Amy was quiet when she picked the children up from their after school daycare. She dreaded when they arrived home and she and Dave would have to tell them about Beth. If Felix and Cassie noticed her somber mood, they did not act like it.
"Can I press the button now mummy?" Felix asked eagerly.
Amy pursed her lips, just wanting the bus ride to be over. With the traffic outside, they would be on the bus for a while yet, longer than most days. Fate was laughing at her, she suspected.
"Not yet. We have a few more stops to go."
"I want to press the button. Please pretty please," Cassie begged.
Amy wanted to roll her eyes. She would think them to be accustomed to the bus by now, and yet pressing the stop button still seemed a novelty to them. On another day, she would likely be amused, or simply patient. As it was, the pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from snapping.
"Not yet," she repeated. "Sit back down." Cassie was already preparing to stand up on the seat to reach over Felix to the button.
"But—"
"—Sit down," Amy snapped.
Shocked at her harsh tone of voice, Cassie sat down and became silent, shocked.
Amy sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped," she said, but the damage was already done. Both Cassie and Felix eyed her warily.
As they approached their stop, she said, "Come on. This is our stop."
"I want to push the button," Felix said, though less enthusiastically than before.
"Someone else already pressed the button," Amy said.
Felix did not fight with her as she would have expected, and that alone said volumes about her mood.
They walked the short distance back to the house and Amy let them in. Dave was talking on the phone when they entered, so she helped the children with their after school snack as he finished his conversation.
"Funeral arrangements?" she asked once he hung up.
"Yes."
His tears for earlier were gone, and he replaced them with calm stoicism. She could not tell what he was feeling. It had been years since she saw him that reserved around her. Not since they were first dating in fact. It unsettled her.
Felix finished his snack and immediately ran over to the piano. She could hear the opening notes of Solfeggietto sounding already.
"Cassie, love, daddy and I have something to tell you. Can you please go sit on the couch?"
"But I have homework," Cassie protested.
"Please," Amy said, nearing her wits end. She couldn't do it. She couldn't.
Her children would be hurt and she wanted to protect them from it yet she couldn't. They would being to ask questions, and soon.
"But Felix gets to play the piano," Cassie argued.
"Please go sit on the couch, love," Amy repeated, looking helplessly at Dave. He stared straight back at her yet did not become involved.
She sent him a pleading look, and when he finally looked back at her, she nodded her head towards Cassie.
"Come on, love. Do as your mum says," Dave finally said, holding out his hand for Cassie to take. She looked at it suspiciously, but eventually decided to go along with him. Thank goodness for small mercies.
Amy made her way to the piano. Resting her hand on Felix's shoulder, she said, "I need you to stop playing for a minute, love. Your dad and I have something we need to tell you."
Rather than listen to her, his fingers sped up over the keys, and she could hear the additional mistakes he made and the increase in speed.
"Felix, now," she said.
"I need to finish this song," he said, and as he spoke, the notes became more jumbled until half of them were wrong.
His fingers faltered and he stopped, looked at the keys, and moved his fingers back to their position. "Please let me finish."
Amy sighed. "Sorry, love. You can finish later if you want. If you come with me now, I'll play a duet with you later." The promise of a duet was enough to sway him, though she felt in no mood to tune and play her harp at the moment. The bribe worked.
"What's going on?" Felix asked when he saw Dave and Cassie already gathered. He sat on Dave's other side and looked expectantly at her. Cassie, too, focused her attention on Amy, and she cleared her throat, uncertain how to begin.
"Your nana. . ." she started, and then trailed off, uncertain how to continue and looked to Dave for help. He stared at her blankly, and she could see the stress and pain and something else, all wrapped up into one.
"Your nana is gone," she finally said.
"Gone where?" Cassie asked.
"She . . . she died," Amy said at last.
"No!" Felix immediately said as understanding dawned on him. "Nana is coming back. She has to."
"Yes," Cassie echoed.
Still Dave remained silent.
