A/N: Sorry for the delay, but all musical and real-life writing activities went well. Updates are likely to be slower on my stories as we head into improving weather, as the work outside quotient increases. Thanks for all the reviews, and enjoy 63!

(H/C)

They ordered room service again. Cuddy realized how much Thomas was enjoying these meals together privately, and this might well be the last one. The schedule today would be tight, and lunch was likely to be on the run.

Speaking of the schedule, she launched into details even before she finished hanging up the phone after ordering. "About the agenda for today," she started, coming back over to sit down with the rest of the group, taking the end of the couch closest to her husband's chair. Rachel was in his lap, along with the stuffed Ember. Marina, next to Cuddy on the couch, had Abby, and their youngest daughter scrambled over into her mother's lap as she sat down. "The schedule is going to be packed, but I've been thinking it through."

"And the sun also rose this morning," House snarked, but he sounded a little distracted. He was very thoughtful so far today. Cuddy wondered what he and Thomas had talked about briefly and hoped that it had been a real conversation.

She gave him the requisite tight smile to acknowledge his quip but plunged on undeterred into her carefully polished itinerary. "We need to be at the airport by 1:30." Wilson nodded in approval, while House clearly thought that security time limit was generous. "But we have some loose ends to tie up, too. Going back to the house, getting our boxes ready and shipping them. I also want to talk to Patsy. And there's the will."

"You're not going to get the will sorted out today, you know," Wilson told her. They had had a summary of the will's contents yesterday while waiting for House and Jensen.

"Oh, I know that. It's going to take a few months in probate before we can legally sell anything. But we need to work out arrangements on the house till then. Even before her brother gets here, she can keep an eye on it. We need to get the furniture moved into a storage area, plus the desk and the piano shipped. Eventually, all those gifts will have to be given out, and Patsy can help with contact information."

House pointedly looked at his watch. "You're going to clear out the house and be at the airport by 1:30?" he asked skeptically. It was 8:40 now. "News flash. I realize you get confused on this point, but you're not actually a superhero."

She smiled at him. "I have figured that out." Working on it, anyway, with Patterson's help. She mentally dodged the thought and plunged on into agenda. "Today's just the boxes and details. I know we can't deal with the furniture now. But we do need to get everything cleared out before her brother and his wife can move in, even if they're just renting at first." She was unable to resist a quick glance from her husband to Thomas. "I really think I'm going to have to come back down here for a weekend in the next couple to move things into storage. We can hire a truck company, but I want to supervise them."

House had caught that furtive glance and squirmed in his seat enough that Rachel looked back at him. Which was worse, letting Cuddy have a weekend alone talking to him, or participating himself? Thornton would be bound to show up, of course. Couldn't resist the chance for another dose of company. He had already perked up, putting this together and anticipating the ending with carefully controlled eagerness. House briefly considered getting his father a dog or something, to see if that would substitute. It would at least help differentiate between loneliness and something more.

But those hours in the graveyard, revising the stone, had not been sparked by loneliness. He shifted again, and his leg protested.

Cuddy, after the brief silence, went on briskly, and he realized that she was tense herself. Her tone didn't show it, but the angle of her jaw did. "This upcoming weekend will be snowed under with paperwork; I've been out of the hospital for over a week and a half. The second weekend in January has a donor coming who could only make it on a Saturday. He wanted a tour of PPTH. What about the third weekend?"

Wilson tightened up, and House noticed. "Third weekend's out," House vetoed. "Wilson and I are going to that model train show in Philly." Wilson relaxed, and Thomas smiled briefly.

Cuddy hid her own smile as her husband counted himself in without actually saying so. "Fourth weekend in January?" She looked from House to Thomas. "But the brother's current lease is up on the 15th."

"They can live with her for a while. Or they can test drive the furniture and see if they want to buy any of it. Remember, location, location, location. We have it, and they want it. They'll work with us."

Wilson very reluctantly removed himself from the roll call. Not that he didn't want to participate; he just thought that maybe he shouldn't. "I'm busy that weekend, so I'll pass." Jensen gave him a subtle nod.

"You didn't need to be wrestling furniture too much with your back anyway," Cuddy scolded. "That's okay, Wilson. We'll miss you, but we'll have hired movers to help." She looked back at her husband. "Fourth weekend in January?"

He shrugged. "You've already decided anyway. Watching muscles without brains move furniture; my idea of a fun weekend. The fourth is as good as any of them since you're determined to waste one."

