The day of reckoning was there at long last. The gnawing in her gut was even worse than she anticipated. Five years since she last saw her mother in person. It was when her children were born and she was too preoccupied to notice anything else. Now, without that worry to distract her, she felt nervous all over again.

Nothing she ever did was enough. You need to go on dates, Amy. Find a man to settle down with. But mother, I don't want to date. You go on at least one date a year or I won't let you use my George Foreman grill anymore. Fine mother. I have a boyfriend now, Armin the miniature horse breeder. Armin isn't real. How could you lie to me Amy? I want to be a neuroscientist mother. Now, Amy, that's just foolish. You need to join a sorority and find a nice college man to settle down with. I went to a frat party and I woke up with more clothes on. It was humiliating. Just give it another chance, Amy. If you only tried harder you will find someone. I don't want to. Listen, mother, you don't need to set me up on a blind date. I'm seeing someone. Really? Who? Sheldon. He's a theoretical physicist. You're just saying that to get me off of your case. This Sheldon is just as fake as Armin.

Look, mother, this is Sheldon, my boyfriend. I have to go now. My lust for Sheldon in burning in my loins. Amy! How could you be so crude. I taught you better than that. I also taught you not to give away the milk for free. You wanted me to have a boyfriend. Now I do. Are you sure Sheldon is real? You never bring him around to any family events and honestly, Amy, I can't keep vouching for you when everyone asks if Sheldon is made up like Armin. Leave it alone, mother. It's my life. It's been three years since you started dating and I still have not met him. When are you getting married? We're not getting married yet. Why not? You're getting old, Amy. You need to marry him before he leaves you for a younger woman. You'll never find another one. Sheldon and I aren't ready to take that step yet. Leave it alone.

You broke up with Sheldon. You pierced your ears. You drink alcohol. I don't know who you are anymore, Amy. You certainly aren't the daughter I raised. Go sit in the closet and think about what you've done. Fine. I will.

I'm getting married. To Sheldon? No. To Dave. We've been dating for a year. And you never told me? How could you Amy? I'm sorry. I just wanted to keep this to myself. We're getting married in three months. You and dad are invited.

I'm pregnant. Was pregnant. I knew it. You only got married because you were pregnant. Must you always shame me, Amy. Mom. I wasn't pregnant when I got married. Are you sure about that? Yes, mother, I'm a neuroscientist. I know I was not pregnant during my wedding. If you say so. Why don't you believe me?

We're moving to London. London. Good gracious, Amy, do you hate your mother that much that you are going to move halfway across the world to avoid me. No. Dave and I are moving to London. But you just had babies. You can't move with infants. We have to. My mother-in-law needs someone to take care of her and Dave has no other relatives who can. We're moving and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Clearly not. I don't know why I even try with you, exhausting child. I'm a grown woman, mother. I make my own decisions. Why can't you bring my grandchildren home to visit. We haven't seen you for the last three Thanksgivings and Christmases. Your father and I deserve to know our grandchildren. I already told you we can't leave Beth on her own. Then hire a nurse to take care of her. She's family. We can't leave her alone on a holiday. The woman can survive one holiday without you. She doesn't even celebrate Thanksgiving. Dave and I can't afford the time off work, alright. Nonsense. The both of you have 28 paid vacation days. You have time to come visit your mother. If you want to see Cassie and Felix that badly then come out and visit us. We have a spare room you can stay in. Fly to London? Don't be absurd, Amy. Your father and I are too old to travel that far. Your poor father would have a heart attack. Then don't come visit us. I don't know what to tell you mother. Send the children out to stay with us for the summer then. They're three, mother. I can't send them away by themselves. They won't be by themselves. Your father and I raised you, ungrateful child. We can take care of our grandchildren. And what a great job you did raising me. What's that supposed to me? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I talked to your husband. He thinks it's time you brought your family out to visit their grandparents. And I told you before it's not the right time. Why can't you respect my decision? Why don't you respect your mother? And I really don't appreciate you going behind my back and talking to Dave about it. I had no other choice. You refuse to visit us and I won't go the rest of my life never seeing my grandchildren again. Then come here to visit us. I've told you that before. And we can't come.

