A/N: Thank you all again for your support. I appreciate all your favorites, follows, and reviews so much.

After Mrs. Fowler's revelation, Amy has a lot of questions. Will her mother be able to answer them?

xxx

Mary shook her head in disbelief. "I did not see that coming. Are you alright?" She asked Amy as they pulled away from the curb.

"I don't know. It's just so much to take in. This is the kind of situation that happens to other people. The only thing missing was a daytime talk show host."

When Amy placed the car in park in front of The Westin, Mary unbuckled her seatbelt, leaned over the console, and gave her a hug. "I'm just a phone call away if you ever need to talk."

Amy hugged her back with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. Regaining her composure, she asked, "Are you sure you wouldn't like me to drive you to the airport tomorrow?"

"Positive. I took a taxi here, and I'll take one back. I wouldn't want y'all to be missin' out on your work."

"But we hardly got to spend any time with you."

"The holidays will be here before we know it. I would love for you and Shelly to come out for Christmas."

Sheldon leaned over the seat. "Will you make your famous fried chicken and peach cobbler?"

"Of course I will; it's tradition."

"Then it's settled. We're going."

"That's the only reason you want to spend time with your family?"

"That and Meemaw's Christmas cookies."

"We'd love to come. I've never been to Texas."

"Oh, you're gonna love it."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up. It's Texas not the CERN supercollider."

Mary scowled at her son. "Never you mind the pig latin. We'll keep in touch, and I'll see you again on Jesus's birthday."

After his mother stepped out of the car, Sheldon climbed into the front seat. They waved then drove the short distance to the apartment, discussing the events of the last few hours.

When they reached the fourth floor landing, they temporarily ceased their conversation so the residents of 4B wouldn't overhear. They had promised her mother her disclosure would not leave the room, and even though Amy was dying to tell her bestie, she intended on keeping her promise.

Sheldon threw his keys in the bowl then headed for the kitchen. "You're upset, so I'm going to make you some tea."

"We had tea earlier. It's been a long and stressful day. I just want to curl up and talk before bedtime."

"It's not optional. I'll make you sleepytime tea to calm your nerves."

Amy smiled and shook her head at her fiancé's quirky ways. "Can't argue with that logic."

Minutes later with tea cups in hand, she snuggled up to him on the couch. He rested his head on hers as they blew the steam from their drinks.

"I still can't get over what my mom did. I never in a million years would have guessed she was keeping such a massive secret."

"Like you said at the cabin 'We all have a past.'"

"All I did was push some buttons in an elevator. This is huge."

"I admit I was not expecting that either, but it's a good thing."

"How is sleeping with someone you just met and never seeing him again a good thing?"

He set his mug down carefully on a coaster and looked her in the eye. "If she hadn't done it, there would be no you."

"Aww... Sheldon."

"My life would be so different had we not met."

"Different in a good way?" She teased.

He shook his head in the negative. "Until you entered my life, I was only existing. You're like the dryer sheets of my heart. You've made me a better person."

Amy set her half empty mug next to his. "Come here." She pulled his head down and caught his lips with hers.

They finished their tea then went about their nightly rituals. Sheldon lifted the corner of the comforter as Amy climbed in next to him.

"Goodnight." He kissed her gently then lay his head on his pillow.

"Sheldon?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think about us having children?"

He sat back against his pillow and peered down at her. "Sometimes. Mostly I just think about how any progeny of ours would be superiorly-intelligent human beings. Why? You're not pregnant, are you?"

She sat up higher so they were eye level. "No, I'm not, but when and if we ever do have children, I don't want them to be afraid to come to us with questions or problems, and I want them to know the story of where they came from."

"You want to tell them the details of their conception?"

"No, of course not." When she noted he breathed a sigh of relief, she continued. "I want them to know our story - how we met."

"You want to tell them we met against our will?"

"You're impossible."

"I think you meant to say I'm improbable..."

"Sheldon, can we get back on topic?"

"Fine."

"I want them to know a dating site scientifically chose you as my perfect mate, and we met at a coffee shop and hit it off. They don't need to know all the details, but we would honestly answer their questions."

"Sounds reasonable."

"And there will no sin closet. I want to parent more like your mom. I'm picturing a 10-year-old you sitting at a dining room table holding a grilled cheese sandwich with a smiley face cut into it and a cup of hot cocoa."

