Thank you in advance for your reviews!
The Fowler Cooper Publication Federation
May 2020
Primary Topic: The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
Additional book(s) mentioned: The Elements: A Visual Exploration of Every Known Atom in the Universe by Theodore Gray & Nick Mann, On a Beam of Light: The Story of Albert Einstein by Jennifer Berne, Tiny Titans by Art Balthazar & Franco, and The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks
Scanning Facebook on her computer, Amy had heard Sheldon and Ada return to the great room from her bath, but she wasn't really paying attention. Her least favorite household chore finally finished, she was enjoying looking at the new baby pictures of Frances that Penny had posted a couple of hours ago, treating herself to a few minutes of peace. ("Really? Fenny and Frannie? That's what they want us to call their children?" Sheldon had shook his head when the news came. "Hollywood has made her even softer in the brain than I previously thought.")
Ever since Amy had agreed to a change in the schedule, shortly before Ada's second birthday, Ada almost always spent this half-hour before bed with her father. Sheldon was usually informing her on something, either shapes and numbers at the table, little songs on her toy xylophone, or looking through that new book he bought her, The Elements. Sometimes, Amy would join in, either because she was asked to or because they looked like they were having so much fun together or - most importantly to her - to lighten things up, so that Sheldon's "information" sessions didn't turn into school.
"But, Amy," he had argued, "it's clearly not school. I'm not a teacher. I don't see what's wrong with instructing her on something new, setting up little tests - I won't call them that, if you like - correcting her when she's wrong, and keeping track of her scores."
"Sheldon," she had sighed, "let her be a child, for goodness sake. She's two. Playing in a fun way that imparts new information, casually and for her enjoyment, I am completely in favor of that. Pedantic lessons, with a test, even a test called something else, I am strongly opposed to."
"But she could be a genius, and we'll never know because you won't allow testing."
"There will plenty of time for tests and advanced placement - if needed - later. Right now she is my baby. My little girl. Let me have her for another three years, please," she pleaded.
"Advanced placement! So you've also noticed -"
When it just used to be Sheldon saying it, she could pretend it was wishful thinking. But lately . . . . Amy had sighed again. She put her hand up to stop him mid-sentence. "She could just be verbally advanced. Verbal cognition at this age is not necessarily indicative of future intelligence. Einstein didn't even speak until he was four."
"But think if he had! She could be smarter than Einstein! I should start teaching her to read! And relativity!"
"No." It was firm. "Three years, Sheldon. Three more years."
"But -"
"I said no." She had fixed her steely gaze upon him, the one she reserved for the most important issues.
He had looked at her for a moment, and she stared back, refusing to blink even when her eyes started to ache. Finally he threw up both his hands, mumbled "Fine," and gave his sound of disgust as he left the room. Amy let her shoulders drop. She knew it was also his sound of defeat; but, somehow, she suspected this particular issue was bound to resurface in the future.
Tonight, though, she couldn't quite tell what they were doing, and it was this uncertainly that pulled her back from the baby pictures. There were rummaging sounds in the living room, Ada's high-pitched voice, Sheldon's deeper voice, but no clear words. Curious, Amy was just about to go investigate, when Ada came sliding around the corner to her.
"Mama, look! I'm wearing Daddy's socks!"
Amy turned and laughed. Not just at the sight of Ada in her pajama shirt, her days-of-the-week underwear, and a pair of Sheldon's socks pulled up high above her knees, as though they were leggings; but that it was such a normal childish thing to do.
"Ada! How did you get your father's socks? And where are your pajama pants?" Amy asked, putting her arms out for Ada to crawl up into her lap.
"I was going to show her how to properly fold laundry at the coffee table as a practical geometry exercise, but she was far more interested in matching my socks than the FlipFold," Sheldon explained, coming around the corner himself.