How could you come home and not stay with your father and I? Penny and Leonard already offered for us to stay with them and I already accepted. That's final, mother. I'm sure they won't mind if you stay with your parents instead. Yes the will mind. Penny's really looking forward to having us and I want to stay with my best friend. Some best friend she was. She's the reason you drink and gamble and mutilated your body. She's the reason your children were conceived out of wedlock. I don't gamble and I pierced my ears. I did not mutilate my body. And I've told you before, I was not pregnant before I married Dave. No one uses that word anymore anyways. How do you know your children weren't conceived out of wedlock with the way you went about giving your milk away for free. I know because they were born a year after I was married. So? How do I know that isn't a lie just like Armin? Because pregnancy lasts nine months. Do the math! Don't you take that tone with me, Amy Farrah Fowler. It's Gibbs. Yes. Only because you couldn't be bothered to marry the first man you slept with and brought shame onto the whole family in doing so. Sheldon and I never slept together! I don't believe you. Your young man told me himself about everything the two of you did together. He said that because I told him to to get you off of my back. Will you let that go already. I don't see why I should. You never tell me anything, Amy. That's because you always find fault. Why would I want to tell you to be criticized? I just want the best for you, Amy. You know that. No, mother. I'm not sure I do.

You're sending your children to boarding school. What's next, you'll send away your husband too? Do you know how much shame that will bring to your father and I. I'm not sending anyone away. My children aren't going to boarding school. At that uppity private school of theirs they might as well be. Enough, mother. I don't have to listen to this anymore. Would you at least try to wear more makeup? You're almost forty now. If you're not careful then your husband will find another younger, more attractive woman. I like the amount of makeup I wear just fine. And how dare you suggest Dave would ever leave me. He won't because we love each other. Is that what you think? For a smart girl you are really stupid sometimes. There are two things men want in a woman: home cooked food and a beautiful woman who can satisfy them in bed. I beg you. Stop right there. Do you make him dinner? Please tell me you cook. That's none of your business. Fine. But I do have some books I can send you if you have trouble pleasing him in bed. For instance, you can— Stop right there. I don't want to hear it and if you keep talking like that we won't see you at all when we come to visit. Fine. Be like that Amy. You're an ungrateful child.

Just what do you have against my husband. I don't know what you're talking about. Bullshit. Language, Amy! Fuck my language. I don't bloody care. Why do you hate my husband? He's never done anything to you. Never done anything to me? He took my daughter halfway around the world and won't let me see her again. Dave's the one who convinced me to come and visit you. Now I really think we should cancel our flight. Anyhow, you never should have married him. That wasn't up to you. I'm happy now. Why can't you just be happy for me? You should have married the first man you slept with, not Dave. For shame, Amy, do you know how humiliated I am that my daughter wasn't a virgin on her wedding night. That was six fucking years ago. And do you hear yourself. We don't live in the eighteenth century anymore. And for the last time, Sheldon and I never slept together. Well, and least I will be comforted to know that I was right when you end up old and alone. I just wanted better for you, Amy. I always have. Cut the crap, mother. You never wanted what was best for me. I let you go off to Harvard, didn't I? That was for my education. You were supposed to find a husband there. I didn't go to Harvard to find a husband. I went to Harvard to study neuroscience. And a waste of time it was. I would have more than just two grandchildren by now if you'd done what I wanted you to do. Then it's a good thing you don't control me. I'm happy with my two children and I don't need you anymore. You don't know what you're saying. I do. I don't appreciate being told that all my life choices are wrong. I'm really happy right now. Why can't you just be happy for me? Because you don't know what you're missing out on. Oh that's rich. Coming from a woman who only ever had one child. You're a hypocrite. Stop trying to interfere in my life. What interference? You hated me so much you moved to a different country. I'm hanging up now, mother. I'll see you in two weeks, and if you keep criticizing me like you are now, I guarantee it will be the last time I ever bring my children to visit. Amy. Goodbye mother.

