A/N: If you have not watched the third episode of The Big Bang Theory from season 9, you are cautioned this chapter contains a reference to an event in the episode. This particular event has haunted me from the time I heard about it several weeks ago (I am one of the "spoiled"). It has been one of the few times I thought the writers went too far for a joke, and it was far from funny in my sensibility. I beg your indulgence in my attempt to remain in line with the television show's story, while bringing the character of Amy's mother (in this story, Carole) back from the dark place they have set her.
A special thank you to you, the reader, for your continuing patience with my story. A major change is coming in my life, and while it consumes a great deal of my time and thought, I promise to you this story will be completed (if not in the time frame I had originally intended). My unending gratitude to all who have expressed their concern. Your support means the world to me. Blessings to you all.
BANG!
The sudden, unexpected loud noise reverberated throughout Apartment 4B at 2311 N. Los Robles, causing all the occupants to jump. Even the youngest, still encompassed in the warmth and protection of his or her mother's body, startled at the commotion.
Without conscious thought, Amy reached down and rubbed the top of her belly, intuitively attempting to soothe the little one to come. The pain from the tiny pointed foot (the one that was kicking Amy from underneath her ribs) subsided, and she was able to breathe without discomfort once more.
"Penny, do you mind? I'm getting pretty beat up over here," Amy implored, jokingly.
Penny's own startled appearance softened. She had been closest to the noise and the reverberation of the expanding compressed helium that occurred during the balloon's explosion. Penny sheepishly grinned toward Amy. "Sorry, Ames."
Bernadette rushed over from the kitchen to bring Amy a soft drink in a glass, and set it down in front of Amy. The reason Bernie hurried had nothing to do with the beverage, however. Bernie reached over to place her palm on the front of Amy's well protruding belly. "Ooh… can I feel? Is he kicking you right now?"
"Still hoping for a playmate for Max?" Amy smiled at her friend, as she shifted to allow Bernie a better angle toward her stomach.
A small, curly blond haired head picked up briefly at hearing his name. Max's deep brown eyes looked quickly around the room to find his mother, who he spied near the couch. The two-year-old soon realized he wasn't in trouble… not this time, at least… and returned to the toy truck he was alternately pushing and chasing across the wood floor in the apartment.
Penny reached for another pink balloon, and strapped the opening over the helium tank handle. She twisted the valve at the top, allowing the gas to escape into the balloon. Penny grabbed another length of white ribbon, and tied the balloon off. She allowed it to float to the shallow ceiling of the apartment Penny shared with Leonard.
"Sorry, Bernie. I think this one's a girl," Penny replied; she watched the balloon and smiled knowingly as it rose in the air. Suddenly, Penny's gaze turned to Amy, and her eyes took on a mischievous glint.
"If that's the case, however… Amy, when she's fifteen, you better keep her locked up… away from 'Little Howard.'"
Amy couldn't help but laugh out loud, and Bernadette scoffed. Inwardly, Amy groaned at her friends' good natured but constant debate over the sex of Sheldon's and her child. Amy still wanted to be surprised at the end… there were so few good surprises in life… but by the same token, she was grateful she only had a few more weeks to wait herself.
Amy surveyed the apartment that Penny and Leonard had shared for over four years now. Penny and Bernadette had worked hard through the morning and early afternoon to put away all the trappings of Leonard's comic book and gaming life. The room had been transformed, decorated now in hues of baby pink and soft blue. The kitchen table was itself covered with mints, nuts, fruit-soaked punch in a bowl, and a cake that by itself took nearly half of the table space.
The clock on the wall read 1:45 pm; the remainder of the shower guests were due to arrive in another 15 minutes. In addition to Bernadette, Penny had invited several people from Amy's department at the University, and Amy's mother Carole to attend the shower.
Meanwhile, Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj had decided on an afternoon of fun at a local Paintball establishment. The Geology division had no desire for a rematch after the sound thrashing they received last month at the hands of the Physics department, however the Chemistry leadership were looking for a contest, and bragging rights.
"There will be blood tonight!" Howard intoned with a heavy Spanish accent, unexpectedly grabbing his wife for a sound kiss, before the four left 4B. Penny and Amy called out in glee, but Bernadette sighed longingly after Howard released her. She loved it when Howard performed imitations of famous actors, or spoke in various accents. But a Spaniard… it sent shivers down Bernadette's spine.
As the men departed, the guests for the shower began to arrive. It occurred to Amy how much things had truly changed. Eight years ago, Amy wandered unwittingly into this world with her first blind internet date, when she met Sheldon. That led to a friendship with her Bestie, Penny, and later with Bernadette. Eight years ago, Amy had no real friends… no relationships outside the ones with her parents, and even then the one with her mother had been strained for as long as she could remember.