"Nana isn't coming back," Amy said. "I'm so sorry, but nana is gone."
"You're wrong," Cassie argued.
"I'm so sorry," Amy repeated, a broken record.
She watched as understanding dawned over the two children, and she could see the sadness, but she could also see a lack of understanding. They didn't cry. They didn't even look close to tears, for which she was grateful. Cassie and Felix remained in a stunned disbelief.
That was, until the funeral. During the service, as Dave got up to speak, she sat in the front row with the children on either side.
Dave told a story about his mother from when he was a child. His face remained calm, though she could hear the turmoil in his words. It made her tear up.
"Why are you crying?" Felix asked, confused.
"Hush. Your dad is speaking," Amy said.
"Don't cry, mummy," Cassie said, and hugged her. "I'll make it better."
Amy held Cassie to her, even as the younger child understood what was going on but did not fully grasp it. There was a small measure of comfort.
Felix joined in not much later, and she pulled him onto her lap. He buried his face in her shoulder, no longer able to look at the service. She stroked his back and calmed him as much as she could, but in the end, there was only so much she could do.
Dave finished speaking and sat down off to the side, still a part of the ceremony.
Cassie didn't cry through the entire service, but as they walked out of the small chapel in the countryside, Cassie paused in the entryway, and then she started crying.
"Nana's gone," Cassie sobbed, as the meaning of death hit her fully. "Nana's gone," she sobbed.
"I know, love. I know," Amy soothed her, hugging Cassie close to her as well. She felt like crying, but for the sake of her family, she forced herself to be strong. It would not do for her to fall apart as well. She couldn't.
Death was inevitable. They knew it all along. Yet the immediacy of the funeral was a harsh contrast to a theoretical and intangible future.
Dave held her hand in a vice like grip as they watched the coffin be lowered into the ground, and she periodically squeezed his hand to reassure him she was there, in whatever form he needed. He did not let go, and his grip was so strong she knew there would be bruises later. She did not protest or attempt to pull away. Someone had to keep him from falling apart, and that someone was her.
They rented out a hall for after the burial, and invited the family members. It was the first time Amy met many of Dave's family, not having had the opportunity to speak to them before the service, and under the circumstances, she felt awkward, an intruder into a family she both knew very well and didn't know at all.
The children were the first to stop being sorrowful, but with food and drinks, the atmosphere calmed. The adults stopped crying and started talking. Dave's cousins and aunt and uncle were reserved, and they only got to a brief discussion about their professions.
By the time they left, Dave seemed somewhat calmed. Cassie and Felix, having spent the last couple of hours playing, were entirely recovered. She envied them for that. If only a bit of playfulness could have such a great effect on her and her husband.
In bed that night, she was worried about his silence as he did not even kiss her goodnight.
"Is it wrong of me to feel relieved?"
Amy turned to face her husband though she could not make much out in the dark bedroom.
"No. It's not," she said, knowing what he was talking about without having to be told explicitly.
"It just feels wrong, you know. She's my mum. I should be upset or sad or angry or something . . . but I'm just relieved she doesn't have to suffer anymore and . . . and that we don't have to take care of her anymore."
"It wasn't her fault," Amy tried to sooth him, recognizing the guilt for what it was. If she was being honest, a part of her was relieved at Beth's passing as well, though having never known the woman in her prime, Amy also knew she was far less attached to the woman than her husband and had less of a reason to feel guilty.
"You never got a chance to know her before. She was . . . It's terrible of me to be glad that she's gone." She heard the hesitancy as he spoke, unable to fully convey what he felt.
Amy scooted closer to him until she could feel the steady thump of his heart against her cheek. "I would have liked to know her then, but she had a long life. You don't have to feel guilty about being relieved."
"You haven't visited your parents since we moved here."
She did not like when conversations abruptly changed to avoid difficult topics, and this time it was different, especially when the new topic was incredibly uncomfortable for her.
"We haven't been able to leave."
