Chapter 53: Mrs. Harper's Family Dinner
The next evening.
In front of a classic American single-family house with a white picket fence and a well-manicured lawn.
Monica parked her Honda Accord and didn't rush to get out. Instead, she looked at Paige in the passenger seat and asked: "We're here as dinner guests—is it really okay not to bring anything?"
"What did you want to bring?"
Paige unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed open the door.
"A bottle of wine, or at least some of my homemade cookies."
Monica hurried out to follow her.
"My research manuscript is the best gift I could bring."
Paige disagreed.
Just then, another car pulled up to the curb.
"It's Sheldon!"
Paige smiled and stopped to watch the approaching vehicle.
"You got here first."
Little Sheldon climbed out of the passenger seat and frowned at Paige, who was standing by the front door.
"Just arrived myself."
Paige smiled back.
"Hi there, I'm Monica."
Letting the two kids talk, Monica smiled somewhat stiffly at the woman with the expressionless face who had driven Sheldon.
"Hello. Dr. Beverly Hofstadter."
Beverly nodded coolly at Monica and introduced herself with clinical precision.
"I'm Paige's guardian."
Monica felt the chill in the air and felt awkward. She knew the smart thing would be to stay quiet, but she couldn't help herself.
"Of course."
At the mention of "Paige," Beverly adjusted her glasses and looked Monica directly in the eye, a hint of professional interest flashing across her face. "How long have you been her guardian?"
"Not very long."
Monica was flattered that the ice-cold psychiatrist had actually initiated conversation. She eagerly answered, feeling quite pleased with herself.
Ever since receiving strategic guidance from the brilliant Paige, she felt like she had achieved some kind of enlightenment, radiating an aura of newfound wisdom. Even the intimidating Dr. Hofstadter now seemed to regard her differently.
How amazing!
"Paige is a prodigy like Sheldon, so what's it like being her guardian?"
Beverly continued with what was clearly a clinical interview.
"It's been... educational."
Monica instinctively glanced at Paige nearby and lowered her voice: "Even though I'm supposed to be taking care of her day-to-day needs, she's taught me so much."
"Naturally."
Beverly nodded with a condescending expression.
"..."
Monica looked at Beverly's know-it-all demeanor, and even though she wasn't the sharpest person, she understood the implicit meaning behind that response, and suddenly felt irritated.
There were things you could say about yourself, but when someone else agreed with you, that was a whole different story.
Not to mention that Beverly wasn't just agreeing—she was expressing disapproval of Monica's capabilities that went far deeper than Monica's own self-deprecation.
"Tell me more about how you feel."
Beverly continued her questioning.
What was it like for an ordinary person to be the guardian of a genius? For her, this had been a research project she'd wanted to pursue for a long time.
When little Sheldon had first visited with his mother Mary, she had immediately tried to interview Mary about it.
However, the results weren't promising, because Mary seemed very resistant to the topic, so the project hadn't made much progress.
Although little Sheldon was now under her guardianship, unfortunately, she herself was hardly an ordinary person.
Monica wanted to ignore the increasingly annoying Beverly, but when she met those self-satisfied eyes, she inexplicably felt intimidated. It was the classic insecurity of average students facing academic superstars. Realizing that Chuck hadn't arrived yet and knowing they couldn't have a scene now or it would be even more embarrassing later, she could only answer Beverly's somewhat harsh and very irritating questions in a scattered, defensive manner.
When Chuck pulled up to the suburban house at exactly the right time, he found Monica standing there in tears.
"Oh my God! I'm the daughter in the family, the baby, but my parents don't give a damn about me. They only have eyes for Ross, my brother! Ross, the genius! Ross, their pride and joy! Ross, the guy every girl in our neighborhood supposedly had a crush on! Are you kidding me? Are they blind? My brother Ross is just some regular, run-of-the-mill nerd who only gets crushes on his sister's best friends. He's a loser who couldn't even get a date for senior prom. How could every neighborhood girl have had a crush on him?"
"That's completely typical behavior,"
Beverly stated matter-of-factly.
She could tell Monica was Jewish, and seeing her resistance to the questioning, she had decided to break down her psychological defenses before extracting the answers she wanted.
This was surprisingly simple for someone with her credentials as a neurologist, psychiatrist, child development expert, and bestselling author.
One strategic question had reduced her to tears, demolished her defenses, and now she couldn't stop herself. She was spilling years of pent-up resentment about her family's obvious favoritism toward her brother, with no sign of slowing down.
"This is an extremely common pattern in Jewish-American families. Traditional values emphasize that having no sons is equivalent to having no legacy. Jewish cultural wisdom often prioritizes sons because they're expected to provide financial and emotional support in old age, while daughters are seen as temporary family members who will eventually belong to their husbands' families. Parents frequently worry excessively about their daughters—losing sleep over concerns about them being led astray when they're young, making poor choices as they mature..."
Beverly continued analytically.
Before she could finish her cultural dissertation, Monica's crying intensified. "But they never had to worry about me at all growing up, because nobody ever led me astray, and I was too chunky to make any poor choices with boys anyway."
"And then there are the lifecycle concerns. Before marriage, they worry she won't find a husband. After marriage, they worry she won't have children. In old age, they worry she'll become one of those bitter, meddling women. That's why traditional Jewish blessings often say, 'May you be blessed with sons,' because daughters require constant vigilance and protection,"
Beverly added with academic detachment.
Monica burst into even louder sobs upon hearing this, her cries heart-wrenching. Everyone who witnessed or heard her began tearing up themselves. Even Professor Alicia Harper, who had been bustling around inside preparing dinner, finally heard the commotion and came outside, asking with genuine concern, "What on earth is happening out here?"
"Dr. Hofstadter made Monica cry,"
Paige said with an amused smile. "Chuck, don't you have something to say about this?"
Monica looked over at him through her tears, hoping for some support.
"Dr. Hofstadter, what's your professional opinion on those Old Testament and Talmudic teachings?"
Chuck addressed Beverly directly.
"Complete nonsense, obviously!"
Beverly stated matter-of-factly. Little Sheldon nodded emphatically in agreement.
They were all committed to scientific rationalism. In their worldview, God didn't exist, much less ancient religious texts. This was one of the primary reasons why the devoutly Christian Mary couldn't stand Beverly.
"See?"
Chuck nodded toward the tearful Monica and walked toward Professor Alicia Harper.
"See what?"
Monica, observing Chuck's dismissive attitude, couldn't help but feel panicked.
"Dr. Hofstadter just counseled you using what she herself considers complete garbage, and you're crying your eyes out over it? What does that tell you?"
Chuck frowned.
Monica: "..."
Is he calling me an idiot?
Monica felt deeply hurt, but seeing Chuck's disapproving frown, she instinctively looked away, swallowing the words 'You're cold, heartless, and completely unreasonable.' Instead, she fixed her gaze on Beverly's impassive face and angrily demanded, "Why would you do that?"
(End of Chapter)
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