There is a note at the end regarding the episode schedule, please read.
Enjoy.
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Following House, who was walking with a disturbingly cheerful demeanor for him, we arrived at the clinic where Fryday silently pointed us to the cubicle, judging by her expression, Mrs. Hernandez was waiting for us, possibly not very happy.
Before we could enter the room. "I'll do this," said House quickly, as if afraid I would ask first.
"Be my guest," I replied immediately. It wasn't like I wanted to take away the 'privilege' of talking to the woman.
Inside the room, Mrs. Hernández was standing with her arms crossed and her brow extremely furrowed, clearly impatient and annoyed to be there.
Yeah, I definitely had no problem with House taking the lead.
Clapping her hands against her thighs, exasperated. "Finally," said the woman upon seeing us.
"Yes, we're sorry, we were in the middle of something incredibly important," replied House, falsely apologetic.
Raising one of her hands, the woman slightly shook her head, stopping House. "Why am I here again?" she asked.
House leaned casually against the wall next to the room's door, pausing dramatically in complete silence. "Men are pigs," he finally said after sighing softly.
"You called me in to tell me-" the woman was saying, but House interrupted her.
"We should've realized the vasectomy and condoms was overkill," said House, shaking his head, "but really, I wasn't paying much attention and he's still learning," he added, pointing at me.
"What are you-" the woman tried to speak again.
"But this," said House, pulling the red wallet from his coat pocket, "this was too obvious to miss," he declared, pointing at the photos. "Cute kids," House commented, avoiding the woman as she tried to snatch the images, "love her baby blue eyes and his blond hair."
Mrs. Hernandez, failing in her attempt to recover the photos of her kids, stepped back, staring at House, poorly attempting to hide the nervousness on her face.
"Of course, since you're caucasic and your husband is-" this time House was the one interrupted.
Approaching House trying to snatch the photos from his hand. "Where'd you get that?" asked the woman.
"From the father of two, maybe three, of your six children," replied House with a small malicious smile.
He was obviously enjoying this.
"I'm thinking maybe the reason you don't want surgery is that while your husband will find you attractive no matter what, all the other men you're sleeping with might not be so open-minded," theorized House slowly.
And from the change in expression and body language in Mrs. Hernandez, House had hit the nail on the head.
Of course, noticing the same thing I did in the woman, House smiled, letting a tiny silence linger before continuing. "Which brings me back to my original thesis, men are pigs, you got nothing to worry about," he said, causing Mrs. Hernandez to look at him strangely. "They'll pretty much have sex with anyone, fat, skinny, married, single, complete strangers, relatives-"
"You're sick," the woman interrupted him, disgusted, ready to leave the room.
"So are you," said House, stopping the woman in her tracks, "and I'm sure there are bars full of men looking for a married woman with surgical scars."
House's words, surprisingly, made the woman relax her posture, as if she were truly considering the possibility that the surgical scar might give her more chances to find extra-marital partners.
"So have the surgery," House continued. "Please?"
The woman, still with her arms crossed, but this time without seeming defensive, stayed silent, contemplating House's points, who was smiling, surely thinking he'd accomplished his goal.
Finally, after a couple of seconds, nodding. "Okay," said the woman.
Pushing off from the wall with a full smile. "Thanks," said House, lowering his head slightly.
Once his 'part of the job' was done, satisfied, House returned to the lounge on his own, leaving the rest of the actual work, basically paperwork, to me.
I appreciated more and more the vacation days I would be taking.
After finishing the necessary paperwork for Mrs. Hernandez's transfer. "I'll refer you with doctor Bergin, again," I said to the woman, raising my eyebrows slightly.
Fortunately, something House had achieved with his... peculiar persuasion method, besides of course getting the woman to accept the operation, was making her self-righteous attitude disappear completely.
Handing over the papers the woman would need. "I don't know how the doctor's schedule is, but if you follow these directions to the surgery wing, the reception nurse will be able to help you with the rest," I said calmly, pointing to the directions on the wall outside the clinic.
Taking the papers, surprisingly with a hint of shame, avoiding looking directly at me. "Thanks," said the woman, leaving quickly.
Sliding her wheeled chair over to my side. "What did he say to her to make her change her behavior so radically?" Fryday asked me from behind her desk.
Snorting. "You don't want to know," I said sarcastically.
Shaking her head, pressing her lips together. "Oh I really want to," replied Fryday immediately.
"Of course," I said, bursting out laughing, unable to help it.
I might be breaking the law or violating some ethical rule by ignoring patient-doctor confidentiality... but I wasn't a doctor and Mrs. Hernandez wasn't exactly the best patient, so I really didn't care.
Stepping behind the reception desk. "Mrs. Hernandez has six kids," I narrated slowly, dragging one of the empty chairs, Fryday nodded quickly, interested in the gossip, "all of them while she was married to Mr. Hernandez."
"Quite busy," said Fryday, joking.
