Chapter Thirty-Five: Persuasion

I'm going to kill him.

Sheldon Cooper knew he wasn't crazy—his mother had had him tested, after all—but even his doctor-certified sanity could only withstand so much. And, standing here in the living room of the aunts' Victorian home surrounded by people he barely knew while his girlfriend was being blatantly flirted with by a brown-eyed electrician with the IQ of a sand flea, Sheldon knew he had reached the limit of rationality. Then when said dim-witted electrician dared touch his girlfriend's shoulder, all rationality left the building and was replaced with one, echoing thought.

Yep. Definitely going to kill him.

"You can't kill him."

He turned to the man who'd come up next to him. "What? What was that?"

Dooley grinned. "Jason Wilhelm. You want to kill him. You've been standing here for the last ten minutes glaring at the man while mumbling his name while he's been all over your girlfriend. Stands to reason you'd want to gut the guy. After all, Evelyn seems to be doing everything in her power to get him with Amy. She did the same thing when Em brought me home the first time. Kept trying to get her to notice some guy from the library where she works. Even invited him to dinner. It was all I could do not to go across the table at the dude." Dooley shook his head and laughed. "It's actually a compliment, if you think about it. Evelyn only does it to the truly worthy guys."

After making this ridiculous comment, Amy's brother-in-law patted him on the back. While Sheldon did not normally condone people he didn't know unnecessarily touching him, he couldn't help but admit that the action had the interesting side effect of calming him down. That is, until Jason leaned in close to whisper something in Amy's ear and she responded by giggling as though it were the best joke in the world.

"I should have thrown her over my shoulder and got out of here when I had the chance," he muttered. If it hadn't been for Amy all but ordering him to return to his seat and promising to explain everything later, he certainly would have. Now, he was reconsidering the decision.

"Now that would have been an interesting thing to watch. But, in the end, not a smart way to go, my friend."

Sheldon turned back to Dooley, who handed him a drink. He took it, surveying the amber liquid through the short glass. So this is what it had come down to? Amy's laugh crossed the room and fairly slapped him in the face. Yep, he thought, tossing the drink down his throat. He winced in preparation for the throat-burning he knew was coming. Surprisingly, it didn't. "What was that?"

"Apple juice."

That explained the lack of sting as well as the fact that he'd liked the taste. "Oh, OK. Yes. Of course. Thank you."

Dooley shrugged. "It always makes me feel better. Besides, you strike me as a lightweight in the alcohol department. " He held out a hand. "I'm Dooley, by the way. Emily's husband."

Sheldon shook his hand. "I know. We met earlier. Do you not remember?"

"Of course I do. But you met a lot of people today. It can get confusing."

"I have an eidetic memory."

"What is that?"

"It means I have the ability to perfectly recall images, sounds, and/or objects with which I have come into contact."

"Wow. Cool," Dooley said. "Well, I figured it might be good for the two of us to get to know each other better."

"I already know you. You're a private pilot in Boston, father to two children, and you dabble in glass blowing on the side."

He grinned. "Amy tell you about that?"

"Yes. She also showed me the pictures you posted on Facebook. You like to use a lot of colors."

"Lily likes rainbow. I like to make her happy whenever I can. I also use pink for Emily and lots of blue for Mike. But it's Lily who really likes what I do."

Sheldon nodded, turning back to look at his girlfriend, who had been joined by Harper. Jason had taken up post between the two women and seemed in his element as he flirted with both of them. Sheldon gritted his teeth. "I don't care what she said. I should have gotten Amy out of here."

"And play right into Evelyn's hands? I told you. Bad idea."

Sheldon frowned at the man at his side. "Even now, we could have been on the road back to her apartment instead of having to endure this. Seems like an excellent idea to me." He shook his head, mumbling to himself. "Did I somehow cross over into alternate dimension? One would think one would notice if one had done so, but what other explanation could there be? Why is Amy going along with all of this? Has she been brainwashed? Is she a pod person? What is the cause of this?"

"Evelyn Fowler. And, from the way she's been acting, I'd say you have got the old girl running scared."

Sheldon looked over to where Mrs. Fowler was reigning supreme over the dinner party. She mingled her way through the group, stopping by her youngest daughters and Jason to share a laugh. Her scared? Hardly. Smug as all get out? Absolutely.

"Running scared? What do you mean? She's winning. She has transformed my once-beautiful girlfriend into someone I don't recognize. Her clothes are wrong—"

"I think Amy's dress is nice."

"It's wrong. Amy doesn't dress like that." He leaned in to hiss. "I saw her bosoms!"

Dooley chuckled. "From what I heard, it wasn't the first time."

Sheldon blushed furiously and looked away.

