Howard and Bernadette were sitting in the Wolowitz's living room, watching TV when Bernadette's phone rang. A caustic look came across her face as Howard answered it, reminding her that she was helpless. "Bernadette's phone, Howard speaking. Yeah, she's here, one sec." He pushed a button and set the phone down.

"Hello?" Bernadette asked timidly.

"Hi," a voice came through the speaker phone. "Bernadette Wolowitz?"

"Yes."

"Hi. This is Earl Berger; I have some...news. Is this a good time? I mean," he continued, as she opened her mouth to answer, "It won't be, in a few moments, but, uh...well, how are you doing?"

"I was recovering, until you said that. What's going on?"

"Um. Okay. Here's the thing. You fit in perfectly here, but we have to let you go already."

"What? Why?" Bernadette asked.

"Uh, there's a fashion show coming up, and Tiny Finies needs a perfect attendance in order to enter."

"Coming up when?"

The hesitance was brief. "In one week. I'm really sorry," he continued, as Bernadette and Howard listened. "We really enjoyed having you here."

Howard cut in. "Well, if you really enjoy it, why can't you forfeit the show?"

"Because the prize money will cover the cost of the camera she knocked over. Maybe when you've recovered, you can come back. For now you need to focus on healing, and we need to focus on our business." He disconnected without a goodbye.

Bernadette slumped in her chair. "Great," she muttered. "There goes our safety net."

Howard looked at her. "Maybe not. Do you have any rich loved ones about to kick the bucket?"

"Howard," she grumbled.

"What? It's not like saying it will make it happen."

She just glowered at him and he squirmed. "Sorry," he finally said. "Want to recline?"

"No, I'm not tired, Howie. I'm...I need to find out when my maternity leave ends."

"Alright," Howard murmured, and began scrolling through her contacts. Putting the phone to his ear he waited only a few seconds. "Hi, is this the Pasadena pharmacy? ...Hi, this is Howard Wolowitz. ...Husband, actually. I'm wondering when her maternity leave ends. ...Thanks." He disconnected and dawdled with turning off the phone.

"Well?" she finally asked.

"Three days," he said apologetically.

Bernadette sighed. "What are we supposed to do?"

Howard sighed, too. "Start checking up on all the relatives."

She looked at him.

"Fine, fine, I'll...try to make something." He thought for a moment. "How about this? A robot..."

"Howard, I know I'm in a wheelchair, but it won't last forever; it's just a broken leg!"

"Hear me out," he chuckled. "A robot with a cart attached to its hands. And sensors in its eyes. That way whenever someone tries to steal your groceries, it sounds an alarm."

"They have that alarm. It's called a voice."

Howard relented. "Fine...I'll keep thinking."