, good looking and likely to make the evening interesting for House. Between the two of them, I doubted they'd be lonely.

"Greg? Are you sure? You don't look too happy about this."

"It's Saturday night; I was hoping to have a drink with my homie, but he seems to think you might need some company."

"Oh." I was crushed. He clearly thought of me as extra weight. Rustling up a yawn and a smile, I told Chase, "You know, I'm really tired tonight, but thank you. I appreciate the thought. I think I'll just stick with the plan." The door opened and I started walking towards my car and realized we were all walking in the same direction. I noticed that Chase's car was about two spaces down from mine.

Chase gave House a dirty look to let him know that he knew I was backing out because of his comment. "We'd really like you to join us."

"Thanks. You guys go and have some fun." I knew that if I kept talking, my voice my break. I kept my head down and fumbled with my keys. So much for me thinking he enjoyed my company.

I sat in my car as they drove by. Chase waved at me and I gave a wave and a smile back. After I saw the last of his taillights, I got back out and went upstairs to the loft; I wasn't feeling very hungry. I didn't see Greg until Monday at noon when we met at the smaller of the five fitness/therapy rooms at the hospital. We were the only two in the room.

Together we worked out both on the Nautilus and with free weights after doing twenty minutes of cardio on the rowing machine. There was so much teasing between us that my side hurt from laughing so hard. He made faces, commented on my large (not really) ass and made up stories about me and my secret life outside the hospital. Afterwards we went to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch, which turned out to be not so quick. Sitting in the booth we talked medicine, religion, whiskey and whatever came to mind. I received a page reminding me that I was late for my next appointment.

That night I made him come down to my loft where we made a grilled chicken salad with balsamic vinegar dressing and a glass of red wine. He wanted a beer, but I put my foot down, reminding him his heart was a mess and he needed to start taking his health seriously. He begrudgingly accepted the red wine I offered, but commented that my wine reserve was nothing like the one he was used to upstairs.

Over the next week, we cooked together, dicing, chopping, mincing, stirring, sautéing. He was the better cook, but lazy. I did most of the cooking, but he'd taste it and add a pinch of this, a tablespoon of that, a dash of whatever and the meal was enhanced immensely.

"You make me look bad with your ability to transform the bland into the sublime."

"Well, every magician needs their blonde assistant."

Whenever we were alone, we seemed to get along great, but whenever someone saw us together or tried to join us in the fitness rooms, House would become cold, distant, insulting. I realized that I must embarrass him for some reason.

After spending four out of six days working out and eating together, I woke him the next morning at seven-thirty and we went for our row on Lake Carnegie, more in tuned with each other's strokes and power than the week before. When we got to the south end of the lake, we sat back and relaxed.

He stared at me for a minute and then asked, "What's missing?"

"Huh?"

"What's missing from your life?"

I blushed. "What makes you think something's missing?"

"Susan mentioned that you might leave at the end of your contract."

"Oh! I just miss my friends, California, the things I'm used to doing."

"This guy who dumped you in L.A., how did he manage to hurt you so badly?"

I drank some water and looked around, not sure I wanted to share with him something so painful, so intimate. "It wasn't that he had the affair or even that he left me for the bimbo; it was that he told me that he never wanted to have children—ever. Our relationship was over, he left me when she got pregnant, married her…" I stopped, choked up over the humiliation and disappointment.

"He gave her what you always wanted."

I nodded. "Well, we should get back."

"You want kids?"

"Yep, I want at least one, maybe two."

"You're biological clock has struck 11:55 pm , you better find someone soon."

I snorted. "I won't find him here, that's for sure."

"You don't exactly put yourself out there, do you?"

"I'm a surgeon; it's hard. I don't know anyone in Princeton…except for Suz. She and I were supposed to…"

"You thought you'd come here and the two of you would go out, find twins, bring them home, marry them, have babies."

"I didn't expect her to be seriously dating someone within a month of me arriving."

"So you're running?"

"Come on, get your blade and let's get rowing."

"So you're running?"

"I'll have a better chance of finding someone in Los Angeles where I know where to look."

"You won't find anyone sitting at home watching television or going to the movies by yourself."

"Thanks…I'll remember that. Now do you mind giving me a hand?"

