Exit Strategy
He was still in bed when she woke up this time. A soft light bled through the shades indicating it was still early. She rolled over and snuggled against his back, putting her arm around his waist and placing a kiss between his shoulders. "I love you," she whispered against his hot skin, and it twitched in response to the tickling of her lips. His arm slipped over hers, and his hand intertwined with hers as he pulled them both over his heart.
"How long do we have before your ex drops off the kid?"
"He's not. I'm picking Greg up on my way Monday. We're going to see my folks. Then I have him until the second."
"So, I have you for a weekend then?"
"If you want me."
He kissed her hand and they fell silent. Just as they were both about to doze off again, Noise from the kitchen filtered through the door. "Sound's like mom's making herself useful. Do you have breakfast stuff? She'll make a huge meal for us if you do."
"Not really. I normally grab a sandwich and coffee at the Starbucks on the corner."
"Damn," he rolls over to face her. "I guess we'll have to brave being seen together because I am starving and hungover and that calls for a greasy high-carb, high-fat breakfast with coffee and a Bloody Mary."
"There's a breakfast joint a couple of blocks from here. But you have to promise to help me burn the calories off later."
"Deal." He pecks her lips with a kiss, rolls over and sits up, then yells through the apartment. "Hey, mom! Allison doesn't have shit to eat, so stop milling and get dressed! We're going out!"
She left ahead of him with his mother, promising to text once they were seated. He didn't want to be standing in a waiting area full of people with them. It only took one wrong person to see one of them and approach to 'say hi' and it could be a disaster. Better for her to get a table at least, so one could keep an eye out. It was all very double oh seven and while she doubted running into anyone who knew him or his mom, she certainly ran into her fair share of acquaintances while out and about the neighborhood.
Luckily, it was a slow morning and they got a table within five minutes and five minutes after they were seated, House slid into the booth beside his mother with their backs to the entrance. Cameron greeted him with a smile "So if I see anyone that I know come in, I'll just head to the girl's room. If by some stretch of the imagination I see someone that knows both of us, I guess we both should go and sneak out the back."
"So you're sticking me with the bill then?" Blythe asked amused.
"Sorry, I guess I'm all new to this super spy, secret-new-life thing."
"It's fine dear. We actually did have to toss cash on the table and sneak out the kitchen once in New York. It's not likely to arise, but it does pay to have an exit strategy."
"Yeah. My worst fear is running into Lisa. She knows all three of us." Cameron bemoaned.
This caused House to groan and rub his face. "Oh, God, don't jinx us."
"Well, she doesn't live in this part of town, so don't limp for the hills just yet."
Blythe asked Allison all about Greg. Of course, Cameron had a million-and-one images on her phone to share. The older lady melted on each, occasionally squeezing her own son's knee. House for his part, followed along and rolled his eyes at the gushing females. He did perk up for the Halloween images. The theme was Star Wars and Greg was Darth Vader and Cameron was Leia. Skimpy slave Leia.
"Trying to piss off your ex with that display?" House asked as he zoomed in on Cameron's breasts, over his mother's hand, earning a slap from her.
"That was more of a pleasant side effect. I promised Greg he could pick our costumes this year. He picked slave Leia because she's, and this was his words and not mine, 'pretty like mommy.' How was I supposed to say no to that?"
"He's right. I like him even more now that I know he can be leveraged to get you into skimpy Halloween costumes. This is a talent of the highest order and demands respect and encouragement from the male role models in his life. And I like the dark hair. Reminds me of old times."
"I liked it too. It's been forever since I've had it darkened. I almost ended up staying brunette again after that, but I'd bought the kind that only takes a few washings to fade out and got too slammed at work to deal with the salon afterward. Then it was back to blonde and I just forgot about it."
He reached over again and grabbed the phone, pinch-zooming in and out over her breasts again and again. "Don Christopher Johnson! Stop digitally fondling Allison's breasts in public. I raised you better than that."
"Sorry, Mom. I'll save my fondling for the real thing later tonight." He waggles his eyebrows at Allison, who simply took her phone and winked back and sipped her coffee. All the while wondering if House was implying he was planning on being a 'male role model' in Greg's life.
"Greg looks just like you, Allison. He's so handsome. I bet his grandparents spoil him rotten. I know I would," Bythe sighs. Then it occurs to her that Bythe might be auditioning, but Cameron had no idea if she should mention anything at all. Had House told Blythe about their situation? Did she know Allison was considering running away or was it all in her imagination?