"Well, that's fun, right?" Amy said, trying to gauge Sheldon's opinion of the change in syllabus and if she needed to inform him of what his opinion should be. "Matching things is important, too. Besides," she leaned down closer to Ada and put her finger on her knee, "Daddy's socks are educational. Who is this?"
"I don't know," Ada answered.
"I was just about to tell her, before she came running in here. Of course, she would insist on putting on the tallest pair!" Sheldon said.
Amy smiled up at him. It had become a habit of hers to pick up a pair of zany socks anywhere she saw some he would like. How was she to know these particular socks were knee socks, even on her tall husband? "That's Albert Einstein."
Ada nodded. "I like his hair."
Sheldon actually gripped his chest, and Amy chuckled at his overreaction. "Yes, he has fun hair, doesn't he? But he's also a very important scientist. I'm sure there's a book or a website Daddy knows about he can show you if you like."
"Show me, Daddy!" Ada jumped down and raced toward Sheldon.
"Did you know Einstein didn't say a single word until he was four -" Sheldon started.
"Wait!" Amy stopped them as they turned. "Sheldon, are you not wearing shoes? Just your socks?"
"Ada wanted to see them. I did get to explain the Rubik's Cube to her before she became fixated on the pair she's wearing."
Suddenly, smiling at the two of them, Amy was struck by inspiration. "Let me take a picture. Maybe for Instagram."
Sheldon sighed. "Ada, there was a glorious time in the past when you mother's Instagram account consisted of monkeys, brain dissections, and out of focus pictures of me, taken from afar. Because she knew I didn't like it. Now, we're the monkeys, forced to pose for her amusement." Despite this protest, he had lifted Ada up while he spoke and put her much smaller feet on top of his. "Like this? From above? That's an artistic angle."
"It's perfect," Amy replied, standing and taking the picture with her phone from above. He was correct, it was very artistic. Then they were off, sliding back into the great room together, Sheldon talking about Einstein. Next she heard the sliding of one of the white boards and the uncapping of the marker. ". . . relativity . . . " she made out.
Remembering something she had seen once, Amy did a quick search on Amazon. She needed an age appropriate source before Sheldon started making this too exact. Physics did that to him. Ah, there it was. She purchased it and had it sent to Sheldon's iPad in less than a minute. She heard the chime from around the corner.
"Oh, look at this, Ada," she heard Sheldon interrupt himself. "It appears that your mother sent us a book. On a Beam of Light: The Story of Albert Einstein. Knowing her as I do, I suspect she believes this is what I should read to you. Should we save it for before bed?"
"No, read it now!" Ada demanded.
Amy chuckled at the two of them as Sheldon started to read. Crisis averted, as her husband and her daughter settled into a normal preschool activity, Amy turned her attention back to her photo from earlier. She selected a filter and typed her caption before posting:
My two brainiacs, sharing their love of crazy socks. And Einstein. #daddyisasoftieafterall
When she returned to the living room less then a hour hour later, Ada finally asleep after she insisted that Mama read the new Einstein book again, two steaming mugs of tea were already resting on the dining table and her Kindle was there, too. Sheldon was waiting.
"Look who's eager for Book Club!" Amy cheered, coming to take her seat. It looked so blissful: her husband, a comforting cup, some quiet time after a busy evening that she had spent cleaning the bathrooms, which was her least favorite chore.
"I'm always eager," he shrugged. "Is she still wearing my socks?"
"We struck a bargain. She can sleep in them tonight but she cannot wear them as leggings to school tomorrow," Amy explained, reaching for her tea.
"I suppose that's fair," Sheldon replied. "So, Remains of the Day?"
"I'm eager for Book Club, too, but first we need to talk about the email from Rajesh. I know you read it; I could tell by your face." Their phones had chimed in perfect unison earlier, just as they were about to sit down for dinner, and it was unusual enough they both paused to read their new email.
"Yes. But I know what you're going to say -" Sheldon started.
"You do?" Amy asked.
"- plus you're going to be smug and self-satisfied for at least two weeks about it."
