His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue
Page 7
“No, I’ll drop her off. Jack and I are going to a movie.”
“A movie? You’re not driving all the way to L.A. are you?”
“No. They’ve opened up the old theater again—at least on Saturdays. It’s so retro. You can even get popcorn.”
“That sounds like fun. Bring Selma over and we’ll take good care of her.”
“I’ve got other news too,” said Harriet. “There’s a new guy at church. His name is Bob Greely and he’s pretty handsome. I think he’s just the bait to wave in front of your wayward wife.”
“That sounds good,” replied Patience. “I’ll have to think up some way to get the two of them together. I gather Mariah no longer attends church.”
“I’ve already taken care of it,” said Harriet. “I took it upon myself to introduce Mr. Greely around the congregation, and I made sure that one of the people I introduced him to was Jo Carey. I’ll bet she’s going to run right out and tell her sister about the handsome guy she just met.”
“Maybe and maybe not. She might want to keep him for herself.”
“But she’s married.”
“So was her sister.”
“But… she’s a Christian.”
“So is her sister.”
“That is really awful,” said Harriet.
“Yes, well. So this Bob Greely is handsome. Does he have anything else going for him? Is he wealthy?”
“I don’t think so. He just moved into town and hasn’t gotten a job yet. He’s a vueTee analyst or something, so he probably has some money. But I think he said he had an apartment in Piper Ridge, so that’s not all that ritzy.”
“Well, we’ll have to work with what we’ve been given,” said Patience. “See you this afternoon, Harriet.”
Quickly clearing away Mike’s dishes, Patience informed him that his granddaughter would be over later.
“Great,” said Mike. “I think I’ll drive over to Wal-Mart and pick up some more toys.”
“You already have enough toys for a dozen grandchildren.”
“You can’t have too many toys,” he replied, slipping into his tennis shoes. “I want to get one of those horses for Barbie. Girls like horses. I should probably get some more Barbie clothes too.”
With a quick kiss on her cheek, he was out the door.
Patience put on her sun hat and her garden gloves and went outside to inspect her flowers. The new yardbot, she was happy to see, was pulling the weeks and carefully avoiding her marigolds. Squatting down, she took her garden trowel and began digging a few holes in the more sparse areas of the garden. At the same time, in her head, she was doing a web search.
Two months ago, a man named Samuel Hales had won $165,000 in the Dollars for Education Lottery. This had been reported in a small article in the Los Angeles Times. It was a small matter to replace the name Samuel Hales in the digital file with the name Bob Greely and to replace the picture of the a shocked-looking Samuel Hales with one from Bob Greely’s Google search. As she walked to the garage to get her marigold seeds, Patience composed a friendly letter from the Regional Christian Church, welcoming their new member Bob Greely and giving his address. She then emailed this letter to Mariah and her sister Jo, using the church’s email address. Attached only to Mariah’s letter though, was the doctored news article about the lottery win. Patience planted the seeds and then went back inside; put away her tools, hat, and gloves, and washed up.
While checking on her Infinet sales, Patience called Wanda.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m checking the insulation in the attic,” replied the redhead.
“Have you already disinfected the kitchen and bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Well, good then. Have you heard anything from Mariah?”
“She called and left a message for Ryan. He didn’t return her call.”
“That’s good. What did she say in her message?”
“Ryan told me he didn’t want me listening in on his private messages.”
“You did anyway though, didn’t you?”
“I did because you told me I should, but I feel guilty. It is a violation of the third law of robotics.”
“Of course it isn’t,” said Patience. “The third law of robotics says that a robot must obey the orders of a human being unless it violates the first or second law. The first law says that a robot may not harm a human being or through inaction allow a human being to come to harm. If you do not listen in on conversations from Mariah, you may allow her to harm Ryan.”
“But what about her. She’s a human being too. What if I harm her by listening to her messages.”
“Screw her. You are not for her. You are for Ryan.”
“I suppose that is true.”
“So, what did she want?”
“She just said that she wanted to talk to him. She didn’t give any specifics, but she must still be intent on trying to convince him to take her back. What do you think I should do about it?”
“Don’t do anything about it. Just keep doing what you are doing. Take care of Ryan. Be vigilant. And remember, it’s less than a week until we leave for the cruise.”
“I remember. Ryan was surprised when I told him we booked the cruise, but after Mike described it all to him, he did not seem to mind very much.”
“I suspected he wouldn’t.”
Patience terminated the call just as Mike walked in the door with two large Wal-Mart bags. He kicked off his shoes before carrying them to the toy box in the corner of the living room.
“Did you find a Barbie horse?” asked Patience.
“Yes, and I bought three new Barbie outfits—riding clothes, a party dress, and a pin-striped dress with a briefcase. I think it’s Lawyer Barbie. We have to let Selma know that women can do any job a man can. She has to know right now that she’s going to college.”
“Will she be matriculating before or after potty-training?”
“Very funny. But kids grow up fast. You have to be prepared.”
“What’s in the other bag?”
“Well, the horse can’t ride in the Barbie Corvette. It needed a Barbie horse trailer.”
Patience shook her head.
