The Railroad Recalibration (8/9)
by phantagrae

Rating: G
Disclaimer: The characters and universe of this story do not belong
to me. I just like to play with them. 
Feedback: Yes, please. phantagrae@earthlink.net

Summary: My idea of how Sheldon's train journey might
have gone.  A million thanks to my super beta, FoxPhile!


Chapter Eight

After breakfast, Sheldon showered, trimmed his beard, dressed
and then set about doing his laundry, checking on the roast, and
pointedly avoiding any thoughts about his career or his life in
Pasadena.

He still didn't feel completely well, so he indulged in a mid-morning
nap, rousing when he heard his mother's car pulling into the drive.

"Shelly," she called as she entered the house. "I'm home, baby. And
look who I brought with me!"

He stepped out into the living room to find his mother and his
grandmother putting down their purses and Bibles.

"Meemaw!" he exclaimed, hurrying into her waiting embrace.

"Moonpie! It's so good to see you!" she replied, holding him tight
for a moment as he bent down toward her tiny frame. She passed a
slim but strong hand briefly over his head before pressing a kiss
onto his cheek. "How's my sweet boy?"

He simply shook his head and smiled at her, a little overwhelmed at
seeing her. He had, of course, figured he would see her during the
few days he intended to stay with his mother, but it was a genuine
surprise to see her today.

"You grew a beard!" she remarked.

"For now," he replied, unsure whether or not she approved.

"Well, let's get some of this pot roast, y'all," Mary said, making her
way into the kitchen as Sheldon and his grandmother moved into
the dining room and began to set the table.

As they ate dinner, Sheldon happily told his mother and
grandmother all about the trains he'd ridden and the various towns
and geographical features he'd seen along the way. He wasn't sure
if they were really interested, but he was happy that they indulged
him and seemed to enjoy his enthusiasm.

The afternoon wore on and the conversation wound down until at
last his Meemaw spoke.

"So, Shelly, how long are you planning to stay away from home?"

Sheldon was taken aback by her question and turned to frown at
his near empty plate, as if an answer could be found there. He
pushed the remnants of food around for a moment before trying to
answer.

"Um..." he began, allowing himself to be distracted by the task of
using his fork to push blobs of mashed potatoes into a straight line.

"Sheldon, honey," his mother spoke up, "let me take that plate, if
you're finished eating."

He looked up at her and stammered out a quick, "Yes, ma'am." He
turned back to his grandmother.

"Meemaw...I hadn't thought that much about it," he said at last.

"I find that hard to believe, sweetheart," she said, sipping from her
coffee cup.

Sheldon traced the patterns on the tablecloth with his finger.

"I just wanted to get away from there. I needed to think. I don't
know if I'm done thinking."

"What exactly did you need to think about?"

He frowned at the tablecloth. He knew that she would see right
through him if he told her anything less than the truth. He wondered
if he even knew the truth.

"Moonpie..." she prompted gently, reaching her silky, wrinkled
hand out to him.

He took it without thinking, relishing her gentle grasp.

"Everything is falling apart," he began, still staring at the tablecloth.
"Everything is changing and I want everything to stay the same. I
don't know how to fix it."

"Oh, sweetheart," she soothed, gently squeezing his hand. "You
know nothing can stay the same forever."

He scowled even more severely.

"Why not?" he asked petulantly. He knew he was being stubborn
and ridiculous, but he was trying to be honest.

"Didn't you used to talk to Pop-Pop about the expanding
universe?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, turning his confused frown toward her.

"Well, I don't understand all of that, but I do remember you saying
that things were in constant motion."

"Well, yes..." Sheldon replied.

"Doesn't that mean that everything is in constant change?" She
smiled gently at him.

"Meemaw," he answered in mild exasperation, "those changes
happen over billions of years across the vastness of space, not in
the confines of my apartment."

"Well," she began again, "you've been through all kinds of changes
in your life."

"I know," he said, turning back to his perusal of the table cloth. "But
I...I'm just...I don't know what to do."

"What can you do, sweetheart?" She gave his hand another
squeeze.

He looked at their joined hands. He loved the touch of her hand.
He had never liked being touched by others, with the exception of
his mother and his Meemaw. And Amy. He was getting used to her
touching him. That was a change that had happened in his life. It
had happened gradually - so gradually that he sometimes forgot
what his life was like before he met Amy.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, Meemaw," he said in a small
voice. He dared to look up into her eyes and her soft gaze made
tears threaten to well up in his eyes. He looked away and cleared
his throat, releasing her hand.

She took a deep breath and nodded.

"How long are you staying, Shelly?"

"Well, my train doesn't come back through Houston until
Wednesday evening, so I'll be here a few days."

"Good," she answered as she stood. "Then maybe we can visit
some more. Now, I'm going to go see if your mama needs any help
with that pecan pie I know she made last night. You want some?"

"Yes, ma'am" he replied. The thought of his mother's pecan pie
momentarily drove away his uncertainty. "May I have a scoop of
chocolate ice cream beside it?" he asked with a smile.

"Of course, Moonpie!" She kissed his cheek as she moved off into
the kitchen.

He knew that he had to make some decisions soon, but for now he
just wanted pie.

****

"Well, honey," Mary began, picking up the empty dessert plates
from the table, "your Meemaw and I are going to take a little nap
before we head back to church tonight. Did you need anything?
Are you feeling better than last night?"

She paused to feel his forehead.

"You still feel a little warm, baby," she said with a frown.

"I'm okay, Mom," he said, though he pressed his forehead into her
soft hand.

"I'll bring you some Tylenol," she said, kissing the top of his head.

****

As his mother and Meemaw were napping, Sheldon spent a few
minutes putting away his clean laundry and reorganizing his things.
His mother had been right and he still wasn't feeling completely
well, so after a moment he kicked off his shoes and lay down on his
bed, fishing his phone out of his shoulder bag. He suddenly realized
that he hadn't looked at his phone since he had thrown it in his bag
in his rush to make the train in New Orleans.