"I am?" Amy's mug of tea stopped half-way to her mouth.
Sheldon raised an eyebrow. "You can't act coy with me. I knew exactly what you were up to. I always know what you're up to. Just like sending that book earlier."
Amy wrinkled her brow. "And what exactly was that? And when was I up to whatever I was up to? This is the first I've heard of it. Not the book, this other mystery thing."
"I saw what you were doing with your little dinner party."
The mug went forcefully down on the table. "Really, Sheldon, you have to explain whatever this is you're talking about." She shook her head. What was Sheldon going on about? They were supposed to be discussing Raj's email, the question he had asked them.
Sheldon sighed loudly. "So it was all a coincidence that you invited Raj and Stuart over to dinner with Faisal and Oliver when they were here visiting from London?"
"Oh." Amy shook her head slightly. "I invited Raj and Stuart over because Oliver owns an antique store. I thought Oliver and Stuart both might appreciate having someone with which to discuss the joys and trials inherent to being a self-employed shop owner. The rest of us are scientists, and that has to get boring for Stuart sometimes."
"Really? Is that all?"
"Okay, yes, it did occur to me that they are both same-sex couples, and they might enjoy having that in common, too. Is that what you're getting at?"
Sheldon crossed his arms. "But one of those couples is monogamous and owns a home together. And then, three months later, guess who are moving in together? The other couple!"
Amy huffed. "Sheldon, this is a big step for Raj and Stuart. Are you upset about it for some reason? Or are you still jealous about Faisal and me?"
"Faisal?" Sheldon snorted. "As if I could ever be jealous of your beard."
She couldn't help herself, she started to giggle. "It's the other way around. I was his beard."
"Oh." Sheldon deflated. But his pitiful face broke the building tension.
Amy reached out to put her hand on his arm. "In all seriousness, we need to discuss this and give Rajesh a reply. I'm sure timing is important."
"It's not as though we can stop them," he grumbled.
"I'm glad you realize that. They don't have to ask our permission to move in downstairs. Honestly, I think they're being overly considerate. Tell me what's bothering you."
"It's not bothering me, not really. It's just that . . . well, I can't seem to get away with living in a building without any of my friends, can I?" Sheldon looked down, pouting at his tea.
Amy smiled, knowing full well there was time, a very long period of time, in which Sheldon thought he couldn't live without his friends next door or even in the same apartment. "The unit for sell is two floors down on the opposite side of the building. It's not like they'll be our direct neighbors. I'm sure they won't invade our privacy if we don't invade their's."
Sheldon sighed softly. "No, you're right. I don't really mind. It's just . . . first Friday nights and now this. But I suppose there could be advantages."
"Like a babysitter in the same building?" Amy asked.
"I hadn't thought of that!" Sheldon looked up, cheered. "I was thinking of comic book delivery."
Laughing, Amy said, "You do know that taking advantage of them is just as bad as invading their privacy, don't you?"
"It's not taking advantage if Stuart is going to be driving from the comic book store to this exact address, anyway. There's even a functional elevator. He won't break a sweat," Sheldon protested.
"So you won't be taking Ada to the store anymore?" Amy asked, hiding her smirk in a drink.
Sheldon sat up straighter. "You make an excellent point. It is very important to expose our genius to any and all examples of the written English language. It's important for her future academic success."
"Indeed," Amy said with a smile. She knew nothing would keep Sheldon from taking Ada to the comic book store as long as Ada wanted to go. Ada had not yet shown any interest in the train set or the Duplos, but Amy didn't know whose smile was bigger when they came home with the newest issue of Tiny Titans. "I'll write back when we're done with Book Club." She paused. "I'm not sure who can take credit for picking this book."
"As I recall, it arose organically in conversation while you were watching your Downton Abbey Blu-ray. The scene at the end of season four, when Mr. Carson asks Mrs. Hughes to marry him. We discussed other pieces of film and literature in the same vein, such as Gosford Park, and we discovered neither of us had read this book," Sheldon explained.