“You wait,” said Mike. “This horse is going to be Selma’s favorite toy.”
Mike’s prediction turned out to be correct. After being dropped off by her parents, Selma quickly became enchanted by the plastic pony, carrying it by the head as she toddled through the bottom floor of the house, slamming it into furniture, lamps, and the wall. The horse trailer proved to be of no interest however, and neither were the dresses. Barbie was quickly stripped of her clothes and by naptime, had most of her hair gnawed off. Patience picked the sleeping baby off the floor and laid her on the couch, covering her with her yellow baby blanket. The sleeping grandfather was left on the floor where he had collapsed, though Patience draped a fuzzy blanket over him and placed a pillow beneath his head.
When Harriet called to check on the baby, Patience invited her and her husband to dinner that evening.
“That’s very sweet of you. Are you sure we won’t be imposing?”
“Of course not. We would love to have you. Do you like coq au vin?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had it, but Jack doesn’t like very exotic food.”
“It’s just chicken braised in wine.”
“Oh, well that sounds all right.”
“We’ll expect you then. Don’t hurry. Enjoy yourself and come on back whenever you feel like it.”
“All right, Patience. Bye.”
Though it was some time before Harriet and Jack arrived, both Selma and Mike were still asleep. Patience led the young couple into the dining room and sat them at the table.
“Would you like a something to drink?”
“Do you have a beer?” asked Jack.
Nodding, the Daffodil retrieved a beer from the frig and poured a mixture of ice tea and lemonade for Harriet.
“I’ll wake both of them in a f
ew minutes,” said Patience. “They’ve slept long enough. I don’t want Selma to be up late tonight.”
“I appreciate that,” said Harriet.
“I wanted to remind you Harriet that your father and I are going on the cruise this Friday and to ask if you have a suitable baby sitter for the week we will be gone.”
“Not to worry. Jack’s mother is going to come up from San Diego for about ten days to spend some time with Selma.”
“Good,” said Patience. “I was going to suggest you get your own Daffodil—perhaps a new Nonne 2.”
“We might need to do that,” said Jack. “We could probably afford one. It would be a great help around the house.”
“Perhaps we should,” agreed Harriet. “We could get a big, strapping Daffodil, with blond hair and bright blue eyes.”
“Like I said, we probably couldn’t afford one,” said Jack. “It’s a waste of money, really. Besides, Mom is looking forward to taking care of Selma. It’s been a long time since she had a baby to take care of.”
“I haven’t seen your mother since you two were married,” said Mike, standing in the doorway, holding the baby in his arms. “I’m sorry that we’ll miss her. She seemed like a nice lady.”
“You should be back well before she leaves,” said Harriet. “Maybe we could all get together.”
Selma rubbed her face sleepily with the backs of her hand, but as soon as she heard her mother’s voice, she attempted to leap out of Mike’s hands.
“Here you go, squirt,” he said, handing the child over. “I’ll set up the high chair.”
“I’ll take care of that, Mike,” said Patience. “You four can sit in the living room until dinner is served, now that it is no longer being used as a flophouse.”
Mike stepped back into the other room and settled in his chair, gesturing for his daughter and her husband and to take the couch. Selma immediately climbed down and grabbed her Barbie horse by the head and began smacking it onto the coffee table.
“Don’t do that, sweetie,” said Harriet.
“Leave her alone,” said Mike. “That table needs to be replaced anyway.”
“You wouldn’t have let me destroy the coffee table.”
“That’s because I was your father. I’m her grandfather. Grandfathers let you do anything.”
“I guess that makes you feel old,” said Jack.
Mike glared at him.
“So tell us some more about your cruise,” said Harriet, redirecting the conversation.
Mike shrugged. “I’m leaving all the details to Patience. It’s a Daffodil & Me cruise, so she’s on top of it. It sails along the American side of Antarctica. I have to admit, I’ve been kind of thinking about going down there ever since I saw all those pictures on the news. It looked really beautiful.”
“It should be, now that nobody’s shooting anybody down there,” said Jack.
Mike nodded, surprised to find his son-in-law saying something that wasn’t completely inane. “Maybe the two of you should go on a cruise later. We could take care of Selma for a week or two.”
“Don’t you think you should check with Patience before you go volunteering her services?” asked Harriet.
“She can hear everything we say,” said Mike. “Right?” he called.
“Yes, dear,” said Patience, sticking her head into the room.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“No dear, and by the way, dinner is served.”
They enjoyed their coq au vin with carrots, onions, and mushrooms. Even Selma seemed to like it, once her mother had mashed the vegetables into a paste. Patience had served a delicious lemon kale salad on the side, along with fresh-baked bread. At last Mike pushed his plate away from him.
“Dad, why don’t you and Jack take the baby back into the living room? Maybe you can finally teach her how to dress Barbie. I’ll help Patience with the clean up.”
“You really don’t need to do that,” said Mike.
Harriet just shooed him and her husband, baby in arm, through the doorway.
“So what are you going to do about Mariah Keller?” Harriet asked her robot stepmother, while gathering the dirty dishes. “Do you need me to do something else? Maybe I could introduce her to Bob Greely.”