We rowed back and drove over to PPTH where there was a lot of joking, a few snaps of towels, lots of laughing and total exhaustion after our workout. It wasn't easy. I had become totally enamored with the smell of him and the sight of sweat rolling off his brow and neck. We were just about to go to the locker rooms when he pulled his shirt off exposing his chest and muscles on his arms. Rivulets of sweat were running down from his neck across the chest. He threw his shirt into my face with a laugh. I knocked it off and smiled. The rivulet had made it down his chest and just past his belly button; the sight of the little patch of hair running down from his belly button to below the elastic in his shorts was so suggestive, I felt a tingling in my groin. He caught my eye and looked down at his abdomen.

"Are you lusting after my body?"

"No, I was just watching the sweat roll off. Come on, time to get cleaned up."

He followed me out of the room. "So, what have you got planned for the rest of the day?"

"Laundry, cleaning, Star Trek marathon."

"You see, there's a jazz festival, a new opening at the art museum, even a mixer tonight for doctors at the Jewish League Center. All places for you to cruise and meet a man, but you choose to stay home."

"I don't really like the idea of going alone."

"Fine, pick one and I'll go with you."

"Yeah, it doesn't work that way. If I go with a straight man, no one will approach me."

"Trust me. I'm your wingman."

"I can't see you being anything but the hot shot pilot."

"Get dressed and pick your poison."

"You mean, pick an event?"

He nodded.

"The art museum."

Rolling his eyes, he yawned. "Only gay guys go single to an art museum opening. No, pick the mixer or the jazz festival."

"The mixer."

"Well, wear something that shows those breasts off and cinches in at the waist. Men are drawn to the waist/hip ratio."

"Oh, Lord."

I went to my bedroom and started dressing, putting on a long-sleeved shirt dress that clung to my curves and came down in a deep v, giving all men the eyeful of breast Greg wanted revealed. I put on my strappy shoes, makeup and walked out, twirling in front of him, hoping for some crumb of admiration.

He shrugged. "I guess it will do. Let's go."

He drove to the Jewish Center and parked in the handicap slots and made his way to the door while I stood and pulled and pushed my wardrobe until I was feeling comfortable. We walked inside and registered, putting on our sticky name tags with just our first names. Greg surveyed the scene. There were a dozen tables with chairs and white tablecloths. Against one wall were the snacks and on the other was an open bar. Music played over a sound system and several groups of singles huddled around tables and in groups along the walls. House pulled me by the elbow to one side of the large room where a small group of men were standing around some appetizers.

Greg walked up, grabbed a frappe and stabbed it in his mouth, then shook his head talking loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. "Can you believe this? My sister made me come because she was worried." I was standing on the other side of the table. Greg was turned facing me and the men were all facing outward, their backs to me.

One of the guys took a big swig. "You came with your sister? Boy she must be rough if she needs a guy to take her to a singles mixer."

"Yeah, well she's just shy."

One of them motioned to Greg. "Which one is she?"

"Behind you."

They all turned to look at me like I was the bearded lady. I blushed six shades of red, but then they all straightened up and stopped gawking.

"Hi." The good looking fortyish one said.

"Hi." I managed to eek out.

"I'm Roy MacGregor." He reached across the table and shook my hand.

"Finely Doyle."

Another one shoved his hand out, "Taylor Manningville at your service." Taylor was young, dirty blonde, too good looking and obviously very cocky.

The others followed suit until all four had walked around the table and were talking to me. Greg continued to eat and drink until I was well ensconced in conversation with Roy. House walked over to me and whispered in my ear. "He's the best suited for you." Pulling back he announced, "I'm going home. You find your own way."

"Greg! You can't leave me—"

"I'll make sure you get home." Roy offered.

Again I blushed.

"See I knew chivalry wasn't dead. Now make sure you wear protection." Greg said as he sauntered off.

"Greg!" I was mortified, but not surprised.

He grinned and continued walking as I watched, broken hearted that he was able to pawn me off on some stranger. I turned back to Roy. "You have my number so feel free to call. I'm going to go home."

"I'll give you a ride."

"No, I'll catch up to Greg."

He shrugged. "Your brother said you were shy."

"I'm not usually, I just feel awkward. I'll talk to you later." With that I took off. I didn't know if Roy would call or not after such an abrupt departure, but it didn't matter right then. I just wanted to get out of there in case I started to cry.

Running out the door, I saw he was getting into the car. I stormed past him and out to the street, walking as fast as I could. I didn't want Greg seeing my tears. They were dry by the time he pulled up next to me, rolling the window down and leaning over.

"What's going on? Why aren't you back in there?"

"I just felt …awkward."

"Well, climb in."

"No, it's not that cold. I think I'll walk."

