Moving day came two months later, over a holiday weekend as the California spring was changing into summer. All five men, including Amy's father, Rob, were moving the furniture and boxes packed with Sheldon and Amy's belongings on a rental truck. Across town at the new home, Amy, Penny, Bernadette, and Amy's mother, Carole, were busy unloading and unpacking. Sheldon's admonition to the other three women - to watch Amy carefully - was accepted with good humor, but completely unnecessary. Penny, Bernadette, and Carole were not about to let Amy attempt picking up anything even remotely too heavy.
The heat of the day was building, but the group had started early that morning. Even Penny had agreed to the pre-dawn wake-up call from Sheldon, to avoid the sweltering California summer weather. As a result, just before lunch time, the guys were nearly done with putting the final load from the apartment on the truck.
Sheldon was alone in the nearly empty apartment, waiting for Rob, Leonard, Raj, and Howard to return from their most recent trip downstairs to the truck. Sheldon had lived in Apartment 4A ever since starting his research as a theoretical physicist at Cal Tech in his early twenties. Now, all that remained were a few small boxes, scattered around the living room, ready to be taken downstairs. And one last piece of furniture.
Sheldon wandered about the living room where he had spent so many years, suddenly stupefied by the memories that banished all reason within his mind, refusing to let go of their hold on him. Memories of innumerable science fiction movies watched… gaming sessions with his friends that so often ran into the early morning hours… even being pinned to the floor by Penny in a last-ditch wrestling match he never had any hope of winning… it all flooded back to him.
Oh, Amy, Sheldon's heart called out while his brain continued to be held hostage by the memories of times passed. Memories of her, too… many cups of tea shared over the kitchen counter, a first "I love you, too," expressed in another moment Sheldon's reason temporarily gave way to his heart, and more recently, the joy he felt at Christmas, in learning he would someday soon become a father for the first time. And Sheldon was helpless against the power those memories held over him.
Sheldon had no conscious control over his limbs, when he walked over to stand in front of the last piece of furniture in the apartment… the leather couch.
Sheldon's eidetic memory recalled in vivid detail the day the couch came to be an irreplaceable part of the apartment. Leonard was newly his roommate, and didn't fully understand Sheldon's paramount need for constancy. At first, Sheldon found the couch abhorrent. But then, placed just so, the couch afforded Sheldon the best view (neither too direct, nor oblique an angle for watching the television), and the most temperature-regulated location within the apartment, regardless of season. Thus, the far right position on the couch became His Spot. Even after the wedding and Amy's move in to the apartment, this position remained Sheldon's.
Leonard and Raj's chatter trailed off as they walked through the front door. They found Sheldon staring blankly at the couch, lost seemingly millions of miles away. Leonard walked up to Sheldon from behind, and put his hand on Sheldon's right shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. Sheldon didn't even flinch, which bothered Leonard all that much more.
"Are you OK, Buddy?" Leonard asked.
Sheldon's gaze continued directed at the couch, but his eyes and his mind were focused elsewhere.
The front door opened once again, and Howard and Rob stepped in. Their jovial conversation was quickly stemmed by the same sight that had moments earlier silenced Leonard and Raj. Both men also immediately understood the issue at hand.
Sheldon turned his head toward Leonard. "Everything is changing." Sheldon's simple answer was nearly Vulcan… an unemotional, quiet statement of fact… almost a return to the Sheldon of old. The human side of Sheldon, however, was no longer content to be buried. This time, the nearly robotic response harbored so much more: soul-felt mourning for all that had passed here that would not be again, anxiety about what had already happened this day, and worry over other changes that would follow in the near future.
Howard stepped forward, placing himself physically in between Sheldon and the couch. Sheldon turned his gaze to his friend's face, and Howard startled a little at what he saw there. The last time Howard had seen this look, Sheldon had been running from the front window of his mother's house to get back in the rental car, on their visit to Texas several years ago. Sheldon had been deathly afraid of what he had seen at that time: change. Then, it was the changes in his mother's life.
This time, it was Sheldon's own life that was changing. And that heightened Sheldon's angst to a nearly intolerable level.
Unlike the last time Howard had seen this look, this time, however… Sheldon wasn't running.
