Chapter Thirteen
"I don't care what the bosoms say, Sheldon. I just want to be part of the conversation."
Howard Wolowitz (TBBT Season 2)
"The Codpiece Topology"
"Amy, you're sunburnt."
"What?" Amy, who had just returned from a rousing set of tetherball matches with Missy and Riley, looked down at her body in an effort to see what Meemaw was talking about. She'd had such a good time this afternoon she had completely forgotten about reapplying sunscreen. Sure enough, her arms and the top of her chest were already well on their way to resembling a lobster. She hadn't been uncomfortable before. But, now that the condition was brought to her attention, the heat and tightness in her skin became achingly apparent.
"It's Missy's fault," Sheldon groused, getting up from his seat next to his grandmother to examine the burns.
"Me? Why me?" Missy asked.
"Because you talked her into wearing this cloth napkin of a dress. As such, she's been practically naked all day. Plus, you kept her out in the sun for two hours playing that ridiculous game. What were you thinking?" Sheldon shot a glare at his sister. "Amy, I warned you to reapply sunscreen when we finished playing cards with the others. Why did you not comply?" He awkwardly reached out. Unsure where he should touch her, he delivered a consoling pat to her head. "Poor kid. That looks painful. I'll go get the aloe vera."
He rushed off. Missy's jaw dropped as she watched him go. Dumbfounded, she flipped around to Amy. "Girl, who was that man, and what have you done with my brother?"
Amy shrugged, wincing at the pain that movement caused. "I don't know what you mean."
"That's the most I've ever seen him care about anyone who wasn't himself or Meemaw," Missy replied. "The last time I got sunburned, he smirked and delivered a twenty-minute sermon on the dangers of deadly microwaves."
"You mean UV rays," Amy corrected.
"Whatever. That boy's got it bad for you."
Amy was thankful for the sunburn so nobody would be aware of how much Missy's statement embarrassed her. Oh, if only what she'd said was true. "Our relationship agreement contains a clause that covers illness and the like. If one of us is in need of medical assistance, first aid, or caregiving; the other is responsible for ensuring and/or providing that care. Sheldon is merely fulfilling his contractual obligation to me."
"A 'relationship agreement'? What the heck is that?"
"Missy," Meemaw interrupted, "it's getting late. Stop interrogating this girl about stuff that isn't your business. You and Riley go help with the packing up."
Missy looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn't. Instead, she grabbed her boyfriend and went off to do as she was bid. "Later," she promised Amy before they left.
Amy wasn't able to worry about the ramifications of that long.
"Honey, why don't you come over here and sit down," Meemaw invited, pointing to the chair next to her. They were in the small tent Sheldon and George had pitched for their grandmother to rest in earlier. Grateful, Amy took the offered chair, settling against it gingerly as to not aggravate her sunburn.
She took stock of her injuries. In addition to her arms below the elbow, she had blistered the entire front of her chest, from the bottom of her neck to the top of the bodice of her dress. Even the delicate skin between her bosoms was pink and irritated. "I don't know why I forgot to reapply the sunscreen," she said, disgusted with herself. "I'm usually more attentive than this."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You were having a good time. And, after the morning I heard you had, you certainly deserved it."
As Amy wasn't sure which part of the morning Meemaw was talking about, she nodded instead of making a formal reply. This movement caused an unwelcome stinging sensation where the nape of her neck met the collar of the white shrug. "Ouch. I think the nape of my neck is burned, too," she said.
"Get up and let me see," Meemaw ordered, standing up from her chair. Turning Amy away from her, she gingerly peeled back the shrug. "Oh my goodness. The sun got you here good. Let's take off your little sweater so I can get a better look."
The second the shrug was removed, a light, welcome breeze eased over her sweaty and scorched epidermis.
"Amy, I hate it for you, but you're going to be in some pain tonight. Make sure you take a cold shower when you get to the motel and reapply the aloe vera before you go to bed," Meemaw ordered.