"You may not have realized that we drove seven miles to get here."

"We did?" I really hadn't thought it was that far. I took a deep breath and opened the car door, getting in where the heater was warming up the interior. He rolled my window up and we took off.

"Okay, what's going on? You can't really be that inept at meeting people."

I closed my eyes. "Maybe I'm just not ready."

"You still have feelings for him?"

I looked out the window. "Yeah, something like that. I still have feelings." I didn't tell him who I had the feelings for as we drove through the buzzing date night streets of Princeton.

"Dude, you aren't going to have those babies if you don't jump into the gene pool."

On Sunday, I decided that Greg was right and I should get out. I looked at the entertainment section in the newspaper and saw that there was a spring craft festival taking place down near the University, so I dressed in jeans, a long sleeved Henley, my leather jacket and took off.

Getting outside was good for me. I felt my spirits start to lift and really found the folk music that was being played in the square quite interesting. The booths lining the square had various crafts displayed for sale, some rather amateurish, others quite beautiful and intricate. I bought a knitted sweater and was about to find something to eat when I ran into him.

"Hello! What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm just doing some shopping. And you?"

"I just dropped my daughter off; her mother, my ex, has a booth down here."

Roy looked hot with his clean shaven chin, big brown eyes, Tommy Bahama jeans and a polo shirt with a sweater over it. His hair was a dark brown and he looked a little like a thinner John Cusak. He looked at my bag and motioned behind him.

"There's a café a block away, why don't we go have some coffee and you can show me what you bought."

"Uh, well, I guess. Sure."

We walked away from the festival area and down a block towards the restaurant talking the whole time. Roy was easy to talk to and I found myself fascinated by his background. He was the administrator of the local DMV and the stories he could tell about people trying to cheat to get their license were both scary and hilarious.

We ordered coffee and I ordered a chicken salad since I hadn't eaten breakfast. I was feeling flirty, jittery like you get when you first meet someone. I didn't notice the shadow over my shoulder.

"Oh, it's your brother." Roy said as he got up to welcome my "brother."

I turned and felt my heart leap into my throat—Greg had that ornery look on his face.

"Well, well, I see you found your bathing suit." He laughed, referring to the gene pool.

Roy looked baffled and I shook my head to let him know it was nothing. Greg sat down next to me in the booth, pushing me over with his hip.

"Greg, Roy and I were having a private chat."

"Oh, I love private chats." He put his arm around me and gave me a sideways squeeze. "Isn't my sister just the sweetest thing?"

Roy smiled and gave a short nod. "She certainly seems nice."

"Greg. Please?"

The waitress brought him a cup of coffee and left just as abruptly. I wasn't getting rid of him anytime soon.

"Roy, do you want kids?" Greg asked out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Just a question, might as well put it on the table. My sis here is dying for some rugrats."

I felt my entire body flush with heat as I started to slide down in the booth.

"Well, sorry, no. I have a daughter and I did have a son, but he was killed by a drunk driver. I had a vasectomy after my daughter was born." He said it to me more than to Greg and his voice sounded apologetic.

I shook my head as if it didn't matter.

"Well, that answers that question." Greg said looking up and motioning to the waitress for his check. "My work is done here."

"I'm sorry about your son." I said, knowing this sounded pretty pathetic.

"Thank you." Roy said.

The waitress brought Greg's check; he handed her five bucks and then got up, leaving without saying another word.

"Your brother is a rather odd duck, isn't he?"

"He's not my brother. He's my best friend's boyfriend and he thinks he's my new matchmaker. I'm really sorry that you were exposed to him. He's very rude and crude."

"Ah, that explains a lot. But, maybe he has hit on something. I really don't want children and if that's something you're really interested in, I'm not the guy." He was kind, apologetic, but adamant.

"I appreciate your forthrightness. Yes, I'd like to have children."

"I think you'll probably make a good mother, you have a good sense of humor and believe me, you need one to be a parent."

"If I ever have any." I looked at my salad and realized that I wasn't hungry anymore. I pulled out my wallet and he waved his hand.

"No, please, let me get this."

"Oh, that seems unfair."

"No, it's fine. I had a nice time until your 'brother'—" He used his fingers to make quotes. "Showed up."

"Yeah, he's a real buzz kill." I picked up my things and started to get ready to go.

"Hey, if you ever feel like just catching a movie or having lunch, without children, give me a call." He smiled and handing me his business card.

I laughed. "Thanks. I really do appreciate your candor."