Between being drunk and sick Friday night, dozing on the train
Saturday, then going straight to bed when he got home, he hadn't
even touched his phone. And now as he tried to check for
messages, he found that the battery had run down. He took out the
charger and plugged it in to the socket near his bed.

Only then did he see that he had two messages from Amy from
Saturday and one from this morning. He put the phone on speaker
and played the messages.

"Sheldon, this is Amy. Are you okay? I got the...the message you
left last night. I'm sorry we missed each other. Are you still in New
Orleans? Call me back, please."

"Sheldon, this is Amy again. I haven't heard from you yet. You're
not angry with me because I didn't answer the phone Friday night,
are you? I was at a Neil Diamond concert with Howard and
Bernadette. I turned my phone off because we were at the concert,
and then it was pretty late. Um call me, please."

"Sheldon, I'm worried about you. Where are you? Call me back
right away! By the way, did you mean...what you said? I know you
were drunk, but... Anyway, call me, please."

Suddenly he remembered the message he had left on her phone. He
had to concentrate a moment to, think through the drunken haze of
that night.

Oh, God. He'd said...had he really said...

He swallowed hard and stared at his phone. He put it back on the
nightstand to let it charge while he thought about what he would say
when he called her back.

Sheldon tried to nap, but he felt too antsy. His brain wouldn't shut
down, puzzling over his upcoming conversation with Amy. At last
he got up and pulled the plastic tub of his old Tinker Toys from the
shelf in his room and began to use the wooden and plastic pieces to
fashion crude models of molecules. This was how he had first
begun to learn their structure when he was a child and the familiar
routine settled him. He didn't think about Amy or drunken
messages or anything apart from the elegant design of the building
blocks of science.

****

In the early evening, his mother knocked softly on the jamb of his
open door and stepped into his room.

"We're fixin' to leave for church, Shelly," she began. "Are you
feeling better?"

He looked up at her and nodded, rolling his bottom lip in between
his teeth.

"I'm fine," he replied as she stepped forward to press a kiss onto
his forehead.

"You don't feel as warm as you did earlier," she agreed. "I'm going
to take your Meemaw home after church, and then I'm going to
stop at the store for a few things for tomorrow night. Would you
like to help me do some baking tonight when I get back?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, offering her the smile he knew she
expected.

"All right, sweetheart," she said, kissing his cheek. "Do you want to
come out and say goodnight to Meemaw?"

He nodded and followed his mother out and spent one more
moment with his Meemaw before returning to his room.

Once he was alone in the house, he returned to the Tinker Toys,
knowingly stalling as long as he could before making the call he
both dreaded and longed for. He wanted to talk to Amy, since he
hadn't talked to her in days, but he didn't want to deal with the
fallout from his drunken message.

At last he put the Tinker Toys back on the shelf and returned to sit
on the edge of the bed. He stared at the phone for several minutes
before he worked up the courage to pick it up, surprised to find his
palms suddenly clammy. He wiped his hands on his pants before he
finally placed the call.

The phone rang once and then Amy was on the line.

"Sheldon!" she said urgently. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Amy, I'm fine," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm at my mother's
house in Galveston. I'm going to be here for a couple of days."

"Oh," Amy replied. "Um...how's your mother?"

"She's fine," he answered. "Since I was in this part of the country, I
thought I would come and visit her."

"I see," Amy said quietly. "So...um...how was New Orleans?"

"Well..." Sheldon hedged. "I did find that comic book store that
Stuart recommended. I found several issues that I've been looking
for. I even bought a Batman bobble-head!"

"And...?" Amy prompted.

"And? What?" For a moment he was genuinely confused.

"What else did you do in New Orleans?" she asked quietly.

"Um...I ate at three different restaurants..." he offered.

"Sheldon," she began, chiding him gently. "I think you got drunk."

Sheldon huffed air through his nose.

"Ye...yes," he finally blurted out. "I tried to call you the night before,
but you never called me back. So I...I...I had a drink...or
two...or...and then I got sick. I threw up 5 times!"

"Sheldon, you said something to me when you called Friday night,"
she tried again.

"Amy " he began, feeling a little exasperated. "I was drunk when I
called you."

"*In vino veritas,* Sheldon?" Amy asked quietly.

"Amy...I...I can't talk about that right now," he responded in a tight,
quiet voice.

"Are you saying that you didn't mean it?" she replied, her voice
taking on a less gentle edge.

Was she angry? Or hurt? He struggled to determine which it could
be. He still wasn't good at comprehending shifting moods, but he
had come to recognize when Amy wasn't happy. He knew she
wasn't happy.

"I'm...I'm just saying that I...can't talk about it," Sheldon finally said.
His face was flushed and his heart was pounding. He was squirming
as he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his free arm around his
chest to hold himself together.

"I was just asking..." she said more gently.

"Please, Amy," he said quietly. "Please don't...please..."

"Okay, okay," she replied quickly. "I'm sorry I put you on the
spot."

"Can we talk about something else?" he said with a sigh as he felt
what seemed like a physical weight come off his shoulders.

"How's your family?" she said, changing the subject.

"They're fine," he said more easily. "Mom called Missy and George
Jr. and invited them and their families over for dinner tomorrow
night. I'm exhausted just thinking about it."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Sheldon," Amy said. "You were there for
your nephew's birth. Now you'll get to see how big he's gotten."

"I don't care about that," he said frankly. "I just want some peace
and quiet."

"It'll be okay," she reiterated. "Do you have any plans to come
home yet?"

"I'm not sure, Amy," he said simply. "Soon, I guess. I'm tired and I
think I'm getting sick."

"Well, take some time to rest, Sheldon," she said. "But come home
soon. We all miss you."

