Chapter Forty-Four: The Olive Branch

Harper wasn't beautiful now. Amy stared at her in shock, unable to believe what she was seeing. It was like the pretty, arrogant and entitled coating that was always wrapped around her younger sibling had melted off, leaving behind nothing more than a shattered, frightened, and insecure creature.

Harper's hand was still wrapped around Amy's wrist in a clinging way, as if she were terrified she would collapse into dust if Amy walked away. Neither woman spoke for a long silence. They simply traded stares, as if seeing the other for the first time. Their vulnerabilities, fears, and tragedies were naked wounds exposed to the world. They each sifted through the other's emotional baggage, not casting judgement or barbed comment. They were so different from each other—and always would be—yet their wounds were similarly deep and similarly painful. That fact was one that could never again be ignored.

Finally, as if coming back to herself slightly, Harper released Amy and stepped back. Shame flooded the blonde's expression as she turned her eyes to the ground. Amy watched her, unsure what to do or say. A moment ago, she'd have been intent to leave and never look back. But something had changed. She couldn't say for sure what it was, only that there was a new and fragile understanding forged between her and Harper, a bond that hadn't existed before. A bond that, if Amy was being honest with herself, was oddly comforting.

"Amy, I … I'm …" Harper took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She looked away, biting her lip a moment before beginning again. "I'm just ... I'm sorry." It was almost as if she were afraid of speaking too much, afraid her mouth would betray her.

Amy could understand the concept. She was horrified of everything she'd said minutes before. Not only because that kind of anger wasn't something she usually allowed herself to give into, but also because she'd been terribly cruel. As the recipient of so much cruelty in her life, she'd always tried to hold herself to a higher standard. And now, no matter how much Harper had provoked her, no matter how much she might have deserved the verbal bashing she'd received, Amy was ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry, too," she said. An awkward silence fell between them. As much as the words had flooded out of her mouth a little while ago, Amy couldn't think of anything good to say beyond "Do you want a ride back to the aunts' house? Dad and the others are worried about you."

Harper looked up at her, her gaze swiftly moving past Amy and into the distance. "Is Sheldon with you?"

"Yes."

"Did you call Emily and tell her where I was?"

"Sheldon texted her to let everyone know you were found." Amy hated how much the mere question cut her to the quick. Of course Harper prefers the company of Emily over mine. She always has. "But I could call and tell her to come if you would prefer to be with her."

Harper inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled. It was like she was gathering her courage, bit by bit. "Actually, I didn't want to disturb you and Sheldon on your way back to the house. You guys have had enough of that this weekend." A watery smile cracked the edges of her full lips. "Hard to believe you've only been here one day, huh?"

Amy mirrored the smile with one of her own. "Yes. I wouldn't blame Sheldon if he never wanted to come back again." Her voice dipped to a bare whisper before she said the next part. "Still, you could ride back with us. It's no bother."

Maybe it was the softness of her voice or the welcoming manner in which she'd issued her invitation. Whatever it was, Amy's words proved too much for Harper as she fell into tears again. The crying sounded different than before. It was more gut-wrenching and, Amy hoped, more healing. Amy was paralyzed with indecision. She wanted to reach out and comfort the weeping creature in front of her, but didn't know how. Just as she had made up her mind to attempt a consolatory touch of the shoulder, Harper threw herself into her arms, sobbing on her shoulder.

"I'm a horrible person."

"Yes," Amy answered truthfully as she patted her back.

Harper jerked away, gaping up at her in horror.

"But," Amy continued, "it's my hope you'll grow out of it one of these days."

Amy meant her words to be humorous, but instead, they made her sister turn pensive and return her stare to the ground. At last, Harper looked back up at her. "Do you think that's possible?"

"All humans have the capability for change, if they wish to."

"But does it ever truly happen? Or, is it like, people get to a certain point in their lives and are unable to change? They're stuck as they are forever? Like you can't teach an old dog new tricks?"