"Is everything alright?" Dave asked.

Amy looked up, torn from her inner thoughts, many of which involved incidents and conversations that never even happened. She did not realize she was sitting stiffly on the couch staring into space and thinking. "No. Everything's not alright. I can't do it. I can't see her."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Dave said.

"But you're the reason we're here. Because you think our children should meet their grandparents and that's what we're going to do."

"I didn't realize it would make you this upset. I'll call your mother and tell her the children are sick. We'll stay here, go out for a nice dinner with your friends. Cassie and Felix love the Wolowitz kids and will be happy to play with them. Come on. It won't be so bad."

She wanted to do as Dave suggested. She really wanted to play hooky and do what gave her pleasure, namely blowing off her parents and not having to go over to her childhood home and feel judged and ridiculed for every aspect of her life. She would not have to defend herself from false accusation. Staying in with their friends was a much more cheerful prospect than facing the firing squad that was sure to be guarding the walkway to her mother's home.

Yet at the same time she knew Dave was right when he suggested visiting. She wanted her children to have a relationship with her parents. They had their grandmother, but she knew Beth tired them. They understood that grandma could not help but forget who they were, and forget their mother, and they also understood that she did not remember telling a story before so that was the reason she repeatedly told the same stories day after day. Now the only grandmother they'd ever known was dead, and it hit the both of them hard. They'd never know their other grandfather. She did not want to deprive them of their family, little though she wanted to see her parents again. Besides, she could put up with her mother's incessant nagging about her life choices as long as she did not try the same with her children.

"No. I think we should go. Cassie and Felix should meet their grandparents. I mean, now that they're old enough to remember them."

The decision had her feeling jittery all over again. It was for her children. Maybe if she told herself that enough times she would actually start to believe it. It wouldn't be so bad. She could make that statement her mantra and she still would never believe it.

"We don't have to if you really don't want to." For the first time all morning she felt her nerves leaving her. Dave was offering her an escape, no questions asked. She was so tempted to accept it and she loved him all the more for understanding and offering it. However, she was no coward.

"I don't want to but I think we should. I can put up with my mother for one evening, but if my parents try to treat Cassie and Felix the same way they treat me, promise me you'll get us out of there."

"I promise." He seemed a bit nervous and Amy knew he was not a forceful type of man. He meant well, but if it became necessary to extract themselves, she would have to be the one to do it. Dave did not have a mean bone in his body.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Dave kissed her forehead and she felt a familiar calm settle over her. It would not last for long. The moment they were in the car while she drove them along the familiar route to her childhood home, the nerves would be back full force.

Per her expectations, they were. There was a fancy bottle of wine in the car, something they'd picked up along the way. A bottle that nice would never last an hour in a house containing Penny. She also had and array of Swiss and German chocolates in the car to present to them. No matter how much she tried, however, she knew her mother and father would find faults with the gifts. They would never be good enough. She would never be good enough.

Cassie and Felix, however, were happily singing along to the kids radio. At least they were happy, and hopefully her mother would be nicer to them than to her. Disparagement of herself she would tolerate but if it happened to her children they were gone, no questions asked.

"It's brave of you to do this," Dave said quietly, hoping the children were too distracted by the music to take much notice of the conversation up front.

"I don't feel brave. I feel like I'm five again and I've been called into the principal's office." Not that such a scenario ever happened to her as a child. The only time she'd ever been called to the principal's office was to receive awards. Not that the awards were ever good enough for her parents. After all, why did she only receive first place at her school science fair and third place at the state science fair? Their daughter wouldn't be going to the national science fair but their dear friend's son was.

"I can see why you don't go home much." Amy grimaced at the reminder.

"Luckily for us we live far enough away."

"I'm starting to appreciate that." He was successfully distracting her. If only he could keep it up the evening might not be as horrible as she thought. It was only one evening. One evening a couple of days in and then they wouldn't have to see her parents again for the rest of the trip. One dinner. Knowing her mother it would take an hour, two at the most. Then she'd insist they talk for another hour or so and then she would be home free. It wasn't that much to ask. Hopefully, she could distract her mother with her grandchildren. That might very well do the trick to get her mother off of her back for once.