She hesitated a moment, then continued.

"I miss you."

Sheldon swallowed hard.

"I miss you, too, Amy," he whispered.

He heard his mother's car pulling into the drive and he sighed.

"Amy, my mother's home. I should go."

"Okay, Sheldon," she replied. "Tell your mother I said hello. Call
me again."

"I don't know if I'll have a chance to call you tomorrow, but I'll call
when I get ready to leave town."

"Don't forget, Sheldon," she said.

"Amy, I have an eidetic memory. I won't forget," he reminded her.

"Okay," she said with a chuckle. "Good night."

"Good night, Amy."

He reluctantly ended the call just as his mother entered the house.

"Shelly," Mary Cooper called from the front room. "I'm home,
honey."

He emerged from his room, happy to see her, but still feeling a little
unsettled from his conversation with Amy. He needed to ask his
mother something.

His mother had carried a couple of grocery bags into the kitchen
for tomorrow night's dinner and he dutifully helped her put things
away.

"Mom," he began, gathering the empty grocery bags, "I was
wondering if you have a gift bag I could use."

"A gift bag?" Mary repeated, a puzzled smile touching her face.

He blushed in spite of himself. "Yes, ma'am. I...I have...something
I... Do you have one I could have?"

"Of course, honey," she answered, pausing a moment to look at
him.

****

Before he went to bed, he set up his laptop and went online to
confirm the contact information for the head of the physics
department at Rice University, where he had earned his
undergraduate degree. He wondered if he could find a place in their
physics department.

If he could study inflationary cosmology at Rice, he would be closer
to his mother. It would mean being away from his friends - and
Amy - but at this point he was still gathering data, as Amy had put
it. Decisions would come later.

He tossed and turned for a while before finally falling into a fitful
sleep.

****

*He was holding a large Rubik's Cube in his hand, turning and
twisting the rows, trying to get all the sides to align correctly.
But instead of blocks of colors, the rows had names and words
on them and he couldn't figure out how to match them up.*

*Amy, Leonard, Penny, String Theory, Inflationary Cosmology,
Neurobiology, Mommy, Rice, Chicago, New Orleans,
Pasadena, CalTech.

No matter how much he twisted and twisted, he couldn't figure
it out.

He was in Leonard's lab, working with one of Leonard's lasers,
but he kept destroying the material he was working with. He
wasn't an experimental physicist, but he knew how to operate a
laser.Why couldn't he make it work?

"The machine needs to be recalibrated," Leonard told him.

Sheldon was surprised to find Leonard there.

"Recalibrated?" Sheldon asked, wrinkling his brow in
confusion.

"It's been thrown out of balance," Leonard said simply.

"You said that the universe is always expanding, Moonpie,"
Meemaw said.

"Not my universe, Meemaw," Sheldon objected.

"Why not?" she asked simply.

"Because...because...I don't want things to change," he finally
blurted.

"You know you've wanted things to change before," Meemaw
said.

"But..."

"Let your universe expand."*

****

Sheldon sat up quickly in his bed and looked around in confusion.
Once he realized he was still in his childhood room, he sighed and
eased back down onto his pillow. He curled up and pulled the
covers up as high as possible, willing himself back to sleep.

****

In the morning Sheldon stepped into the kitchen where his mother
was making a pot of coffee.

"Good morning, Shelly," she said cheerfully, kissing his cheek.
"What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?"

"Oatmeal, please, Mom," he said, moving to the refrigerator to
serve himself a glass of orange juice.

"How are you feeling this morning, baby?" she asked as she started
on the oatmeal. "What are you going to do today?"

"I'm fine, Mom," he replied, putting a pot of water on to boil for
tea. "I'm going to have a Skype interview with Dean Bates at Rice
to ask about their physics department," Sheldon said, then, pausing
with a tea bag in his hand, added, "and I guess I'll inquire about
their neurobiology program, as well..."

"Oh?" Mary replied. "Are you going to work at Rice?"

"I'm considering it," he answered, turning away from her questioning
gaze. "If they can assure me a chance to focus my research on
something other than string theory, I might want to work in their
physics department."

"I see," she said slowly. "And what was that about neurobiology?"

"Well," he began, suddenly finding his tea very interesting.
"Amy...reminded me that if I choose to change institutions, I need
to consider her position as well."

"So she could join you if you move?" Mary asked simply.

"Possibly," Sheldon said, sipping his tea. He took a deep breath
and turned back to the refrigerator.

"Would you like me to serve you some orange juice, Mother?" he
asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Yes, thank you, Shelly," Mary answered, pausing to look at him
with a warm smile.

He smiled back at her. "What are you going to do today, Mom?"
He didn't really care much, but he wanted to keep the conversation
away from his relationship with Amy.

"Well," Mary began, beginning to work on Sheldon's oatmeal, "I
have a few errands to run today. I'm going to Walmart. I was going
to ask if you want to come along, but I guess you'll be busy."

"Yes, I'll be busy," he replied. He got a loaf of bread and loaded
the toaster.

****

After his mother had left, Sheldon set up his laptop on the dining
room table and placed his call to the dean of the physics
department at Rice University.

"Ah, Dr. Cooper," Dean Bates began. "It's good to hear from you."

"Yes, hello, Dean Bates," Sheldon replied, trying to remember to
be polite and professional, though he was anxious to get to the
point of his call.

"My assistant tells me that you are interested in an opening in our
program," Bates continued.

"Yes," Sheldon began. "I want to shift my research from string
theory to inflationary cosmology and I was wondering if you might
have room in your program for me to bring my research to your
institution."

"Why, yes, Dr. Cooper," Bates said with surprised pleasure. "I
think we do indeed have room in our program, especially for such
an illustrious alumni."

"Would there be grant money available to fund my research?"
Sheldon pressed.

