After a long heart-to-heart and some gentle persuasion from Mary, George decided he was going to turn down the weekend overtime at the sporting goods store.
Part of it was the sheer exhaustion of working seven days a week, but the bigger factor was the paycheck. The effort just didn't match the reward, and with no real room for growth as a retail clerk, George felt it was better to be home. Besides, Mary's job at the church kept her busiest on the weekends, leaving no one to look after Sheldon and the others. This compromise felt like they'd finally found a balance between work and family.
A week flew by.
During that time, Mike and Sheldon still hadn't received a single word back from Dr. Ronald. Every time they tried to call NASA, the receptionist would hang up the second she heard their voices. It was official: Mike and Sheldon had been blacklisted.
The lack of communication ate away at Sheldon. Being unable to express his frustrations, he developed a nervous stomach. When Mary realized her son was genuinely ill, she rushed him to the doctor.
---
"What did the doctor say?" George asked anxiously as Mary and Sheldon walked through the door.
Mary shook her head, looking worried. "It's not great. The doctor said Sheldon's stomach issues are being caused by chronic stress and pent-up frustration. Medicine isn't going to do much for this..."
She was right. For someone like Sheldon, pills were just a Band-Aid. Unless he settled the issue weighing on his mind, the symptoms would just keep coming back.
"How did it get to this?" George asked, realizing how serious it was.
"I don't know. I asked him, but he won't talk," Mary said, her voice a mix of heartbreak and helplessness. She had already decided that if he didn't improve, she'd take him to a child psychologist the next day. Sometimes you have to treat the mind to heal the body.
As the couple fretted, Mike—who had come over with Meemaw to crash dinner—spoke up. "Actually, I think I know why Sheldon is sick."
With George and Mary hanging on his every word, Mike explained the whole saga of the unreturned NASA letters and the dead-end phone calls.
"How could they be so mean?" Mary cried, pulling Sheldon into a protective hug.
The rest of the room felt a surge of indignation. Everyone had seen how much blood, sweat, and tears Sheldon had poured into those calculations. To put in that much work and get zero feedback—or worse, be treated like a nuisance—was enough to make anyone sick.
George immediately stepped up to defend his son. He grabbed the phone to give NASA a piece of his mind.
"NASA, how can I help you?" a crisp, polite female voice answered.
Hearing how polite she was, George's anger deflated a bit. "Hello, I'm Sheldon's father. I was calling to ask—"
Click.
She didn't even let him finish. After a week of "harassment," the receptionist had clearly flagged any mention of Sheldon or Mike as a prank call.
"What the..." George stared at the receiver, stunned. He tried again, but this time, the second she recognized his voice, she hung up. Now George was just as frustrated as his son.
Mary, thinking she could do better, snatched the phone away. "I am Sheldon's mother! I want to know why you're treating a child this way! Your behavior is hurting his health and his—"
Dial tone.
Mary's grand speech landed on deaf ears. The receptionist had likely hung up the moment she identified herself. Mary felt like she'd swung a heavy punch only to hit a pillow; the lack of impact was infuriating.
"Let me try," Meemaw said, drawing on her years of life experience.
"Hello, dear. We sent a document over there recently and were wondering if you could check on it for us? ... Oh, my name is Connie. The title of the file? Just a second..."
Meemaw's grandmotherly charm actually got her a foot in the door. She covered the mouthpiece, mouthed the title to Mike, and then said back into the phone: "The file is called Rocket Launch Logistics 2.0..."
Click.
"Hello? Hello? Are you still there?" Meemaw stared at the phone, bewildered.
Apparently, the receptionist wasn't just filtering names anymore—the project title was on the blacklist too.
"This is ridiculous," George said. Seeing even Meemaw get shut down, he finally understood why Sheldon was so miserable. "I've got tomorrow off. I'm taking Sheldon to Houston ourselves to get some real answers."
George had negotiated with his boss, Dale, to trade a pay cut for his weekends back.
"Really?" Sheldon's face lit up instantly. "I'll go get my files ready!"
He scrambled to organize his hard copies, ready to confront Dr. Ronald face-to-face. Seeing her son back to his old energetic self, the weight lifted off Mary's shoulders. Then, remembering the rude woman on the phone, she told George that if he saw her, he better give her a piece of her mind too.
---
Saturday morning, Mike joined them for the drive to Houston. Since his name was on the paper too, Sheldon insisted he come along for the ride.
After several hours on the road, the car pulled up to the massive NASA headquarters. Looking at the towering buildings and thinking about all the geniuses working inside, George started to feel a bit out of his league. He even forgot about Mary's request for a confrontation.
He nervously led the boys inside and approached the front desk. "Hi, we're looking for Dr. Ronald. Is he in?"
"Do you have an appointment?" asked the polished, well-dressed woman behind the desk.
"That's the voice..." Sheldon, with his eidetic memory, recognized her instantly. "I'm Sheldon. We've spoken many times on the phone—"
The receptionist's eyes widened as she realized who they were. Not many people were persistent enough to call every single day.
"You're Sheldon? Then you must be Mike?" She completely ignored George and stared in amazement at Mike, who was leaning against the desk.
"That's me," Mike said with a charming smile. He was used to that look; it was the same "fan girl" expression he saw at school every day.
"Think you could put us through to Dr. Ronald's private line? We're actually working together," Mike added smoothly.
"I... I think I can do that," she stammered, completely dazed by Mike's smile. She picked up the phone, her professional guard totally dismantled.
---