Chapter 5, post-ep for 10.12, "The Holiday Summation": Compromise, Star Wars philosophy, and Southernisms—a brief continuation of Shamy's holiday in Texas.
Note: Part of this chapter is set during the flashbacks, so maybe I shouldn't call it a post-ep. Meh, it's close enough.
—
Sheldon is still rubbing his ear when his mom walks out of the room to answer her phone. Seated right next to him on the couch, it's easy for Amy to reach up and touch his upper back, and she hopes that the soft circles she traces there will be soothing for him. While she had expected this trip to have some difficulties, Sheldon deciding to get an ear piercing had never even crossed her mind.
With a cute little frown on his face, he looks at her and says, "I don't think I made a very good teenage rebel."
It's obvious, but she can't resist. "Maybe that's because you're well into your thirties."
His hand drops from his ear to land in his lap, and his frown grows to a pout. "And it seems that I was right to have skipped this teenage nonsense all those years ago. A few hours of it today has been more than enough."
She removes her hand from his back and takes ahold of his hand instead. Giving it a little squeeze, she says, "I understand the point that you were trying to make. There's nothing wrong with wanting your mother to think of you in a different way. You are not some pitiable, difficult child who's destined to be alone; you're a grown man with plenty of people who care about you. But I'm not so sure that rebelling like a kid was the best way to go about showing her how much you've grown up."
He tilts his head and squints at her. "You are able to recognize that, yet you persist in your belief that it was acceptable for you to speak to my mother on my behalf—to 'manage' the situation? That would require a significant degree of cognitive dissonance."
When he says it like that, there's not much that she can think of to justify herself. She sighs. "My intentions were good, and I do believe our relationship is a team effort where we should take into account our own individual strengths and weaknesses. But even so, I shouldn't have told your mother that we're living together, not without consulting you. I'm sorry."
Running a finger slowly along one of the defined muscles of his forearm, she adds, "You are a grown man… and no one knows that better than I do."
He has an intent look on his face as he nods, and she's pleased to see that his pout has vanished. When she leans a tiny bit closer, she sees him lick his lips and glance at her mouth. It's tempting to try to kiss him, but she knows that it is neither the right time nor the right place.
"I'm glad you understand," Sheldon whispers. Clearing his throat, he adds, "My mother, however, does not seem to have appreciated the ironic humor of my actions. I will need to approach this issue in a different manner."
She smiles at him. "An approach that won't involve making another hole in your head, perhaps?"
A smile begins to appear on his face too. "Indeed. And also one that won't involve wearing underwear on my head. In retrospect, that might have been a suboptimal plan."
"Might have been?" she asks, unable to stifle the sarcasm. "And I guess we're still ignoring the flippers. Okay."
"So it seems. As I spoke through the fly of my unmentionables earlier today, it occurred to me that there might be better ways to demonstrate that I'm no longer a child."
His mother returns to the room as he finishes speaking and says, "Shelly, I just got your old room all spruced up for you. I even put on your favorite old Spiderman bedsheets."
Amy watches her 'grown man' perk up with childish glee. He leaps up from his seat while Amy gets to her feet in a less maniacal fashion.
His blue eyes are opened wide with enthusiastic surprise. "Do you still have my Batman nightlight too?"
"Of course I do, darlin'. It's plugged right in where it used to be." She turns to Amy. "And I've got a room all fixed up for you too. How about I show you the way—"
"No." Sheldon's simple statement makes his mother fall silent. Amy is surprised not only by his interruption but also by how fast his previous excitement has been cast aside for a more serious demeanor.
Mary purses her lips and narrows her eyes. "What did you say to me, young man?"
He shifts his weight from foot to foot, but remains defiant. "No, ma'am. As we've told you, Amy and I share a living space. We will stay in my room together."
"Even if I were willing to allow such depravity in my home, your bed is far too small for two folks to share. Beyond that, I don't think your lady would care for your cartoonish bed linens."
Amy is pleased to see the indignant look on Sheldon's face. He crosses his arms and says, "Cartoons? Spiderman is a comic book character. He is from the world of graphic novels, not a mere cartoon! That's offensive, mother."
It seems that Sheldon has decided to pick a new battle. Comic books are not quite the focus that Amy would've expected their argument to take, but she has learned her lesson not to interfere. She's happy with her decision when she hears him continue.