She wasn't sorry, per say. She wasn't close to either of her parents and a small part of her relished the distance. She was especially glad neither of her parents came for Beth's funeral. The distance was comforting.
"We could go visit them now," Dave suggested.
Amy was glad for the darkness as she flinched at the thought. She'd chosen to go to college far away from home, and then to graduate school far away, for one reason: to get as far away as possible from her parent's house and away from her mother's overbearing influence. Now she no longer had her own residence in California, they would either be forced to stay at a hotel or with her parents. Her mother would insist they not go to a hotel when they could stay with family, so bunk with the devil they would.
"I'm not sure that's a great idea," she said. She did not want to go and be stuck in a house where her mother told her to wear more makeup and loose weight to hold onto her husband so he would not leave her for a younger, more attractive woman and leave their children fatherless. Heaven forbid she ever find a new man. After all, why couldn't she be prettier and funnier and less bookish? She could not tolerate putting up with her mother's endless barrage of insults. Not without a place to escape to.
"You want to avoid your parents."
"That's not true," Amy automatically protested knowing full well that was the reason.
"Then why is it a bad idea?"
"The kids have school and it's a long flight. It would be such a disruption to their education and they're upset right now. I don't think a vacation is what they want."
"Felix and Cassie are upset, but I think meeting their grandparents would be good for them. We can wait a couple months until their summer break."
"It's an expensive flight," Amy tried to divert him.
"We have the money." That was true. Beth had the house paid off in full, which meant they were only responsible for the upkeep. They'd been so busy taking care of Beth the last couple of years they hadn't gone on vacation or spent much time eating out, meaning they'd saved a considerable sum despite living in London.
"I just don't think it's a good idea right now," she said. They couldn't go to California to visit her parents. They just couldn't.
"Then give me one good reason why we can't go." Dave was beginning to sound upset, an emotion she rarely associated with her gentle husband.
"The twins—" she started and was interrupted.
"—Would love to go and meet their grandparents. Especially now. Why don't you want to go, Amy?"
"I just don't want to listen to my mother tell me all my life choices are a mistake and I should be prettier and become a housewife, alright. Will you just leave it alone already."
He needed to stop. His insistence was getting on her nerves. She did not want to go to California. End of story. He should listen to her and drop it already.
"No, Amy, I think we need to talk about this. You can't avoid your parents forever and our children should know their grandparents."
"I don't want to fight with you, but we're not going," she said firmly. On this issue she wasn't willing to budge or compromise in the slightest.
"I don't want to fight either," Dave said, "but will you please at least think about visiting?"
"I don't need to think. We're not going."
"Be reasonable."
"I am being reasonable. Stop pressuring me."
She turned so her back was to him. Unbidden, she felt moisture collecting in her eyes. Don't cry. Don't cry. She chanted internally, willing the wetness away. She was tired and frustrated and she hated being pushed. That was it. Not the fact that she knew deep down he was right and a visit to her parents was long overdue, no matter how little she wanted to go.
"Amy," Dave tried again but she was sick and tired of his badgering.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Goodnight."
"But—"
"—I said goodnight," she interrupted him and squeezed her eyes shut. If only she could fall asleep and get some relief. She hated fighting yet on this issue she would not give in.
They barely spoke to each other at all the next morning. Luckily for her Felix dropped his bowl of cereal, creating a mess of milk and broken glass necessitating intensive clean up that allowed her to avoid speaking to Dave. He left for work and she dropped the children off at school before heading into her lab.
She resisted the urge to text him updates about her day as she normally would. She was still mad at him after all. When it appeared like her experiment was going to run late, she sent him a text asking him to pick the children up from after school daycare. Once he confirmed, she felt a bit hollow. Perfunctory.
Rather than discuss their argument and settle it, they avoided each other. Even though she was angry at him for pushing her when she was not ready, she also hated the concise, emotionless discourse driven by necessity. She missed him, a strange notion given she saw him that morning.