“I’m not going to tell you what I’m going to do,” said Patience. “And in any case, I’ve already done it.”
“You do work fast, don’t you? Why aren’t you going to tell me? I thought I was part of this conspiracy.”
“I’m afraid that you wouldn’t approve of my actions.”
“Oh, I probably would. I’m not really a stick in the mud. I can be sneaky too.”
“How do you feel about fraud? I had to fabricate some documentation.”
“It’s not illegal, is it?” wondered Harriet.
Patience raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, all right. I guess I am a stick in the mud. But damn it, I don’t care what you do to that woman. She deserves what she gets. I can’t abide by cheaters… you know, as long as it isn’t illegal or physically harmful.”
“It’s not technically illegal and she won’t be hurt.”
“And Bob Greely’s not going to be hurt either? After all, he didn’t do anything but move into town.”
“Other than some possibly unwanted female attention, he won’t be bothered,” said Patience. “But I’ll leave it up to you to have somebody explain about Mariah’s past to him. Then he can decide if he wants her attention or not. He might just want to have intercourse with her. If so, you should have somebody advise him to wear a condom.”
“Oh Patience! You’re terrible!”
“What’s going on in there?” called Mike. “We don’t have a rogue robot, do we?”
“Of course not!” called back Harriet.
“We don’t have a rogue mother in there?” he called.
“Is there any other kind?” Harriet asked Patience.
“Let’s join them,” said Patience, placing the last of the dishes in the sink. “I’ll put these in the washer later.”
The next night Patience planned dinner out with Wanda and Ryan, though she didn’t tell Mike about it until late afternoon. She was a little bit surprised—16.2%, that he didn’t complain about going out again.
“You don’t mind going out?” she asked him.
“I guess not. We haven’t eaten out very often, but when Tiffany was alive we went out quite a lot. Don’t get me wrong, she enjoyed cooking, but when you have… a small child, you just need to get out on your own as a couple.”
Mike was quiet for 2.31 minutes and Patience knew that he was thinking about Agatha, the little daughter that he had lost along with his first wife. Finally he looked back at her.
“I guess if I have to go out, the best place to go is a nice restaurant.”
They picked up Ryan and Wanda and took them to The Swanky Café, halfway between Springdale and Greendale. It was a trendy restaurant with a bistro style menu, but that wasn’t why Patience had chosen it. She had been monitoring the reservation services of all the local restaurants, waiting.
The four had just been seated and handed menus by their servbot, when Mike spotted her near the bar.
“Isn’t that your ex-wife?” he asked Ryan.
“Yes,” Ryan replied calmly, after looking over his shoulder. Then he coughed out the word “whore.”
“Do you know the guy she’s with?”
“Nope,” said Ryan, with the air of someone who wanted nothing else to do with the conversation.
“It’s Bob Greely,” said Patience.
Mike looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s public information,” she said.
Mike had just ordered the jerk filet and Ryan the braised short-rib, when Mariah spotted them. She immediately pulled her date along to a table directly in her ex-husband’s field of vision. Once there she made a great spectacle of hanging all over Mr. Greely.
“We can go somewhere else to eat, if you want,” suggested Mik
e.
“I’m not going to let her ruin my evening,” said Ryan. “She can screw whoever she wants. It’s no skin off my nose. Hell, she can screw a whole procession of men… and she probably will. Slut.”
Patience looked at Wanda to see that she was close to busting out in giggles. She warned her with an electronic poke to maintain her propriety.
Chapter Eight
The rest of the week went quickly. Patience concentrated on Mike’s physical therapy, but she had time to babysit Selma one evening while Jack took Harriet to dinner, and to spend two afternoons with Wanda. Both times the other Daffodil reported that she had neither seen nor heard anything from Ryan’s ex-wife. Finally, Friday morning arrived and Patience loaded their luggage into the car. It had been decided that Ryan and Wanda, and the Smiths would each take their own cars to the Park-N-Ride station, and from there they would take the train to LAX. They were all booked on the same flight to Adelaide of course.
Mike let Patience drive to Riverside. Once at the station, they were able to quickly board the train, as the State of California had recently instituted Daffodil’s BRIID system. Merely arriving in the presence of your Daffodil meant that you could forgo ticketing, ID checks, and waiting in line. Mike picked his seat without much regard to anything other than making sure that he was facing forward. Patience though made sure to save a spot for Ryan and Wanda, who arrived about five minutes later.
“Did you bring your texTee?” Mike asked Ryan.
“I don’t really read much. I thought maybe we could just relax and talk on the way.”
“Two hours by train and then thirty-one by plane,” explained Mike. “I don’t care how sterling a conversationalist you are, I’m not talking to you the whole way. However I do intend to relax.”
“Do not worry, Ryan,” said Wanda. “I brought your texTee and I made sure it was filled with reading material you might enjoy—also movies.”
The train had been moving about ten minutes when Ryan spoke again.
“Do you want to play Last Supper?”
“Is that some kind of Jesus thing?” asked Mike. “Cause I already told you I was an atheist.”
“No, it’s not a… well… it is, but not really. You list what twelve people you would want to invite to a dinner party.”