Then again, who was she kidding? Knowing her mother she would find some fault with the children and blame it all on Amy's parenting abilities. After all, if she wasn't pretty enough or smart enough or successful enough, what hope did she have for being a good parent in her mother's eye? Not that she needed or wanted any validation from the woman.

"We're here," she said when she pulled up into the driveway, leaving the car idling for longer than strictly necessary before cutting the ignition.

"It's not too late to turn around and leave," Dave said.

"Nope. See that curtain?" she pointed to the window directly to the left of the front door, "We've been spotted."

They helped Cassie and Felix out of the car and made their way to the front door. The house hadn't changed a bit since she was a child. It was a bit eerie coming back after so many years away.

"Amy. Dave, so good to see you again. And these must be Cassie and Felix. I haven't seen the two of you since you were babies. Come in. Come in. Give your grandmother a hug."

Amy looked at Dave with surprise at the sheer cordiality. It did not even seem faked. Truly puzzling. She and Dave followed the children inside. They seemed wary about meeting another grandmother. Perhaps she had done them a disservice not bringing them to visit before. Just because her relationship with her mother was strained did not mean theirs had to be as well.

They moved into the living room where her mother already had coloring books and crayons set out on the floor. She and Dave sat down on the love seat while her mother called her father to join them.

Leaning over to Dave, she whispered, "I feel like I'm in trouble."

"Then I am too." She giggled slightly. It might very well be the only laugh the house heard from her that entire evening.

"What are you two laughing about?"

"Dad," she said and stood up to give him a hug.

"Amy-bird. It's so good to see you again." She hugged him again and sat down next to Dave.

"Hi, son, it's good to see you again." After years in California he only retained a small bit of his British accent, "Even if you did take my Amy away to the homeland."

"Well, sir, she was the one who wanted to go."

Mrs Fowler forced a smile, though Mr Fowler brushed the comment aside with a wave of his hand. "Never mind that. Tell me, are you a Manchester United man?"

Say yes. Say yes. Amy urgently repeated silently as if Dave would hear her if her thoughts were empathetic enough.

"I am," Dave admitted and Amy breathed a sigh of relief at the pitfall he narrowly avoided. Then again, if she needed to extract them quickly, that might just be the way to go about it.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now, last time we met I didn't have enough time to get to know you. What school did you go to?"

"Cambridge."

"I'm an Oxford man myself."

And let the snide judgements descend, no matter that her father and husband went to the two most distinguished universities in the country, if it was not her father's alma matter it couldn't possibly be as good. She knew that well when she decided to go to Harvard.

"Ah. Yes. I see . . . Umm . . . I . . ."

"Don't worry yourself, son. Now I know you're a maths teacher."

"Professor," Amy interjected. Was this what it was like introducing one's high school boyfriend to one's parents felt like? If so, she was glad she skipped that experience to save her the pain of having to undergo it a second time. While Dave had met her parents on a handful of occasions, she had done her best to keep her husband far out of her mother's reach. He might not have been a flight risk but she wasn't going to let anything risk ruining her special day. If anything could scare off her loyal fiancé, it would be her parents. Now he was her husband and she had the assurance there was no where he could go. It made the entire experience only a little less nerve wracking.

The inquisition continued from there as her parents asked Dave question after question. Or, more correctly, her father had an apparently endless stream of questions. Her mother spent time eyeing her and Dave individually as if they were a puzzle she couldn't solve.

"When's dinner?" she asked once, only to be abruptly hushed. Then, to her surprise, Mrs Fowler sat down on the floor beside the children.

"What are you coloring?" she asked.

Amy looked to Dave surprised. Cassie showed Mrs Fowler the picture she was working on. Or, more correctly, the picture she was writing over.

"That's lovely, dear. But you're supposed to color in the lines," Mrs Fowler corrected. Amy pursed her lips together. Here comes the criticism. Can't even make it to dinner without finding some fault.