Interestingly, Sheldon helped Amy to repair the one with her mother as well.
This afternoon, Amy watched as several people she knew milled about the apartment, enjoying refreshments and sharing stories and advice for raising a child. Amy took heed of the information provided that made sense, and mentally discarded of that which did not fit her plan.
The guests in attendance enjoyed a variety of games as well. Amy remembered Bernadette's embarrassment at her own shower when she was expecting Max… a game involving the length of string it would take to go around her expanding abdomen… but Amy realized now that being made self-conscious by the length of a string was silly. Knowing that the expansion was normal, and that the baby inside was doing well – that was all that mattered.
Those in attendance were gracious enough to bring gifts to assist in the early days for the new baby. Multiple packets of diapers and tubes of rash preventative cream and wipes; bottles of baby shampoo and wash; innumerable onesies, baby nightgowns, pacifiers, and toys… all were provided at the kindness and thoughtfulness of Amy's friends, new and old. Penny kept a list of the gift-givers and their gifts, to allow Amy to easily send the requisite Thank You notes. Amy's heart was grateful for all the assistance of her friends.
Toward 4:00, the shower began to wind down. People left, individually or in groups, all wishing Amy well through the last weeks of her pregnancy and the delivery to come.
As the last of the guests left through the front door, Penny, Bernadette, and Carole began to clean up what was left. Amy was shooed into a chair, specifically enjoined by her mother against assisting with picking up and relegated to relaxing and keeping the others company.
Penny was amassing the decorations on the kitchen table, but did not have the storage box she kept for the need. Carole informed her she had placed it in the hall closet, just inside the entry, to keep the box out of the way. Amy offered to get the case for the decorations, and hopped up as quickly as she could before anyone could deny her the opportunity to help.
Amy went to the coat closet door, and opened it to look inside on the shelf for the storage box. The musty smell of coats put up damp after a rainstorm and left to dry, and dust from ages past assaulted Amy, triggering her olfactory memory. There was no light located inside the closet; the sole illumination was provided through a series of external narrow ventilation slats about two feet off the floor in the door. Amy's senses were overwhelmed, and she lost her balance, falling forward. Unfortunately, at that particular moment in time, little Max found a door ajar that he knew wasn't supposed to be opened.
And so, Max did what every other two-year-old child would have done. He shut the door to the closet… with Amy inside.
Amy was immediately transported back in time to her childhood. The closet at the home of Amy's youth smelled very much like this one, and reflexively Amy sat on the floor of the closet, much as she did in her early adolescence. The fetus, seemingly sensing the growing despair and fear of its mother, started to kick and thrash around from inside. It appeared the baby wanted to wake Amy out of the stupor of the haunting of Amy's childhood, but even this call was hopeless against the barrage of memories attacking her psyche.
Amy's heart began to beat furiously… sweat beaded across her forehead… the small room of the closet that already smelled unbearably awful also became unbearably hot…
Amy's fragile hold on her own mind gave way. She suddenly and completely lost control, screaming from the top of her lungs.
Penny and Bernadette, hearts and feet racing, arrived at the closet simultaneously. Amy's piercing cries were unmistakable evidence of a soul in the throes of torture. Penny threw open the door to the closet, and reached in to pull Amy out. But Amy was in a state of utter panic. Unaware that her Bestie was attempting to assist her, Amy fought against the intruder: her arms and legs flailed to thwart the attempted rescue. Bernadette stood back, helpless against the situation. She cradled and soothed her son, as he cried with his hands held over his ears.
Carole stepped in at that moment, and gently pulled Penny back. She reached into the closet, and grasped Amy's right forearm firmly.
"Shh, baby. It's OK."
Carole pulled Amy out of the closet, and sat on the floor with Amy in her arms, like she would have with twelve-year-old Amy so long ago. She rocked back and forth, soothing Amy with gentle sounds and rubbing slow, firm circles on her back. Slowly, the loud, panicked shrieks subsided… and were eventually replaced by softer, mournful cries.
Eventually, Amy looked up at her mother; panic and fear replaced by genuine concern and sorrow. "Mom? What did I do? Is everyone OK?"
Carole nodded her assent, and cradled her adult daughter in her arms. Amy leaned her head into Carole's shoulder. Amy's eyes closed; her mind focused on the sound of Carole's regular, strong heartbeat.
Amy was finally able to acknowledge consciously that she was safe. Max took his lead from Amy's return to silence, and leaned into his mother, sucking on his right thumb. There was peace in the apartment once again.
Carole looked up at Amy's startled and confused friends. Penny had experienced Amy's night terrors in the past, but she knew this was something completely different. From the look on their faces, Carole recognized Penny and Bernadette had not experienced this part of their friend… her Amy… before this day.
