by Day Leclaire
Justice fought to breathe. “Your dictionary isn’t mistaken, but the work order is. You will ignore it. Is that clear?”
“She’s put an after-Christmas rush on it.”
“I’m canceling the rush. I will, of course, send you a cancellation fee for your trouble.”
“Aw, Justice, you know that’s not necessary. I figured there had to be some sort of mistake. I gotta tell you, I’m glad to get it cleared up. I think I’d’ve cried like a baby if she made me paint those walls.”
“Agreed. Please check with me if any further work orders are issued.”
“Will do. Hope you have a Merry Christmas.”
But Justice wouldn’t have a Christmas, merry or otherwise. Not if Daisy left. Not if she took his daughter with her. He couldn’t bear the thought of Aggie and Jett leaving, either. They’d become too important to him. Vital to his happiness and well-being. Just as he was willing to bet he and Pretorius had become vital to their happiness. They were a family, damn it, and no matter what it took, he had to find a way to stop her. To convince her to stay. To convince her that they belonged together. All of them.
For the next three days, as the calendar crept steadily closer to Christmas, Justice vacillated between confronting Daisy over the work order and waiting until after the twenty-fifth. Concern that a confrontation might convince her to leave before the holiday was all that kept him silent. During the day he worked like a man possessed, hoping that even if he couldn’t love, maybe his robot’s ability to sense emotion would help him analyze the problem and come up with a logical solution. And with each passing night their lovemaking took on an element of desperation, as though they both sensed their time together would soon end.
On Christmas Eve she slipped from his bed and returned to her own room, and he knew he’d lost. Silently, he paced through the house, picturing it without the noise and laughter and joy that had permeated each and every room since Daisy and her household had arrived.
He paused in front of the Christmas tree, one they’d all decorated together. It had been Pretorius’s first visit above stairs. Justice tapped an ornament, a miniature laptop with ho-ho-ho scrawled across the tiny screen. Pretorius had given it to Jett to symbolize the bond the two of them had cemented. And he’d given Daisy one of a cradle with Baby’s First Christmas inscribed on it.
Finally, he returned downstairs to the lab. He still had a few more hours in which to complete the Emo X-15 model and he intended to use each and every precious minute remaining to him in the hope that he’d finally succeed at getting the upgrade fully operational. He booted up the computer and accessed the list of “emotion” files Pretorius had put together. His uncle had labeled one of them Love, and Justice couldn’t remember ever viewing those.
There were still photos as well as videos and he clicked on them at random. The first were a series of Daisy and Noelle and he smiled at the stream of images. Blowing kisses. Snuggling. Bath time. Story time. Bedtime. There were even a few of Jett, curled up with Noelle like a pair of exhausted kittens.
And then he hit an endless cascade of photos of himself with his daughter and his breath stopped. They were pictures he hadn’t even known existed, and as he scrutinized one after another he couldn’t mistake the look on his face, any more than he’d been able to mistake it on Daisy’s.
But it was the final photo that threatened to utterly destroy him. He’d just come from the outside and was still in his coat while he held his sleeping daughter in his arms, his embrace as gentle as it was protective. But he wasn’t looking at his daughter in this photo. He was looking at Daisy, who busily painted a picture of Emo, oblivious beneath his watchful gaze. And there, written in his own face, he saw the truth.
He saw love.
Who the hell had he been fooling? All this time he’d been using science and logic as a buffer, refusing to see what was right in front of his eyes. Afraid to take that leap of faith in case he found empty air beneath his feet instead of solid ground. But here he stood, rooted by what he saw. There in stark relief was an undeniable love, from the small, tender way his mouth curved, to the adoring gleam in his eyes, to the hunger written into every line and crevice of his face.
He loved her.
He shot to his feet, intent on telling her just that, but froze at the last moment. Would she believe him? Or would she think it was desperation speaking, a last-ditch effort to convince her to stay. How the hell could he hope to prove to her that he genuinely loved her, especially considering how slow he’d been figuring it out?
There was only one possible way. He needed proof. He needed… His attention shifted to Emo X-15’s sleek form. He needed a robot capable of detecting emotion. “There’s a chance. There’s still a chance,” he muttered.
“Where’s Justice?” Jett whispered to Pretorius, though Daisy overheard. Overheard and could have wept.
“Where he always is these days,” Pretorius answered glumly. “In his lab.”
“But it’s Christmas. Even you’re up here.”