"I'm just kidding, man. Calm your jets." Dooley nudged him with his elbow. "Look, you're a tall guy, Sheldon, I'm sure from your height you see a lot of things others can't. But, for us average men, she is more than covered up. Besides, Evelyn would never let her daughter go out dressed less than proper. She and Harper fight about that all the time."

Sheldon's eyes roved over Amy's eggplant-colored outfit again. He supposed Dooley was right. It wasn't that revealing. The neckline was more demure than he'd previously considered, but it still hugged her body and left little to the imagination in terms of her figure—a figure no man should be privy of knowing existed except for him.

"But her hair. She doesn't look like herself. And, she's wearing make-up. More than any woman ever should. More than she should. I want Amy to look like Amy. I like the way she normally looks."

"Women wear cosmetics, and they change their hair. It's what they do. And, I assure you, she's wearing a lot less make-up than Harper is. Again, Evelyn's not going to allow her girls to go out looking trashy. I think you just think it's a lot because Amy usually only wears a minimal amount. It's all about perception. Plus, you're about half-eaten by jealousy. That isn't helping. Freaking out will only give Evelyn the advantage. I told you, you've got to calm down."

"Calm down? My woman is being dressed up and thrown at some other man, and you expect me to simply calm down?"

"Yeah, I do." Dooley stared at him long and hard. "You're the guest in this house. Don't ever forget that. You might hate Evelyn, but this isn't her house. It's the aunts'. They're your advantage."

"Advantage? How?"

"They like you."

"They do?"

"They do. And they're a tough sell."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. It took me years and one embarrassing shower to get as far as you have in their good graces. They hate Bruce."

"They do?"

"Oh yeah." Dooley nodded solemnly. "Dude is going down. He just doesn't know it yet."

"But he's marrying Harper tomorrow."

Dooley shrugged again. "The aunts don't like him. He's toast. Just you watch. When it comes to things like this, they're always victorious."

Sheldon looked over to where Bruce was nodding off on one end of the couch, his parents on the opposite side of him talking to Grandmother Fowler, Mr. Fowler, and Willard. Aunt Dora was over by the bookcase, talking to Lily and Mike. The two bridesmaids were laughing with the two groomsmen, standing next to a little table full of drinks. Aunt Cora was, at last look, in the kitchen with Emily finishing up dinner preparations. Except for him, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Certainly no one seemed to be plotting to get rid of the bridegroom.

"I don't—"

Dooley held up a hand. "Just watch, and you'll see."

"Here you go, dear," Aunt Cora interrupted, handing Sheldon another drink and taking his empty glass. She patted him on the shoulder as she walked past. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes or so. Dooley, Emily is looking for you."

"On my way," Dooley said. He leaned in to whisper to Sheldon. "You're a good man, Sheldon. Anyone can see that. It's also pretty obvious you and Amy make each other happy. So, if you care about your girlfriend, if she's important to you, you'll support her this weekend however she asks."

"Her actions make no sense."

"Women's actions rarely do."

Sheldon smiled. "My father used to say that."

"Sounds like a smart man."

He consider this a moment before shaking his head. "Nope, he was dumber than a pile of rocks—or so my mother always said."

Dooley laughed. "You're going to fit in just fine around here. The welcome is a little rough, but once you get past that, this family's as good as gold." And, with one last clap on Sheldon's shoulder, Dooley left in search of his wife in the kitchen.

Sheldon examined the scene before him. It wasn't that bad he supposed. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Fowler and her endless litany of underhanded behavior, he might have been able to enjoy himself. But he couldn't. Ever since he'd seen Amy in the church, even since she'd ordered him to remain on his best behavior and to return to his seat, he'd grown more and more uneasy. There was something really wrong here, and he had no idea what it was or how to fix it. He only knew he felt like if he didn't do something to intervene soon, he was going to lose the woman he loved. That was something he refused to allow to happen. He'd come so close to that only a few days ago, he wasn't ever getting that close again. What if her mother had somehow persuaded Amy to break up with him again? How could he combat that?

Amy had promised an explanation, but had so far not delivered. Mrs. Fowler seemed intent on keeping them apart. She even went so far as to arrange for him to ride back with the aunts—or in what he'd been mentally calling the "van of death." Meanwhile Amy, who he'd been told would be riding back with her mother and sisters, actually turned up in Jason's car. When Sheldon had tried to drag her off to a private area to talk, she'd chided him for his temper and once again promised him an explanation—later.

Now, here it was nearly an hour later, and he was no closer to understanding what was going on here than he had been when he'd been at the church. To his mind, things could not get any worse.

"Sheldon, would you mind stepping into the study for a few minutes? I thought we could chat."

He stiffened at the voice and turned to see Amy's father standing behind him. The older man stared back, a pronounced frown on his face as he made an inviting gesture towards a room in the back.

Sheldon took it back. This was worse. Much, much worse.