Dear Readers: This story is the sequel to Intuitive. However, if you do not want to read Intuitive, the simple summary is that House fell in love with a psychic who had his baby. They were married for a short period when Teagan, the psychic, died of a tumor. Teagan had worked for the FBI when she was younger, but had burned out (always feeling the pain and sorrow of the loved ones of the dead victim) and went to live in the mountains near Yosemite where she had a small cabin. This story takes place years later.
I'm eight years old, but Uncle Jimmy says that I'm older than my Dad. He's fifty-six, but please don't get me wrong, I love my Dad. According to Uncle Jimmy, Dad's an overgrown teenager. Actually, Uncle Jimmy thinks Dad's an overgrown horny teenager, but he never says that, he just thinks it. I'm taller than most of the kids my age and because my IQ is over 140, I have a good grasp of things around me. Most people think I'm twelve and are usually shocked when I tell them my real age.
I lived for over a year with Uncle Jimmy and his fourth wife, Jennifer. I was eight months old when my Mom died and my Dad apparently went bonkers. I lived with Dad until I was almost a year old, but he couldn't handle a baby, losing my mother, the pain in his bad leg and his work. It was just too much. After Uncle Jimmy found me, an eleven month old at the time, sitting one morning by my Dad, who was passed out on the floor with a bottle of Maker's Mark, he went ballistic. I can still feel the panic in Uncle Jimmy and his disappointment in my Dad. It was then that I went to live with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Jennifer. From what they say, I ran around gurgling and squealing at their wedding, causing quite a show, until my Dad corralled me and held me all through the ceremony.
I went back to live with my Dad just after my second birthday. Uncle Jimmy kept worrying about whether the rehab had worked, but he realized I needed my Dad no matter how much I loved Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Jennifer. Dad stopped taking Vicodin and now he only drinks a little. I still stay with Uncle Jimmy whenever Dad has a problem getting home on time or has to stay over at the hospital. That happens a couple times a week. Sometimes I ask to stay over at Uncle Jimmy's because I want to play with my friends in his neighborhood or I need help doing a school project. Dad's not big on making shadow boxes or paper mache.
I have to admit, I like staying with Uncle Jimmy. When I'm with Uncle Jimmy, I feel normal or as normal as someone like me can feel. I have chores at Uncle Jimmy's; I eat at the table; and he bought me a dog. My Dad insisted that the dog be called Moron because he's not the brightest tool in the tool shed, but I love him and he's lots of fun. He's a purebred Golden Retriever. My Dad says that Golden Retrievers have more inbreeding than a Jerry Lee Lewis reunion, whatever that means.
I have friends that live next door to Uncle Jimmy that I play with when I stay over. I go to the school in Uncle Jimmy's neighborhood. When I'm at our townhouse, either my Dad takes me to school or Uncle Jimmy picks me up and takes me. Once in awhile Aunt Jennifer gives me a ride. When I stay at Uncle Jimmy's, I just take the bus like everyone else.
My Dad loves me, but he's lonely for female company. He frequently imagines women naked or him kissing them. He occasionally has friends spend the night when I'm at Uncle Jimmys. But I never get to meet his female friends. He says it would cost too much for them to stay until morning so that I could meet them.
I know for a fact that my Dad loved a woman before my mother. We ran into her once when I was six. She was with her husband and they were shopping at the local mall. The husband hated my Dad. I was used to this reaction, but I wasn't used to what the woman was feeling. She wanted desperately to be with my father and I could feel that my father had similar feelings for her. When he first saw her, I could see the pain in his eyes, feel his attraction to her. But then he introduced me. He looked down into my eyes and he immediately felt a different pain. He saw my mother in me and the feelings of attraction for the woman were overwhelmed by his feelings of pain and loss. His longing for my mother was so painful that I broke out in tears right there in front of everyone. Dad immediately knew that it was his pain causing my outburst, so he deliberately focused on getting me an ice cream. We made our excuses and walked away from the woman. But I looked back and I knew when she looked into my eyes, that she was jealous of my mother. She wished I was her son. I didn't understand that then, I'm not sure I understand it now.
"Uncle Jimmy, it's perfect. You and Dad can go to the Medical Technology Advancements Convention and I can go to the Star Trek convention."
I could feel his gut reaction was no. I had to win him over. "No. You can't go by yourself to a convention."
"Uncle Jimmy, I wouldn't be alone. You and Dad could take turns taking me around the convention."
He was still unconvinced, "How are we suppose to attend a medical convention and a Star Trek convention at the same time?"
"You and Dad could take take turns and the other take notes. Come on Uncle Jimmy, it's the weekend of my birthday. Please? I won't ask for anything else."
He was melting. He nodded, "You're absolutely right that you won't be asking for anything more."
I was excited; I could feel him say yes. I also felt him get nervous, "Now we have to convince your father."