"Yup," I said, amused, "well, during that same marriage, Mr. Hernandez had two, maybe three kids," I added, watching the nurse's expression change, her eyes opening wide.
Opening her mouth comically in shock. "No way," she whispered.
Nodding. "Way," I replied, amused.
Fryday, moving quickly, opened her chocolate drawer, possibly ready to give it all away while I told her the whole gossip.
Taking a small chocolate, I settled in and narrated everything that had happened, from the woman's first visit to the change in her expression when House correctly deduced the reason she didn't want the operation.
Once I finished the narration. "The nerve of some people," said Fryday, snorting in disbelief. "Even in my younger years, when I was beautiful, I never would've even imagined looking at another man besides my husband, I was completely in love," she declared seriously.
Squinting my eyes, I snorted. "'When you were beautiful'? Don't give that false modesty, you're stunning and you know it," I said, laughing at the nurse's reaction, who playfully pushed my arm.
Narrowing her eyes. "You're not going to get anything good by being a flatterer," she said, trying not to smile.
Pointing to the chocolate wrapper I had just eaten. "I got chocolate," I said, shrugging.
"Yeah, I guess you did," murmured Fryday, softly laughing, handing me another chocolate.
Later I returned to the lounge, where, without much to do, I took one of the books House had pointed out to me and read until it was time to return to the clinic, where there wasn't any special case, just another day full of repetitive ones.
The day passed like any other, and as I was getting ready to leave, I stopped in front of House's desk.
"By the way, even though I don't have a schedule, I have the basic decency to tell you I'm going to take a few weeks off," I said to House, who was playing with his portable console with his feet on his desk.
Raising his eyebrows, he slowly placed his console on the desk, lowering his feet at the same time. "Oh no, what are we going to do without you?" he asked, in a completely monotone tone.
"Apparently, solving any case is much slower" I said smiling sarcastically.
With a dry and completely fake laugh, House leaned back in his chair. "I've been doing this since before you were born, and I'll continue to do it better than you for the rest of your life," he replied, settling in arrogantly.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, I'm sure it's true" I replied mockingly.
Smiling, surely ready to answer something, House stopped, his eyes snapping open as if he'd just remembered something important, straightening up in his chair. "You can't leave," he said seriously, surprising me. "If you leave, who's going to work at the clinic?" he added a moment later.
"Uh, that seems to be a you problem," I said, smiling in a fake apologetic tone.
Triumphant, seeing how House seemed to understand that he would have no choice but to do the hours himself, I quickly left his office, to the lounge where after saying goodbye to the two doctors who didn't ignore my presence, I left the hospital heading to the gym, where I had grappling training, my favorite.
With my schedule almost completely free from not having to go to the hospital, I spent the next few days hanging out with my siblings, and especially with Diane on dates that always ended in her university dorm.
On Thursday of that same week, just a couple of days before going to the lake house, the entire Duncan family got into Bob's horrible truck, heading to the Houston airport.
Playing in a very uncomfortable position, apparently he needed the light to hit directly on the screen of his little portable console. "I don't get why I have to go too," said Gabe, complaining for what seemed like the tenth time.
"I already told you, we're going to welcome Meredith properly, as a family, that includes all of us going to the hospital to get her," explained Mom, exasperated.
"But she's not my friend, she's Teddy's friend," replied Gabe, annoyed.
Turning in her seat. "She's going to be living with us for the rest of the summer, so you're going to treat her with the respect and care she deserves, starting today," Mom said seriously.
Seeing that Gabe wanted to say something else, I quickly gave him a weak jab in the side, slowly shaking my head when he turned to look at me annoyed.
Successfully stopping my brother from getting in trouble, I stretched out as much as I could in the uncomfortably tight seat.
Honestly, if I had the choice, I wouldn't have come on the nearly three-hour trip to get Meredith either, but Mom had a point, it was important for Meredith to see that she was welcomed by everyone in the house.
The trip, filled with baby crying, Gabe's complaints that quickly turned into Teddy's complaints, and Mom's incessant singing, finally ended when we arrived at the airport... at least the first half of the trip.
Outside the horrible yellow truck. "I need a strong drink, want to drive back?" Bob asked me in a whisper.
I completely understood how he felt, unfortunately I highly doubted he'd get his drink, after all we were already tight on space and if he sat in the back, he'd take up even more room.
In one of the airport cafés, waiting for Meredith's plane to begin disembarking, I was playing with Charlie in my arms, killing time while the others did their own thing.
Teddy, who was watching the arrival gates. "I think it's them," she said excitedly, standing up to search among a crowd of people arriving with their suitcases.
Teddy's prediction came true a minute later, when among all the people, Meredith appeared, dragging two suitcases with a rather large backpack on her back, lifting her face as she searched through the crowd.
Being the first to see her. "There she is," I said calmly, pointing, making Teddy focus in that direction a moment later, running excitedly.
Since Meredith had already spent several days with us in Boston, she had formed a much more special friendship with my sister than with anyone else, a friendship that apparently had been maintained or even strengthened through phone calls all this time.