"Besides, the bed that Amy and I always share is the exact same size. We can fold ourselves into a comfortable position on it just fine."
His mother's eyes bug out, making her look mildly scandalized. "I will not have the two of you canoodling in my house! You can sin when you get back to California where that kind of thing belongs."
"We will stay together while we are here, or we will go and 'sin' someplace else."
Amy can't hold her tongue any longer. "Sheldon!" While she appreciates his insistence that they share a bed, she is puzzled as to why he is provoking his mother on the sin issue. As much as she wants to avoid meddling again, she sees no reason that she can't at least offer her own opinion. She glances to Mary and says, "There isn't going to be any sinning in your home."
Sheldon flashes her a look of irritation, his eyebrows drawing closer together in a way that clues her in to his annoyance. She tries to give him a look of reassurance, but it seems unlikely that he will be able to read her expression anyway.
The angry set of Mary's eyebrows mirrors that of her son. Even though she continues to address his mother, Amy can't stop herself from casting numerous glances at Sheldon while she does so.
"I agree with Sheldon that we should continue to share a room while we are here." She sees his expression softens as she voices her support. "But keep in mind that we are adults, not randy teenagers, and we are both perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed while still respecting your wishes."
"Is that so?" Mary's skepticism is clearly aimed at Sheldon, who nods at her in answer, though he is a bit slow at doing so. "You'd best not be lyin', either of you. Between your father and your siblings, bless their hearts, I've about heard it all. If bullcrap were sequins, I coulda sewed myself a gown a long time ago."
"We aren't like them," Sheldon says.
"We aren't much like anyone," Amy agrees. To her relief, both Coopers appear to be calming down. Sheldon takes her hand, a gesture that shows his solidarity.
Mary bobs her head and unfolds her crossed arms. "I suppose your suggestion is a fair compromise." She shifts her gaze back and forth between them. "The two of you seem quite dedicated to one another. It's easy for me to think of you as already married, but the Lord is not so easily fooled. Let's just say that He doesn't approve of folks who eat their supper before they've gone and said grace."
Amy has no interest in discussing the topic of marriage until Sheldon brings it up with her of his own volition. She feels nothing but relieved when Mary drops the subject.
"You're a …" Mary gesticulates with one hand, obviously searching for the right word before continuing, "unique pair—and I mean that in only the kindest way. Your… unusual qualities seem to line up very well together. Ya'll are like two one-legged ducks leaning together so's you don't both end up swimmin' in circles."
Having never been likened to a one-legged duck before, Amy's unsure of whether to take that as a compliment. She decides to assume that it is and then wonders if Sheldon inherited his compliment-giving skills from his mom. It would explain a lot.
Taking a few short steps over to them, Mary hugs her and then Sheldon. When she's done, she holds him at arm's length and says, "I'm proud of you for standin' up for yourself, son." She tilts her head and wrinkles her brow before adding, "You went about it in a way that had me thinkin' I should've had you tested again all those years ago. But I'm proud of you all the same."
—
Sheldon's bedroom feels much smaller to him with Amy in it. As a boy, it had felt huge and empty, despite his many collections. These days his mother has turned his old room into a tidy guest space and put most of his childhood mementos in the closet, but even so, it somehow feels cozy and full in a way that it never used to.
Shaking off his brief bout of sentimentality, he says, "It feels strange to have you here. I never thought that I would be sharing this place, much less sharing it with a girl."
Amy smiles as she puts away her things in the empty bureau. "I can't say I ever thought that I'd be sharing a boy's room either. It's interesting to get to see this part of your life and history."
There's plenty of his old stuff in the closet that he could show her. Sheldon wonders if there's a dignified way to brag about his action figure collection while still maintaining his prior stance on being considered an adult. Probably not.
Before he gets a chance to decide whether to do it anyway, Amy says, "It's been nice to get to know your mom better too. There are so many things about her that remind me of you."
Sheldon pauses in the act of putting his own clothing away and tries to remember how many glasses of wine Amy drank this evening. "Is this about to be your version of a bazinga prank?"
Finished putting away her things, Amy begins changing into her nightgown. "No, not at all. You're too close to the situation to see it, I suppose, but it's true. There are little mannerisms that you both share, certain habits and ways of speaking, and, um, let's just say that you both have a tendency to be strong-willed."
