Thirteen years have passed since Georgia was born. It is the year 2007.
With the death of records thanks to CDs and increasing popularity in streaming, Jameson Records had become a record label instead of a chain of record stores. Declan didn't want to leave Texas, but Liam was happy to, resulting in him becoming the president of Jameson Records - Pacific Division. Discontent with the idea of Georgia having to go back and forth between California and Texas, I decided to move us out here. Liam bought the three of us a house close to his in Los Angeles, with more than enough space to be comfortable.
Yes, I said the three of us. Me, Georgia, and my girlfriend, Jacqueline. I'm sure this isn't a surprise to anybody. Jacqueline and I got together in 1995, to the chagrin of much of the town. Mom sure wasn't happy, but she's learned to…tolerate it, in her own passive-aggressive way. Jacqueline has punched out a few homophobes, ignoring my protests. Liam and Jacqueline don't get along, but they never have so that isn't surprising.
Jacqueline and Georgia, however, are pals. Jacqueline sometimes instigates during disagreements between my daughter and I, because she wouldn't be my Jackie if she didn't egg things on. She likes to take Georgia's side and make it just a little bit more difficult for me, but I love her. She's a good stepmother to Georgia, though. As much of a stepmother as she can be without marrying me. It's not allowed. The powers that be in California are talking about it, but we don't hold much hope for it.
Missy's a waitress at Fuddruckers, or that's what Mom told me the last time we Skyped. Georgie has been doing very well with his tire business. I'm very proud of him.
And Sheldon…well, I'm closer to Sheldon now. Physically, at least. He's got this group of friends that I'm not wild about hanging around, but I drop by every couple of weeks or so to check on him.
His roommate, Leonard, is short and desperate. His friend - if you can even call him that - Howard is creepy and thinks he's funny and whimsical because he's into magic tricks, but he isn't. He's just creepy. Creepy and childish.
Rajesh, or Raj as they call him, is shy around women to the point that he can't talk, so I don't know much about him but considering that he's friends with Howard and Leonard, I don't want to.
As I park my car outside of the apartment building, I take a moment to glance up at its facade. I feel a sense of dread wash over me. Sheldon had invited me for dinner with his friends, hoping to convince me to like them. He's aware of my distaste for them, and despite his own, he does not appreciate my disapproval. Sheldon never had friends as a child and now that he's twenty-seven and has friends, he's set on changing my opinion about them because everything has to go his way or he's dissatisfied. I'm having dinner at his apartment with his friends to placate him, not because I want to.
I enter the building, and upon seeing the out of order signs on the elevator, begrudgingly take the stairs. It's been ages since that elevator broke under seemingly unknown circumstances - I couldn't get a straight answer when I asked Sheldon about it, and they haven't fixed it yet. That's typical for housing. I start up the four flights of stairs leading to his apartment.
It's not that I don't like visiting Sheldon, because I do. It's those damn friends of his. Despite the fact that they may be great scientists…no, wait. That's literally all they are. Great scientists with childish interests. I tolerate it with Sheldon because I've long accepted he's never going to fit into a box, but when it's three other men that act like they're perpetually thirteen years old, I don't know how to tolerate it. I love Sheldon. I don't know these other men.
I knock on the door firmly. "Shelly, I'm here!"
Sheldon answers the door. "Callie, I have specifically requested on multiple occasions that you refrain from referring to me with that diminutive."
"And I have specifically blatantly ignored that request in favour of my amusement," I retort playfully. Yes, I'm 31 years old and still antagonising my brother. What of it?
Sheldon sighs resignedly. "Very well. You may enter," he says, stepping aside for me to enter. The front room is a big space, and it would be roomier if not for all the knick-knacks and action figures, whiteboards and what-have-you.
"Oh, Callie's here," Leonard announces. He's in the kitchen, cooking dinner.
"What an astute observation," Sheldon says sarcastically. "We can all see she's right here, Leonard."
I sit down on the couch, in what I know is Sheldon's spot, not acknowledging Leonard. Sheldon notices my choice of seating right away and clears his throat.
"You know that's my spot, Callie," Sheldon says, his voice tinged with irritation.
I sit back, draping my arm on the backrest of the couch. "Do I?" I raise an eyebrow, challenging him.
"You do," Sheldon confirms. "I have made it abundantly clear over the years that that is my spot."
"Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do if I stay here, Shelly?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Siblings have a way of bringing out the child in you.
Sheldon's lip twitches, signalling to me his growing frustration. "Callie, it's not about what I'm going to do. It's about respecting reserved spaces."
"Have you seen my criminal record?" I ask with a smirk. "Half of it is trespassing charges. Do you think I care about respecting reserved spaces?"