Amy considered this carefully before nodding. "People can change for the better. Sheldon and I are good examples. We have changed quite considerably since we met. Originally, the notion of a romantic pairing was distasteful to both of us. In fact, the mere thought of holding hands for a prolonged span of time used to send Sheldon into a worried cloud of frenzy about bacteria 'swimming in a sea of icky hand sweat.'" She shook her head. "Don't get me started on kissing or sexual relations."

"Really?" Harper seemed taken aback by this.

Amy nodded again.

"You know that's weird, right?"

"No weirder than agreeing to marry a man you don't love just so you can move out of your parents' house, I suppose."

Harper caught her gaze at that, but finally inclined her head to concede the point. "But what happened to change things between you and Sheldon? He's your boyfriend now, and it's clear to anyone with eyes that you two have been getting busy."

Amy shrugged. "We fell in love."

"That's all it took to change? Falling in love?"

"It's not all. We had to want to change, to recognize the need within ourselves that could only be fulfilled through modifying one's behavior. It didn't happen all at once. It was more a series of small decisions, sacrifices, and changes that took place over a prolonged stretch of time. When I met Sheldon, I only did so because of a deal I made with mother to go on one date a year in exchange for her getting off my case about it and so I could use the George Foreman grill."

"That thing is awesome, isn't it?"

"Indeed. I purchased one myself a few years ago. I should invite you over the next time Sheldon is inclined to make his grilled chicken bruschetta on homemade sourdough bread. It's delicious."

"Really?"

Amy frowned, unsure why Harper would doubt Sheldon's exemplary cooking skills. "Of course. My boyfriend is quite the chef when he puts his mind to it. He's a genius, you know." She smiled with pride. "There's little my sweet babboo can't do."

"No," Harper countered, coloring slightly. "I meant, do you really want to invite me over? You've never done that before."

It was Amy's turn to blush. "I didn't think you would want to come."

Harper met Amy's eyes and said, "I wouldn't have … before. But I think I might like that … in the future… if you wanted to invite me."

"O-O-OK."

It was the proverbial olive branch. The second one Harper had extended of the night. Amy studied her sister's face, trying to discern the veracity of her words. She could detect no tone of sarcasm or hint of duplicity. Could this be true? There had been few times in life when Amy was uncertain how she felt about something. There was a lightness in her being that could only be explained as happiness and something akin to hope swelling in her chest. She wasn't sure she and Harper could ever have as close a relationship as she and Emily—after all, they didn't have much in common and Harper was … Harper— but Amy could admit to herself that she had always secretly yearned for it. Harper had always represented that locked section of society Amy had never been allowed entrance to. The popular ones. The normal ones. The beautiful ones. The graceful and elegant ones. Looking back, Amy theorized that this was why she'd been so immediately taken to Penny.

Endeavoring to conceive having the same relationship she had with Penny with one like Harper was … inconceivable. Still, Harper was trying. Something Amy had said had struck a chord with her, had made her aware where she hadn't been before. Whether the awareness would continue or go away would only be proven with time. Strangely enough, Amy realized she wanted to give Harper the time.

She cleared her throat and tried to think back to what they had first been discussing. Finally locating the argument she'd been originally trying to make about change.

"The point is that when I left my first meeting with Sheldon, I wasn't in love with him. I could have never seen him again and succeeded admirably in living a productive and contented life based primarily in the world of scientific research. But I found that talking to him, spending time with him, and texting him little jokes I created as I stood in line at the dry cleaners was something I enjoyed. This enjoyment meant that I had to adjust to the multitude of annoying yet arousing idiosyncrasies Sheldon has. Likewise, as we have grown in our relationship, Sheldon has had to make many adjustments and changes to his thinking and behavior that would have been impossible years ago."

Harper listened to all of this, frowning to herself as it all seemed to sink in. At last, she said, "I hate my life. All of it. I have for years, so much that my hate has taken over everything until I wanted everyone to be as miserable as I was."