"Yes, I know how we choose it. Just because my memory is not eidetic does not mean it's faulty." Amy rolled her eyes. "It was a rhetorical question."
Sheldon shrugged. "I don't get those."
"Which reminds me of something I thought you might enjoy about this book." Amy reached for and opened her Kindle. "One of the less important . . . motifs was that Mr. Stevens is completely unable to understand witticisms."
Sheldon put his forefinger up in protest. "I'm not completely unable to understand witticisms. I've known Howard for years now. But Stevens makes an excellent point, that it's very difficult to reply in kind because there is so little time to assess all the possible meanings and repercussions before speaking. I have a lot of respect for him that he decides to study it and practice it. Sounds like a very scientific approach."
"So you liked Stevens?" Amy prompted.
"Yes. I liked that he was thorough, precise, careful, and dedicated to doing the best job possible, to being a leader in his field. Even if that field was bultering."
"But to the detriment of his own emotional happiness. Miss Kenton calls him out for it -" Amy looked down to find what she was looking for "- here: 'Why, Mr. Stevens, why, why why do you always have to pretend?' He doesn't see her, not really, even though she's right in front of him. Even in the present, as he's writing about the events of twenty years before, he's completely unable to actually say what he means. He never admits that he regrets his actions, not really; he always has an excuse for them, like he was busy or called away. And he still claims that all of his interest is purely professional. But it's not. He's thought about her for decades, he rereads her letter almost every day, it seems, as he drives across a country to see her. Here, near the end, Mr. Cardinal says to him 'You're not curious. You just let all this go on before you and you never think to look at it for what it is.'"
Sheldon cooked his head. "I thought that was a reference to Lord Darlington, how he gradually came to be a Nazi sympathizer because of the people he associated with; he didn't realize it was happening, perhaps, until it was too late. And that Mr. Stevens, because he was so loyal to Lord Darlington, didn't see it, either."
"I think it has two meanings. The one you mention, yes, but also about his relationship with Miss Kenton." Amy took a drink of her tea.
Her husband didn't speak for a moment, looking lost in thought. "So you're saying the story with Miss Kenton was more important than the story about Lord Darlington?" he asked at last.
"No. They were both about someone being an ostrich with their head firmly in the sand, although in different ways. Lord Darlington starts out meaning well. He has been to Germany shortly after World War I and he sees what the Treaty of Versailles is doing to that country: hyperinflation, food shortages, devastation. So he starts out wanting to do the right thing, to stop this provision of war - that still remains controversial even today - so that Germany can get back on its feet. But he's too trusting, too malleable, he doesn't realize what road he's being led down as the years go by."
"But you think that Stevens is being purposely oblivious? Because of what he says about his job, that it is critical to 'not abandon the professional being he inhabits'?" Sheldon leaned forward slightly at the table.
"Exactly. He uses the word dignity - which I think is a valuable word and he often uses it correctly, he defines it very well - but he uses it as an excuse and crutch. His job is his mask." Amy leaned forward, as well, unknowingly mirroring Sheldon's interest.
"And you think he was in love with Miss Kenton all along, but purposely oblivious to that also? It seemed to me that he was more annoyed and frustrated with her." Sheldon took a drink.
"At first, he was. Because she was the only one brave enough to point out to him that his father was suffering from dementia and the physical effects of advanced age. Stevens is a very proud, vain man and that extends to the those he cares about. So he was offended by her, at first, because he thought that she was saying negative things about his father."
Sheldon tilted his head again. "But then gradually, over time, he fell in love with her? Even though they never expressed any word of affection, at all, even though there weren't any physical displays of attraction or even what might be called flirting?"
Smirking, Amy replied, "Well, Sheldon, not every man can be as suave and sophisticated as you were in the art of wooing."
"Obviously."