Sheldon seems disgruntled by my comeback. "Just sit somewhere else, please."
He seems close enough to losing his composure for me to be satisfied, and so I nod and move to the other end of the couch. "So, what's Leonard over there making?"
"A brisket, I believe," Sheldon says.
"Really?" I smile, a little impressed. "How long ago did he put it in the oven?"
"An hour and a half, it should be ready any minute now," Leonard answers proudly. "It's five pounds." He says, as if that's a lot of meat.
I exchange a glance with Sheldon, my eyes wide. "A couple of hours and you think that's gonna be ready?" I ask incredulously, turning back to Leonard.
"Is it not?" Leonard asks. Sheldon and I shake our heads.
"That baby's gotta sit in there for ten to twelve hours, or it's gonna feel like you're eating tires. You wanna eat tires, Jersey boy?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Leonard says, deflating.
"Then make a proper meal," I scoff.
"I propose we get takeout," Sheldon suggests. "This man is hopeless at cooking."
"If you think that, then why did you let me cook?" Leonard asks him, frowning.
"To teach you a lesson," Sheldon says matter-of-factly. Leonard looks confused.
"Szechuan Palace?" I propose. I know that's what Sheldon likes to eat on Fridays, anyway.
"Of course. I already put in the order because I knew that Leonard was going to fail miserably," Sheldon gives a slightly cocky smile.
"Now, you should put a little more faith in your friends," I say, half-scolding. "But good call."
The door swings open with a fervour, revealing Raj and Howard.
"Great, the other half of the Geek League is here," I roll my eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting…Howard Wolowitz," Howard says dramatically, striking a pose. Raj says nothing, seeming to be rendered nervous by my presence.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter under my breath. Sheldon glances at me, seeming displeased.
"So, what's for dinner?" Howard asks, rubbing his hands together. He goes to sit beside me, and I move to the chair. He looks a bit wounded by that, but still looks around for a response.
"Not brisket," Leonard says, sulking. "Apparently, I made it wrong."
"You did." I shoot quickly at him. "So we're having Chinese," I say. "Like y'all always do on Friday nights."
…
Later, we begin to dig into our meals. Soon enough, the boys are in yet another Star Wars debate. I swear, they never tire of this subject matter. It almost makes me miss my mother's sermons at the dinner table. Almost.
I find an opening in the conversation to cause trouble, "I think the Empire had a point."
The four men turn to look at me, various levels of surprise on their faces. "Callie, surely you jest," Sheldon scoffs.
"I do not," I say, fighting back a smile. "I think that they definitely had a point. They brought order to where there was none. A principal in an unruly classroom, no?" I sit back, sipping my tea.
"The Empire ruled by fear, you can't honestly tell me you'd back a system like that!" Howard argues incredulously.
"I mean, hey. If it works, it works," I shrug.
"The Empire killed countless innocents," Leonard says in disbelief.
"The Rebellion also did so. But because they're the 'good guys', it's fine?" I raise an eyebrow. I have a feeling maybe I'm not joking anymore.
"The Rebellion didn't do it on purpose!" Howard interjects.
"They sure as hell didn't avoid it," I scoff, "and don't get me started on their treatment of Anakin Skywalker and by extension, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"What do you mean their treatment of-"
"Well, the Council didn't even train Obi-Wan fully before throwing Anakin on to him as his Padawan! And that was only because Qui-Gon died," I say, surprised at how much I know about this.
"The Jedi had their reasons," Sheldon cuts in. "They had no other choice."
"No other choice?" I roll my eyes. "How about a fully-trained master, or Yoda himself? Why was Obi-Wan chosen? And don't give me none of that because he was Qui-Gon's padawan, because the Jedi have shown time and again that if they want to bend their own rules, they will."
Howard huffs. "The Jedi may be flawed, Callie, but the real bad guys here are Darth Vader and Darth Sidious," he asserts.
"Anakin was a child being manipulated by powerful people at every turn and forced to suppress or misuse his emotions, and he got his redemption arc." I say firmly.
Sheldon considers this for a moment. "You make a good point, Callie, but the truth of the matter is that Anakin's decisions were his to make, and he made them."
I squint a little at him, but nod. "Fine," I say, "I'll admit that. So long as you all admit that the Jedi are inherently and systemically flawed, no matter their intention."
Sheldon sighs. "Fine. I'll admit that the Jedi's strict adherence to their dogma without leaving room for individual hang-ups was less than beneficial to their system."
Howard hesitates, but nods. "I can see that. The Jedi Order wasn't perfect."
