Chapter Twenty: Chapstick on Your Chapped Lips
"Amy, what are—" Sheldon groggily said as he was at the bottom of the stairs. When he pivoted to the kitchen, it wasn't Amy who welcomed him. "Oh, sorry, I thought it was Amy cooking."
Dee smiled through the tray with circles of dough in it. "Oh no, it's fine, Sheldon. I think Amy's still resting upstairs."
After their quick visit to the Old Man and its museum, they arrived at the cabin that Frank religiously helmed as serene. Serene enough that they had to drive a dirt road 300 feet away from the minor road that is a quarter of a mile away from the major road. Sheldon believed that, indeed, they were in a cabin in the woods, secluded from the world, with only one bar on his signal.
It sat atop a slope that faced a clearing that had nothing but snow and a tiny shed surrounded by the forest. On the outside, the cabin seemed very small, maybe enough for a family of 3, but the inside proved him wrong.
It had three levels on it. The basement, serving as a recreation room was wedged into the ground, allowing the resident to enter and exit the basement. From the top, it had this illusion of its inexistence. The main floor had huge windows that met in a triangle, much like how the bow of the ship extends. It gave a majestic view of the clearing as you sit in the living room or prepare food in the kitchen.
The loft sat in a cantilever, making way for the picture windows to extend on all 3 stories. It was separated into 2 bedrooms, one has a massive deck that functioned as the roof of the car park downstairs, and one has a sliding barn door that led to a small balcony, overlooking the great room below.
Sheldon had a funny feeling when the knowledge of only 3 bedrooms hit him. One for Dee and Frank, one for Sunny, One for me and Amy . . . How is that even possible? Maybe I can sleep on the couch.
He vowed that he will never share a room with Amy if there is family within the area. That promise was even before they got physical. And now there might be a chance that Amy will jump him, or he will jump Amy, and her brother will hear it, and her brother's wife will kick him out because he's a pervert and he doesn't want to be kicked out in winter.
Fortunately, Sheldon's thoughts were quickly assuaged when Amy decided that she will be sharing one of the upstairs bedrooms with Sunny, the only bedroom with 2 twin size beds. And he will be occupying the second bedroom with a queen-sized bed. Thank God, Amy took a stand.
Back in the kitchen, Sheldon asked Dee, "Didn't you rest?"
"Well, I had a good sleep in the car. You and Amy, on the other hand, woke up early, and she had to drive for an hour, so . . . I think she deserved the rest."
"Indeed, she does," he nodded, watching her put the circular dough on top of a creamy, stewy concoction inside the rectangular pan. It seemed like she's making a casserole. "Do you need my assistance?"
"Well, let's see . . ." Dee dusted off her hands as she finished. "You can put this pan inside the oven. I've been forbidden to carry heavy stuff while bending over."
Sheldon quickly rose into action. He pulled down the oven door, tightly holding the heavy pan, and stooped down to position it in the middle rack. Days of observing her mother cook had paid off, now he's transforming observations into actions.
Out of the blue, he asked, "Danielle, is it really this cold in New Hampshire?"
She looked at him in feigned derision; he thought he did something bad. "Sheldon, I told you to call me Dee. Danielle is a mouthful. And wait till we're in January, it's harsher."
"Oh, I apologize, Dee. I'm not really used to calling acquaintances by their nicknames." He gazed down in embarrassment. "And no, thank you, I think I'll go back to California." Sheldon smiled apologetically.
Dee let out a laugh. "Well, I'm with Frank and you're with Amy, so we're far from acquaintances. And you'll get used to the cold once you survive one winter."
"How come you and Amy's brother chose to live here? Don't you like to live in big cities for big opportunities?"
"That's a complicated question to answer. It's hard to speak for both of us. Well, for starters, I've always wanted to live here in the Northeast."
"Why?"
"A home-grown Texan sometimes wants a colder, peaceful place," Dee said as she wiped the counter.
"You're from Texas?" Sheldon asked shockingly. "I'm from Texas!" he bellowed with excitement.
"Yes, born and raised in Houston, near the Space Center."
"I'm from Galveston."
Dee nodded her head, making her bun bob, "Which is a shock since I don't know anyone from Galveston. Amy used to talk about you a lot. Last year, we spent the holidays together, and I felt like I know you because of all her stories," she admitted, which made Sheldon blush.
Last year was a rough one for their friendship. The sudden loss of communication. The awkward holiday greetings. All of it was tough to fathom. But hearing that Amy talked about him—to her family, no less!—at a time where their communication was strained, he knew that Amy held him dear. Despite her not reciprocating his I love you's.