Howard knew Sheldon was in turmoil. Years ago, this would have been cause for a great deal of teasing, and celebration that "The Mighty Sheldon Has Fallen." But that same trip to Texas had been the start of a new relationship between he and Sheldon; they had become close, and Howard drew on those memories now to assist Sheldon instead of torment him.
"You're right," Howard started, softly. He held Sheldon's gaze without wavering. "Everything is changing. You're moving… not across the country, only across town… but still, you won't be in this apartment anymore. You'll be driving to work instead of riding with Leonard. And Amy is expecting your first child in only a matter of months."
Sheldon looked down and began to tremble slightly at the last of Howard's words. Howard reached up and placed a hand on Sheldon's shoulder. Sheldon's eyes returned to Howard, and the shivering abated.
"And while nothing will be the same, trust me when I say that it will be wonderful. Do you remember when Bernadette and I talked about starting a family, how initially she didn't know if she wanted children at all? Change was scary for her, too. And those first few months after Max was born… man, they were rough. I wouldn't wish stomach problems on anyone, let alone an infant.
But Bernie and I both changed. When all this started, we didn't know what to do or how to do it. But we found out who to ask all those questions. We made mistakes, and then we learned… together."
Howard dared a small smile to Sheldon, which he returned. "And you and Amy will start this home together, and you will raise your child together. It doesn't mean the changes won't be tough sometimes, because they will. You're going to make mistakes…" At this, Howard shook Sheldon's shoulder gently, teasingly. "Even you, Sheldon… but you're going to learn from them. And once change happens, and the fear of change resolves, you are left with your new normal."
Howard chuckled, and pointed to the object behind him. "Kind of like this couch. When this couch first came to the apartment, it took some time to get used to… and then it, too, became your new normal."
Sheldon nodded, and looked around. The apartment hadn't changed physically in the last few minutes, but Sheldon's perception had. The kitchen cabinets were open, the shelves were barren; no dishes remained inside. No appliances were left on the countertops. The walls of the apartment, previously covered with memorabilia from comic books and Comic Cons and favorite television shows over the years… now were pale and stark, accented only by a few nail holes and hanging wire. There was a thin film of dust on the cabinets and wood floors, after all Sheldon and Amy's belongings had been moved or boxed.
Suddenly, the apartment felt like just any other apartment to Sheldon. He didn't belong here anymore. His home awaited elsewhere.
Sheldon stepped over to the corner of the couch, and Leonard, Raj, and Howard found the other three corners as they seemingly read his mind.
"On three, then?" Sheldon asked. Each of the others nodded. When "three" was said, they all lifted the couch, and Rob held the front door open.
On the way down the stairs, the others grumbled good-naturedly as Sheldon barked out directions.
"He's back," Raj muttered.
"Yea… sorry about that," Howard huffed, as he shifted the weight of the couch.
######
The new house was a buzz of cheer and laughter… all except for Amy, who had been disallowed from helping move their belongings into the house. Penny had caught Amy in her most recent attempt to pick up something she probably shouldn't - a dining room chair – and with Amy's mother's support had banished her to the kitchen. Amy was taking dishes from boxes and putting them in kitchen cupboards; a task Carole had agreed would help keep Amy out of trouble.
Abetted by the hormonal and emotional roller coaster that is pregnancy, Amy's temper had nearly run its course. She felt perfectly fine, and in her own mind there was no earthly reason she shouldn't be allowed to fully participate in establishing her own new home. Amy's own physicians had placed no restrictions on her, and told her after each examination that all was proceeding normally.
"This is ridiculous. I'm pregnant, I'm not an invalid," Amy voiced her complaint once again to the open air. As with all the times before she had no support in her argument. Most frustrating of all, this time no one was in the room to hear Amy vent her frustration.
Amy had finished putting the everyday dishes away in the lower cabinets, and was left with only the items that were rarely used. Those, she reasoned, could go in the upper cabinets, where Sheldon could reach them when they were needed.
But Amy's petite five-foot-four frame would not allow her to reach those cabinets, and she was stuck… but not if she was truly on her own…
A three-step stool was propped against the wall in the corner of the kitchen. It beckoned to her with a siren's song of self-reliance, and just a little bit of misbehaving. Amy's eyes narrowed with pleasure, and her smile grew as she reached for her touch of freedom.