She started prepping brain slices for observation under the confocal microscope, delicate work that distracted her from the fight. Down time came when she had to wait an hour for the dye to set before removing it. As she completed the final washes with phosphate-buffered saline, her mind was distracted by the menial but delicate task once more.
There was a text from Dave. The children were fed and asleep and he wanted to know if she was alright.
She checked the clock. 10:00pm. She felt a bit guilty not telling him she was going to be quite a bit late, but she also had not expected to stay at her lab that long either. Her avoidance strategy worked better than she anticipated. She sent him a brief text letting him know she wouldn't be home for at least another two hours.
Then she waited. There was more work she could do, but now she knew how late it was she felt the exhaustion creeping up on her. Whatever she started on now she would inevitably do less than perfectly and only perfection was acceptable when it came to her work.
Without knowing how it happened she opened Skype and automatically contacted Penny.
"It's too early for this," Penny complained. Amy smiled at her exhausted bestie. With the time difference she knew it was early in the morning for Penny.
"Sorry to wake you up. I wanted to talk."
"What's wrong?" Penny's love of gossip woke her up quickly. To Amy's keen eye she appeared fully alert in only a few seconds.
"Dave and I fought last night. He thinks we should visit my parents."
"You don't want to?"
"You've met my mother. What do you think?"
She recalled the one and only time Penny and her mother met each other and it was at her wedding. Needless to say, her mother was too high maintenance for even her easy going best friend to put up with, and that was saying a lot. Penny was practically a goddess; it should be impossible not to get along with her.
"Point taken. What if you stayed with Leonard and me. We have a house and plenty of room. I'd love to see your children again."
That prospect was attractive. She still wanted to run away screaming rather than see her parents after years of blissful separation broken only by intermittent Skype calls. But she did have to admit she desperately missed her best friend. Communication via mail and technology simply wasn't the same as being in the room together. Besides, the last time Penny saw Cassie and Felix they were infants. She did want her children to know and love their 'Aunt' and godmother Penny as much as she did even if she was more ambivalent about them meeting their grandparents.
"And it wouldn't be too much trouble? The kids can be a handful."
"Nah." Penny waved her hand around to show she really did not care. "There's plenty of room and we want to see you again. Leonard and Howard can babysit the kids and you, me, and Bernadette can have girls night again. Just like old times."
"I would like that," Amy admitted, the prospect of going to California seeming much less onerous now. She missed girls night and would be eager to partake in another one. She had Ann now, but going out with her simply wasn't the same. She, Penny, and Bernadette, her first real friends; still a close friend but a very different friendship.
She would need to discuss the arrangements with Dave, but if the stayed with Penny and Leonard, she just might be willing to spend a dinner with her parents.
She dearly wanted to see her friends again.
That was how, exactly two months later, her family boarded the plane to LAX.
"When will we be in America?" Felix asked.
Since they told the children they were going to California, America was all they could speak about, an exciting trip to a new country. They might have been born in California, but they held no memories of the country.
"We haven't taken off yet," Dave tried to explain but his answer was met by numerous other questions. How much longer? Did the plane have good movies? Could they have a snack?
Eventually, Dave gave up and shot Amy a look that said your turn now.
You started it she said back to him wordlessly and settled Felix down into the seat beside her, taking the aisle seat herself.
The flight was long and tiring. Between Felix or Cassie needing something every ten minutes and the unpleasantness of prolonged periods on a plane in general, she got no sleep. Twelve hours later when they touched down into LAX, she could not have been more relieved. Trouble came as they waited at baggage claim. Cassie and Felix began squealing and pointing.
"Look! It's a cowboy. It's a real cowboy with boots and a hat and everything!"
Amy looked up to see the source of the commotion. There, as the children said, was an actual cowboy. Hardly surprising but to them it was a novelty.
"Don't point. It's rude," she admonished.
"But mum," Felix protested and pointed to the unsuspecting man again, "It's a cowboy."
"Dave." She turned to him for back up.
"Your mother's right. It's rude to point." However, that did not stop either child from pointing and eventually Amy gave up. After staying awake the entire flight, they would be exhausted and whining soon enough.