"You're not fooling me. I know that means stubborn." Speaking of feeling stubborn, as Sheldon catches sight of Amy undressing in his peripheral vision, he ponders one last act of rebellion. Alas, he's certain that she wouldn't be amenable. That's okay. He doesn't think he could bring himself to break his word to his mother anyhow. Refocusing on the topic at hand, he clears his throat and says, "My mother's fundamental belief system clashes with my scientific realities. It doesn't get much different than that."
She finishes pulling her nightgown down over her body before answering, "I don't know. Even when it comes to that, I think you are more alike than you might realize."
"Amy, did my mother get out the hard liquor for the two of you when I was in the other room washing dishes?"
"Sheldon, I'm not intoxicated. I'm serious. You both hold strong convictions. For her it's based in religion and for you it's all about science, but those are both just different ways to go about seeking answers to life's greatest questions."
No longer concerned about unpacking, Sheldon takes two steps over to her and feels her forehead. She's not feverish. Her pupils are the same size and there are no signs of facial drooping either, so a concussion or stroke seems improbable. "I'm not sick," she insists.
"Very well. If you wish to persist with this madness, evidence-based science—or as I like to call it, reality—should not be equated to the silly stories that people tell themselves about a man in the sky."
"I'm not equating them," she explains. "I'm pointing out that the underlying motivations that drive the two of you are similar despite the fact that you both go about your lives in very different ways."
Amy takes a seat on his bed—their bed—and gestures for him to sit next to her. Never opposed to a bit of philosophy before bedtime, he decides to hear her out. Besides, listening to his girlfriend prattle on and on about a random topic is one of his secret joys in life.
"My mother's blind belief in a deity baffles me," he admits.
"Maybe it would help to think of 'God' in a more abstract sense. As much as we discover about the world through science, what we find most often is a new set of questions. The vastness of space, the infinitesimal smallness of subatomic particles… there's always more knowledge that lies outside our limitations—including answers to questions that no one has even thought to ask. What if we define the term 'God' as the vastness of all knowledge that exists, including that which is far beyond our understanding?"
Her idea to redefine the concept sounds somewhat familiar. "Are you suggesting something like 'the Force' in Star Wars?"
Amy tilts her head. "Possibly. If it helps you keep an open mind, then sure."
"I have been dragged to my mother's church many times in my youth. I never got the impression that anyone there was in search of knowledge. If anything, they thought that they already knew it all."
"Not everyone has the same inclination or capacity for scientific study that you do. Some people, including your mom, find religion to be the best answer for them. If she finds comfort in it and her faith doesn't result in harm to anyone, there's no reason to think poorly of her for it."
He thinks it over. "Fine. That's fair. But I'm still not going to church, not even for Christmas."
They are sitting close enough together that he can feel the length of her arm pressing against his. She nudges his shoulder with her own. "I'm not suggesting otherwise. I just hope that you and your mother can come to respect one another's strongly held convictions."
"I see. Does that mean you are planning to give this same speech to my mother?"
Her eyes widen in response to his question. "Um, a philosophical discussion with your mom might prove to be a more difficult challenge."
There's no point in disagreeing with that. If anything, 'difficult' would be an understatement. He nods.
Taking ahold of his hand, she says, "I know that what your mom said to you earlier hurt your feelings. I doubt that her words came out in quite the way that she intended." Smirking, she adds, "And that's another thing that you should be able to relate to, by the way."
This time he is the one who nudges her shoulder. "It is possible that I sometimes phrase things in a less than optimal fashion."
"I've noticed that." Tipping her head to rest it against his upper arm, Amy smiles. "Anyway, despite her poor wording, I hope you understand what your mother's acceptance of our living situation means."
He has no clue what she's getting at. Fortunately, she wastes no time in telling him.
"It means that your happiness is so important to her, and she is so happy for you, that she is willing to look beyond her strongly-held religious tenets. Her religion is a part of her very identity, so that's no small thing."
The residual hurt of his mother's inadvertent slight fades away as he considers her words. "She should've tried saying it like that."
After a few seconds of silence, Amy gets to her feet and turns around with one hand outstretched in invitation. Curious, he follows her lead and gets to his feet. "Are we going somewhere?"