She didn't think on it long before the waiter came by to take their orders. After that House dominated the conversation tell them all about his latest work involving genetically modifying mice to help find ways to more effectively fight HIV in humans. It was extremely early stage but the work sounded fascinating to Cameron. House was excited in a way she'd never seen him and she began to see the new life House had made as Don Johnson really did work for him.
"I thought treatment was boring," Allison teased.
"It is when you know what the result is going to be. But when you're splicing the DNA of a rodent with a little bit of human, there are tons of puzzles to be solved before the work becomes boring. And I still get to use my diagnostic skills to rule out test subjects."
"And how do you publish your work and maintain your cover?"
"I don't. I let the boss man. Sometimes I get a team credit or a co-author credit. But Richard loves presenting and going to conferences and I love doing the work. And he's usually right in the thick of it with me anyway. He's gullible about life but at work, he's one of the great doctors.
"He knows I can't do something as simple as an interview without the chance it could backfire and get me invited to speak somewhere or have someone asking to publish an image with an article. Most bosses push for that. They feel they need the team of rockstars to get funding. Richard is great. He told the whole team that part of my eccentric nature involves refusing to be photographed or directly published. The team doesn't mind because they still get all the credit and I get to do something that helps keep me sane."
Breakfast passed without a hitch and they followed a similar plan going home, House taking a different route than the women, just to play it safe. As soon as they were home, Blythe began packing to leave. An hour later they said their goodbyes and Cameron had House all to herself again. She never felt comfortable talking to Blythe about her own desire to run away or ask advice on how to handle her parents. However, Blythe did tell her one thing on the way home that Cameron was sure was a hint.
"From one mother to another, I'd like to tell you that I think you're good for my son. I never thought that about his other girlfriends. I realize, given the circumstances, the term 'girlfriend' is a stretch, but he's never talked to me this much about any other woman. I know it's not going to be easy and you have your own son to consider but if you two can find a way to make this thing work, I'd have a weight lifted. I'm all he has left in this world and at my age, who knows how long it will be before he's left alone. Neither of you deserves to be alone, Allison. And from what I gather, Don's good for you too."
The problem was it wasn't only Greg, House's, and her lives she was affecting. If she left and took Greg, she was effectively killing them both for not just Ray but for her whole family as well. Or she doesn't take him, and he thinks his mother died or worse yet, found out the truth that she abandoned him.
It hurt. The whole goddamned mess hurt her in ways she didn't know she could hurt. As soon as they closed the door on Blythe, House sensed her unease. He grabbed her hand and led her to their bed. She thought he was going to fuck her pain away but instead, he went to his bag. After milling around for a few seconds he ambled back over to the bed and tossed several items onto it. She walked to stand beside him and looked closely at what he had produced.
Two passports, a folded letter, and a driver's license with her image. On it, her hair was styled in a brunette pixie cut. It wasn't a picture she'd ever had taken or a hairstyle she'd ever worn. "I look like a fifteen-year-old boy with this haircut." She told him offhandedly as she continued inspecting the falsified document.
The date made her a few years older, but she remembered House's story of how he came about a 'legitimate' new identity. This person was likely someone who had died alone, and their persona became fair game for those who knew how to exploit it. She picked it up and read the information aloud. "Lanora Johnson, date of birth April 9th, 1976, five foot six inches, one hundred twenty-five pounds, green eyes, is this what I think it is?"
He shrugged and she grabbed the passports, the first matched the license. Slightly different image of her, again one she had never taken. Obviously, the people House had used were skilled in photo manipulation. Both the passport and licenses showed fairly recent issue dates about a month apart. "Wouldn't it seem more real if these were backdated or stamped a few times?" she inquired, still in too much shock to ask any real questions about what all of this meant.
"Not for a woman who's just gotten married and updated her IDs with her new name so she can travel." He hands her the folded paper. She opens it to find a marriage certificate from the state of Pennsylvania dated almost two months ago. Lanora Anne Stephenson wed to Donald Christopher Johnson, November 8th, 2015.
"I know it's the kind of thing a guy usually asks beforehand, but I'm not really known for being a normal guy. And, the whole getting down on one knee thing sucks when you're a cripple."
Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She quickly, wiped them away a moment later, still afraid to say a word, and picked up the other passport. It was one for her son, his name changed to Gregory Donald Stephenson.