Cassie was blind to the insult, a fact for which Amy was very grateful. Instead, her daughter looked proudly at her grandmother. "Coloring is for babies. I'm calculating the speed a space station would need to rotate at to create one g artificial gravity."

"So you're going to be a scientist just like your mother. That's nice, dear," Mrs Fowler said.

Amy looked at Dave nervously. It wasn't bad yet and still she felt like they were dangling right on a precipice. One gust of wind would knock them right off but for now they were precariously balanced.

"No. Mummy's a neuro-ologist. Cassie is going to be a physicist," Felix announced proudly.

"Neurobiologist, love," Amy corrected.

"Neurobiolologist," Felix tried again.

"Neurobiologist." That time it was Cassie.

"Neurobiologist," Felix mimicked, but he still looked towards her to see if he got it right.

Amy nodded yes and Felix beamed proudly at his accomplishment.

"Is that so?" Mrs Fowler said, and from her uninterested tone Amy knew she did not care. Hopefully the children would not pick up on her disinterest. "And what about you. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I'm going to be a musician."

"That's wonderful." Mrs Fowler clearly did not think it was wonderful at all. At least she was tactful enough to keep that to herself. "Can I see your coloring?" she asked to change the subject, for which Amy was grateful. Better her to focus on drawing than career choices. It was one of the many things her mother did not approve of and, ashamed as she was to admit it, the disapproval over her career hurt more than that aimed at her private life.

Felix showed his grandmother his drawing. Unlike Cassie, his was not covered in equations, but neither did he color in nicely between the lines. There were scribbles, but mainly he embellished the drawing, adding other people and animals. There was even a cat that had wings flying overhead.

Mrs Fowler pressed her lips together and looked at her daughter. "Amy, your children have no idea how to color."

Amy counted to three in her head to resist the urge to argue. That was why she had wanted to avoid this encounter. She really should have accepted Dave's offer to cancel indefinitely.

"They're being creative. Let them be," she said as neutrally as she could.

Mrs Fowler appeared like she was about to argue and then thought better of it. Standing up from the floor, she brushed off her skirt and sat down next to Mr Fowler.

"Very well then. What have you been up to? Still a neuroscientist."

"Neurobiologist," she corrected stiffly. Mrs Fowler waved her hand in the air.

"Same difference. Now when can I be expecting more grandchildren?"

Amy looked hopelessly at Dave, begging him to answer the question. "Amy and I are content with our family just the way it is." Mrs Fowler narrowed her eyes at him, and Amy felt guilty for directing her mother's ire towards him. This was supposed to only be unpleasant for her.

"I see." The doubt in her tone led Amy and Dave to know she did not believe him, but Amy would happily take her mother's disinclination to argue at the present moment. Peaceful thoughts, she reminded herself. Peaceful thoughts. Monkeys and cardigans and Dave. Peaceful thoughts.

"Are you incapable of having more children? Amy, I told you that you should have married younger."

Her mantra of inner peace broke as suddenly as it came. "Mother," she gasped, "that's none of your concern. Dave and I don't want more children. That's it."

"I see," Mrs Fowler repeated herself. Amy looked back at Dave. He no longer seemed as relaxed as before. She wanted to lean over and tell him a well deserved told-you-so but resisted the urge. Her parents would be able to hear, after all, and they had yet to sit down for dinner. Let this be the last time they fulfilled their obligation to visit her parents. The evening could not end soon enough.

"Well son, why don't you come help me with the steaks," Mr Fowler said at last. Dave agreed, and Amy knew better than to whine about not being left alone with her mother.

"That's a great idea. I'm starving. Cassie, Felix, I have some toys for you if you want to play outside."

Damn but her mother was good. Amy watched enviously as the children followed the men outside. "Don't look at me like that, Amy. They're my grandchildren and I wanted to make sure they have fun. There's a slide and a sandbox and some sand toys."

"Joy," Amy said sarcastically, wishing she could escape and go play outside. She had no particular desire to built sandcastles but just about anything seemed better than being left with her mother in the living room.