Carole immediately understood, and was just as instantly embarrassed. Carole tucked her head down to her chest, and observed her daughter's similarly bent head.
Carole started, "Amy's reaction to this situation is related to a chapter of my life… one that I am not at all proud of."
Amy looked up at her mother, fully aware of where her mother was headed with her words. Amy attempted to enjoin Carole, "Mom, stop. You don't need to go any further. I know. That's enough."
Carole smiled toward Amy, but the tears started to flow in spite of her outward appearance. This time, Carole would not be denied, no matter the personal cost. "No, Amy. It's time they understood the truth. Maybe Penny and Bernadette… especially Bernadette, for the moment at least… maybe they won't make the same mistakes I made. If that happens, then all this will be worthwhile."
Amy's eyes searched her mother's, and saw that she was intent on her plan. "OK, Mom. Only if you're sure."
Carole nodded her agreement to Amy, and Amy buried herself back into her mother's shoulder. Then she looked up at Bernadette and Penny.
"At one time, I was very involved in family court cases… particularly, divorces and separations. There was a lot of pain in those homes. Parents literally at war with one another. Children caught in the middle, not wanting to choose but forced by circumstances to do so." Carole started.
"And, so often, there were no winners. The children, in particular, were collateral damage in those wars," Amy softly interjected.
Carole nodded, but kept her focus on Penny and Bernadette. "It was after a particularly ugly divorce; I was lead attorney for the woman in the case. I thought I needed to protect Amy from all of this. Get her through school. Make certain she had an advanced degree and wouldn't be dependent on anyone – let alone a boyfriend or a husband – for her survival.
And if Amy's friends were more interested in sports or boys than schoolwork, they weren't Amy's friends any longer. I made certain of that."
Carole looked down at the precious gift across her lap. "My hubris… I knew what my daughter needed, better than anyone - including her father - and it nearly cost me everything. My relationship with Rob… and most importantly, Amy."
Carole's eyes closed, as if she could not bear to witness the harm her words would cause. "I started locking Amy in the closet, starting at age ten, when she couldn't pay attention to her studies. It appeared to work; Amy never complained, but I could tell she didn't want to be in the closet. Amy seemed to be trying harder in her studies. She was always gifted, don't get me wrong, but I knew Amy could always do better. 'Good' wasn't good enough for my girl.
Later, the list of offenses that warranted time in the closet grew… if Amy was playing with a girl in school that I didn't think was appropriate, or if I heard her talking about social happenings at school instead of studying, she was banished to the closet.
I kept Amy's punishment away from Rob. And Amy continued to keep her feelings regarding the situation to herself."
Carole breathed in deeply, steadying herself for what was to come. "One time, when Rob was away at a literary conference in New York, and Amy was about fourteen, I found her reading a magazine meant for teenage girls. By anyone else's standards, it was completely tame, but at the time, I saw red. I knew this was the start of a slippery slope – Amy would end up caring more about friends - and later boyfriends -than school, her grades would suffer and end any chance of an advanced college education. Amy would become pregnant, and bound and dependent on a man by their shared children. In the end, she would suffer the same fate as all those other young women I had known from work."
Carole's eyes opened, and Penny and Bernadette both leaned backward in their seats. They could see from Carole's visage why Amy had feared her mother for so long. The look on Carole's face spoke more than her words ever could. Carole had one focus; one reason for her being in those days. Protecting Amy. At all costs.
"Rob had caught an earlier flight home from the conference, and walked in the door intending to surprise us both. He did… just as I was putting Amy in the closet. Rob was incensed; he told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever put Amy in a closet again, we were through and he was taking Amy with him."
Carole scoffed. "Interesting, isn't it? That reality which I thought I had worked so hard to protect Amy from? I was facing the very real possibility of contending with it myself. And I loved Rob… before that day, on that day, and all the days since.
So, I promised… both Rob and Amy… it wouldn't happen again. He insisted on counseling, and we went. The therapist helped me to understand that what I was doing was a form of child abuse. I was shocked."
Carole settled her gaze on Penny. "Do you remember, a few years ago, when Amy had broken up with Sheldon for a while?"
Penny nodded. It had been a dark time for both her friends.
"Amy called me – I think you were all together that afternoon. She made some small talk, but you took the phone away from her and told me the truth behind the call.
I was disappointed. It wasn't the piercing of the ears, or the cookies she made. It wasn't even that she clearly couldn't bring herself to tell me on her own.
It was that Amy had broken up with Sheldon. I knew they had problems; everyone does. But I also knew Amy loved Sheldon, and inside of myself I knew Sheldon was her match. I only wanted them both to be happy… he challenged her to grow, intellectually and emotionally, and I believed she did the same for him. I wondered how this seemingly solid relationship could have possibly failed.
Do you remember I told you to shut Amy in a closet?"