"Not far." She points the thumb of her free hand in the direction of his closet door. "If your mother kept those Spiderman sheets, then I'm sure there are some additional keepsakes from your childhood stashed around here somewhere. You were eyeing that closet with barely disguised glee when we first came in, so I'm guessing that we should start there."
—
Amy flops her weary body onto the sofa and closes her eyes. It feels so good to be home. Visiting her own family can be a trying experience, so she supposes she shouldn't have expected anything different from a visit to the Cooper family. There is nothing quite as exhausting as the strange mix of familial love and the clashing wills of family members. When it comes to his family, she was pleased to find that the love seemed to win out overall.
She can hear when Sheldon closes the door to their apartment. "I feel like I need a vacation after our vacation," she says. When he walks over and takes a seat beside her, she opens her eyes and spots a puzzled expression on his face. "What's wrong?"
As far as she can tell, he has been very happy to be home too. And he seemed to enjoy catching up with their friends at 4A as much as she did. She's not sure what could be troubling him.
"Amy, why did Leonard ask you for a recipe for juice? It is neither difficult to squeeze fruit nor is it difficult to buy a bottle of prepackaged juice at the store. I feel like I'm missing something. Your orange juice tasted funny, and I don't see why that would be considered 'magic'."
Uh-oh. Sitting up straight from her slouched position, she tries to think of how best to explain. "The answer to that is a little more complicated than you might think. What do you remember about planning our trip?"
He tips his head and furrows his brow. "Hmm. Well, I remember packing my suitcase and worrying about what to pack. Then I planned our route to the airport and felt nervous about the impending traffic. We ate cereal together and I wondered if I would get airsick on the plane. In the security line, I was unnerved by the unwashed masses removing their footwear. Oh, and at the gate, I remember worrying that our seats might be next to the lady with the barking cough or the baby with the squealing cry." He shrugs. "That's about it. Then I woke up in our rental car."
"Do you remember how I suggested you take some Dramamine so that you could avoid motion sickness and how it also had soporific effects that would help you relax?"
Looking proud of himself, he nods. "Of course. And I took your advice right before we got in line for the security check."
"Do you recall bringing grape juice and planning to drink it at the last minute to help stay hydrated during our travels?"
"Yes, but I ended up deciding to drink your orange juice instead. I didn't want to go through the TSA checkpoint with a purple tongue. They might've thought I was weird."
Amy sighs. "Yeah, we wouldn't have wanted anyone to think that." She clears her throat and adds, "Anyhow, while you have issues with anxiety regarding turbulence, motion sickness, and apparently all things travel-related, I sometimes have travel issues of my own."
Her issues, of course, are all about traveling with Sheldon in tow. As much as she loves him, he is not the easiest person to take on a plane. Jittery, anxious, and separated from the familiarity of his everyday routine, Sheldon on an airplane is not Sheldon at his best. Unsure of how to explain without hurting his feelings, she opts to remain vague.
Rubbing his knee with the palm of her hand, she continues her explanation. "Dramamine can work for you, but I find that a little alcohol before a flight works best for me. So I added a healthy amount to my container of juice before we left. Unfortunately, the drowsiness effects of your medication ended up being combined with the depressant effects of my alcoholic beverage. It wasn't dangerous or anything, but it was enough to make you fall asleep instead of just feeling drowsy."
The confused expression on his face relaxes he comes to understand what happened. "Oh. I knew that juice tasted funny! That's quite unfortunate."
"Don't worry. It was kind of an amusing accident, to be honest. You're cute when you drool, and your snoring was drowned out by the roar of the jet engines."
He still looks a bit concerned again when he meets her eyes. "I hope you were able to have a peaceable flight without the aid of your self-medication strategy."
With the love of her life calmly snoozing next to her, Amy had looked out the window and admired the passing scenery, all the while listening to music through the headphones attached to her iPhone.
She smiles to reassure him and because she can't hold it back. "It's okay, Sheldon. I managed just fine."
—
Notes:
This chapter attempted to tidy up a few things that I felt needed some additional resolution in the most recent episode. What'd you guys think? There are a couple of weird tangents in here too, but this is chapter 5, so you all must expect that kind of thing from me by now :)