"I think we can all agree that both sides were flawed in their own ways," Leonard says, ever the mediator.
The conversation shifts to different topics throughout the evening, and eventually it comes time for me to head home. Sheldon leads me to the door. "Did you enjoy the evening?" he asks me.
"I wouldn't say that," I say. His expression falters a little. "But I didn't hate it."
Sheldon nods, accepting that answer. "Thank you for giving them a chance, Callie."
"Hey, they gave you a chance," I shrug. "It's only fair." I say.
"I'll have you know, I am a delightful friend."
"I'm sure," I chuckle. "Bye, Sheldon."
As I go back down the stairs, I think back over the evening. Maybe these guys aren't so bad after all. Still not people I'd like to hang out with every day, but not so bad that I'd want to avoid them every time I come to check on Sheldon like I have been doing. Maybe I'll come back for dinner next week, who knows.
…
I enter my home, calling "I'm here!"
Georgia is on the couch in the living room, flipping through the channels on the TV. "Hey, Mom."
"Hey, where's your Mam?" I ask, referring to Jacqueline.
Georgia shrugs. "In her art studio, I think. She never stops painting."
"She's always been very creative. I'll hang out with you until she's done," I say.
"Yay," Georgia says, lacking enthusiasm. I notice her expression. She seems a little upset.
"Are you okay, Georgia?" I ask, concerned for my daughter.
"It's the kids at school, they think I'm weird for having two Moms," she sighs.
"Yeah?" a voice calls from behind us. I look behind the couch and Jacqueline is approaching, paint splatter evident on her clothing. "Tell them your Mam can make it so they can't talk to you like that." She gives me a peck on the lips. "Hello, mo grá," she says with affection in her tone, "how was dinner at your brother's?"
"I'll tell you here in a minute," I smile at her, turning back to my daughter. "What are they saying? I wouldn't expect anyone to have much of a problem here in California."
"Trust me," Georgia scoffs. "They do. They say I'm not supposed to have two moms, and that I'm probably gay, too."
"Jesus," Jacqueline groans. "This is what I was worried about." she takes a seat on the other side of Georgia.
"Listen here, Georgia," I say firmly. "If they're really that interested in your personal life, that means they're bored with their own. I think you should take it as a compliment."
"I think you should take it as a declaration of war," Jacqueline scoffs.
"I think you should take that pretty little mouth and zip it," I hiss at her. She grins.
"So, what do I do? I can't just ignore them, can I?" Georgia asks, clearly irritated with her Mam judging by the glare she shoots her.
"Hey, now, be nice to your Mam," I say sternly. "But yes, you can. Bullies thrive off of the attention you give them. So next time, just act like they don't exist. They hate that."
"Just ignore the bullies?" Jacqueline raises an eyebrow. "Really? I used to beat them up."
Georgia looks at me like that's a good idea. "No," I say emphatically, "you cannot beat them up, you understand."
"Maybe you can turn it around on them," Jacqueline says. I look at her. "What?" I tilt my head.
"Usually girls who would suspect that I was gay and make fun of me for it," Jacqueline says, "they were gay themselves. You remember Gracie Estevez?"
"Yeah?"
"Gay," Jacqueline shrugs. "So, maybe they're gay, the people who are bullying Georgia."
"I doubt every single one of my classmates are gay," Georgia pouts.
"Listen, we live in a very difficult time for gay people," I say. "So I say take their power away and don't give them the satisfaction of seeing you be affected by their words."
Georgia shrugs. "Couldn't hurt to try, I guess. Anyway, I'm gonna go do my homework."
"You hadn't done that already?" I raise my eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.
"Oops," she chuckles, going into her room.
Jacqueline sighs. "So, how was your dinner with the geniuses?"
"'Geniuses' is a stretch. But it was fine. I debated Star Wars with them," I shrug.
Jacqueline chuckles. "You give them the ol' the empire wasn't that bad?"
"Yeah," I snicker.
"They hate it?" she asks.
"Absolutely."
She yawns. "Thought they would. People hate it when you give them an opinion that is right. Come on, sweetheart. Let's go to bed. I'm tired."
"I thought you'd never ask," I say with relief. "Men are draining."
"Yeah, that's why I like women. That's why I like you."
"Aren't you just the cutest?" I tease, causing her to roll her eyes.
We crawl under the covers, and she wraps her arms around me, trapping me instantly in her embrace. "I love you, Charlotte," she says softly.
"I love you. You think our daughter's going to be okay?"
"She's our daughter, mo grá," she whispers. "She'll be just fine."
We fall asleep quickly in each other's arms, my last thought being a thought of worry about my daughter, and how the world is so cruel to those who are different.