"Frank told me the same thing. Apparently, Amy had used me as a character in her stories," He rolled his eyes in jest. "But you're from Texas . . . I never met a manicured, well-versed, cultured Texan like yourself," Sheldon blatantly told her, prompting an awkward laugh from Dee.
"Oh, don't be like that. I'm as Texan as a Texan from any other state," she declared, before following it up with a bit of a downer. "Although, my parents only moved there for work."
"At the JSC?"
"Yeah. Mom's a math wiz; Dad also helped at NASA after completing his residency in neurology. Both worked during the Space Shuttle Program in the late 80s until the program retired. Mom's been part of the team in charge of designing systems used for launches. Dad's been involved with the experiments done by astronauts at Mir and ISS."
Sheldon looked amazed at the achievements of Dee's parents. Unlike his high school football coach father and church bookkeeper mother, they were no way near the caliber of their jobs. "That's impressive," he said in awe. "After your parent's success at NASA, haven't you considered a career in the space agency?"
"You might as well be a detective, Sheldon." He cocked his head at the statement. I'm a detective because I deduced something that a detective might?
"I once did, but I never thought of it when I reached college. Although, I think my brother might be going in that direction."
"What does your brother do?"
"Well, I do have three older brothers, triplets, all of them went in different paths," she revealed. "Aidan became a theater actor in Broadway; oddly, Atticus is a defense attorney in Ohio, and Atlas just finished his test pilot school in the Mojave Desert, and he got promoted to Major in the Air Force. He's the one that most likely will apply for the astronaut program."
Dee's stories continued to impress Sheldon. His brother sells tires, while his twin is still figuring out if proceeding for a bachelor's degree—after receiving her associate's before getting pregnant—is worth her time. It still amazed him that his siblings were trying their best to be accomplished just like him, but Dee's brothers are next level humans.
"How about you? What do you do?"
"I'm a doctor," she proudly announced, before continuing, "to animals."
"So you're a veterinarian…" Sheldon let the words trail. He wasn't so sure if his terminology was correct. He'd never been interested in Animal Science before; it might have changed throughout the years.
"Exactly. Specializing in emergency care."
"How about Frank?" he asked in curiousity.
"He's a professor in classics."
His eyes widened as he suppressed a tiny yelp. He hoped Dee didn't hear that. "Oh no…"
"I know you hate the humanities." Dee let him off the hook about Frank's profession. "Don't fret. He's a multifaceted classics junkie. He can speak ancient languages. He can spurt out history. He can quote from literature—verbatim, not like those phony, inaccurate quotes. Most recently, he participated in an excavation in northern Greece. So he might as well be really good in the field. But once you hurt anyone of us in here, you'll feel the wrath of an Ancient Roman torture device. He knows how those things work."
Sheldon winced at the thought, impulsively clutching his groin. He knew that Roman officials like to torture people either by using animals or by cutting off their genitals. Hero the cat was silently sleeping in the corner near the wood stove, so he knew the cat wouldn't be his demise. However, Dee had all sorts of weapons, in the form of kitchen utensils, beside her, and he knew that Frank, which in this case is the Roman emperor, would let her do the honors if ever Sheldon did the unthinkable.
Sheldon rested his imagination. "I don't see any reason to inflict pain to any of you; I could barely lift a barbell," he reasoned out. "And I won't hurt Amy either. Although, I think she might have beaten me to the punch; that lady's been pushing me around since I got here."
"Maybe she's just concerned about you following her here."
Sheldon nodded in thought. "I supposed she is." Amy did. Even though she didn't speak to him right away when he arrived at Hanover, her very first words to him were crammed with concern. "I kind of made her worried when I didn't tell her any of my plans. However, Amy seemed to be fine now that I'm here with her."
Dee smirked. "Well, it looks like she played you like a fiddle, di'n't she?"
WHAT?! A horrified look was plastered on his face. What did she say?! First off, he'd never heard that drawl in months, and to have heard it in a town where the snow is ankle deep and where there are 4 seasons in that town's state was purely astounding.
But the untimeliness of the drawl didn't bother him that much; what bothered him was the blatant sentence that almost gave him a heart attack. Did she know about what happened to them? Specifically, what Amy did to him. That awfully sounded like a confrontation from his standpoint. Amy did play him like a fiddle—figuratively and literally! Like he was some instrument in an orchestra and his cry for pleasure became its lead. His cheeks turned flushed as he remembered that time, but Dee seemed to overlook it.