Unable to hide it any longer, Amy burst out laughing. She saw Sheldon's face fall slightly, and she touched his hand lightly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Despite my teasing, there's a grain of truth there: you did slowly start to include displays of affection and flirting with me. Painfully slowly, as I recall, but still on a gradual incline."
"There were times I felt like Sisyphus," Sheldon muttered.
Amy chuckled. "But, as for the book, you're correct. There were no outward signs of romantic or sexual attraction. I think their love grew from an affair of the mind. They were friends first, in very similar professions so they could discuss that common ground, they enjoyed each other's company at the end of the day, over a hot beverage . . ." Amy lifted her mug of tea up in a mini-salute and then took a drink.
"Amy," Sheldon shifted in his chair, "did you ever consider an affair of the mind for us? Do you think we could have gotten married or just been roommates and lived the rest of our lives that way, without . . . " He waved his hand around.
"Sex? Love?" Amy asked. "No, never. I wouldn't have done it."
"But we could have made it work!"
She wrinkled her brow. "Are you saying you seriously considered it? After all this? And Ada!"
"No! Well, yes, it did cross my mind early in our friendship. But, no, I certainly wouldn't change anything now!" Sheldon put both hands up, defending himself. "But I think I knew, pretty early, that you wouldn't have done it. However, I still maintain if any two people could have made it work, it would have been us."
Amy pursed her lips for a moment. "There's this old movie with Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, Without Love. He's a scientist and she has a scientific mind. Because it was 1945 and women weren't capable of being scientists or something," Amy huffed. "Anyway, they try that exact thing, a marriage without love or any of the physical trappings of love. As you might imagine, it doesn't work. It's like what Miss Kenton says in this book -" she searched for another highlighted passage, "- 'But then year after year went by . . . and one day I realized I loved my husband. You spend so much time with someone, you find you get used to him.'"
"Getting used to someone is not the same as falling in love with them," Sheldon pointed out.
"No, you're right. But the idea here . . . well, it's exactly like on Downton Abbey. You work so closely with someone, you know them better than anyone else, you see their strengths and their faults, you can't imagine life without them at your side . . . over time, that can grow into another form of love."
"Like the Greeks," Sheldon volunteered.
"The Greeks?" Amy asked.
"Yes. There are four words - and types - of love in the Greek language, correct? Philia is affectionate regard between equals. That's why it's often referenced as the love between friends."
She nodded in agreement. "Thus Philadelphia is the city of brotherly love."
"Exactly. However, the Greeks would also use this word for romantically linked persons. Then there's éros, which is most commonly interpreted as sexual or intimate love. But Plato postulated that when éros is contemplated within one's mind, it becomes an appreciation of the beauty within that other person, a love of their soul, that it leads to an almost spiritual plane of existence with them. So philia becomes éros that then becomes this sort of super-éros." Sheldon sat back with a satisfied motion, and took a long drink of tea, apparently emptying his mug.
Amy tilted her head and watched him. So sure, so intelligent. She could have never lasted six months in only an affair of the mind with him. Yes, their relationship had started that way, and, yes, it was still the basis for their love, but it was so much more profound than that now. She didn't just love him, she -
"Sheldon, I super-éros you," she said suddenly.
He looked up, startled, his eyebrows raised. Then he blushed slightly before saying softly, "That type of talk will get you everywhere, little lady."
Amy chuckled and then finished her own tea. "Oh, oh, oh!" said said, putting her mug down with a thump, "we still haven't talked about my favorite scene! It reminded me so much of you!"
"Who knew I had so much in common with an aging English butler?" Sheldon asked.