Amy opened the step stool and latched it as quietly as she could. She stepped up toward the upper cabinet, feeling glorious in her misbehavior. A surge of endorphins rushed through Amy as she climbed those few steps, with one of the serving dishes in her right hand. The biochemical high was as intoxicating as the wine she, Penny, and Bernadette used to share on girls' nights in Penny's apartment only a few months ago, prior to her becoming pregnant.
What they don't know won't hurt them… she thought.
Just then, Amy heard the front door open, and the men bantering back and forth. The good-natured bickering could be heard throughout the house - it was obvious they were carrying in something heavy from their most recent trip back to the apartment. Amy quickly made room on the back of the top shelf for the ugliest of the wedding presents they had received. She was on borrowed time, and Amy knew it. If Sheldon caught her on the step stool, there would be hell to pay. If one of the other women did, it would be worse…
Footsteps swiftly came up behind her, and a loud, authoritative voice boomed. "Amy Farrah Fowler Cooper, if you don't get off that step stool this instant…"
Damn… it had to be her, Amy thought, as she rolled her eyes back and stepped back down with a huff and a discernable lack of grace. "Mother, really…"
"If you fall, you and my grandchild will be hurt. Neither of those options is acceptable." Carole stood with her arms crossed and one foot tapping. Amy was not going to get out of this one.
Rob came around the corner to see what all the fuss was about. Sheldon was immediately on his heels.
Sheldon had heard the entire conversation, but his mind fixated on one word only. He plowed past Rob to Amy, and took her by the forearms, checking her over. When he saw for himself that Amy was uninjured, Sheldon's concern turned to overwhelming relief. The cascade of emotions got the better of him, and Sheldon verbally launched into Amy.
"What were you doing on that step stool? Don't you know you could get hurt?"
"Oh, for pity's sake!" Amy shrugged Sheldon off of her, and stormed off. Penny and Bernadette intelligently parted – much like the sea in a tale of old - to allow a path for Amy to storm through, headed down the hallway. They looked at each other, seemingly unable to determine what their next move should be. Neither Penny nor Bernadette wanted to tackle the problem of Amy's hormonal frustration and rage. They slunk off to see what else could be done to help unpack, and stay clear of the battle at hand.
Sheldon started to follow Amy, but Rob grabbed him by the arm. Rob held up one hand, and motioned for Sheldon to give him a few minutes alone with Amy. Sheldon nodded, and Rob turned to follow his daughter.
Sheldon joined the rest of the guys in the living room, looking uncertain as how to proceed. Raj and Howard both understood there was no possibility of a "win" in this situation, and their faces expressed compassion toward Sheldon. Leonard, ever the empath where Sheldon stood, knew what to do. "Hey, Sheldon, where's the best place for this couch in the living room? You don't want too direct a view of the television from your Spot…"
Rob wasn't sure where Amy had gone, but years of experience of refereeing between Amy and her mother had taught him well. Rob found Amy in her new-to-her bedroom by following the all too familiar sounds of muttering and huffed breaths. Amy was sitting on the bare mattress of her bed, tears running down her face, and a few choice words accenting her frustration.
Rob sat down beside her on the bed, but did not say a word or reach for her. He knew Amy needed to come that final step to him. This time, it was by words instead of action.
"Dad, so help me…" Amy pounded her fist into the mattress to vent her irritation.
"It's only because we all love you, and don't want to see anything bad happen," Rob murmured to Amy; he knew the time was right. Rob wrapped an arm around Amy, and she leaned her head into Rob's shoulder.
"I know," she said softly. As ever, Amy's Dad knew how to undo her bad temper in a simple act. But getting at the underlying frustration was going to take a little more work, both with Amy and the others involved. Rob's opportunity to start Amy on the path was at hand.
"Amy, I know you've said Sheldon has difficulty with accepting and adapting to change," Rob began.
Amy nodded.
"Have you ever thought that maybe you do as well?"
That made Amy sit up and take notice. Amy looked at her Dad's calm face with surprise enveloping her features.
"Sheldon has swallowed a lot in the last two months to make this new house a reality for you both, in terms of accepting change. How long had he been in that apartment?" Rob asked.
Amy thought for a moment. "Fifteen… no, wait, sixteen years."
"Exactly. So the decision to move to a new place – and not just another apartment, but a house – must have taken some doing for my son-in-law, huh?"