Dee weirdly looked at him. "Why? What's the matter?"
Reddened, he swallowed the lump in his throat before stammering, "I . . . uhh, n-nothing. Just nothing. D-Do you need me to get that out of the oven?"
It was his only way of evading further questions from Dee that would incite any unspeakable things he or Amy or both of them had done to each other, even though the food had only been cooking for 15 minutes.
After a rather scrumptious meal of chicken and biscuit pot pie, they were off to another destination.
Amy was surprised that Sheldon was willing to be taken somewhere in the course of one day. He usually gets cranky when you take him in intervals, he wanted everything to be done in one go.
It was her turn now to drive. Sheldon, apparently, was being talkative now. Discussing with Dee and Sunny and Frank about random things he enjoys, it was a relief that it was their turn to have their turn for Sheldon to talk their ears off.
Being this her birthday trip, it was her idea to visit the ski museum and bring along Sheldon. Museums and trains were always his priority when traveling. However, when you throw in some outrageous destinations, he usually caves in after several attempts of coercion.
The tour was quick. It was Sheldon's first time, as well as Sunny's. They're both like grade-schoolers on their first field trip. The history of skiing was elaborated perfectly, with artifacts supplementing the tales and anecdotes from accomplished in the sport.
Amy got to enjoy herself too. She was still in college when her adventurous brother dragged her here in her freshman year. She wasn't able to take everything they did on that adventure because of her face being stuck in her books.
As they were walking across to reach the other building, Amy remembered to ask Sheldon a question. "Are you afraid of heights?"
"I know you were gonna ask me that. I think I have an idea of where you'll bring me." When they were going on the road to the museum, Sheldon saw the ski lifts bringing people up the mountain.
"Oh, no . . ." Amy quickly dismissed, realizing Sheldon's concern. "We can't ride ski lifts if we're not skiing."
He sighed. "That's reassuring."
"But we'll ride the aerial tramway up the summit." She smiled as she pointed up to where a cable car emerged from the other building. "Don't worry the weather is forgiving today."
Where did that come from? He didn't see it when they entered the ski museum, so seeing the cable car climb up the mountain was surprising. The last cable car he'd ridden was in San Francisco, and that was less terrifying because it was a land cable car. When he saw it ascend the mountain, with the car almost 15 feet from the ground, it was absolutely terrifying.
"They say that you can see three states and Canada at the summit. I've never ridden this in winter, but let's see what awaits us at the top," Amy whispered to Sheldon who kept his cool while they were getting farther and farther from the foot of the mountain.
As they were climbing up, there were white rivers of all sizes snaking the whole height of the mountain. At a second look, he realized that they were not rivers, instead, they were the pistes used by skiers. The view was mesmerizing, seeing the tiny people swerving and dancing along the white slopes to reach the foot of the mountain, only to ride a ski lift and ebb once more.
When disembarking in the roofed viewing deck, he turned to Amy and whispered, "That's not a lot of views."
She looked at him quizzically. "Mount Washington right there." Pointing at their northeast, a silhouette of a white mountain from afar. She dragged him to face north, directing his attention to the piece of land on the other side of a barely visible river. "Oh, I can see a bit of Vermont right there. That river, you see? That's the same river we were riding along when we got clothes for you. The one I said was separating Vermont and New Hampshire."
Amy stayed a little longer facing their north, seeing Sheldon's serious attempt to make the shape of the river she's been talking about. "Sadly, no Canada for us today."
Sheldon took in a lot of air and exhaled a large amount of smoke from his mouth. That smoke that he usually sees in movies whenever the setting was cold, came in action today. He might be doing that since he arrived in New Hampshire, but it was only now that they were up a mountain when he noticed it. Such a fascinating thing. "The air's a bit thin up here." His teeth chattered a little bit.
"We're up four thousand feet."
Amy dragged Sheldon so they can take a seat on a bench facing the view. She watched him for a while, so deep in his thoughts. The way his forehead furrowed as his lips curled in thought. His scarf was obscuring his jaw, for which he would tighten and untighten it as he was pondering. Was he thinking about Pasadena? Was he thinking about his family? Was he thinking about her? Wishful thinking, but it couldn't hurt.
"Why are you so quiet?"
"I'm taking in the view." A frown was in his face as he looked around. He wasn't angry or anything, what he's seeing was just different than any other places he'd seen.
"You've seen a lot of snowy mountains before?"
He shook his head, his knitted hat quivering. "Well, my father has a sister in New Mexico. They brought us skiing during the holidays. But it's not as snowy and not as cold as this place. It looked kinda fake."