"Well, I believe we do have something available, but, of course, I'd
have to verify the amount," Bates continued. "But be assured, Dr.
Cooper, we will do everything to bring you to our program."

"Mm-hm," Sheldon replied, suddenly not as excited as he had
expected to be. He took a deep breath and went on.

"Dr. Bates, could you give me the name of the dean of your biology
department. I need to speak to someone about the neurobiology
programs at Rice."

Bates frowned and tilted his head in confusion. "Neurobiology?
What does that have to do with your research in physics?"

"Um..." Sheldon stammered, "Um...it's for a colleague. Dr. Fowler
is possibly interested in Rice, as well."

"Give me a moment," Dean Bates said, picking up his telephone
and speaking to his assistant. "You'll need to speak to Dean
Edwards at this number."

Bates recited the number to Sheldon, then added, "If you'd like to
come down and see our department in person, Dr. Cooper, I think
you'll find that we've made several upgrades since you were here
for your undergraduate studies."

"Yes, I'm sure, Dean Bates," Sheldon replied. "I need to speak to
Dean Edwards right now, but I'll get back to you." Sheldon ended
the call and used his cell phone to call Dean Edwards.

"Dean Edwards," Sheldon began nervously, "I am inquiring for a
colleague about the availability of a research position in your
neurobiology program."

"Yes, Dr. Cooper," Edwards replied. "I just got an email from
Dean Bates that you are considering coming to our university and
that you were wondering about my department. Unfortunately, we
have no availability in our program at this time."

"Oh..." Sheldon replied, surprised at how disappointed he was at
the answer. He hadn't been sure he really wanted to come out to
work at Rice, but once he had decided to check on a position for
Amy, some part of him had become excited at the prospect of the
two of them transferring together. He knew that he could still
transfer his own research, but that would mean leaving Amy behind.

"If you're sure there's nothing available," Sheldon continued, "then I
guess there's nothing more for us to discuss."

"I'm very sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Cooper," Edwards went on.
"I do know that Dean Bates is very excited at the prospect of you
coming here."

"Yes, thank you," Sheldon said absently. "Thank you for your time,
Dead Edwards. I need to go now." He ended the call without
waiting for Edwards to reply.

Sheldon sat and stared at his laptop for a moment before shutting it
down and returning to his room. He wanted to explain the
disappointing situation to Amy, but he didn't want to call her just
now.

Would he really come out here without her? Would she stay in
Pasadena without him? Would this be the end of their relationship?
Could they go back to the relationship they'd had when they first
met - simply texting and emailing and not being together?

No. He knew that wouldn't be good enough for either of them. If
nothing else, he had learned that much during this journey. While it
had been good to call or Skype with her almost every night since he
left town, he knew that it had not been enough. Though he still
wasn't as eager for physical interaction as she was, he wanted to
eat dinner with her, sit on the couch, go to the movies-he even
wanted to hold hands with her at the movies.

He couldn't come to Rice without her. He couldn't go to Chicago
or Champagne-Urbana without Amy. That meant returning to
Pasadena and to CalTech. And most likely returning to string
theory.

If he returned to Pasadena, he'd be back in his comfortable
apartment. All his things were there - his comic books, his trains,
his collectibles and games and DVDs.

But Leonard would be there, and probably Penny, as well. And his
whiteboards with his string theory work - his pointless string theory
work.

Just picturing his apartment made him both homesick and angry.

If Leonard moved out, what would Sheldon's options be? Live
alone? Get a new roommate? Let Amy move in? He didn't really
like any of his options - not completely.

He lay back on his bed and threw an arm over his eyes. He wasn't
going to cry.

He started crying, and rolled over to curl up on his side.

****

By the time Mary returned, Sheldon had fallen asleep, but he
awoke when he heard the front door close.

"Shelly," his mother called. "Do you want to come and help me do
some cooking?"

"Yes, ma'am," he dutifully replied. He got up and ducked into the
bathroom to clean his face before meeting her in the kitchen.

He let the familiar routine of working in the kitchen with his mother
soothe and calm him. Cooking was something he'd done as a child,
with both his mother and his Meemaw, and it was usually a
pleasant, fun pastime, but even with his mother reminding him of
humorous stories from his childhood, he couldn't quite shake his
dark mood.

As the afternoon wore on, he knew things were not going to get
better once his older brother came along. Though he and George
Junior didn't hate each other, they had never been close, nor even
particularly friendly. George had always taken pleasure in teasing
and harassing Sheldon and had never outgrown the behavior.

After a time, Mary asked Sheldon to start setting the table and
Sheldon quickly obeyed. The rules and conventions of proper table
setting pleased him. At least he could enjoy that.

****

There was a knock on the door as it was opened.

"Hello! Mama, come see your grandbaby!" Sheldon's sister called
out as she and her husband entered with their baby in a carrier.

Mary emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and
smoothing her hair.

"Oh, let me see that sweet snickerdoodle!" she exclaimed as she
lifted the baby from the carrier.

Sheldon remained at the dining room table, carefully aligning the
silverware with the edges of the placemats and making sure the
napkins were folded in perfect thirds.

"Shelly!" Missy half-shouted, rushing over toward him with her
arms held wide. "Mama told me you were visiting! Come give me a
hug!"

Sheldon stood still, a spoon in one hand and a table knife in the
other, and waited for her to assault him with a hug. He stiffened as
she wrapped her arms around his body, but he eventually raised
one hand to awkwardly pat her on the back a few times. He was
careful to keep the silverware he was holding from touching her
body.

"Come and see your nephew, Shelly," she gushed, pulling him
toward the living room. "Look how much he's grown!"

"Yes," Sheldon said, stubbornly stopping several feet from where
his mother held the chubby boy on her knee. He was still clutching
the silverware in his tight fists. "Children do grow."

"Hey, Shel." Missy's husband Mike held out his large hand. "How
ya doin'?"

