A/N: A few people have asked about Ember and where there are similar pictures. Big Brown, who won the Kentucky Derby recently, is a blood bay, and there are plenty of pictures of him on search engines. I consider the name a travesty; I know he was named for UPS, still think it's totally lacking in dignity that a horse's name should have. But he is a good example of a blood bay. If you search "Big Brown stallion" and pick the link from Three Chimneys Farm, where he stands at stud, then click on "conformation" on the left of his page, the resulting full body shot is a good example. Another blood bay who was a personal favorite of mine was Alysheba, 1987 Kentucky Derby. Google "Blood Horse Alysheba slideshow," and you will get the tribute Blood Horse magazine did on his death. Pictures 1, 24, and 27 are especially good examples. You can also Google "Frog the Horse that Knew No Master," and the link from Goodreads has the edition with a picture of a blood bay jumping on the cover. Keep in mind that all bays change seasonally depending on summer/winter coat, and some are naturally much brighter than others at any time. There's a lot of range. Ember is very bright. Anyway, those horses will give you an idea.
Today's shorter chapter is brought to you by the letters S, N, O, and W. Reviews warm up the writer! Enjoy this little family scene.
Next chapter might be later today, depending on how projects while housebound go. If not today, it definitely won't be tomorrow, which has to be Sunday and Monday both and absorb the Mom rounds. But it will come ASAP.
(A/N)
Saturday evening, the Wilsons came over to eat with the Houses and Thomas. The two families often got together at least once during the weekend, but tonight had already been booked as a post-Ember update. Wilson and Sandra had been warned earlier in the day about the surprise addition of the Cuddys.
With the meal in the oven but not quite ready, most of the group at this point was looking at pictures. Thomas had downloaded his camera that afternoon after getting Ember groomed and had emailed the whole set to his son and his daughter-in-law, so two computers were providing slideshows at the moment. Cuddy was sitting dutifully between her parents with her laptop and clicking through each as they watched. House was in a recliner with the Wilsons hovering on either side inspecting each shot on his computer, and Thomas was in the other recliner with, intermittently, Rachel.
Rachel was far too excited to stay in one place too long. Having aroused from reverie, she made frequent gallop rounds of the living room, accompanied by hoofbeats, whinnies, and snorts from her stuffed horse. She regularly stopped at Thomas to ask how Ember was settling in, never tiring of the same details over and over. She had already seen the full picture set on the camera at lunch and had been in paradise when Thomas promised her an enlarged print of her with Ember for her room.
Abby was in her father's lap, and he had taught her to advance to the next picture. Daniel, whose vocabulary was limited but persistent at this stage, toddled from one person to the other, family, friends, and strangers alike. He would always stop at each and smile, looking up with chocolate eyes. "Hi!"
He popped up just now at House's knee. "Hi!" he said again.
House sighed. "Didn't the first five times count? Hi, squirt."
Undeterred, Daniel moved on to Thomas. "Hi!"
"Yep, that's Wilson's kid," House commented. "Teaching him the charm early, aren't you?"
Wilson smiled proudly. "It can't be taught, House. Some people just have the gift." He nodded toward the screen. "That's a really good one." Rachel was feeding Ember the carrot.
"Not bad," House agreed, but he couldn't hide his own proud smile.
Susan, from over on the couch, shuddered, and House wondered if she was looking at the same shot. "Lisa, that horse is so BIG. She shouldn't be that close to it."
"Her," Thomas corrected under his breath. It was so soft that Susan didn't hear him, but House and the Wilsons did.
Cuddy was tense herself but thoughtful. Seeing it there on the screen, the magic apparent just from the look on her daughter's face, was powerful. "He did keep the gate between the horse and the girls, Mother."
"Obviously not enough of it. The horse is right there!"
"But Rachel looks like she was having a good time," Robert offered.
"There are less dangerous ways to have a good time. People can get hurt by horses." Susan looked over at Thomas, obviously holding him responsible for this infatuation of her granddaughter's.
Cuddy looked like she wanted nothing more than to agree, but she tried diligently to present her daughter's case. "Rachel has been noticing horses for a while on her own. When we watched the Thanksgiving parade on TV, the Budweiser wagon was there, and she was just staring."
Wilson laughed. "I remember when the broadcast changed to the next entry in the parade. She got mad at the TV. Didn't see why it couldn't stay with the horses clear through."
"Ember isn't as big as those Clydesdales," Thomas said. "But the horse bug in a kid is either there or not. I've met people at the last barn who didn't get to indulge it until 35, and they'd still never lost the dream."
"Hi!" Daniel popped up next to Susan and smiled at her.
"Hi," she replied distractedly. Cuddy looked at her mother, then back at the pictures.
"Next one, Abby," House said. Abby started to advance to the next picture, but at that moment, the email chime sounded. "Just a minute. I need to check something." They had a brief tussle over the touch pad, and he gave in. "Okay. See the pointer on the screen. Move it over here. Whoops, a little too far. Right there. Okay, now tap." Wilson behind him smiled, wondering what the odds would have been on a bet five years ago at PPTH that this scene would ever happen. House was going soft in his fatherhood.
The email was from Jensen, a reply to the pictures House had sent him. "Read it!" Abby insisted.
"I think the next picture has both of you, plus the horse," her father offered.