The soothing tone of Meemaw's voice did a lot to take away the sting of the burn. But, Amy could already feel her skin swelling and knew the relief wouldn't last long. "I will. Don't worry."
As she was faced away from the main opening of the tent, she heard rather than saw Sheldon return with the aloe vera. "Goodness, Amy," he declared, obviously taking notice of her back. "You're burned on your neck too. Hold still while I put on the gel."
She closed her eyes once the coolness of the aloe was spread over her neck. As his fingers worked to coat her, Sheldon lectured her on proper skin care. Unfortunately, Amy was too preoccupied to follow what he was saying. She was caught up in the tantalizing feel of her boyfriend's hand nimbly stroking her. It was divine.
Then, she remembered they were not alone. Her eyes popped open to catch Meemaw watching her. The woman's bemused expression told her she was well aware of what Amy had been enjoying. Humiliated, Amy coughed and looked down. Great job, Fowler. Meemaw now thinks you're some kind of shameless hussy taking advantage of her innocent grandson.
"Done. Turn around so I can get your front," Sheldon voice was brusque and businesslike.
Amy did so, more so she could get away from Meemaw's x-ray stare than anything else. Sheldon started smearing the top of her chest with the same professional aloofness he'd used countless times before. As he moved down, her nipples hardened in response. Not now, endocrine system, she reprimanded herself. Meemaw is right behind you.
About the time she'd successfully reined in her own libido, however, a bigger problem presented itself. Sheldon had been dabbing aloe along the line of the bodice of her dress. Then, without warning, his fingers dipped beneath the line to coat between the valley of her breasts. She stiffened at this sudden, intimate contact and looked up at him.
Sheldon froze, seemingly unable to decide how best to deal with situation. His eyes and hand, however, remained focused on Amy's bosom, especially on the nipples plainly pressing through the fabric of the sundress.
"Give that to me," Meemaw said, holding out a hand to take the white tube of ointment. "I'll finish up. Moon Pie, why don't you go help the others pack up so we can go home?"
Sheldon gulped, unable to move or respond.
"Moon Pie? Sheldon?" Meemaw said. "Sheldon!"
Jarred by having his name yelled, he looked over at his grandmother in alarm. "Y-y-yes, ma'am. Sorry," he squeaked. He extracted his hand, tossed the gel at her, and scrambled out of the tent without another word.
Amy wasn't sure what to make of that. Sheldon's response clearly indicated sexual arousal. This was certainly a vast improvement from the time he'd applied Vaporub to her chest. The only one who had been affected then had been her. Yet, as much as this development was good news, his first real spark of sexual arousal for her had taken place in the presence of his grandmother. Thus, the resultant confusion and embarrassment Amy had expected him to feel whenever this moment came would be far worsened. This, unless she missed her guess, would mean this exciting step forward was going to be following with about three giant leaps backward.
She sighed. Which means more rejection and awkwardness from Sheldon, she thought. It seems to be the theme of this weekend.
"Amy, turn around."
Sheldon wasn't the only one dealing with confusion and embarrassment, but Amy knew it was better to just face the situation logically and head on. The humiliation always faded faster that way. So, she turned as directed and let Meemaw finish covering her burns in aloe vera.
Once Meemaw had completed her task, she capped the tube and handed it to Amy. "Take this with you. You'll need it tonight. And don't put that sweater back on. You need to let the aloe soak into your skin." Then, she moved way and began packing up her personal belongings.
"Meemaw," Amy began, trying to find the right words to explain. "I didn't mean for—"
Meemaw glanced around at her. "No need for explanations. What happened is perfectly natural for a young couple in love."
Amy tried to collect herself, but Meemaw's last statement kept replaying in her mind. Knowing there would be very little alone time with Meemaw before she and Sheldon returned to California tomorrow, she took her one chance to ask a question that had been in the back of her mind since yesterday.
"What makes you think he loves me? He's told you specifically that he doesn't."