Once they finally made it to the arrivals area, Dave went in search of the rental car place to get their reservation while Amy sat with the luggage and the kids.
This was why they did not travel and go on vacation. It was simply too tiring.
She gathered the children and luggage and joined Dave at the last minute to sign the rental agreement as a driver and listen to the instructions. Then they were on their way to the car.
The traffic was, compared to central London, not as onerous as she remembered and they made good time to the address in Pasadena that Penny sent her. It was certainly a shorter drive than their transport form their London home to LHR.
The house looked tidy from the outside, shocking for anything Penny owned but not as shocking coming from Leonard.
They did not have a chance to ring the doorbell before Penny flung open the door and attacked her. Or, more accurately, enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug.
"I can't believe you're actually here. Come in." Amy was pulled into the house and Dave and the children followed her. Penny gave a less enthusiastic greeting to Dave that was still no less heartfelt before turning to her two primary interests: Felix and Cassie.
Hearing the commotion, Leonard emerged and greeted them as well. Knowing she and Dave had to be tired from travel, Penny sent Leonard to bring the bags in from the car while she gave their guests a tour of the house. Just like the outside, it was cleaner than Amy expected it to be, a feat whose credit belonged solely to Leonard, sloppiness being one of Penny's very few faults.
Charmingly decorated, Amy knew her best friend had good tastes.
The tour complete, Amy felt herself yawning against her will.
"Poor thing. You all must be tired. Why don't you go nap and I'll wake you up for dinner."
She really did not want to take a nap when she and Penny were finally reunited. She wanted to pop open a bottle of wine and catch up with Penny, engage in gossip and detail every aspect of their lives since they last saw each other in person, but the fatigue was rapidly gaining traction and Penny was right. Little though she might want to she needed sleep.
She and Dave went to the guest room and Penny took the children to their shared room. Amy did not envy Penny the task of getting the exhausted but still surprisingly rambunctious children to nap but she was tired and was not going to insist on the chore herself. Not when Penny volunteered.
Dinner—cooked by Leonard to the delight of everyone's palate—was fantastic. Felix took a shine to Leonard's video game collection and the two were soon thick as thieves. Dave and Cassie joined in to make an even four, leaving Amy and Penny to talk in the kitchen.
"You seem happy. Really happy. I mean, happy given everything that happened," Penny observed, not classically smart but astute all the same.
A serene smile crossed Amy's face. "I am happy. Not about having to visit my parents in three days—" that she dreaded above all else "—but in general I'm really happy. You and Leonard seem happy too." She purposefully left out the long stretch of time she was miserable. Whatever the cause, it was over now and did not need mentioning.
That time it was Penny's turn to smile.
"We are," she agreed. "We haven't told anyone else yet but we're thinking about adopting."
She felt honored to be the first one Penny told.
"That's great," she enthused.
They talked about a lot of things, including the plans Penny already made to get the entire group together. The first day was just them, but after that Penny had plans for everyone.
Home. That was the serene, comfortable warmth she felt engulfing her. Back in her home state with her family and closest friends she was well and truly home for the first time in a long while.
Life was comfortable and easy and it felt strange being back in a house that had aircon and a single faucet for hot and cold water and having access to some of her favorite foods again. Being back felt right.
Once it got later, Amy herded a reluctant Felix and Cassie away from their favorite 'Uncle' Leonard. She was thrilled they already loved her friends as much as she did but it was best to get them on a regular sleep schedule.
Six years since she last saw him when she was pregnant with the twins. Eight and a half years since she broke up with him.
No matter how many years passed she would always recognize Sheldon's bedroom. Meticulously organized, tan walls, mahogany furniture, a bookshelf displaying comic books and action figures, and sci fi posters on the wall. There could be no doubt it was his room.