Cuddy waited. The room waited. House dodged away, and after a moment, she firmly went on herself. "Do you want to come, Thomas? You can see the piano off on its way."

"I'd like that," he agreed quickly. "Let me know what shipping company you're using on the desk. More efficient to have both picked up at once, even if they go different directions from the warehouse later that day."

"I'll do that." She smiled at him, and the knock by room service came at that moment.

Conversation during breakfast was deliberately casual, avoiding any sticky subjects at all, but right as they finished, Abby spoke up. She had been sitting there thinking as usual, the wheels visibly spinning even while she ate. "More planes?" she asked her mother.

"That's right, Abby. We'll take another plane today. We're going back home this afternoon."

Abby looked over at Thomas, and her sister saw her and followed it. "What about Thomas?" Rachel asked.

"I'm going home, too, Rachel. I'm looking forward to seeing Ember, just like you are with Belle."

The offered animal distraction didn't divert her. "No!" she protested. "You come."

He smiled at her. "Rachel, I've got my own home. Maybe we'll see each other again sometime, but for now, we're going to have to say goodbye."

"But not like Grandma," Marina put in quickly. She had been very careful to explain to them the differences between "saying goodbye" at the funeral and when someone just walked out the door for a while. "This is the other kind of goodbye."

Rachel squirmed her way down from House's lap, almost knocking off their shared empty plate. "No. Don't wanna." She trotted over to Thomas' chair. He didn't bend to pick her up that time, and it was a difficult scramble by herself to get up into his lap. House couldn't help tensing up.

Cuddy sighed. "Rachel, maybe we can talk to him now and then. Maybe. But we do have to go home."

"Think about Ember," Thomas said. "I need to go back to her."

That, of course, was the wrong approach to take, as Rachel had the perfect solution. "Bring Ember, too."

"No," Thomas told her. "I'm sorry, but that's not how it's going to be right now. You need to go back home, and so do I." He looked from his granddaughter to his son.

House started to fire off a comment when the contrast abruptly hit him. Rachel wanted Thornton to join them; she didn't want him to take her away from the home she had. She was happy with that one already, and even at three, she knew it and wasn't interested in replacement, just addition. She was secure with her family, nothing like his own request at six. But still, she was only three. Her parents should be watching out for her interests, making decisions that sometimes she didn't agree with. He sighed. "Rachel, come here." Even in the insight, he couldn't resist the subtle test. She hesitated, then climbed down and came back across to him, and he helped her climb up. A knot deep within relaxed half a twist of the rope. "Today, we're going home, and so is he. Separately. Maybe. . . maybe you could see him again in a few weekends when we come back to move the furniture."

Rachel considered this. "When?"

"Three weeks, roughly. Think of Saturday. You know Saturdays." She nodded vigorously. The different schedule for her parents was obvious there. "We've got a Saturday coming right up in no time at all. Including that one, three Saturdays at home, then we'll come back here just for a day or two on the Saturday after that."

"With Thomas?" she asked.

"He'll be here. He won't fly down with us."

"And Ember?"

"No," said Cuddy, House, and Thomas in perfect unison. Rachel drooped a bit, then weighed that against the prospect of seeing him again, even without the elusive horse.

"I'm not busy the fourth weekend in January," Marina offered softly.

Cuddy smiled at her. "You might be now." She looked over inquiringly at Jensen.

The psychiatrist firmly shook his head. "I am busy that weekend, just like James. I'm sure the rest of you will manage fine."

Rachel was still trying to work out three weekends mentally. Thomas spoke up tentatively. "Look at your Ember, Rachel. Four hooves. Walk, trot, canter, and gallop. If you count one hoof for each Saturday, we'll see each other by the time you're clear around the horse."

She brightened and retrieved the horse, which had been deposited beside the chair during breakfast. She squeezed a hoof. "One," she said with an impish grin.

"Doesn't count," her father said. "It isn't Saturday."

Cuddy looked at her watch and briskly shifted Abby over, stood, and started collecting plates. "It's 9:20 already. This day is going to be crazy trying to get everything covered."

"We have another stop before the house, too," her husband said. "You left one off your list." He fought back a laugh at her panicked expression as she turned toward him.

"What, Greg? No. We can't possibly do anything else this morning."

"Yes, we can. Short stop." He waited, drawing it out, watching her dread grow. Finally, he put her out of her misery. "I need to order a monument."