House became more animated. His excitement showed more with every phrase from his mouth. "He looks just like you with blue eyes so I don't think there'll be many questions about my being his dad. Young kids are easy to fabricate from scratch, as it turns out, so I was able to keep his first name the same. I think lots of things would be easier to deal with that way. I also have a birth certificate for him, with Don and Nora as the parents. I hope you don't mind if I shorten your name to Nora, I like that better. Like Norah Jones."
Cameron simply nodded yes, still shell-shocked that he'd thought this through so thoroughly. He was spouting off like he was mid-epiphany in a case. Her heart raced as she watched him grow more and more animated.
"I figure we weren't together when he was born and maybe we got together later or lived in sin for a while before I made an honest woman out of you. At least if it comes up before we leave the country… if you'll leave with me… that's the story. I told Richard the guys I ratted out found my baby momma and that the feds were hooking us up to get you safely into witness protection. Told him, I had no clue I was a dad until they contacted me. Beyond that, the less he was told the better. Everyone else there tends to avoid me socially, so for all they know, I've had a wife and kid back in the States this whole time."
Floored with the new development, she sits on the bed, staring off into space as she imaged all the work he had done the past few weeks to make this crazy scenario a reality. Finally, she looks up and meets his eyes. "My God, you've planned this whole thing out already."
"I have. Look, you can still say no. I'm not kidnapping you—" His eyes looked worried, but his voice and body posture were defensive.
She tilted her head and answered seriously. "No, you're just suggesting we kidnap my son."
He sat beside her and took her hand. "It's more complicated than that, and you know it. Look, you don't have to say 'yes,' but we can't be together any other way. I wanted you to see how easily it could be a real thing. We just need a few more small details worked out and you could be free. Hell, Allison, if you want to leave and not be with me, you can do that now with these. I just think that someone like you deserves to be happy. You're not happy here, with this life. I don't want you to let it get as bad as I did. Leaving House for dead was the best thing I ever did for myself."
She began to shed tears again. House cupped her face and brushed them away with his thumb as she told him, "I… Oh, God, I want to. I want it so bad it hurts. I just don't know if I can live with hurting my family like that. Fuck Ray, but Greg would miss his father. My mother would lose her daughter and her grandson, so would my father. My brother would be okay but he'd be left dealing with picking up the pieces with our parents. I just can't—"
He interrupted having an answer for this argument well prepared. "Look, that's why I brought Mom to meet you. You said your father might go along with the idea. Your parents love you, you're a mother, put yourself in their shoes. It can work; Mom and I make it work. And it's way easier when she comes to see me in Germany. We do whatever we want. Tour all over Europe. She's considering telling Thomas at some point soon. She wasn't sure he wouldn't tell the cops at first, but she thinks so much time has passed, he won't see the point in doing anything. Hell if he does, I just don't come back. It's not like I did something the US government would bother chasing me all the way to Germany for. I'm not that important.
"Tell your dad the short story. Let him handle your mother however he thinks will make it all work. He can decide to tell her now or to tell her later. Hell, worse case scenario, we get out of the country and she breaks and tells the wrong person. We'll be long gone. It'll make the local news at best, so long as you keep my name out of it. And again, probably not worth the red tape for the U.S. government to try to figure out where we went or to try to get us back.
"You don't have to tell them your new name, or where we are going until you know they are cool. We can watch the news, use a couple of dummy emails and a proxy server to talk to them. Have them check it at the public library until the police stop inquiring. Just let your father know you aren't kidnapped or dead and leave with me. If Ray ever finds out, we move and tell no one. Not even my mother. They'll all live and they'll know we are alive at least.
"Greg's a three-year-old whose concept of death is believing people disappear to go live with Jesus. We tell him Jesus needed Daddy and that Santa is giving him a replacement dad for Christmas so he doesn't feel lonely. In a year he won't even remember Ray in detail. Ray and this life will be an impression. Like a dream you know you had, but can't quite remember anything of substance about after breakfast.
"After you are both sure you want to stay with me, we can change his name to Johnson too. If he talks about his other dad, we explain to everyone you had a boyfriend for a while before you and I got back together and Greg called him 'Dad'. Easy and believable."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cameron stared at the paperwork in her hand. Oh, how she wanted to. Could it really be that easy? Would she really feel free once she came down from the rush of running? It wasn't a try-it-and-go-back scenario. It was a clean and nearly complete break from everything in her life. It wasn't a reboot, it was a fresh install of a new life.
Finally, she looked at him again. Her hands were shaking. His expression was nervous and guarded as she began to speak. "You do realize that my German sucks, right?"