She didn't care. She told herself she did not care that Sheldon had a room in Penny and Leonard's house. She loved her husband and children and she hadn't been involved in Sheldon's life in years. Not even heard gossip from her friends about Sheldon. Even when he won the Nobel Prize she heard it through the news, not from their mutual friends. It meant nothing to her that her children would be sleeping in Sheldon's room while he . . . what? Where was he?
She didn't care. The children got into their pajamas under her supervision. She didn't care. A wait while they brushed their teeth gave her time to peruse the room in more detail. She didn't care. She assumed different voices while she told them a story and kissed their foreheads goodnight.
She had no reason to care but she did. Shell shocked she found the three adults in the living room. Sitting down beside Dave on the couch, she automatically reached for his hand for comfort.
"They're staying in Sheldon's room," she said to no one in particular, her voice monotone and hollow. She did not know how to feel. What to feel. Just that she felt intensely.
"Amy," Penny started cautiously.
She was married with a family and still when it came to Sheldon, Penny felt the need to walk on eggshells around her. She did not want to be treated like a child. The truth was what she wanted.
"Why does he have a room here?"
She did not want to look at Dave's face to see what he was feeling: insecurity, hurt, jealousy, or eagerness to be in a house Sheldon lived in with the people he lived with. Best not to open that can of worms.
"We set up the room for him. We thought he could deal with us moving out if he felt like he was still a part of our lives. He doesn't know we live here yet." It was Leonard speaking but Amy's eyes remained firmly glued on Penny.
Amy squeezed Dave's hand to center herself. She'd been in Sheldon's bedroom, even if it was one he did not know of. She tucked her children into Sheldon's bed and unpacked their clothes into Sheldon's dresser. She didn't care. She shouldn't care. But she did.
"Will he . . . will he come here?" she asked and it was Dave's turn to squeeze her hand. Was he upset or eager? Not knowing was best.
"No," Penny replied, "He's with his mother in Texas."
Amy knew that mean something was wrong. Badly wrong. Sheldon only ever went to his mother when something in his life was broken and he did not know how to fix it. Even then it was Mary Cooper who came out for a few days. They were staying with Leonard and Penny for three weeks and Sheldon would be in Texas the entire time?
Nothing. That's what she was to him and he to her only it wasn't just as simple as that. At some level she wanted to know what was wrong and if she could fix it. That natural inclination sickened her, as if by caring for Sheldon she was cheating on Dave.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "What's wrong? What happened to him?"
Dave stiffened beside her. She barely even cared that he might be upset. Something was wrong with Sheldon and she gave up any right to know years ago and yet there she was, more concerned about his welfare than what her reaction was doing to her husband.
Leonard and Penny exchanged a look trying to determine how much information to relay to her.
"Sweetie, we don't know what's wrong," Penny said. "He seemed fine when we last saw him but that was before he went to Stockholm for his Nobel Prize. After he went straight to Texas. He had us ship some of his stuff to him, but we don't know what's wrong. He hasn't contacted us much, but we are worried."
Amy mentally ran the calculations. He achieved his life goal and then went home broken to Texas, dysfunctional enough he stayed there for months when usually two days with his mother's evangelical Christian beliefs was enough to snap him out of any mood and back into the condescending scientist he was. Something was badly wrong for him to be out of sorts for so long.
Only now more was wrong than just Sheldon. She finally looked at Dave beside her once he withdrew his hand from hers. He looked . . . jealous was not something she associated with him but he was. Jealous and worried.
His ex-wife that ran off with the French pastry chef. With her evident concern about her ex she shouldn't even care about anymore he was reliving his disastrous first marriage.
She felt guilty all of a sudden. He was hurt and it was her fault because evidently she was still concerned about someone else she had not seen or had any contact with in years.
"It's getting late. Let's go to bed," she suggested.
Dave stiffly agreed, more to get her alone, she suspected, than out of a desire to actually sleep, though they desperately needed more sleep than the short nap from earlier in the day. They said goodnight to Leonard and Penny and retreated to the guest room.
She changed into her pajamas and reentered the bedroom to find Dave already in bed for the night, still sitting up and waiting for her.