"You can set the table while I get the rest of dinner ready," Mrs Fowler instructed. A guest in her former home and she was still being put to work. Amy went to the cupboards to get the dishes, exactly in the same place as they were while she was growing up but the plates were different. She set them without a word, hoping her silence would keep her mother's comments at bay. She was not to be that lucky as to avoid conversation entirely.

"I heard that your last boyfriend, that Sheldon Cooper, won the Nobel Prize in physics last year," her mother said once they were alone.

"He did," Amy reluctantly agreed. Any other subject but Sheldon would be preferable.

"Now I don't get why you didn't marry him. A Nobel Prize. Can you imagine that? You could have been married to a man with a Nobel Prize and instead you find a math teacher—"

"—Professor."

"Fine. Professor. Well, young lady, what on Earth were you thinking."

"I was thinking that I love Dave."

"Yes. Well. You made a mistake, darling. It's much to late to do anything about it now."

Amy thrust the last glass of water down onto the table forcefully enough that it caused half the water to spill onto the table cloth. Fantastic. Let that be added to her mother's list of her numerous failings. It was apparently infinite.

"Dave wasn't a mistake, mother," Amy argued. "I love him and I would like you to accept the fact that he's my husband and we're happy together."

"You could have been happier with—"

"—No. I would have been miserable. That doesn't matter anymore. Will you please just let it go already? I don't want to keep arguing about this."

"We wouldn't have to argue about this if you'd done as I told you to."

If she did as her mother told her to she'd still be single and childless, but she decided that was a thought best kept to herself.

"I'm going to check up on the children," Amy said and stormed out to the backyard. Felix and Cassie were happily making a sandcastle. Well, they were currently in the process of destroying sand castles but until they came to her screaming and crying, they could be however destructive they wanted. As long as they could escape the Fowler house unscathed she would consider it a win. As for herself, there was no hope.

Dave left his place by the grill and came over to her. He settled his hands onto her hips and she craned her neck to look at his face.

"You alright?" he asked.

"No," she sulked.

"I'm sorry I made you do this." His apology sounded genuine and she wanted to accept it and in doing so place all the blame on him. That would not be right, however. It was as much her decision to come as his. She was glad they were staying with Penny and Leonard rather than with her parents. She could not tolerate an entire vacation in the house. That she knew well.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she finally settled on the truth. "I just don't handle my mother's criticism well."

"Yes. I get the sense your father doesn't like me."

Amy grimaced. "Sorry. I have no idea why. What did he say to you?"

If her father insulted Dave, regardless of the state of dinner they were leaving. She would not stay and tolerate rude behavior on their part.

"Nothing important," Dave said.

He sounded upset, which was unusual because he was rarely upset. If anyone could upset him, it would be her parents.

"What did he say?" Amy repeated, bracing herself for another argument if need be.

"I don't want to get into this here," Dave finally said after a pregnant pause.

Amy sighed. Of course not. They could talk about it later once they were out of purgatory. Dinner was almost ready. Then they could eat, talk for the minimally acceptable time, and make their escape for the next five years at least.

"Amy. Get back in here and reset the table. I can't believe you spilled water all over my table cloth. It's lace, you know."

Amy looked at Dave and rolled her eyes. "Does she not know two five year olds will be eating on her lace tablecloth?"

Nevertheless, she went back into the kitchen and found her handiwork was already undone, paper towels and a new tablecloth already placed on the table for her to attend to. She dried the table and then reset it, being careful not to spill or leave anything out of place again. Normally she was meticulous in everything she did. It was a trait she highly appreciated being a sign of a well developed, intelligent mind. Now more than anything she wanted Penny to teach her how to be cluttered and messy just so she could spite her mother.

She really needed to get out of that house again. She felt herself reverting into a teenager, angst and all.

"Will this be alright?" she asked when she was done. She helped her mother carry the dishes onto the table, a salad, fruit, and baked potatoes with all the fixings available.

"It will do," Mrs Fowler said, still not thrilled. She tried. She showed up. There wasn't much else she could reasonably be expected to do.

