"Come on in," Cuddy invited. Robert and Susan entered the office, looking around. It wasn't the first time they had been there through the years, but the reflex assessment remained on seeing anybody's office, especially for her father.
Susan was the first to turn attention back to the two of them. "You look tired, Greg," she stated, then amended it to, "Both of you do."
House bit back his reflex annoyed dodge. The time had some for directness. Last night with Abby had proven that to him. "It's been a tough week," he replied, leaving the context wide open. Actually, the two of them looked stressed as well, reminding him that however annoyed and annoying they were, this last week hadn't been their idea of a picnic, either.
Cuddy started for the couch, tugged gently at his wrist to bring him along with her. "If you turn the chairs in front of the desk around, Dad, we can all see each other." She sat down. She had debated staying behind her desk, the constant reminder of her professional success right there in between herself and her parents, but she wanted her husband next to her even more. They would be most comfortable here.
Robert started turning the two chairs around. House sat down next to his wife and gave her hand a quick squeeze; he could feel how moist her palm was. Still, he was aware that she, too, had a resoluteness in her. It was time to deal with this.
Susan took a moment to admire the desk, running her hand along it as her husband was rearranging the chairs. "Your old desk," she recalled.
"Yes." Cuddy smiled in spite of the current tension. She loved having it here in her office. She returned the pressure of House's fingers, silent thanks again for it, and then, as her parents sat down, she took a deep breath and opened the meeting.
"I apologize again that we had to keep this from you, but there were good reasons."
"We're just worried about Greg," Susan countered. "And you and the girls, too, of course." And you're hurt, Cuddy added, but while Patterson was undoubtedly right about that, they weren't quite ready to admit it yet.
House spoke up. "We can take care of ourselves," he insisted. "He didn't get introduced to the girls for several months." And wouldn't have been introduced as soon as he had been were it not for Blythe's death, but House left that part out.
Robert had brought along a manila envelope, and he opened it now. "We got the report this morning on a background check we ordered."
"You hired a PI to investigate him?" Cuddy sputtered.
"Oh, don't pretend to be shocked, Lisa," Susan said. "You mentioned yourself that you two did the same thing."
"So why did you bother repeating it then?" House asked. "Just stimulating the local economy?"
Robert looked down at the sheets of paper he held. "We didn't know whom you hired or how thorough he had been. There is a lot of difference in competence from one investigator to another. We thought it was worth making sure."
Cuddy shook her head, and her annoyance on Thomas' behalf spurred her on to the blunt statement. "No, it wasn't that you didn't trust our PI. The main problem here is that you didn't trust us."
Both of them denied it immediately, and they collided verbally. House found Cuddy's hand again for a brief, proud squeeze as they sorted it out, and then Robert was left with the field, Susan yielding. "We do trust you two, but sometimes, emotions can get in the way of seeing clearly. We realize Thornton is a difficult issue for you, especially Greg."
It was House's turn to get annoyed. "My past isn't going to make me careless with my daughters."
"Not careless, Greg," Susan corrected. "We probably didn't quite say that right."
Cuddy took over, giving her husband a few moments. It was like a relay race, he realized. The two of them handing the baton off, back and forth. The sudden sense of teamwork vividly recalled his days on the lacrosse field, and he forced himself not to reach for his leg and distract her.
"Mother, Dad," Cuddy started, trying to channel Patterson and her extensive mental rehearsals this morning instead of just lashing back, "you need to realize something, and I'm not sure you do. Abby and Rachel are our daughters. The primary responsibility for them is on us. We're adults, and we are capable of looking out for our children."
"But they're our grandchildren," Susan replied. "And you and Greg are family."
"Family doesn't give you the right to know every detail of our lives," Cuddy said firmly. "Now that I'm grown and out of your house, there are going to be things you don't know. There should be things you don't know." Susan started to protest, and Cuddy hurried on. "And as for them being your grandchildren, they are Thomas', too. Think of things from his point of view. He did not know what was happening. He doesn't deny his mistakes."
The Cuddys looked at each other. "I do believe that," Susan admitted. "He seems sincere enough. But I still think we would have seen it if we'd been around then."
House tensed up more; that had been one of the toughest points for him to work through himself. Cuddy sighed. "How many child abusers do you two think you've known?" she asked. "Over the course of your life. Friends, business acquaintances, maybe even distant family."
"None," Robert said.
They truly believed that, House realized. "Statistically, that's near impossible given your ages. You just didn't notice them. Because in public, they could act . . ." He shuddered suddenly, remembering the front John had put on every time they left the house or even often in it around Blythe. Even she had missed it. And . . . she shouldn't have. Jensen was right. He'd had a hard time admitting that over the months, but any failings for the old man did apply at least equally to her.
His visible reaction stopped the accelerating debate in its tracks. He felt Cuddy's grip on his arm, reminding him of her presence. Not that he was in any danger of slipping into a flashback, just remembering, but he still was grateful for that touch. Robert and Susan both were looking at him with concern. "Are you all right, Greg?" Susan asked.