Sheldon broke the silence when he turned to Amy. "Can I ask you something?"
She gestured her head to allow him.
Biting his lower lip, Sheldon stared at her in hesitation. "Why didn't you tell me that you had a brother?"
"It never came up."
"Why didn't it?" Amy can see hurt in his face. With his tone raising an octave, Sheldon was so eager to know that he forgot that they were in a public space.
Amy looked at him in remorse. She might have crossed too many lines and too many boundaries to even prolong his hurting. Determined to tell Sheldon, she began with a cheery memory from the past, "Remember when we would talk for hours in the past years?"
Amy's smile rendered Sheldon calm and collected. He listened to her keenly, as he remembered those times. "Well, you did most of the talking?"
He looked at her, confused. Frowning, he tried to defend himself, "I most certainly did not."
"You kinda did." Amy was apologetic enough by hesitating to tell him, and she did anyway. "But I've got nothing against you or your stories. I enjoyed your them. All of them, Sheldon."
Another smile formed in his face when Amy told him how much she enjoyed his tales. He pretty much felt the same thing. He liked it when Amy listened to his stories because she was never condescending, and she would never ridicule him. But he felt guilty that he'd been doing that to her. "How can you not tell me? I've been stealing the spotlight away from you."
Amy sneered, rolling her eyes. "Oh, don't be overdramatic. You know I'm not quite fond of blabbing and blabbing for hours. I'd rather listen to someone talk."
"But that's unfair. You know a lot more about me than I know about you." Now, Sheldon's siding with Amy. This instance was, by far, his fastest acknowledgment of his mistakes. He wanted to let her know that he did her wrong, and he wanted to redeem himself. It may be a futile disagreement, but when it comes to Amy, it was nerve futile.
"Let's change roles now," she suggested, which relieved Sheldon because he doesn't have to think on her behalf. "I'll talk, and you'll be the listener."
"Very well. I'll ask you questions."
"Just keep it short we only have 15 minutes here in the deck."
He nodded, combing through his mind the very first no-nonsense question he could ask. "Frank's your half-brother, right? How so?"
Amy smiled at his choice of question. "Well, Dad had him when he was 21. Two years later Dad and Frank's mom separated. And they moved to St. Louis while Dad moved to California and started his family there."
"If you were in California and they were in St. Louis, how come you and Frank are so close to each other? Do you take turns vacationing?"
"I don't know if I have the authority to tell you this, but Frank's mom passed away when he was 8," Amy revealed with a painful expression on her face. "I won't tell you why, you'd have to ask him. But Dad fought for his custody."
"We grew up together. I was only 2 when he moved in. He told me when he first arrived in our house, he saw me clutching this stuffed toy while yelling 'Boo Bear' like I own the place. Between my mother and me, Frank said I was the one who ran up to him, still clutching my bear, and jumped into his arms. That was only our second meeting and yet he said that I was treating him like we knew each other that long."
If the previous statement made Amy somber, her next statement made her reminiscent and all smiles. A twitch in Sheldon's chest made him realize that Amy's stories were just as important to him, if not they were more important than his. That hearing Amy's stories compared to his stories proved that indeed they were very similar yet very different people from one another.
"Why haven't you told me any of this?" Sheldon asked, only realizing that he knew the answer to the question. "Wait, I know. It's my fault. But Amy I love hearing your stories."
"You never asked." She said it like she was sorry. He doesn't want her to be sorry; he should be sorry.
Sheldon sighed when he knew Amy was telling the truth. "See when you don't tell me you have a brother? I got irrational. I could bury myself into the snow if it weren't for your brother's warm demeanor. I thought he was going to strangle me when we were waiting outside their house."
"Oh, Frank would never do that. Just don't hurt his family." She smiled at him, and his heart melted. How can he not declare his admiration for this woman? She handles everything seamlessly, like a raft calmly flowing with the river.
Don't hurt his family. A recurring theme to his New Hampshire trip. Do they value family to that extent? Or do they not trust him that he'll never hurt anybody. He'd been told that when it comes to hurting someone, he can sometimes do it verbally, without his knowledge. But he draws the line to being physically violent. He doesn't want that. He can't stomach it.
Amy noticed how deep in his thoughts Sheldon was again.
She was elated that she got to tell her stories. She knew they weren't even at the tip of it, but having the knowledge that they might dig even deeper calmed her soul. Unlike the Sheldon she knew 4 years ago, this one was a listener—a generous one. She doesn't want him to change who he was—she still likes it when Sheldon gets a bit dramatic about something, or when he gets unnerved by something new—but she's glad that he's open to exploring some things he might not in the past.