"The only one who can change your life is you."

She inclined her head. "I know that, but … I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Are you kidding? Everything! What if I fail? What if I change everything only to end up more miserable than before? What if I try to change and end up finding that I can't?"

"You'll never know if you don't try. And, in my experience, not knowing is the worst fear there is."

Harper studied her for a long while, eyes scanning over Amy as if she were taking each detail in piece by piece. The fear was still in her eyes, but there was also a new resilience there that promised the worst was over. "Amy, we're very different from each other, you know. Even if I do change, it doesn't mean I'm going to start liking science or nerdy things. I still don't want to go back to school. I'm still going to want to always have a tan, get highlights, and have my nails done every other week. I'm still going to have a mad crush on Channing Tatum and want my shoes to match my purse. I'm never going to share your fascination of monkeys or your love dressing like a senior citizen."

Amy stiffened, wondering where this was going. Now that Harper was feeling better, did this mean the olive branch was going to be taken away?

"But maybe that's OK. Maybe, if we both try hard enough, we can find something we both like."

Emotion clogged Amy's throat, so many she couldn't begin to classify or divide them. She could only let them overwhelm her to the point of tears clouding her vision. Harper smiled and reached out to grip and squeeze her sister's arm.

"I-I-I—" It took a few minutes, but she finally composed herself enough to offer, "I like to take Cosmo quizzes and each ice cream with Kahlua splashed on top."

Harper's smile widened. "Me, too."

"Amy?"

Both women turned to find Sheldon standing behind them. He looked at them, his gaze returning to Amy quickly and staying there. "Is everything all right?"

Amy wiped, trying to clear away the tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm fine." She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. Sharing a look with Harper, she said, "We're fine."

"Good," Sheldon said, still looking uncertain. "I talked to Emily and told her Harper has been found. Everyone is back at the house waiting for us to bring her back there."

Amy said, "Harper, do you want to go back or stay here?"

"The old me would have cut and run," Harper said.

"You still could. But, if you don't … if you want to return to the house and face everyone, I'll stand with you."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. But maybe this is my chance to start that change we were talking about. Maybe this is my first test." She considered this a moment before adding, "I guess I won't know unless I try, huh?"

"Indeed," Amy answered.

Harper nodded. "Then, let's go."

The trio turned and began walking to the car. Amy was in the middle with Sheldon on one side and Harper on the other. Without a word, Sheldon reached out, taking Amy's hand in his own. She wasn't sure if it was to comfort her or to make himself feel better. Honestly, she didn't care right now, merely reveled in feel of his strong fingers enfolding hers. She turned to look at her sister and was surprised to find her staring intently at her and Sheldon's hands. Something about their joined hands had made a strange look appear in Harper's eyes, a desperate yearning mixed with a stubborn determination.

Before Amy could ask Harper about this, the blonde beamed, let out a laugh, and gaily took off running for the car as if she couldn't wait to get back to the house—even with everything waiting for her there. It took Amy a few more seconds before she realized what had happened. When she did, she squeezed Sheldon's hand and smiled up at him. Sheldon, for his part, seemed confused.

"What was that all about?" he asked, inclining his head towards Harper's delighted scamper to the car.

"Change," she replied. "It's scary. But when it happens, it can be a wondrous and hopeful sight to behold."

Sheldon frowned. "I don't understand."

"I know, but that's OK."

"You're a strange woman, Amy Farrah Fowler."

"I know, but you love me anyway."

He thought about this only a second before he said, "Yes, I do."

Amy grinned as she leaned into his shoulder, resting her head there as they finished the journey to the car.

A/N: More to come. I know this is frustrating to some of you, but I don't believe in just writing Character A-B stories with only one plot and one focus. I like well-rounded stories with multiple plots all working together to weave into one. It's what I do best. So, stick with me, and I will get this thing ended as soon as I can.