Penny nodded again.
"It was the one and only time I slipped after Rob's ultimatum. As soon as I hung up with you, I realized what I had said. I couldn't… No, I wouldn't go back down that road. So I called the therapist and scheduled an evaluation immediately," Carole said.
The room was quiet – even Max, who had fallen asleep. Max and Amy were being rocked in time, each in their mothers' arms; one on the couch, the other on the floor.
The front door opened, and three of the four Paintball players arrived, each covered in multi-hued paint marks and reeking of sweat and chemical fumes, but outwardly excited by both the experience and outcome of the game. It was Sheldon, ironically, who took note of the scene first, before the others.
Sheldon knelt in front of Amy and Carole, his head tilted quizzically to the side. Sheldon's face registered he understand something important had occurred here, but he didn't have the faintest notion what that was. Amy looked up at Sheldon, meeting his questioning gaze.
"It's OK, Sheldon," Amy started softly. "I was locked in a closet…"
"Sheldon, it's not what you think," Carole jumped into the conversation, as Sheldon's demeanor had changed from jovial… to inquisitive… to outraged understanding… in only a few moments.
Sheldon did his best to maintain his composure, but the glare he leveled at Carole that would have melted iron. The words that came forth were bitten off, one by one. "What. Exactly. Happened?"
Amy intervened, placing herself physically between her mother and husband. "I lost my balance and fell in the closet, then the door closed behind me. I don't remember anything after that; I guess I screamed and the next thing I knew, I was in Mom's lap on the floor."
Bernadette seconded Amy. "I think Max may have shut the door behind Amy. He's been doing that a lot at home lately."
Sheldon's head whipped around, and Bernie unconsciously strengthened her hold on Max, fearful for a moment Sheldon would lash out at her son. Instead, however, Sheldon's expression softened as he spied the sleeping toddler. He turned back to Amy.
"Are you really OK?" He asked her at a near whisper. Amy simply nodded.
Sheldon reached out both his hands to help Amy up off of the floor. Once he was satisfied she was settled – this time, in a chair – Sheldon turned to help his mother-in-law up as well. Sheldon was subdued.
"I'm sorry," he started. "I should know by now I can trust you."
Carole pulled him into a hug, "We've had ample opportunity in the past not to trust each other. I'm glad we can work through this together now."
Sheldon nodded his agreement, and returned the hug. Amy and her child relaxed together into the chair.
Hours later, back at their home and just the two of them sitting together on the couch, Sheldon finally heard from Amy the complete story of the events that had occurred that afternoon at 4B. He laughed through the descriptions of the games, appeared envious of the cake (although his envy tempered by disgust as he reacted to Max's unhygienic fingers diving into the cake), and remained calm as Amy recounted to him what she remembered of the events involving the hall closet.
Amy described the smell in the closet when she first opened the door. "It's true that scent memory is one of the most powerful memories we have, Sheldon. The odor of musty coats, left to dry from rainstorms long ago, combined with dust… it just overwhelmed me. I wasn't me – not 35-year-old me, at least. At that point, I was twelve-year-old me, and I knew that I was going to be trapped in that small room. The only light would come through the slats in the door, and it would be too warm, and the walls would feel as though they were closing in on me from all sides…" Amy's voice became smaller and smaller, until it fell off completely at the end.
Sheldon reached an arm around Amy, and pulled her in close. Amy could hear the acceleration of his own heart rate, feeling the fear she experienced earlier that day, and well as his own fear for her. But Sheldon's fear gave way… and Amy felt the strength underlying it. Sheldon would only ever love and protect Amy. And not just Amy, but Sheldon would also love and protect the child they created – the one that she was near to term with carrying.
Amy drew from that strength surrounding her, and finished the tale. "Today was the first time I fought back, Sheldon. Maybe not consciously, but…
Penny and Bernadette said they couldn't control my arms and legs to get me out of the closet. Mom had to pull me out herself, and I'm not certain that she isn't bruised for her efforts."
Amy leaned back, and looked up at Sheldon. "I always accepted it before. I couldn't deny my mother as a child, or my friends those years ago. But this time, I fought back. I think it was because, well, someone else was counting on me. Our child needed me to protect him or her… and I wasn't going to let this situation take me. Not this time. Not ever again."
Sheldon reached over, pulling Amy back into his chest. They were both quiet for a while, reflecting on the past and what lessons could be gleamed from it. Amy's therapy as a child, and neurobiological education as an adult, gave her a greater understanding of what had happened to her, both in years passed and earlier this day. Sheldon knew his Amy was strong before. This was just another layer of strength neither of them had known she had.
Sheldon underscored his certainty in his wife – she was strong enough to stand up, for herself and for those she loved – in repeating back to Amy her own words.
"Not ever again."