Amy nodded, and chuckled. "You might say that… I thought the realtor was going to kill him or both of us before it was all over."
Rob's voice dropped even lower. Amy had to work to hear him. He reached a gentle hand over to Amy's stomach, now obviously protruding forth.
"And this baby? It wasn't Sheldon's idea, at the start, was it?"
Amy couldn't hold her father's gaze any more. "No," she admitted in a whisper. "We'd always talked about having children, from the very beginning, but to actively try… that was initially my idea."
Rob picked up Amy's chin. "There's nothing wrong with change, Amy. Everything and everyone changes with time, even Sheldon. Sheldon's grown, just in the few years I've known him. He's calmer. OK, 'change' is still a challenge, but he's willing to consider it. You wouldn't be expecting if he wasn't. He's going to be a good father to my granddaughter."
Amy snickered a little, and smiled at her Dad.
"OK, maybe that's just a little hoping out loud… But Amy, truth told, how has being pregnant changed you?" Rob asked.
"Dad, I'm fine…" Amy started. Rob arched an eyebrow and looked her directly in the eye, but said nothing.
Amy gave in. "OK, Dad. You're right. I need more sleep. There are some odors that were wonderful before, now make me sick to my stomach. I find myself eating things I otherwise wouldn't. Sheldon came home one night after work about a month ago and found me passed out on the couch with a half-eaten box of cheese crackers in my hand. And I can't stand them!"
Rob laughed out loud.
Amy continued. "And I find myself thinking more about the future. What kind of a world are we bringing this child into? How are Sheldon and I going to be able to be good parents, and make sure this wonderful baby grows into a happy, healthy adult?"
Rob surrounded Amy with a hug. "All of what you're experiencing is normal, Amy. With the possible exception of the cheese crackers…"
Amy laughed softly into his chest, but didn't let go of her Dad.
Rob grew more serious. "Amy, you have to work at change, too, not just Sheldon. Fear of the unknown is very real. It will make you want to curl up into a ball, so that nothing on the outside can touch you in your middle, where you are vulnerable.
But you can't let that happen. If you don't let anything touch you, then no one can touch you. Including your family, your friends… and this new precious one that will be here in just a few months."
Amy sat up, and nodded.
Rob stood up, and offered Amy his hand in assistance. Initially, Amy looked at him askance, and then her better nature took over and she laughed lightly. Amy took her father's offered hand and let him help her up off the bed.
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Rob poked lightly at Amy's arm. Amy relented.
"No, Dad… I'll behave myself. I promise."
Rob leaned down, and picked up the stack of folded bed linens on the end of the bed. He tossed the first item – a bed pillow – to Amy, and she caught it mid-air.
"Just don't think you're suddenly a lady of leisure, though," Rob admonished lightly, and joined her in helping to make the bed. Rob and Amy's laughter, resonating from the back bedroom, could be heard down the hallway. An audible sigh emanated from all the others present, as they recognized the weight that had been lifted.
When they had finished, Amy came out the bedroom on her father's arm. They made their way to the living room. Sheldon was sitting on the couch, verifying its new location, but stood up immediately as he saw her. Sheldon searched Amy's face for signs of distress, but he saw none. She smiled gently at him.
Just as he had done at New Year's two and a half years ago, Rob gave his daughter's hand over to Sheldon, and Amy kissed Rob on the cheek. Amy saw the memory pass in Sheldon's eyes, and knew he felt the same as she had that winter's day, repeated in this present moment.
But this time, Sheldon didn't wait to take his wife into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm wasn't trying to upset you. I just worry about you overdoing things, and either you or the baby being hurt," Sheldon murmured in Amy's ear.
"I'm sorry, too," Amy breathed into his ear. "I know you're only trying to help."
Amy pushed back away slightly, just enough to see Sheldon's face but not disengage from his embrace. "I'm capable, though. You've got to let me do what I can. Otherwise…" Here, Amy's face took on an impish grin, "… I might get used to being waited on hand and foot. I might even decide I like it."
Sheldon heard Penny and Bernadette's giggles, as he smiled back at her. Never his Amy, he knew. She needed to be self-reliant.
"Yes, ma'am," Sheldon brought out his seldom-used Texas drawl. And the rest of the gang fell apart with laughter.