Sheldon ignored Mike's proffered hand.

"Hello, Mike," Sheldon said, hoping the man would not try to
engage him in conversation. "Um, "I've got to finish setting the
table," he said, holding up the silverware in his hands and slipping
away from all the people.

"Dinner's going to be ready soon," Mary began, still fussing over the
baby. "Yes, it will! Yes, it will!" she cooed to the baby. She then
looked up at Missy. "Are you going to put him down before dinner,
or do you want me to set up the high-chair?"

"I thought I'd keep him at the table with us for a little while," Missy
said, fishing a couple of bottles from the baby's diaper bag. "I know
Meemaw will want to see him before he goes to sleep. He can have
a bottle while we eat." She took the bottles in to the kitchen.

Sheldon took his time fussing over the table in order to avoid having
to make conversation with his brother-in-law. He barely knew the
man and could think of nothing he wanted to say to him or hear
from him. Soon Sheldon became aware that Mike was staring at
him and he looked over.

"How'd you learn to set the table like that?" Mike asked. "I thought
only girls and butlers did that sort of thing."

Sheldon stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide what sort
of answer would put an end to the conversation.

"I just like doing things right," he said at last and turned back to his
work. To his relief, Missy came out of the kitchen and pulled Mike
away to help her with the baby's high chair.

Just then there was another quick knock and Sheldon's brother
George Junior entered, carrying a glass baking dish and leading
Meemaw into the house.

"Hey, Mama," George said, offering his mother a quick hug. "Mike,
Missy. Hey, Shelly!"

Meemaw said her hellos and joined Mary and Missy in cooing over
the baby.

George came over to place the baking dish on the table.

"No," Sheldon objected. "If that's Meemaw's cobbler, it goes over
here on the sideboard."

George rolled his eyes but complied with Sheldon's directions.

"So, Shell," George began, turning back to his younger brother.
"Whatcha doin' out here? Missy tells me you ran away from home."

Sheldon huffed out a sharp breath.

"I did not run away from home and why I'm here is none of your
beeswax."

"Sure, sure," George said with a laugh. He faked a poke at
Sheldon's nose and when Sheldon moved to cover his face, George
poked him in the ribs instead.

"Man, you still fall for that one," George chuckled.

Sheldon crossed his arms tightly around his middle and resisted the
urge to tattle. Of all the things in his life that might be changing, his
brother's antagonism never would.

Fortunately, Mary came into the dining room just then. She handed
the baby to Meemaw and said, "I think we're ready to eat. Missy,
come help me bring the food out."

As everyone came to the table, Sheldon tried to maneuver himself
into the ideal seat. He wanted to avoid George, Missy, Mike and
the baby, which left him little choice.

He tried to maneuver himself to sit between his mother and
Meemaw, but somehow wound up sitting between George and
Mike.

Fortunately for Sheldon, much of the initial dinner conversation
revolved around the baby and his latest milestones - how well he
was crawling, how often he slept through the night, what the doctor
thought at his last check-up. George and Mike talked to each other
about sports and TV, while Sheldon ate and pretended to be
invisible.

Unfortunately, that anonymity ended as his mother began serving
cobbler and ice cream for dessert. Missy rose to take her son to
the guestroom and Meemaw went to help her get him changed and
down for a nap.

Sheldon accepted his dessert with a quiet "Thank you, Mom."

"So, Sheldon," George began, almost immediately, "are you still
dating that egghead girl? What's her name? Andrea?"

Sheldon scowled at him.

"Her name is Amy Farrah Fowler," he replied sharply. "Yes, I am
still dating her, and no, while she is vastly more intelligent than you,
she is not an egghead."

"Have you gotten in her pants yet?" George asked around a
mouthful of cobbler, winking across the table at Mike.

"Junior!" Mary barked. "You will not speak like that in this house!"

Sheldon's face was burning and he knew everyone was looking at
him. He stared at the cobbler and melting ice cream on his plate,
debating the merits of fleeing to his room.

"Sorry, Mama," George replied, still smirking at Sheldon. "But
Shelly, seriously, y'all have been together for how long now? A
couple of years, right? And nothing has changed."

Sheldon stared at George. Of all the ways he might define his
relationship with Amy, "nothing has changed" would not be one of
them.

In the four years he had known Amy, his relationship with her had
changed, and had changed him in ways he had never anticipated.
They'd gone from a platonic, purely intellectual friendship to a
romantic pair bond, and though they had not yet taken the sexual
step to which his brother so crudely referred, Sheldon had to admit
that that further transformation was indeed looming on the horizon.

Still, it was his own issue to ponder and no one else's.

"Not that it's any of your business," Sheldon began at last, "but
Amy and I are very happy...I mean, we're not..." His voice petered
out as he found himself unable to describe his relationship in a way
he thought anyone else would understand. He looked up at his
mother and pleaded silently with her.

"Junior," Mary put in quietly. "It's none of your business."

George looked between his mother and Sheldon and finally
nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Missy and Meemaw returned to the table and sat down for dessert
while Sheldon gulped down the last of his cobbler and turned to his
mother.

"May I be excused, Mother?" he asked, wiping his mouth with his
napkin.

"Sheldon," Mary admonished. "I don't want you running off to hide
in your room. I invited the family over to visit with you. You haven't
been home since last Christmas when the baby was born."

Sheldon sighed and tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. He sat
back in his chair and crossed his arms, waiting for the others to
finish eating.

At last they all got up from the table and while Sheldon, George
and Mike moved into the living room, Mary and Meemaw went
into the kitchen and Mary went to check on the baby.

Mike sat on the sofa, but George came up behind Sheldon.

Before Sheldon realized what was happening, he found himself
caught in the crook of George's elbow with his brother's knuckles
digging painfully into the top of his head.

"Shelly needs a noogie on his noggin!" George laughed at Sheldon's
attempts to free himself.