"My mom really did know how to make me feel better. Well, except when she dragged me to church. You're not going to force us to church?"

"No, silly. I don't wish to be exactly like your mom. I'd just like to apply the best parts."

"Good," he yawned and slid back down to a prone position.

"Sheldon?"

"I thought we were going to sleep."

"We are. I just... All I know about my father is that he has green eyes, is funny and charming, and watched Charlie's Angels. What kind of person is he? What does he do for a living? Does my mother even know his name? Is he still alive?"

"Sometimes not knowing can be a good thing. Think of your father as Schrodinger's cat."

"That he's both alive and dead?"

"That and whether or not he's a good or bad person. I knew my father and wish I hadn't. As you know, he was an alcoholic who was dumb as a sack of rocks. Most of the time he pretended I didn't exist, and he cheated on my mom."

And rested her head on his chest. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't have a perfect childhood either."

He stroked her hair. When his hand stilled and his breathing slowed, she nestled into the covers, but sleep eluded her.

"Sheldon?"

"Amy, go to sleep," he mumbled.

"There's just one more quick thing I want to discuss, then I promise I'll let you sleep."

He turned his head towards her. "I know I gave you sleepytime tea. Why isn't it working?"

"My mind is working overtime. No amount of sleepytime tea can counteract that," she reasoned. "I just realized something. My mother's timeline is off. Let's say she left for college in August. That's only four months before my birthday. There is no way I could have survived such a short pregnancy."

"I caught that right away but didn't want to make a scene. Why don't you ask her about it?"

"Maybe I'll see if she's free for lunch tomorrow."

"Good. Goodnight."

"Night."

Sheldon rolled onto his side, his back facing her. Amy snuggled up next to him and closed her eyes. Within a few minutes, she heard his familiar snoring. She kissed his pajama-clad shoulder then flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

xxx

Joan Fowler met her daughter in the Caltech parking lot at 11:30 a.m. the following day. "I'm surprised you wanted to see me two days in a row. We normally don't even talk two weeks in a row."

"I know. I want us to have a better relationship."

Amy guided her mother towards the cafeteria. Food-laden trays in hand, they entered the dining area. As it was 20 minutes before the big lunch rush, there were plenty of empty tables to choose from. They ultimately selected a corner table.

Joan surveyed her soundings. "Where's Sheldon? Will he be joining us?"

"He asked if he should be here for moral support, but I wanted just the two of us to meet."

"I'm sorry we haven't had the best relationship. I tried protecting you from the world, and instead I alienated you."

"Why didn't you tell me about my father sooner?"

"It's not the kind of thing you want to admit to your child or anyone."

"I suppose not," Amy agreed. "You never mentioned his name. Did he tell you?"

Joan nodded. "His first name is Lowell. We never got around to exchanging last names."

"That's an unusual name. Did he mention any siblings?"

"He was the youngest of four and the only boy."

"Was he going back home to Boston or leaving California for Boston?"

"Going back home to Boston. He had a New England accent."

They took a few minutes to dig into their food before Amy spoke again. "What else can you tell me about him?"

Joan took another bite of her burger and chewed thoughtfully. "He told me he played the clarinet. His parents forced him to join the school's marching band. He thought about rebeling by not practicing, but the perfectionist in him prompted him to master it."

"Did he happen to mention the school's name?"

Joan shook her head sadly. "He didn't say and I didn't ask. I wish I had.

Amy decided to streer the topic away from her father for the time being. They discussed Thanksgiving plans as they finished their lunch. Amy and Sheldon had tickets to the aquarium again then planned to share dinner with their friends. Joan would be spending the day at her sister's in Bakersfield.

"I would like to have a small celebration at my house on the Saturday or Sunday after Thanksgiving if you and Sheldon are available."

Amy chewed the last bite of her sandwich and washed it down with a sip of bottled water. "I'll ask Sheldon if he has a preference."

They carried their trash to the receptacle and placed their empty trays on top.

"This was nice. I hope you'll invite me again."

"Do you have time to check out my lab before you have to get back to work?"

"I would love to. I called in to tell them I wasn't coming in today, so I have plenty of time. I had a rough night."

"Me too," Amy admitted. "Poor Sheldon. I don't think he got much sleep with me tossing and turning all night."

"Did he stay the night to comfort you?"

Amy realized her slip-up. "Since we're being honest with each other, there's something I should tell you. Sheldon and I have unofficially moved in together. I've been sleeping at his apartment nearly every night for the last month."

