In Peggy's apartment, out in the living room, Adam and David are cracking up and having a blast. Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Linda's looking totally helpless . Her own daughter pulled something like this, and when Linda caught her in the act, Peggy didn't even flinch. Instead, it's Linda who's feeling awkward, her initial anger slowly turning into embarrassment. What is this mess?!
"Peggy," Linda said carefully, "what's really going on between you and Adam?"
"Didn't you already figure it out, Mom?" Peggy replied, looking surprised. "It's just a pure, uh… you-know-what kind of thing."
Linda's jaw dropped, completely floored .
For years, Linda had been by Peggy's side, supporting her studies, proud of the brilliant kid she raised. But after just a few months of Peggy chasing her own love life, hearing such blunt words come out of her mouth? It was a lot to swallow.
"Did he put it that way?" Linda snapped, clenching her teeth.
That jerk Adam—how dare he treat her precious girl like this? So full of himself!
"Nope," Peggy shook her head. "I went after him first. Mom, you know I've only got one and a half friends. Sheldon's always been this neutral, clueless kid, so I had to go for the half-friend instead."
"But you're a girl, Peggy. This puts you at a disadvantage," Linda said, torn.
"Disadvantage?" Peggy blinked. "Mom, remember how my research was totally stuck a few months back? Once Adam came into the picture, everything clicked—my path forward opened up. He's my muse, giving me nonstop scientific inspiration. If anyone's losing out, it's him. How am I at a disadvantage?"
Linda couldn't help but laugh and sigh . She got it. For her math-and-science-obsessed daughter, nothing trumped research. Adam being a constant source of inspiration was Peggy's biggest win. The usual "who's taking advantage of who" stuff in relationships didn't apply to her one-of-a-kind kid.
Still, even if Linda understood, as a regular mom, she couldn't shake the feeling that Adam was getting the better deal—and it ticked her off.
"Peggy, maybe I should stick around and keep you company?" Linda offered hesitantly.
"No need," Peggy said, shaking her head. "Lisa's got me covered. You should go hang with Uncle David. Too many people in the apartment's no good."
Linda felt drained . I'm her mom, darn it!
"Who's Lisa?" she asked.
"Adam's assistant," Peggy said casually. "Now she's mine, handling all the random stuff."
"He even got you an assistant?" Linda's face twisted with mixed feelings. "Peggy, you're the youngest mathematician ever. If you asked, the school would've hooked you up with an assistant—no need to lean on him."
"Lisa's super good, though," Peggy countered. "She saves me a ton of time. The school's assistants couldn't keep up like she does."
Linda paused, then glanced around the bedroom. It hit her—the place had changed. Subtle luxury oozed from every corner. She realized why Lisa was so capable: Adam wasn't skimping on the cash.
That made her feel both relieved and worried. Relieved that Adam seemed to care, but worried about how long that'd last.
"So, what's your plan?" Linda asked, getting serious.
"Plan for what?" Peggy looked confused. "You don't mean marriage with Adam, do you?"
"If you like him, and he likes you, and you're already… like this, what's wrong with marriage?" Linda shot back.
"What, so we can end up like you and Dad—fighting all the time and then divorcing?" Peggy said coolly. "No thanks. That's way too much time and energy. Marriage is just a boring chain holding tons of scientists back from going further.
Like, if Einstein didn't have two wives and a bunch of lovers, wasting all that time on his teacher's daughter, college buddies, cousin, cousin's kid, and secretary, he might've nailed the unified field theory. We could be zipping through space in warp ships by now.
Or Schrödinger—if he didn't have all those wives and girlfriends, spending energy on students, actresses, and office clerks, and if he'd hired an assistant who actually helped instead of just picking someone because he liked their wife, we might know if that cat's dead or alive.
Madame Curie—"
"Okay, okay!" Linda's head was pounding, and she waved her hand to stop her. "I get it, I get what you're saying."
The bedroom went quiet for a moment.
Linda replayed Peggy's words in her head, her eyes brimming with guilt. This is all my fault! No—scratch that—it's that creep Barry's fault! If he hadn't picked fights with her, spouting garbage like "You care too much about Peggy, giving her all your love and leaving none for me," showing Peggy the nasty side of marriage, she wouldn't have these wild ideas. Seriously?! Peggy's his kid too! Was it wrong for Linda to pour her heart into loving their special daughter who needed extra care?
For a split second, Linda's mind drifted. She remembered stumbling across something online about creators getting support through pat-reon:belamy20. Maybe Peggy could use something like that for her research one day, she thought, but she brushed it off quick, snapping back to her guilt and frustration.
Then she thought about Adam's job. A doctor—just like Barry. Peggy was only eleven when they split, and Linda had raised her solo ever since. With no dad around, it made sense Peggy might gravitate toward Adam, who had the same gig as her father. Add in Adam's grown-up charm and his nerve—thick enough to make even weathered adults jealous—and Linda's self-blame hit harder.
She didn't like Peggy being with Adam in this vague, no-future setup, but the memory of Peggy spiraling after the divorce held her back from getting too tough. Sigh, she thought, letting out a heavy breath. "You're still young, so there's no rush. But if you're gonna keep hanging with Adam, don't take his money. Things stay equal only if there's no cash involved." That was a brutal lesson from her years as a housewife. She'd put up with so much for so long because she had no income, totally reliant on her husband.
"I didn't ask for anything," Peggy said, frowning. "We don't owe each other a thing—it's fair." She didn't sweat the small stuff. If it's there, cool; if not, whatever. It wasn't a big deal to her—like when Adam offhandedly named her formula the Duncan-Adler formula. Just random stuff, no fuss. If your heart's calm, why'd the wind even matter?
Linda had no comeback. In the end, she just stressed the safety basics. Peggy's only eighteen, barely an adult, so messing around with Adam for a few years isn't a disaster. Plenty of scientists don't settle down until their thirties. Peggy's got loads of time to sort it out. But the big rule? Be safe—don't end up with a baby!