"Stop it!" Sheldon yelled. Angry tears spilled down his cheek as he
struggled, punching ineffectively at his stronger older brother.

"Hey, come on, y'all," Mike said, just as Missy came in from the
guestroom.

"Y'all are going to wake the baby," she grated, punching George in
the shoulder.

Mary and Meemaw came rushing in from the kitchen just as
Sheldon finally managed to land a blow in George's crotch, sending
his brother staggering into the armchair.

"What the Sam Hill is going on in here?" Mary barked angrily, her
hands planted on her hips.

Sheldon straightened up, but said nothing as he fought against his
tears, roughly swiping at his eyes and nose.

"Shelly can't take a joke, Mom," George managed to say. "I was
just goofing with him."

Mary eyed the scene before her. Mike on the sofa, looking
embarrassed, Missy glaring at her brothers, George smirking at
Sheldon. Sheldon stood alone in the center of the room, his cheeks
blotched with color, tears spilling down his cheeks, his arms
wrapped tightly around his chest.

"Junior, apologize to your brother," Mary said at last.

"Sorry, Shelly," he said quickly, not sounding sorry at all.

Sheldon did not acknowledge the apology, but looked imploringly
at his mother.

She returned his gaze for a moment and then sighed.

"Well, I think it's time we all said goodnight," she said.

Sheldon immediately left the room, not bothering to speak to
anyone.

As the others said their goodnights he retreated to the bathroom to
splash water on his face. As he leaned on the sink, he finally let
himself cry in earnest, hoping the sound of the running water would
mask his sobs.

With his friends, he could hold his own, he could easily dismiss the
barbs they cast his way and he usually had plenty of stinging
remarks to give them in return. It was usually more in fun, anyway.
However, when it came to his older brother, Sheldon found himself
reduced to an overgrown version of his childhood self - smaller,
more gullible and naïve - and for all his heightened intelligence,
unable to defend himself, physically or verbally.

It was humiliating.

He stood there for several minutes, crying and scrubbing at his face,
until there was a knock on the door.

"Moonpie," his Meemaw called. "I'm fixin' to leave. Come say
goodnight to me, honey."

"Just a minute, Meemaw," he answered, struggling to overcome the
tightness in his throat. He splashed his face once more then dried
himself, taking a moment to look in the mirror before going to the
door.

"Goodnight, Meemaw," he said, bending quickly to embrace her so
she wouldn't see that he'd been crying.

"Goodnight, my sweet Moonpie," she murmured, holding him a little
more tightly than usual. "Now, come on out and say goodnight to
your brother."

"Meemaw!" Sheldon replied, straightening up and crossing his
arms. "He was hurting me!"

"I don't want you two going to bed angry with each other," she said
firmly. "You come out and make up."

Sheldon rolled his eyes, but obediently followed her back out to the
living room where George was standing by the door.

"Now, you two apologize and say your proper goodnights,"
Meemaw insisted, drawing Sheldon closer to his brother.

"Sorry, Shelly," George said, quickly. "I didn't mean to hurt you,
really." He held his hand out to Sheldon.

Sheldon wrapped his arms around his body and shook his head.

"I will not apologize because I didn't do anything wrong," Sheldon
said tightly. "Goodnight, Mike, Missy, George."

He let his arms drop and turned to leave the room.

Meemaw caught Sheldon by the elbow as he passed and gave him
a sharp smack on his bottom before turning to leave with George.

Sheldon turned back toward her in shock, but said nothing as he
watched her leave. He turned and fled to his room.

****

He had brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas and was just
about to get into bed when Mary entered the room, standing just
inside the doorway, with her arms crossed.

He looked at her then ducked his head, crossing his arms as well.

"Are you going to spank me?" he asked, unable to look her in the
eye.

"Maybe I should," Mary said, stepping forward into the room. She
pulled back the covers. "Get in your bed."

Sheldon obeyed her, still keeping his eyes down.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," he said quietly, as he scooted down into the
bed. He studied her hands as she pulled the covers up to his chest.

"Oh, Shelly," she said with a sigh, her voice softening. "What is
going on with you, honey? I know George was being..."

"Rude? Obnoxious? Stupid?" Sheldon put in.

"George was being his usual pestering self," Mary finished. "I know
it's not right, but you've never let him bother you this much. You
learned to ignore him a long time ago."

"I was in no mood to put up with him tonight, Mom," he said
impatiently.

"From what I saw this evening, you were in no mood to deal with
anyone. You've been out of sorts all day," Mary admonished. "You
had your family here to see you and you barely spoke two words
to anyone. Not even your Meemaw."

"Meemaw just wanted to talk about the baby. I had no interest in
that," Sheldon returned. "Besides, I didn't want to have a big family
dinner in the first place. Nobody ever asks me what I want."

"Sheldon," Mary replied. "It's not always about what you want. I
wanted to see my family all together."

Sheldon looked away from her.

"I think you need to tell me why you left Pasadena so suddenly and
what's going on," she pressed.

He sighed and grabbed a handful of his blankets to squeeze in his
clenching hands.

"I told you that Leonard and Penny got engaged. Well, he told me
that he wanted to live with Penny, but not with me."

"I see," Mary put in.

"And when I went to talk to Amy about it, she started to encourage
me to try living alone, but then she suggested that she might move in
with me," Sheldon continued, his voice rising in indignation.

Mary quirked an eyebrow at him.

"And then I went to try to relax at Stuart's comic book store, but
there had been a fire and everything was ruined."

"Oh, my!" Mary replied.

"Yes!" Sheldon confirmed. "I couldn't find refuge anywhere, so I
left. I thought that if I just got away from everything, that I would
feel better. I'd be able to think about it all and then figure out what I
should do."

"Did it help?" she asked in that insistent tone he recognized all too
well.

He took a deep breath and continued.