Uncle Jimmy always worried whenever he had to ask my Dad to do anything, but I didn't. My Dad always moaned and said that he wouldn't do what Uncle Jimmy asked, but rarely did he follow through on his protests. Typically, Dad ended up doing what Uncle Jimmy told him to do. I could hear Dad's wheels turning, mulling over what was asked of him. In the beginning, Dad would resist and imagine scenarios where he blew off Uncle Jimmy, but then it was as if he flicked on a switch and the logical part of his brain would take over. He would reluctantly decide that Uncle Jimmy was right.
We were in the car on our way back to our townhouse. Dad had purchased it after two years of urging by Uncle Jimmy. We moved into it a few years ago. It was three bedrooms and two baths. The living room was large enough for my Dad's piano and his ego, so I usually spent my time in my room or the kitchen, talking to my Dad.
When we walked up the steps I turned to Uncle Jimmy, "He's home and he's angry at Dr. Cuddy for something."
Uncle Jimmy looked down at me and scowled, "Maybe we should ask him another time. What's he mad at Cuddy for?"
I opened the gate and listened, "He's upset over her decision to not let him perform a brain biopsy on a little girl."
"Damn him. I told him earlier not to ask her. Well, let's go in."
We went inside and Dad was sprawled on the couch watching the National Geographic Channel. There was a show with some naked Africans dancing and painting themselves. He looked up at me, "You see that." He pointed at the television screen, "That's why God made bras."
"You don't believe in God, remember?" I said, putting down my backpack.
He looked between the two of us and frowned, "Forget it. Whatever it is, you can forget it. I'm not in the mood to deal with anything."
"Furey, I don't want to hear it." He looked up at Uncle Jimmy who was standing in his jacket, holding his car keys, "I can take him to school tomorrow; we canceled the operation."
"Yeah, I heard." Uncle Jimmy said.
My Dad looked at him strangely, "Cuddy say something?"
Uncle Jimmy nodded at me, "No, the Betazed did."
Dad looked at me and narrowed his eyes, "What did I tell you about doing that?"
"You were broadcasting. It was like a radio station on full blast. It wasn't my fault."
Dad gave me a face, "Boo hoo, stop whining."
"House, he wants to go to the Star Trek convention in San Diego for his birthday. There's a Medical Technology Convention at the same time. The whole trip would be a write-off."
"No." Dad said, shaking his head.
I opened the gate to find out what he was really thinking.
I know you're there, now stay out of my head Furey. I'm not going to some lame Trekkie convention.
But Dad! It's the weekend of my birthday and they're going to have the cast from the new movie.
Get out of my head!!!
Please Dad, please. It's all I want for my birthday I don't want anything else.
He turned and yelled at me, "I said, get out of my head!"
Uncle Jimmy held up a hand, "House, come on. Don't yell at him; he's a good kid and you know he lives, eats and breathes Star Trek. Come on, it's his birthday."
My Dad glared at me, "San Diego?"
I began to smile; I could feel him change, relax. When I grinned, he almost smiled. He held back, but I could feel his affection. Sometimes when he looked his meanest, he would really be feeling something different, like now. All I could feel was his affection, so I knew I had a good chance. Most people don't understand my Dad. They either think he is a jerk or a cruel, heartless man. But my Dad is just different. He doesn't like stupidity and he doesn't like to be wrong. He's too smart for his own good and he hates being told what to do.
Everyone says I look like him, blue eyes, tall. I have brown, wavy hair and long fingers. They say I even have some of his mannerisms when I get upset or when I'm thinking. I'm smart and everyone thinks it's because of him, but he thinks I'm smart because my mom was smart too. So I guess I got a double dose of bright.
He taught me to play the piano when I was three, the guitar when I was five. He loves it when we play together. He doesn't tell me, but he thinks I'm good. I like it when I please him; he's not someone who feels joy a lot. For some reason, I can make him laugh more than anyone else. I can also make him angrier than anyone else.
My grandmother comes out from San Diego to see us once in awhile. My grandfather died several years ago. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
He didn't smile or frown, "You better call your grandmom and let her know we're coming. She's going to want to see you while we're there."
I was so excited; I ran over and threw my arms around him. He didn't want to put his arms up and hug me in front of Uncle Jimmy, but I lifted the gate and yelled, "I love you Dad." I didn't do that too often because it always threw him for a loop. But whenever I did, he couldn't help but react. He started to laugh, grabbed me and started to give me noogies. We wrestled for a few minutes and then he gave me a quick peck on my cheek.
"Get your sorry butt in there and do your homework. We're having pizza tonight." he swatted me on the butt as I left. "Wilson, do you want to stay for dinner?"
Uncle Jimmy shook his head, "I'm going to go home and buy us Convention tickets."
"First class for us." Dad nodded at me, "He can sit in economy, he's small."