Rob had walked away to the kitchen, to give Sheldon and Amy the space they needed. He found Carole putting pots and pans away in the cabinets, obviously without input from Sheldon and Amy. Rob sighed and Carole turned around. Rob raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"You expected me not to help?" Carole asked.
"Define 'help.'" Rob chuckled, and grabbed his wife's open hand. He took the frying pan out the other hand before she had a chance to use it on him. Rob yanked suddenly, and Carole startled a little as Rob pulled his wife in close for a close embrace and kiss.
Carole willingly obliged, then smiled up into his face. Her voice dropped in volume and tone, as she stroked the side of his face. "Robert, really… this is their house…"
Rob's eyebrow went back up again, but he didn't relent of his hold on her. "Yes… their house… so what happens when Amy comes to look for a pan or Sheldon wants a glass, and they can't find either for what you've done?"
"They'll fix it later. Amy didn't need to come back to all these boxes." Carole's smile relented a little. "How is she?"
"Amy will be fine. I remember someone else who wouldn't be told to take things easy when she was pregnant, either." Rob responded.
Carole's memory – near to Sheldon's eidetic standard – wasn't challenged to remember the disagreements she and Rob had held when Carole was pregnant with Amy. Carole easily and vividly recalled moments she wanted to be left to do on her own what she had done hundreds of times before, and Rob stopped her mid-stream. Carole understood Amy's reluctance to let others take over for her, but saw the situation from a new perspective – that of a concerned Mom and Nana-to-be.
Carole knew Rob was right. She willingly nodded her agreement.
The afternoon was spent moving furniture about (the gang much more willing to do so for Amy, as opposed to Sheldon's near-to-constantly changing mind) and unboxing and packing away all their accumulated belongings. The office became Sheldon's computer and gaming room, where all the paraphernalia of multiple conventions were displayed with Amy's approval. The remainder of the house took on a traditional arrangement, in spite of the leather couch prominently displayed in the middle of the front room.
Some things, like the old couch, truly were a moral imperative…
Leonard and Rob took the rental truck back when all had been unloaded, and returned with take out from the new-to-them local Chinese restaurant. All the others held their collective breath, while Sheldon took his first bite of tangerine chicken… he chewed thoughtfully…
Then Sheldon smiled and nodded. "That's actually pretty good." And the sound of relieved breaths was audible through the room.
Rob and Carole left soon after dinner, although Amy's hug for her father lasted a moment longer than usual for them. The look they shared as he walked out the door told her all she needed… he knew and understood.
The movies had been unpacked earlier, and a great discussion was held as to which movie to watch this evening. Ultimately, Raiders of the Lost Ark won the day, as all the guys agreed with Sheldon… they were going to be too tired to watch the sequels, which in this case were never as good as the original, anyway.
After the movie ended, the popcorn had been eaten and the cans and bottles put into the recycling bins, Amy and Sheldon thanked everyone for all their help, and bid their guests good night.
Sheldon brought Amy by the arm and sat with her on the couch. As inobservant as Sheldon could still be, even to him it was obvious Amy was completely worn out. Amy leaned into Sheldon's shoulder.
"We did it," she said, weakly.
"Did what?" Sheldon asked.
"The first major life change of our marriage. We moved. And we're still speaking to each other," Amy teased, with a twinkle in her eye.
Sheldon's eyes filled in where his words left off. "More than speaking to each other…" He leaned over and kissed his wife: slowly, deliberately, and with great feeling.
Amy's energy level rebounded. "Ooh, promises…" she breathed. Amy wrapped her arms around Sheldon's neck, and in a low voice made a suggestion directly into his ear.
Sheldon leaned back, more than a little distressed by Amy's notion. "Are you sure that's OK? That's not going to hurt you?"
Amy looked him directly in the eyes and smiled. "The doctor said for several more weeks…"
Sheldon scooped his wife off the couch in one fell swoop. She gasped, startled at his uncharacteristic display… and then was silenced as Sheldon kissed her while standing in the midst of their new living room. Sheldon carried her off to the bedroom, setting Amy down gently on the bed. Amy eagerly welcomed her husband to their room and into her arms with a passionate kiss.
Sheldon didn't need an engraved invitation. The verbal one had been sufficient.