"I thought that taking the train would help. Trains have schedules.
They stop and start according to a schedule and they only stop at
specific places along a fixed route. There's really nothing
unpredictable about them..."

"But..." she prompted.

"But the other passengers are unpredictable. Most of them don't
appreciate how special a train ride is, and most of them don't want
to know. At first I was excited just to be on the train, riding for
days with no work and no worries about roommates or anything
else. I just wanted to think about trains, but when I wanted to share
my train knowledge, no would listen to me. It was lonely. And then
I got tired of sleeping on the train or in hotel rooms with no one to
talk to."

"But I know you were checking in with your friends," she put in.

"Yes, and that helped," he continued. "But I just wanted a familiar
bed and to feel safe and to be where someone wants to see me."

"Well, as much as I love to have you visit, sweetheart," she replied,
"don't you think it would have been simpler to just go back to
Pasadena?"

"Back to chaos?" he asked with agitation. "My future at the
university is still undecided, Leonard doesn't want to be my
roommate anymore, Amy wants to move in with me, and my
favorite escape, Stuart's store, has burned down. I don't see how I
can find any comfort going back to the very things that were making
life impossible for me."

"Is that why you were talking to Dean Bates at Rice?" Mary asked.
"Do you think you'll move out here and change universities?

"I was thinking about it," he said, studying the clump of blankets in
his hands. "But that would mean leaving Amy behind. They want
me at Rice, but Amy she I don't " He took a deep breath.

"It would be more change."

"Honey, you know that things always change, eventually. Nothing
stays the same forever."

"But I hate it!" he pressed, his voice thickening. "I don't know what
to do. I don't know what I want. I just know that I want everything
to go back to the way it was!" He turned away from her buried his
face in the pillow.

"Oh, honey," she soothed, patting his back for a few minutes while
he continued to ignore her.

She finally got up to leave, reaching out to switch off the light.

"Mommy," Sheldon called in a small voice, twisting a bit of the
blanket in his nervous fingers.

Mary turned back to him from the doorway. "Yes, Shelly?"

He tortured the wad of blanket a moment before speaking again.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Mary returned to sit beside him and took his hand in her own.

"No, baby," she assured him. "You're special, but there's nothing
wrong with you."

"But I'm not normal," he objected, turning onto his side toward her.

"Remember, honey," she said, running a hand along his arm, "the
doctor said that you're okay. It's really more a matter of...quirks."
She smiled at him.

"But I have a lot of these so-called quirks, don't I? My friends
complain and sometimes make fun of my charts and rules and...and
phobias."

"They're still your friends, aren't they, baby? They help you. They
make allowances for you. You know that."

"Leonard didn't make any allowances for me when it came to
changing our living arrangements," Sheldon blurted angrily. "He
knows I hate change, but he wants to change everything!"

"Now, Shelly," Mary said, her voice quietly stern. "You knew that
once he and Penny got engaged that things were eventually going to
change. They'll get married and start their own home. That's what
people do."

"But I had already worked out a way for Penny to stay with him in
our apartment on a gradually increasing scale. I don't know why he
couldn't appreciate the logic of it."

"Honey, you know that's not what Leonard and Penny would
want," Mary replied, suppressing a chuckle. "They love each other
and want to be together."

"I thought you didn't approve of couples 'living in sin', as you put it,"
Sheldon objected.

"Well, I don't, generally, it's true," she said. "But Leonard is not my
son and Penny is not my daughter. Whether or not they wait until
they're married doesn't change the fact that they're going to
eventually live together apart from you."

"I don't want Leonard to leave me," Sheldon said petulantly, his
lower lip protruding into a pout.

"Honey," Mary said firmly, "you know that's not something you
have control over."

"Not something over which I have control," Sheldon corrected
automatically.

"Sheldon," Mary warned.

"I don't want things to change," he repeated.

"Sweetheart," Mary began quietly. "You've changed a lot in the last
few years. You have a girlfriend now."

"That's different," he interrupted.

"How?"

"It's Amy," he replied quietly.

Mary nodded silently, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Mom, why doesn't anyone understand how I feel?"

"Do you understand how they feel?" she countered.

He scowled at her.

"Are you taking their side?" Sheldon asked petulantly. "Why isn't
anyone on my side? You're not on my side. Leonard's not on my
side. Even Amy wasn't on my side."

Mary sighed and placed her hand on Sheldon's now heaving chest.

"Honey, you're getting worked up over something you can't
control," she reminded him.

"I don't care!" he grated, his breath hitching into sobs. "I can't figure
it out. I can't fix it. I...I can't..."

Mary reached down and pulled him up into her arms and rocked
him a bit, letting him release his frustrations.

Sheldon buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing like a child.

****

Sheldon awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon, sunlight streaming
in through his window. He took a deep breath and stretched
contentedly. He had no appointments and no sense of urgency this
morning. He had cried long and hard last night and his head was
stuffy, but he somehow felt better, like a malfunctioning machine
whose reset button had been pressed. He sat up and took a tissue
from the nightstand to blow his nose, finally making his way to the
bathroom.

He was very pleased that he was able to move his bowels right on
schedule and it seemed that at least his body was getting back to
normal. As he washed his hands, he studied his bearded face in the
mirror.

It was time. He rummaged in his shaving kit and squirted shaving
cream into his hand.

****

"Good morning, Mother," Sheldon said in a chipper voice as he
entered the kitchen. "What's for breakfast this morning?"

"Well, it's Tuesday," Mary replied, her back to him as she worked
at the stove. "So I made French toast. Could you get the butter and
syrup from the fridge?" She turned toward him with a plate of
French toast.

"Oh! You shaved your beard!" she exclaimed.

Sheldon nodded as he moved toward the fridge, hoping she
wouldn't make a big deal of it. He quickly joined her and didn't
even flinch when she made him join her in praying before they ate.