"Here," Amy said, smiling, "the scene where she finds him reading the romance novel. 'I rarely had the time or the desire to read any of these romances cover to cover, but so far as I could tell, their plots were invariably absurd - indeed, sentimental - and I would not have waited one moment on them if not for these aforementioned benefits.'" She looked up. "Remember, he claims he's only reading them because they were written with elegant dialogue that he thought would be helpful to him when talking to the ladies and gentlemen he serves?" Sheldon nodded, and she started to read again, "'Having said that, however, I do not mind confessing today - and I see nothing to be ashamed of in this - that I did at times gain a sort of incidental enjoyment from these stories. I did not perhaps acknowledge this to myself at the time, but as I say, what is there in it? Why would one not enjoy in a light-hearted sort of way stories of ladies and gentlemen who fall in love and express their feelings for each other, often in the most elegant phrases?'"
"And your point is? I don't read romance novels. Well, there was that one horrible Nicholas Sparks book you had us read. But that was your choice, not mine," Sheldon said.
"But it's almost exactly what your excuses were when I first suggested we read the same book together! That they were absurd and sentimental!"
"Those were not my exact words. My argument was based on the amount of time Book Club would require me to extend."
Amy couldn't help but grin. "And, yet, several Book Clubs later, you told me that you never sped read a single Book Club book."
"Well, I - hmmmmm. I suppose there's no use denying it now, I've come to love Book Club. I suspect you know that already. But! -" he raised an eyebrow, "- as I just pointed out, we've only read one romance novel, and we both hated it. So there's nothing to be ashamed of. We're reading deep works of literature, broadening our minds. It's all about the intellectual stimulation."
"So, Dr. Cooper, if it's only about the intellectual stimulation, why is it that you always manage to find the romance in the most surprising of stories?"
She stood then, watching Sheldon struggle to respond, his mouth opening and shutting twice without a word. Chuckling all the way to the sunroom, she took a paper off the printer and brought it back to the dining area, where she handed it to Sheldon. "Here."
He took it, and she sat down again as he quickly read it. "I don't understand. It's a list of household chores. While I agree that Ada needs to learn the value of cleaning up after herself, even I know she's too young to complete all of these. Especially coming from you, who wants to keep her a baby forever."
"Yes, I know," Amy said, ignoring the little comment at the end. "It's a proposal. I propose that we pay someone - hire someone - to do those chores for us."
Pulling his head back, Sheldon said, "You want a maid? Is that why you wanted to read this book, to bring the idea of domestic servitude to the front of my brain?"
Amy sighed. "No, Sheldon, you remember how this we picked this book - together and organically. And they are called cleaning services now, not maids." She paused. "I wrote it at work today. Work was stressful, and I knew the bathrooms had to be cleaned tonight - you know how I hate that - and I regretted the meal choice as it was so time consuming, and I just got thinking: What if I had less to do in the evenings? What if we both had less to do in the evenings? We could spend more time on our hobbies, or with Ada, or just together. The cleaning basics are the easiest to outsource. We're busy people. And we have the money in the budget."
She saw him look down and read the paper again. He was taking too long to read it, and she knew that meant he was thinking. Finally he said quietly, "You want a stranger to touch our things? And what if their standards aren't as high as ours?"
"Notice laundry isn't on there; I don't want a stranger washing my clothing, either. If there are certain bookshelves or something you want noted as off limits, I'm sure we could arrange that. And if one cleaning service doesn't measure up, we'll find another."
"Sometimes I clean when I'm stressed," Sheldon said softly.
"I know." Amy put her hand out to touch his. "You can still do that; things will just be extra clean that week."
He didn't respond, but he didn't shy away.
"Listen, you don't have to decide tonight," she said softly, tenderly running her fingertips along the back of his hand. "I know that Raj's email probably already upset the status quo enough for one evening. Please just promise you'll think about it. Okay?"
Sheldon nodded, and Amy got up again, taking their mugs to the dishwasher.
"'The evening was the best part of the day, the part they most looked forward to.'"
Amy stopped and turned around to face Sheldon. He looked up at her. "'The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it . . . Try to make the best of what remains of the day.'"
She smiled softly and nodded.
The After Dark chapter is Chapter 34: An Affair of the Mind.