Feeding off Amy's happiness, Sheldon proceeded to tell what she missed during the day. "Amy, Sunny and I got acquainted in the car, while you were sleeping. And Dee and I got acquainted as well when she was cooking that mean chicken pot pie. Who could've thought you could use biscuits as your pastry?! Did you know that she was from Texas?"
That's what she always likes from his stories—it's brimming with emotions even strangers could feel him. "Of course, I do and both she and Frank know a lot about you because of your stories. They wanted to hear it so I blabbed about it."
Still on cloud nine, he wanted to know what stories Amy told to her brother.
He grinned. "Did you tell them that I had a signed Leonard Nimoy napkin?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell them about my Lego Millenium Falcon and Death Star, and how I completed it each one of it in under 20 hours scattered throughout weekends?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell them how I did it again thrice?"
Amy rolled her eyes in jest and nodded.
"Did you tell them about all the restraining orders that I have?"
"Yes," she replied before listing it with her hands, "Nimoy, Carl Sagan, Stan Lee, and most recently, Bill Nye."
Sheldon grinned, bobbing his head. "Ahh! I just got goosebumps when you said those names."
"Hmm… Did you tell them how much you mean to me?"
Amy caught herself before cooing at that sweet remark. Instead of a shy smile and a blush on her cheek, what she had was a smug smirk. Sheldon thought he would win and render her crimson; he's more than wrong.
"If you'd like, you can tell them yourself," she suggested, matching the game Sheldon was playing.
To even match her, Sheldon rested his arm on the backrest and leaned in. "How do you want me to do that?"
Amy didn't know if it would get her in trouble but she had to try. She leaned in as well, only a few inches away from his face. "Well, they say that actions speak louder than words. Maybe you should digest that," she suggested in a manner she usually wouldn't.
Sheldon huffed and shook his head. "I know what you're playing, sister. You want me to participate in a public display of affection, don't you?"
Amy snorted and pulled away from his face. "It's true what they say: you really are a genius."
Unmoved, Sheldon put his hand on his chin, as though he was thinking. "Hmm… let's see what we can do."
"Wait… Are you—"
Before Amy could finish her question, Sheldon's lips stopped her. It was a light peck, but it brought warmth to her lips.
"Serious? Yes, I am. Now, did they see us?" he asked, stopping himself from looking back. Amy's family was just behind him, and he doesn't want to appear that he's getting their attention.
"I—uhh—I don't, I don't think so. I don't know, Sheldon. I wasn't looking," Amy responded in shock. She peeked her head just a little and no one was facing them.
Sheldon hissed. "Maybe we should up the duration, don't you think?"
He kissed her again. This time, he made sure that it was much longer and more convincing. He lightly put his hand on her nape and played with her loose hair
He pulled away, making a sound. "Was it effective?"
Amy widened her eyes, quickly ducking down as she covered her face with her hand. "Oh God, this is embarrassing."
Sheldon swatted his hand. "Oh, it's fine Amy," he reassured, giving her arm a light pat. "Did they see us? Did they see us?"
Amy looked up and her family was still busy talking on the other bench. They're not looking! Still flushed and embarrassed, she gazed back in an anticipating Sheldon.
"Where is the lip balm I bought you? Your lips are very chapped, Sheldon," she said in concern. In no way she felt that Sheldon's lips were dry; she didn't notice it. But seeing that they were thousands of feet from the ground, his lips would be bleeding if he didn't moisturize it soon.
"Wait a second." He scampered for his pockets, removing the cover of that thin stick. "Make sure that they see us," Sheldon murmured inaudibly as he lined his lips with the lip balm over and over again.
Amy gestured her hands to speed up Sheldon. If he wanted them to see their PDA, he should've thought this through. "Hurry up! They're letting people back in," she demanded as the people queued in place.
Sheldon growled, "Come here."
He sounded like he was in a hurry, like they were catching something. But when Sheldon's lips landed, it was soft and unhurried. Amy's hand found its way on his chest, caressing the wool of his coat. Sheldon returned his hold on her nape, but this time, his other hand landed on her thigh.
Their last kiss was that night when pleasure was brought upon Sheldon. For some reason, neither of them timed the kiss, and the only thing that got them separated was Amy's phone ringing. Quickly separating from Sheldon's eager mouth, she whisked the phone from her pocket, struggling with her gloved hand. She saw the caller ID, looked up to the caller, and saw her brother grinning at them like an idiot.