Meemaw grinned. "Sheldon may be the smartest man in the world, but he's still a man. When it comes to men, they're all the same. The truth of their feelings is always in their eyes, especially when they look at their lady love."
Amy was puzzled. "What look? Is it the one where he tilts his head to the side and softens his smile? If so, I believe you are talking about his koala face. I assure you that has nothing to do with me. It usually indicates he is either lying or, in fact, observing koalas. He loves koalas. He also has a look he gets when watching trains. It's very whimsical, childlike and sweet. But, then again, he loves trains."
The older woman shook her head as she zipped her large, red purse closed and set it on her chair. "I doubt you've ever seen the look I'm talking about. I doubt Sheldon is even aware he's doing it. But, he does, especially when your back is turned."
Amy refused to allow her hopes to get up. Clearly, Meemaw was mistaken. She couldn't let her go around under such illusions. "When was the last time you saw this look? Was it when he found out Aunt Gladys brought cobbler? When he eats cobbler, he has this expression that could be misconstrued as lovesick. Because, you know, he really loves cobbler."
"He really loves you, honey. But, just for the tally books, he had the look when he was sitting in here with me watching you play tetherball with Missy and her boyfriend. There wasn't any cobbler, trains, or koalas around. In fact, I could barely get the boy to listen to a word I was saying because he was so focused on you," Meemaw explained.
Really? Amy thought this over for a moment before dismissing it again. She'd actually gotten excited for a minute there. But, once more, logic prevailed. "No, you misunderstood. It's because he was worried about my risking skin cancer. Sheldon is always aware of things like this."
Meemaw snorted. "Amy," she said, picking up the purse and plopping it down on the ground. "Have a seat. You and I are going to have a woman-to-woman chat."
Amy acquiesced, wondering what this could be about. Meemaw's nonverbal cues were signaling this discussion would be serious and somewhat chiding in tone, but she couldn't figure out what other social mores she could have broken in the last 60 seconds. "Yes?" she asked.
"You're a neurobiologist, which means you work mainly with the brain, right?"
"Yes."
"And, you are obviously intelligent."
Amy frowned, growing more concerned. "Yes. My IQ isn't as high as Sheldon's, of course, but I am only a few points shy of him."
"It's easy to see that you're better at picking up what's going on around you than Sheldon is. So, with all these abilities at your disposal, why do you refuse to see what's right in front of your face?"
Amy pondered this, but came up empty-handed. "I don't follow, Meemaw."
Meemaw sighed and muttered to herself. "'There are none so blind as those who will not see.'" She smiled and started again. "You're more like Moon Pie than I gave you credit for, honey. Let me put this another way. Do you love Sheldon?"
Amy swallowed hard. She'd never admitted that out loud to anyone before. Not even to Penny.
"Well?" Meemaw prompted.
"Yes."
"Good. Now, why do you think Shelly doesn't love you back?"
"It's too soon for him to be in love with me."
"Too soon?" she asked, her gray eyebrows rounding in surprise. "Haven't you been dating for over two years? Shelly's letters indicated that you have."
"Yes," Amy said, finally feeling like she was returning to solid footing in this conversation. "But, according to my relationship trajectory chart, he won't fall in love with me for another year and a half. And, even then, he'll keep the news to himself at first. Three more months will pass before he gets up the courage to vocalize his feelings to me."
Meemaw blinked, frowned, and then blinked again. "'Relationship trajectory chart'? What in the world is that?"
Amy beamed proudly. "It's the step-by-step process I've designed to plot the course of my relationship with your grandson from platonic to romantic. I have a PowerPoint presentation I could show you, but it's on my laptop back at the motel."
"Let me see if I have this straight." Meemaw paused for a bit before she spoke. "You put together a recipe book for how to seduce my grandson?"
Oh my God, she does think I'm a shameless hussy! "Seduce? No! I wouldn't do that. My intentions—I assure you—are much more honorable. I love Sheldon and plan to spend the rest of my life with him," Amy reasoned.