She slipped onto the bed next to him and remained sitting up as well. He was angry and she waited anxiously for what he was going to say.
"Do you still love him?" Sadness and worry. She recognized it easily and it made her feel bad her reaction put him into that state.
"No," she said automatically, though she knew very well it wasn't the truth. Sheldon was her first love. A part of her would never be fully over him. He understood her in ways no one else ever had and she him. It was the other factors that kept them apart. She fell in love again. She loved Dave just as strongly as her love for Sheldon but different. It was more stable. More comfortable. Perhaps the correct word to use would be subdued. They were well suited for each other in so many ways, which in the end mattered more to her than a passion that would burn out over time.
"I mean, a little. But I love you more." She knew that that, too, was a lie. She did not love Sheldon any less than Dave despite the years. The two loves were equally strong but they were night and day difference. She choose the one that meshed with her life. The one that did not hurt her with insensitivity time and again. She made the better choice and she knew it. Marriage and children, a part of life she desperately desired that only one could give to her. She made the right choice and she did not doubt it, worried though she might be about what made Sheldon finally snap that even Mary Cooper could not get him over it right away.
"Fine," Dave said, and from his tone she knew he did not believe her. Hardly surprising when she did not believe herself, but the doubt hurt her all the same.
They fell asleep on separate sides of the bed, making no attempt to cuddle. She felt the chill in the space between them. It was all her fault. Her fault for agreeing to go to California. Her fault for thinking it would be a good idea even if they stayed with Penny and Leonard instead of her parents. Less than one full day and their life was already unraveling. She knew all along it was a bad idea to come back to California.
Amy woke up early the next morning, and rather than wake Dave up as well, she silently crept out of the room. Even Leonard was still asleep at that hour. She was tired and should not be awake but sleep was just as impossible. She made herself a coffee, taking extra care to be quiet so as not to wake anyone up.
"Mum?" a confused voice said, causing Amy to look up from the black liquid she was staring at with undue intensity.
"Good morning, Cassie," she said. "What are you doing up so early?" Stupid question really. Cassie was the earliest riser in the family, though where Cassie went Felix soon followed. Thus, only a few seconds later Felix was in the kitchen as well.
"I'm hungry," Cassie announced, and with a sigh Amy got up to see what she could make for breakfast. Not knowing her way around Penny and Leonard's kitchen and not wanting to wake them up, she found Eggo waffles in the freezer and decided that would be both easy and an exciting new treat for the children.
Once they were fed, Felix decided to continue playing video games. She and Dave would have to consider buying a console for their own house with how much Felix seemed to enjoy it. Cassie retreated back upstairs, and Amy returned to her solitary reflections. Her coffee was now cold so she heated it up in the microwave.
She took a small sip and resisted the urge to grimace at the strongly bitter flavor. What was wrong with her? She normally loved coffee. Eventually Leonard made his way downstairs, and much later in the morning Penny followed. All she managed to do was skim through the newspaper and reheat her coffee three times but never actually finished it.
She could not pinpoint the exact cause of her problem but she knew she did not feel right. Something was off. A scream from upstairs had her running in that direction.
She flew into Sheldon's room to find Cassie jumping up and down, clapping her hands in joy. She looked cluelessly between Cassie and Dave, relieved to find out the shriek was an excited one rather than a something is wrong yell, but she could not for the life of her figure out what was causing Cassie so much joy.
"Mum! Did you know that this is Dr Sheldon Cooper's bedroom? Look, here is Dr Cooper's handwriting."
Amy looked at the notebook Cassie evidently found in the room and saw that sure enough there were equations and graphical drawing in what appeared to be Sheldon's handwriting. Would nightmares never cease?
"Will Aunt Penny introduce me to Dr Cooper?"
The shocking similarity Amy saw suddenly made sense. Cassie was exactly like Dave, obsessed with theoretical physics and, much to her dismay, obsessed with Sheldon's work. Just great. Of all the physicists in the world, she was sure she could calculate exactly the chances of Cassie fixating on and idolizing Sheldon, but she did not want to. She just knew it had to be unlikely and if she believed in coincidences, this would be conclusive evidence.