"I see," Joan replied noncommittally.

Amy silently guided her mother to the biology wing. Joan inspected the multiple cages lining the far wall of her daughter's work space. "What are you doing with all these mice?"

"I'm measuring their brain wave activity."

"For what?"

Amy's mouth went dry. "I'm studying the effects orgasm has on the brain."

Joan paled and grabbed onto the countertop for balance.

"I was feeing bad for those poor monkeys, so I moved on to a study where my test subjects' brains would remain intact."

When her mother recovered, she took her on a tour of the rest of the department. Their last stop was a room equipped with various devices, each featuring multiple buttons and electrodes.

"This is the room the neurobiology department uses to store our shared devices. We have a log book for each piece of equipment to track when we borrow it and when we return it." She pointed out each device and went into detail about what function each performed and how to use it.

Joan studied the last machine. "Is this a polygraph?"

Amy looked at the piece in disdain. "Oh, yes. A good old fashionned lie detector. I've been told it's been here since the '60s. Many psychologists agree they can't acurately detect lies, and I concur."

"Have you used it in any if your studies?"

Amy scoffed. "No, but a couple of my colleagues and I tried it out on each other. The results were, to quote Sheldon, 'complete hocum'."

The sound of her fiancé's signature triple knock moments later nearly made her jump out of her skin. "Sheldon, what are you doing here?"

"I came by your lab to make sure lunch with your mother went well. Dr. Chen said she saw you go in here. Oh, h...hello M...Mrs. Fowler," he stammered.

"Amy was just showing me all the contraptions her department uses in their research studies."

His eyes followed hers to the polygraph machine. "You know those don't produce accurate results?"

"Amy told me you refer to them as 'complete hocum'."

"And how. Apparently body language is a much better indicator, although I still struggle with that. Amy's gotten so good at it that she could predict Ricky the monkey's next move before he made it."

Joan turned to her daughter. "That is amazing!"

Amy was surprised by the compliment. "Thank you."

"She's pretty good at reading people, too. Since it appears that you two are getting along, I should get back to my boards. It was good to see you again, Mrs. Fowler. Amy, I'll see you after work."

When the two women were alone once again, Amy confronted her mother, "Getting back to the topic of lying, as I contemplated your revelation last night, I realized something was off."

"Everything I told you was the absolute truth."

"Was it? Because something literally doesn't add up?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Amy watched her mother closely. "You told me you met my father on a plane on your way to Harvard."

"That's right."

The younger woman willed herself not to blink as she watched her mother for telltale signs of lying. "Okay, then how do you explain this? School starts in September, correct?"

"Yes."

"I was born in December, right?"

"Yes. Where are you going with this?"

"September to December is three months. It would be medically impossible to give birth to a baby who could survive outside the womb after such a short a time span."

"I see where your confusion is. It's true that I left California for Harvard. What I didn't tell you is that I was accepted to Harvard a year earlier. A month before I was set to leave, your Grandpa Martin died unexpectedly. Grandma was so distraught that I decided to wait until the following year to move across the country."

Satisfied that her mother exhibited no signs of deception, she followed up with another question. "I still don't buy it. Even if you put off college for another year, the timeline month-wise wouldn't change."

"I was going to move to Boston in August, but your Aunt Florence and Aunt Doe were constantly bickering over Grandpa's belongings. They were at the house all the time trying to get me to take sides, but I refused. I couldn't take it anymore, so I moved in March of 1982- nine months before you were born."

Amy's eyes traveled over her mother's features. She appeared weary and a little melancholy, but nothing in her body language indicated she was being untruthful. "I believe you."

"Amy, you have every reason not to trust me. I was secretive about my past, and it's driven a wedge between us. I promise I will never keep anything from you again."

"Thanks, Mom. And I'll try to be more open with you, too."

Tears glistened in Joan's eyes. "You called me Mom. You've never called me Mom. Even as a little girl, I was always Mother to you."

"You're right. I guess I feel closer to you now that we're being honest with each other."

"I have something else I feel you should know."

Amy eyed her warily. "You have another bombshell to drop on me?"

"No. No more big secrets. What I want to say is that I am so proud of you. You have grown into a beautiful, intelligent woman, and I'm proud to call you my daughter."

Now it was Amy's turn to shed some tears. The two women embraced before she escorted her mom back to her car.