"So," Mary began, spreading her napkin on her lap, "what are your
plans for today?"

"Well, Mother," he began, "I was wondering if you'd be able to
take me down to the seawall today. There's something I want to
buy and I think one of those tourist shops would be the best place
to look for it."

She smiled at him in bemusement.

"Sure, honey, I can do that."

She studied him for a moment and he ducked his head at her
scrutiny.

"Are you feeling better, this morning, honey?" she asked. "You had
a hard night last night."

"I'm fine, Mom," he replied, quickly stuffing a large bite of food in
his mouth.

****

Sheldon and Mary spent the late morning strolling through the
shops along the seawall until Sheldon found the exact item he
wanted.

In one of the shops, Mary stopped in front of a rack of t-shirts.

"Shelly, would you like one of these?" She pulled a shirt from the
rack and held it up to him.

He frowned in confusion at the shirt. It had the word "Galveston"
emblazoned across the chest.

"I'm not a tourist, Mother," he said simply.

"Well, I thought I'd buy one for you and a matching one for Amy,"
she replied. She held up a smaller size as well.

"I suppose..." he answered. He couldn't imagine a moment where
he would want to wear matching shirts with Amy - unless they were
matching "The Flash" t-shirts, which he knew Amy would never
wear. But he didn't want to disappoint his mother.

Mary smiled broadly at him and made her way to the cashier.

****

Sheldon spent the afternoon packing and organizing his things while
his mother went to bring Meemaw over for one last dinner together.
He spent a few moments working on his special purchases and
putting them in the gift bag his mother had given him. After loading
them carefully into the bag, he placed the bag into one corner of his
duffel, cushioning it in the t-shirts his mother had purchased.

****

"Shelly," Mary called, from the dining room. "Dinner's ready,
sweetie."

Sheldon entered the dining room and paused.

"Meemaw," he began, studying his fingers. "I want to apologize for
my behavior last night."

"Thank you, Moonpie," she replied, stepping up to embrace him.
"Apology accepted."

He inhaled deeply as her soft perfume reached his nose. "I love
you, Meemaw," he whispered.

She kissed his cheek and he straightened up.

"Look what your mama made for dinner," she said, indicating the
food on the table.

"Spaghetti with little pieces of hotdog cut up in it!" he exclaimed.

"Thank you, Mommy!" He surprised his mother with a hug.

"Well," Mary said happily, "you seem to be in a good mood
tonight."

"I am," Sheldon replied quietly. He blushed as they stared at him,
apparently expecting him to elaborate. "I'm fine," he added at last,
pulling out his chair to try to prompt them all to sit down.

To Sheldon's relief, both his mother and grandmother seemed to
understand that he didn't want to talk about his feelings, so they
regaled him with old family stories, told in Meemaw's familiar
rhythm. Her voice was as soothing as a lullaby and the evening
served to further ease his mind.

When they at last said their goodnights, Sheldon took a moment
with his grandmother.

"Meemaw," he began. "I'll be leaving tomorrow. I have to be at the
train station in Houston in the evening. I don't want to have a big
scene there, so I'll say goodbye to you here, if you don't mind."

"Oh, Shelly," she said gently, pulling him down into a squeezing
embrace. "I miss you already, my Moonpie." She pressed several
kisses onto his cheek before finally releasing him.

"Goodnight, Meemaw," he said quietly, surprised at the tightness in
his throat.

He felt like such a baby, but since none of his friends were here, he
didn't care. Meemaw and his mother were the two people on earth
from whom he didn't have to hide his feelings. Even when he tried,
they always seemed to know what he was hiding, anyway.

His mother left to take Meemaw home and Sheldon went back to
his room and pulled out his phone.

"Hello, Sheldon!" Amy gushed as she answered the phone. "Are
you still at your mother's house?"

"Hello, Amy," he answered pleasantly. "Yes, I'm still here. I just
wanted to let you know that I'll be leaving Houston tomorrow
evening. My mother and I are going to spend the day in the city and
then my train leaves at 6:55pm."

"Oh, okay," Amy replied. "Have you had a good visit with your
mother?"

"Um " Sheldon hedged, not willing to go into all the details of
Monday's events. "More or less," he said at last. "Today was really
nice."

"How are you feeling about coming home?" she asked warily.

"Well," Sheldon began, "I did ask about the physics program here
at Rice, where I got my undergraduate degree, and they were eager
to have me back."

"Oh?" Amy's voice was barely audible.

"Yes, but you should know that I asked about their neurobiology
program and there was not an opening for you," he added.

"Why would I want to know that?" Amy asked.

"You should know," he replied, "because I won't be coming to
Rice. I remembered what you said, when I was in Chicago and I
didn't want to come to Rice without you."

He pressed his lips together and waited for her to reply, but there
was only silence on the other side.

"Amy?" he said at last. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, Sheldon," she whispered. "I'm still here." Her sniffle wasn't
completely muffled. "I'm glad to hear you won't be...that you'll
come back to CalTech."

"Yes," he replied a little more glumly. "But it means I won't be able
to change my field of study."

"You never know, Sheldon," she said more brightly. "Things might
change."

"Don't say that word, Amy," Sheldon said absently.

She chuckled at him, then continued.

"Sheldon, I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Why?" he asked, frowning at his knees.

"I've got a staff function to attend tonight. I've got to leave in just a
few minutes."

"Oh." He was suddenly exhausted. "I guess I should go, too. I'm a
little tired and I have a long day tomorrow "

"Will you call me from the train?"

"I'll be in early Friday morning," he replied. "Don't worry about me.
I'll call you when I get back to Pasadena."

"Oh," she replied simply. "Well, I guess I'll see you Friday
morning."

"Okay," he said. "Um...well...goodnight, Amy."

"Goodnight, Sheldon. Sweet dreams."

She ended the call and he looked around his bedroom.