Cuddy saved him having to answer, turning the subject instead. "So since you got a background report, are you satisfied now?"
Robert sighed. "He doesn't have anything in his past that seems off. I brought an extra copy if you two want one."
"No," she said firmly. "We have all the information we need on Thomas, and any more, we'll get from him, in person."
Susan was still looking with visible worry at her son-in-law but seemed to realize that making a point of his reaction would be the wrong move just now. She turned back to her daughter. "I just wish we'd known."
"When?" Cuddy demanded. "In the middle of the trial when he first turned up? Back dealing with Blythe's death? When he and Greg were both injured at the track? Which of those was a good time to add even more tension by having you two down here - and you would have come down immediately to run your own investigation. They needed time to heal." It was her turn to shiver, remembering again that eternal Saturday spent waiting for news while they were trapped in an unstable building.
House came to life, taking over again. "How old do you think she is?" he asked.
"Of course, you're adults. We know that," Robert replied.
"Do you? Did your parents have every last detail of your lives once you were grown and on your own? Never once had something you kept from them? Even something major? Were they always the first call you made?"
That scored a direct hit. Both of the Cuddys fidgeted, caught in less-than-pleasant memories and imaginations.
House pushed the point. "Pick a day. First day you can think of when it would have raised holy hell to have them just show up unannounced in the middle of something personal and private going on. You can't tell me there never was a day like that in all the years."
There was silence for a moment, and then Susan met his eyes and asked it directly. "Do you want him here, Greg?"
Damn it. It was his turn to shift on the couch, remembering the old man's text last night. Do you need me? He turned to Cuddy, but for the first time in this conversation, she refused the hand-off of the baton and simply waited, though she did pick up his hand again. All of them were waiting. After a full minute, he spoke softly. "He'd . . . leave if I asked him to."
Cuddy squeezed his hand. He didn't, couldn't say anything else just now, and she picked up the conversation. "We can't keep going with this visit like we have been. The girls aren't going to buy it much longer. Last night was way too close with Abby, and they do not need to know all the background here right now. They are too young to hear all about John."
"Yes, they are," Robert agreed. "We apologize about last night, Greg. We didn't mean to set her off."
"You need to go back home," Cuddy continued. "You can visit now and then - with advance notice - but you can't just hang around Princeton supervising our lives. Thomas isn't going away. He lives here now. When you do visit, they need to be visits, just that, spending time with family, not inspections. If you can't do it on those terms, then don't visit at all." She was trembling slightly by the end of that speech, but her head was up, her tone firm.
"She can deal with things," House said. "We can deal with things. And we will look out for the girls. We have been all along."
Robert had a note of pride in his voice. "We know you've done well for yourself, Lisa. We are proud of you." She jumped, looking startled. "Just. . . please be careful. This is major."
"We are being careful," she replied. "But your visit needs to end. For the girls' sake. Last night was enough."
Susan looked like she wanted to object for a moment, but then she finally nodded. "We'll go. But please, Lisa, talk to us. Tell us how things are going when we call. We knew something was wrong, and we thought Greg was hurt worse than you said."
"I'm sorry about that," Cuddy said with a guilty flinch. "We'll give you updates now that you know about Thomas. But you aren't going to know everything. This is our life." She paused. So tempting just to leave it there, a clear victory, but she knew there was at least one more thing she had to say while they were actually talking about things that mattered. "Mother, Dad, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Robert replied, Susan agreeing almost in stereo.
Cuddy picked up her husband's hand again, reaching for strength. "Please, with Rachel and Abby, make sure they know that you're proud of them. That you love them. Just for who they are. Don't make it depend on a grade or a job."
They were flabbergasted, both staring at her for a long moment. "We didn't . . ." Robert finally started, then trailed off into silence.
"Just think about it, okay?" Cuddy stood up. "I am sorry you had to find out about Thomas like this."
They came to their feet, too, and she hugged them in turn. "Keep in touch. And I will give you updates, as much as I can."
Robert gave her an extra squeeze. "Lisa," he whispered into her hair, "we do love you."
She blinked back threatened tears. "I know. I know that now," she answered softly.
"Are you all right, Greg?" Susan said behind her. Cuddy whirled around. Apparently, her mother had been hugging him goodbye and had hurt his ribs, already aching from PT. He had his left arm braced against his side, and Susan had backed off a step, looking guilty.
"I'm fine," he replied. "They're almost healed up now. Want to see the x-rays?"
Susan studied his posture and made herself leave it, settling for a simple, "Take care of yourself. You, too, Lisa."
Then they were gone, the office door closing behind them. Cuddy felt abruptly weak in the knees. The couch was only a few feet away, but her husband was nearer, and he had her, pulling her into an embrace. "I'm proud of you." She let the words wash over her soul and leaned against him (though carefully), closing her eyes. They had survived the last hour, as they had the last year - together.