Mrs Fowler went outside to collect the children for dinner. She herded them into the bathroom to wash off the sand before they would be allowed at the table. Amy heard the whines and being forced to leave their game of giants destroying castles. She sat down at her spot at the table. Dave sat directly to Mr Fowler's right at the heat of the table, and she looked over at him, silently asking why he didn't sit next to her. He shrugged.

Right. Parental pressure was a force to be reckoned with.

The kids sat on either side of their grandmother at the other end of the table. Amy felt alone. Isolated. Just like a child again.

"How is your school?" Mr Fowler asked the two children. In between bites, they did not respond, to eager to have steak, a rare treat for them.

"Cassie. Felix. Your grandfather asked you a question." Amy encouraged them to talk.

"School's boring. The teachers don't know anything," Cassie complained. "One of them—" Cassie giggled "—one of them scolded me for teaching Euler's equation for show and tell."

"Ah. Euler's equation. Well, little missy, you are right. Your teachers should know that Euler's equation is a work of genius. Amy, why are you letting your children go to a school that does not even appreciate basic maths?"

"It's one of the best primary schools in the country," she argued.

"Humph. I doubt it." Then, he returned his attention to the children. "And Felix. What do you think about school?"

"Miss Jenson's really pretty and she knows all sorts of things. She told me that den...dem...de'ocracy was created by the Greeks but the English do it best."

"Democracy," Mrs Fowler corrected. "And that just isn't true. American democracy is better."

"No it isn't. Miss Jenson is always right."

Mrs Fowler looked at Amy flabbergasted. "But the fourth of July," she protested.

"What's special about the fourth of July?" Cassie asked curiously, her attention drawn from her calculations.

Mrs Fowler looked at Amy accusingly now. "And let me guess, you don't celebrate Thanksgiving anymore either," she said.

"Dave and I have work on Thanksgiving, so no. I don't celebrate it anymore."

"What's Thanksgiving? What's the fourth of July?" Cassie absolutely hated having her questions ignored, and she became increasingly frustrated with the lack of answers.

"They're American holidays," Dave said to her.

"Just what are you teaching your children, Amy?" Mrs Fowler asked simultaneously.

Amy did not know how to reply. Rarely at a loss for words, this was one of the few times she desperately searched for something, anything, to say.

Oblivious to the second conversation at the table, Felix continued giving details on Miss Jenson this and Miss Jenson that, much to Mrs Fowler's horror.

"It's just a harmless crush, mom." Amy tried to calm her mother down but her attempt proved ineffectual.

"Just a crush. Just a crush? There is no such thing as just a crush. You are letting your children run wild and you send them to a subpar school."

"As I said earlier, it's an excellent school."

"No. There's only one solution. You need help. I insist you move back here and send Cassie and Felix to your old school. They need a proper, American education. They are American, Amy, and they should feel prideful about it."

"They're also English," Amy said in exasperation, "If they want to be prideful of that heritage than they can be. And we're not moving. We're settled in London. We have a house and it's where our careers are. Our children have a school to go to. We aren't going to move."

Dave looked at her and she could tell he appeared surprised but he also seemed pleased. Right. Since Beth died they had never discussed what their plans for the future would be. They moved to London to take care of Beth, and now she was gone there was no reason they had to stay there, other than they started a life there already. Yet they could also go anywhere they wanted now. Anywhere in the world. And they hadn't even talked about it, hadn't even discussed it.

Dave was upset about his mother's death and then guilty at his relief. She did not want to upset him further. Then they were planning a vacation and life was busy and explicitly discussing their plans for the future just seemed to vanish, vaguely defined but absent as they favored the status quo.

"Yes," Dave agreed, "We're staying in London."

Amy couldn't tell whether he was happy by the decision or not, only knowing that she should have consulted him first. However, she was hardly going to admit in front of her parents that they had no set plan in mind now their reason for moving to London was no longer applicable.

"Oh. Well. We'll just have to come and visit you then."

Amy felt a brief tinge of fear before the logical portion of her brain took over. For years her mother was resolutely against making the long journey to visit them. Amy doubted anything suddenly changed. They were settled in California and had little intention of leaving. Her mother could not be serious in that threat, even though Amy also knew it wasn't a threat. Not really. It sure did feel like one, however.