Meemaw bit back a smile. "I see. Am I right in assuming that this plan of yours includes marriage and children at some point?"
"Absolutely. Would you like to know the perspective date for our impending nuptials?"
"No, I think I'd rather be surprised," Meemaw said with a laugh. "Are you proposing or is he?"
"He is, of course. I am a traditionalist, after all," Amy replied.
"Of course. Glad to hear it." Meemaw took a deep breath. "Honey, I think it's wonderful that you love Sheldon and that you have put so much thought into being with him. But, speaking as his grandmother and a person who has known him his whole life, you must believe me when I tell you that boy's in love with you. Not eighteen months from now. Today."
He loves me? Amy tried to absorb this statement. But, it was like she'd been coated in a non-permeable casing. Her brain was too scattered to hold a real thought and her heart was pounding so violently in her chest that she thought she might be having a heart attack. She tried to remember to breathe, but she was too overcome with glee. She wanted to laugh and jump and dance and run and skip and fly—all at the same time. He loves me!
"But, this is way too early. I don't understand how this could have happened so quickly," she said, scrambling to make sense of all of this.
"Love doesn't work on a timetable, Amy. One minute, you're sorting through sweet potatoes. The next, you've met your soul mate. Believe me, I know."
Before Amy could reply, Sheldon, Hank, and a few of the others showed up to begin disassembling Meemaw's tent. Amy grinned at Sheldon, but he wouldn't even look at her. Her shoulders slumped in dismay. Sheldon might indeed love her, but she was going to have a heck of a time getting him to realize it, much less tell her.
"You boys about got everything ready to go?"
A chorus of "Yes, ma'ams" quickly followed. Meemaw nodded. "Sheldon, Amy is going to drive me back to the house. You follow on over with your sister when y'all get finished here, all right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sheldon croaked, keeping his gaze firmly locked on his work.
Meemaw pulled a white, lacy parasol from her purse and handed it to Amy. "Here. You'll need this to protect your skin from the sun while we walk. It's what we used to call sunscreen in my day."
Amy cracked a smile and followed the woman out of the tent. However, as they strolled to her rental car, all of her earlier elation was being overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. Between the happenings earlier and the knowledge that he loved her, Amy knew Sheldon was going to be difficult to deal with later. If he even speaks to me at all after this.
She moaned in dismay.
Meemaw put an arm around her waist, offering comfort as though she could read Amy's mind. And, after having spent the last forty-eight hours with the woman, she was beginning to believe Meemaw just might have that ability.
They continued on to the parking area this way. Amy spent the time strategizing plans on how to best deal with her boyfriend once they were alone. But, each idea seemed inherently flawed because she knew Sheldon's stubbornness and phobias were going to make an already difficult situation almost impossible. If she were in Pasadena, this would have been easier to handle. She would have given Sheldon his space, but maintained contact through Skype, email and texts. Then, by the time their next date night had come around, she would have had a failsafe way of handling him. But, being here, they would be in each other's company for most of the next twenty-four hours. Sheldon would feel cornered, which would make him panic, which would make all of this incredibly worse.
She sighed again and shook her head. "Impossible," she muttered to herself.
"You know, Amy," Meemaw said as they trudged along. "I read there used to be one large mass of land in this world instead of seven continents."
"Yes, it is thought that approximately 225 million years ago, all the current continents were assembled into a supercontinent known as Pangea. According to the theory of plate tectonics, Earth's outer shell is divided into a series of plates. These plates consist of the crust and a minor amount of the underlying mantle. The plates slide over a weak zone in the mantle at a rate of a few centimeters per year. Convection currents in the mantle—caused by the escape of heat from Earth's interior—drives the movement of these plates. Thus, over time, these slight movements have pushed the continents to their present locations," Amy explained, curious as to why Meemaw would bring this up now. "Why?"
The woman smiled and gave her a gentle squeeze. "It seems to me that if time and pressure can move mountains like that, then nothing's impossible."