"Sheldon isn't here right now."
Cassie looked disappointed at missing the chance to meet her idol, but rather than wallow in sorrow, she started flicking through the notebook as if by reading his scrawls she would become closer to the scientist she evidently idolized.
Amy looked helplessly at Dave. "I'm sorry," she mouthed quietly, and she saw Dave's expression soften.
"I know," he mouthed back at her and gestured for her to follow him out of the room. Once they were standing alone in the hallway, he raised his voice to a normal volume. "I overreacted a bit last night. I'm sorry."
Amy felt a stiffness fall away from her that she did not even realize she carried.
"And I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. I love you and I would never do anything intentionally to hurt you."
"I know," Dave agreed and he kissed her, a soft kiss but the type of kiss that made her forget she was mad and upset and worried and just feel. Relax. Let her worries seep away. He pulled back from her after awhile and she rested her head against his chest, comforted by the closeness.
"I have a question," Amy said, not sure how her question would be received but feeling a strong need to ask it all of a sudden.
"Go ahead," Dave encouraged.
"Do you still keep up with Sheldon's work." Dave made a significant effort at the beginning of their relationship to resist the temptation to talk about Sheldon. She knew going into their relationship Dave admired Sheldon's work and thought he was brilliant, but then again, he never had met Sheldon. He wanted her to introduce them, but it never seemed right, introducing her current boyfriend to her ex. Then she and Dave were engaged and Sheldon seemed distant. They stopped talking for the most part and it no longer seemed appropriate to introduce him. Then they were married and moved and it all happened so quickly Amy wondered when the last time Dave had even mentioned Sheldon's name. Three years ago in passing, perhaps, before he caught herself and remembered his wife did not like reminders of her ex.
"Do you want the truth?" Dave asked.
"Yes," she said, already knowing the answer from the question. He did still keep up with Sheldon's work. Only he never felt like he could talk to her about it despite the fact that she would understand. That was a part of who he was, one of his interests. He liked theoretical physics and admired Sheldon's work, and with his Nobel Prize, clearly a large portion of the world admired his work as well. There was nothing wrong with that.
Was it silly of her thinking he no longer kept up with Sheldon's research just because he stopped mentioning it to her because it made her uncomfortable? Upset? Or maybe she was just naive and foolish.
"Yes," Dave echoed back. The admission did not hurt as much as she thought it would, but neither was it a good feeling per say. She felt neutral. Dave could have whatever interests he wanted. She could not be mad at him for that. Reason and emotion, she knew, were two very different things.
"Oh," she said. "You haven't talked about him in a long time," she said, at loss for what to say.
"It made you uncomfortable so I stopped. Should I have told you?"
"No," she said quickly, grateful that his silence stemmed from a desire to please her. She appreciated it. She really did. "But you told Cassie?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"And Felix. But he's more of a mummy's girl. If it wasn't for him keeping up with Cassie he wouldn't care about physics at all."
"Smart boy," Amy observed. "So Cassie reads his work as well."
"She's brilliant. Did you know Dr Cooper published his first paper when he was Cassie's age?"
That one question reminded her of the early days in their relationship when Dave would inadvertently let something slip about Sheldon, a fact he intended to surprise her with but she already knew, and more.
"Yes. On algebraic topology," she said. Dave had the good sense to blush.
"Of course you know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"No. It's alright. It's an interest you and Cassie share and you should feel comfortable talking about it. I don't want you to feel like you two can't ever talk about physics."
"Alright." Dave kissed the top of her head and she felt a sense of peace return. Sure, maybe not everything was what it seemed but it was something she could deal with. Could tolerate. Besides, it was silly to let an old relationship that was history define her present.
They were good again. Silly fights were to be expected when two people spent as much time together as they did, and she really was grateful for his patience and understanding and the way he cared about her feelings.