"Wonderful," Amy lied through her teeth. "We'd be delighted to have you."

Her steak was already gone but her father was only half finished. Could he eat any slower? Dinner would not end until everyone was finished. Once dinner was over, an hour tops and they could excuse themselves. Liar liar pants on fire, her brain teased her but she ignored it. Better a liar than rude as far as her mother was concerned.

Once dinner was finally over and her mother began clearing the table, Amy pulled Dave aside. "We need to leave now," she said desperately. She was at the end of her tolerance. Her mother would certainly comment on her rudeness at leaving immediately after eating but if they stayed she could not be certain she would be able to contain herself.

"Alright. I'll get the kids ready and we'll make a run for it." Amy could not tell if he was serious or not. Regardless, she wholeheartedly agreed with the statement.

"Great. Lets grab the kids and run before they're done in there."

In the end, they waited in the living room for Mr and Mrs Fowler to finish cleaning up from dinner and come join them. The conversation proved no less torturous than earlier. Now her major faults were out of the way, her wine choice to go with the dinner was criticized. Heaven forbid she spring for a $200 bottle and still have her mother criticize it for not being good enough. And the chocolates. How could she only bring her mother chocolates? She must be an ungrateful, inconsiderate child to only bring chocolates as a peace offering.

Amy watched the agonizingly slow pace of the minute hand, her resolve to stay an hour dwindling to fifty minutes, then forty five, and settling on forty as the time drew on. An hour was impossible. A half hour agonizing. Only ten minutes left before they could make their escape. Forty minutes after dinner. That was an okay length of time to stay before saying goodbye. It was a long drive back from Orange County to Pasadena and they were tired.

Yes. That was the reason they would leave early. The children were tired. Truth. She did not want to have to use her children as an excuse but there was no other option. Her alternatives were fully exhausted.

Five minutes until she could excuse them all. Those five minutes the clock slowed to a standstill, not progressing at all. Ignore her mother's jibes and criticisms. Ignore her father's cold demeanor towards Dave. She would make up for this visit to him later. At least the children were still happy. That was the only reason they were still there. Duty and obligation and a whole host of reasons she could no longer remember.

"Well, mother, I believe we should be going. It's getting late and the children need to go to bed."

"It's only 7:00," Mrs Fowler protested.

"Their bedtime is at 8:00. We really should be going."

"They have not seen their grandparents since they were babies and who knows the next time you will visit us. They can stay up late just this one night."

Amy looked at Dave silently begging him to help her. "We'd love to stay, Mrs Fowler, but unfortunately my wife is right." He smiled softly at her. "She usually is." She felt a bit of her tension melt at the kind words. She needed that. Already she felt just a bit better for the entire ordeal. "They get really grumpy when they stay up late and are not good company. It was very nice seeing you both again."

He was good, she had to give him that. Mrs Fowler was not happy at their departure but she accepted it with few extra arguments. The children said goodbye to their grandparents, happier with the evening than Amy and Dave were, and piled into the car.

Dave escorted Amy to the passenger seat and adjusted the drivers seat to his much longer frame.

"I can still drive," Amy protested.

"You're upset. I'll drive."

"You don't know where we are," she argued.

"You can direct me," he countered.

"Fine," she said. "You drive. I'm tired."

On the plus side, even though she kept repeating that evening's events in her head on the drive home, they would not have to do that again for a long time, if ever. She fulfilled her obligation to visit her parents and introduce her children to their grandparents. There was no longer a need to kill herself over it again. She no longer needed to put up with the snide remarks and the general disapproval.

She could look forward to seeing Leonard and Penny again. They, at least, gave the actual appearance of loving her and caring about her. And Dave and the children. They escaped unscathed. Well, not Dave, but at least her parents did not target him as directly as they did her.

"Let's go straight to sleep," she suggested as they pulled into the driveway. The kids, at least, were already blissfully asleep. She wasn't jealous of them. Not at all. Lie. She told herself.