Reaching Meredith quickly, my sister hugged her tightly, making the other girl go stiff for a second, before awkwardly returning the hug, luckily the discomfort disappeared a moment later.
It was pretty sad to think about how little physical affection Meredith may have received in her life.
Following Teddy shortly after, we all approached where the two teenagers were still hugging and laughing.
Separating from my sister, noticing my parents. "Ah hello, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan," said Meredith, seeming slightly embarrassed.
Waving her hand, dismissing the girl's words. "None of that, you know I'm Amy," said Mom, practically pulling Meredith into a hug.
This time I was sure I wasn't the only one who noticed Meredith's discomfort, which fortunately lasted only a fraction of a second before Mom let her go.
Once free, Meredith greeted the rest of my family, this time without hugs.
"Hey Mer," I said, smiling, once it was my turn.
I definitely didn't expect a hug, maybe a smile or something like that, I mean, during the time I had known her in Boston we had definitely built a relationship as something close to siblings, at least I saw her like a little sister like Teddy.
Instead, Meredith furrowed her brow. "PJ," she said dryly, returning her attention to Teddy.
Looking at the expressions of the others present to see if anyone else had noticed what I just did, I discovered I was completely alone.
Carrying one of the two suitcases the teenager had with her, after all, she will stay with us for practically two months, the other suitcase was being carried by Bob.
We all left the airport together to where the truck was parked, and during the whole walk to the car, Mom and Teddy interrogated Meredith about her trip, Mom hiding important questions as simple curiosity, things like whether anything weird happened with another person while she was traveling alone or if her mother had seen her board.
In the car on the way back home, I confirmed that the way she greeted me definitely hadn't been a mistake; asking her questions, mostly about her life in Boston, I got more cold answers that no one besides me seemed to notice.
Meredith was definitely upset with me, and I didn't know why.
Shortly after, an hour and a half to be precise, we were back home.
Bob and I carried Meredith's suitcases to Teddy's room, where the two girls locked themselves in, laughing with music drowning out the noise soon after.
Several minutes later, the number of teenagers in the house doubled. Baja and Bianca, obviously invited by Teddy, arrived at the house and soon after there was pizza and music blasting at full volume from my sister's stereo.
Gabe, who was watching TV next to me, kept turning his head, annoyed, toward Teddy's closed door. "Do you think they know how to be quiet?" he asked me, frustrated.
Even though the TV volume was relatively loud, the music from Teddy's room was definitely the loudest thing in the house.
Snorting, I shook my head. "Don't let them hear you, they outnumber us," I said jokingly, making Gabe sigh as he leaned back on the couch.
Frowning and clenching his jaw. "Do you think the last two will stay the night?" he asked, with hope in his words.
Nodding slowly, I silently answered Gabe, who groaned tiredly.
Knowing that both Bianca and Baja had arrived with backpacks, it was quite possible they'd even stay until we left for the lake house.
Seeing that my brother was truly frustrated, I gently pushed his head. "What do you say if you and I go do something, maybe there's a movie playing at the theater?"
Without stopping to think for even a second. "Yes," Gabe replied, jumping to his feet.
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As I always say, I read all the comments you leave me on every platform. Over the past two weeks, there's been one in particular that has come up more than any other: the frequency with which I publish new chapters.
I want to take this note to talk about exactly that and to tell you that yes, I do intend to improve in that area. As you may have noticed, this chapter is shorter than usual. Why? Because I want to try something different.
I usually focus on writing long chapters, between 4000 and 6000 words, which is my normal average. But I have to admit, with a bit of embarrassment, that this has led me to lose consistency.
Instead of writing regularly, lately I've limited myself to making about 500 words a day… and there are days when I simply don't write at all, relying on the idea that I'll rush through it right before publishing, and I feel that unfortunately, this has affected the quality of what I write because I've fallen into a comfort zone and have almost completely lost that hunger to improve my process.
So I've decided to change strategies by focusing on pushing myself to improve, like I used to.
From now on, I'm going to push myself to write one chapter a day. Not long chapters like before, but entries between 2200 and 3000 words (ideally close to 2500). I've already tested the pace, and it takes me about two hours to do it when I'm focused.
Does that mean there'll be a new chapter every day? Not exactly. But it does mean there will be more updates per week. That's the goal: to reduce the waiting times without sacrificing quality.
Remember that I'm relatively new to this (basically a 2-year-old baby, at least when it comes to writing) and any advice you think is ideal or useful would be immensely appreciated.
Thank you for your patience and for continuing to read.
With nothing more to add, kisses and a hug.
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Author Thoughts:
As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, not a fighter, not Magnus Carlsen, not Michael Phelps, not Arsene Lupin, not McLovin, not Elliot, not Capone.
Another chapter has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to especially thank:
11332223
RandomPasserby96
Victor_Venegas
I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.
Thank you for reading! :D
PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.