Abby started trying to sound the email out on her own. "A. . . d. . . o. . .r. . . .a. . . b. . . l. . . e."
"Wow." Wilson couldn't help being impressed. He looked at his own son, wondering what his special gifts and areas would be. As if hearing the thought, Daniel toddled back over to his parents.
"Hi!" he said, as if he hadn't seen them in years.
Sandra picked him up for a hug. "Hi, Daniel. You want to see a horsey? Look at the computer."
The computer, though was still on the email program. "What does that say?" House asked, pointing at the first word.
"Ad. . . or. . ." Abby tilted her head, studying the screen.
"Break it up. What's the first letter?"
"A."
"Good. Okay, the next three."
"There are easier words to work with, House," Wilson noted.
Abby turned around and glared at him. "No!" she scolded. With true Housian determination, she turned back to the one in front of her and resumed working with her father.
Wilson smiled. "And that one's definitely yours, House. Doesn't listen to me at all and refuses to make anything easy."
"It can't be taught. Some people just have the gift," House said, tossing his own words back at him. He pointed to the next letter. "D. How do you get in the house, Abby?"
"Door!" She looked at the email. "D . . . or. Door."
"Yes. On the sound, at least. Now put the word together so far. "
"A door."
"Right. Now, the next part . . ."
Rachel galloped past at full whinny. "Ember says hi!"
"Hi!" Daniel replied happily, smiling at her, but she was already gone in another direction.
Thomas and Robert were both watching Abby with similar looks of pride. Susan, meanwhile, was still caught up protesting the pictures. "I hope you at least gave both of those girls a bath when they got home."
Cuddy studied her mother and sorted through the words, reading a background that she'd never truly realized before. With a sigh, she stood. "I'd better check on that casserole."
(H/C)
"What a night." Cuddy closed the bedroom door. The girls were asleep, all of the company was gone for the moment, and the house was theirs again.
"What a day," her husband corrected. He sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Cuddy would have protested at one point, but she realized since getting together with him that shoes were an effort under the best of circumstances, which the end of the day almost never was. Part of it was innate defiance of John House's regimented household rules, but not all. She picked them up without comment, not even by body language.
"Yes. At least my parents were a little better with Thomas tonight."
"Wilson and Charm School, Jr., helped things." Cuddy paused in the process of starting to get undressed, stopping to face him, and he shook his head. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it. I've been good today. "
"I was just thinking, Greg. It would really help if you'd tell Mother and Dad that you invited Thomas to move up, that you want him here. Hearing it from you would carry more weight with them."
He tensed up, and all pretense of joking faded. "He can speak for himself."
"Yes, but they love you. I think they'd believe you more than they do me."
He shrugged and dodged, changing the subject. "You ought to talk to Patterson about the thing with horses."
She absorbed the jab, knowing he was just feeling emotionally trapped himself. "I . . . actually, I was thinking of it," she admitted slowly.
Surprise and then pride swept across his face. "Really?"
"Yes. Watching my mother tonight . . . I realized how much I'm turning into her."
He pulled her into his arms. "Trust me, you have a LOT more going for you than she does."
She shivered and leaned into him. He felt so strong and steady against her. "But they are big, Greg. And people do get hurt."
"Come here." When they parted a moment later, he said, "This could be really good for Rachel. I've never see her be so quiet and focused as this morning, in a good way. Almost like Abby with the piano."
"I hope so. She needs to find something that's hers, so she won't feel left out." She resumed undressing. "What did Jensen say besides adorable?" The reading lesson had been interrupted by the meal after that word was conquered.
"Same thing, that this would be good for her." And that he had a beautiful family. House saved that tidbit to himself, treasuring it, afraid to voice it out loud. He started unbuttoning his shirt. "Let's see if we can find something else to do today that your mother wouldn't approve of."
She laughed. "All right, but they leave the house right now, even mentally. Nobody can mention my parents for the rest of this night."
His blue eyes sparkled. "Deal."
She wound up breaking her own rule, of course. Later, after he was asleep, she lay there awake thinking. The images wouldn't stop scrolling through her brain. Rachel's intensity and look of wonder. Her daughter's smile when she said, "She kissed me!" as the horse took the carrot. The mare thundering around the paddock, pure power, frightening strength that even the ground recognized. Her mother's reactions looking at the pictures.
Finally, she slipped out of bed and put on her robe. Belle raised her head with an inquiring murmur, her eyes glowing in the dark. "Stay here," Cuddy told her, but the cat hadn't even started to stand up from her position on House's leg.
Cuddy walked down the hall to the living room and pulled out her laptop from the desk, scrolling through the full set of pictures again. Abby looked merely interested, but Rachel was enchanted. Finally, Cuddy retrieved her cell phone and then dialed.
"Hello, Dr. Cuddy."
"Am I calling too late?" she suddenly worried.
"No, I was still awake. Reading a book and petting the cats. How did today go?"
Cuddy sighed. "Do you think that . . . fear. . . can be contagious?" Such an ugly, difficult word, fear, but she managed to climb past it.
"I think that it can certainly be learned, sometimes even subconsciously. It's a very powerful emotion, Dr. Cuddy, even though there are stronger ones."
Cuddy looked at the picture on her laptop screen. Her daughter, clearly in heaven at that moment. "I think I am afraid of horses."