One foot curled up underneath her on the rocking chair as she looked out over the lawn. There was a light layer of frost on the ground. The morning air held a bit of a chill. She watched the mail truck rumble up the lane. When it was still four houses away she stepped inside and poured some coffee into a thermos and slowly made her way down the steps to the mailbox. The truck lumbered to a stop beside her and the door slid open.

"Hey there, Miss Penny," a gruff voice called out. "Heard Doc was out here last night. Mary Lou okay?"

Penny handed the little old man the thermos and nodded as he handed her a clean, empty thermos in return. "Yeah. She had a spell last night and her pills weren't doing any good. He came out and gave her a shot. She's still sleeping."

He took a sip of the coffee eagerly. "You're a good girl to worry about your godmother like this. I'm sure she would appreciate it if she could."

Penny shrugged. "I love her. As long as she needs me, I'll be here."

He reached into his tray and picked up a bundle of mail and a couple of magazines. He eyed her closely. "Looks like another letter forwarded from California. Those friends of yours must miss you too."

Penny took the mail hesitantly and cringed when she saw Amy's return address. She took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "Thanks Mr. Harris. See you tomorrow."

She didn't read it until that night, before going to bed. She sat against the headboard and stared at the envelope for a long time before carefully opening it. She knew what it would say. There was nothing she could do about what Amy had to say. Her mom had written a little note on the back.

"Maybe you should call them."

She sighed and unfolded the letter. "Penny,

I don't know why I am bothering to write you. You have made it perfectly clear that you don't care about any of us by the way you left without a goodbye and how you won't answer any of our letters. Sheldon has won his Nobel for proving M theory. Rajesh thought you should know. He still thinks you might care.

Amy Farrah Fowler"

Penny folded the letter and added it to the stack in the bedside table drawer. She let the tears slide down into the collar of her t-shirt. So, he had finally done it. He had won his coveted prize. Now he had it all. She moved down and pulled the blanket over her. Her mind drifted back to those last few weeks in Pasadena.

It was Leonard trying to move in that made her face reality. She didn't love him. Not the way he wanted her to. It was impossible. She was already in love. With the tall, crazy theoretical physicist across the hall. Seeing Amy try to work her way into his apartment had broken down the walls she had built up around her love for the last 6 years. The one man she wanted more than life itself was the one man she could never have. She spent two weeks trying to figure out what to do. She had come home from work to find Sheldon and Amy locked in an ardent embrace in the hall. They hadn't even noticed her as she hurried into her apartment and shut the door. Then her dad had called. Ms. Mary, her godmother, had Alzheimer's. Her family was going to put her into a home. He was calling to let her know Ms. Mary's new address. Penny spent the day crying. She loved her godmother. She had always encouraged Penny's dreams. She held Penny the first time her heart got broke. She had been the only one to support her move to California.

By morning, Penny was packed and had made arrangements to have the rest of her stuff collected by a moving company and shipped to Omaha. She drove to Cal-Tech, broke up with Leonard, and left the state. By nightfall she was in Kearney, settling into the spare bedroom. Her godmother's family was grateful, thy hadn't wanted to send her to a nursing home, but none of them were in a position to take care of her.

The last 15 months hadn't been easy. Ms. Mary rarely remembered her. She needed a lot of care and supervision. And she suffered from nightmares most nights. On occasion she could get violent if she got too emotional or scared. Penny had asked her parents not to tell anyone where she was. It was hard, but necessary. She couldn't live her life hanging onto the past. But she still got a letter on occasion. Mostly from Raj. A couple came from Bernadette. One had been from Leonard, telling her he still loved her and was waiting on her to come to her senses. Her parents forwarded each one, not realizing how much it pained her. They knew how unhappy she was, so they forwarded her the letters hoping she wouldn't forget her friends. As if she could. She may not have Sheldon's eidetic memory, but in her heart and mind, she would never forget him.

Slowly she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of bright blue eyes and a breathy laugh calling out Bazinga.

He watched his friends mingle and laugh. His mom was over by the buffet flirting with Professor Gabelhauser. He caught the bartender's eye and raised his finger for another. A new glass of scotch was set in front of him and he downed half of it.

"Sheldon, don't you think you've had enough?"

He looked down into Amy's worried brown eyes and smirked. ""No, I don't."

She looked at him with a great deal of concern. "You know this won't help. It never does."

He shrugged and picked up his drink. "I'm celebrating, Amy. In case you haven't heard, I just won a Nobel. It's a night to eat, drink and be merry. So, I had a breadstick, now I'm having my..," he paused and counted off on his fingers, "fifth scotch. A few more of these and I'll be quite merry."

Amy glared at him and grabbed his drink. She slammed it down on the bar and poked his chest with her finger. "Stop it, Sheldon! Why are you doing this? She doesn't care! You have to let it go. Don't let Penny ruin your big night!"

He slapped her hand away. "Don't tell me how to act. We aren't together anymore. You have no idea what I feel."

"I know you are wasting your emotions on a woman who never even bothered to say goodbye. Who can't be bothered to find the time to call. Who cut you and all of us out of her life without a second thought."

Sheldon reached behind the bar, grabbed a bottle, and stormed away. He ignored the stares he got from the guests in the room. He took the elevator up to the 7th floor and went to his room. He stripped off the jacket and tie and undid the top two buttons. He grabbed the little plastic cup on the bedside table and opened the rum. He poured himself a drink and stepped onto the balcony.

3 months ago he had been notified he had finally won his Nobel. He had prayed to his mother's god that she would at least call to congratulate him. He laughed harshly up at the stars. Tonight everyone was celebrating his genius. How ironic. He was smart enough to understand the universe, but too stupid to understand that it had always been her. She was the one he wanted. Needed. Loved. And he hadn't figured it out until it was too late. And now, she was gone. All he had left was her memory.

He worked his way through half the bottle, finally passing out on the bed, dreaming of emerald green eyes and rounds of Soft Kitty.