Pretorius shrugged uneasily and straightened the bow on one of the presents before tucking it under the gaily lit tree. Instantly, Kit pounced on it, and proceeded to shred the bow. “Maybe he’s forgotten. We never did a full-blown Christmas before. It could have slipped his mind.”
“Maybe someone should remind him,” Jett replied and pulled a remote control from her pocket. With a casual air, she fiddled with the buttons.
Daisy snatched a deep breath. Enough was enough. She’d hoped having Cord call about the work order would give Justice the nudge he needed. That facing the loss of all the improvements she’d made over the past month would be sufficient to force him to his senses. She should have known better. He’d always been in full possession of his senses. Which could only mean one thing.
Clearly she’d misjudged him. Misjudged what he wanted. Misjudged his intentions. Misjudged how he felt. That he could somehow come to love her.
“Okay, everyone,” she said with a determined smile. “Time to open presents.”
Justice didn’t remember how long he worked into the night. Until three? Four? A determined wheep! wheep! woke him from a sound sleep. Damn Jett and that blasted…
He shot to his feet, looking around in confusion. What? When? Where? For the second time in recent memory his inner clock failed him. “Computer, date and time?” he demanded in a rusty voice.
“December twenty-fifth, 11:02:12 a.m.,” came the dispassionate response.
He swore, then thrust his hands through his hair in an attempt to comb it into some semblance of neatness. Not that it helped. Between the beginnings of the sandpaper beard shadowing his jaw, eyes he didn’t doubt were rimmed in sleepless red, and wrinkles pressed into his face from conking out at his workbench, he looked like someone who’d been ridden hard and put away wet.
He glanced at the robot and groaned. He’d tried. He’d worked so long and hard, worked like a maniac, in flat-out desperation. It hadn’t changed a damn thing. Emo X-15 still didn’t work, any more than its predecessor. He’d failed. Sinking into his chair, he scrubbed his hands across his face. He was so tired. So drained. For the first time in his life he was at a loss, uncertain how or where to move from here, longing for something he couldn’t name. Didn’t dare name. And yet, the names came to him, anyway.
Daisy. Noelle. Even Aggie and Jett had become part of his life. Part of what made his house a home. And he’d blown it. Failed at every turn.
“You look tired,” a cool, remote voice announced.
Justice froze. Slowly he looked up. X-15 hummed with electronic life. “What did you say?”
“You look tired,” X-15 repeated.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” came another hesitant voice, the voice of a robot he should have repurposed long ago…and hadn’t had the heart to.
Maybe he’d kept it because Noelle adored the older robot. Maybe it was because of Daisy’s softhearted attitude toward it. Or maybe it was his own reluctant affection for t
he silly thing. He fought for control, struggled to remain calm and rational. “Why are you asking me that question?” he asked X-14.
Emo emitted a tiny, nervous beep, as though afraid it had done something wrong. Then it spoke. “You feel sad. Tea will make you feel better.”
And that’s when he saw his two choices stretching before him. On one hand, the cold logic that had been his close companion for most of his life. On the other, sheer emotion. And he smiled as he reached for Emo. For the perfect Emo. Because he’d just discovered an amazing truth.
Logic wouldn’t get him a cup of tea.
Justice raced up the stairs, his hastily wrapped Christmas gifts overflowing his arms. He hit the top step at the same moment Daisy announced, “Okay, everyone. Time to open presents.”
“Hang on,” he called. “I have a few more to put under the tree.” He stepped into the great room and caught Daisy’s expression, a heartbreaking gaze full of pain and hope. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting. I was putting the finishing touches on my gifts.”
“What did you get me?” Jett demanded greedily.
He selected hers and placed the remaining packages under the tree, rescuing them from Kit’s eager claws. “This is a joint gift from Pretorius and me.”
Jett ripped open the long, narrow box without hesitation and peered inside. Papers were nestled beneath tissue paper. She used more caution now, lifting them out and carefully unfolding them. Her breath caught. “These…these are letters of recommendation.”
“For college,” Justice confirmed.
She clutched them to her chest. “From The. Great. Justice. St. John.”
“And from me,” Pretorius groused. “I’m not exactly chopped liver, you know. It so happens I’m a highly respected member of the computer community.”
“Thanks, Uncle P.”
She raced to his side and gave him an exuberant hug, one that should have sent him into an immediate panic. Instead he turned a deep shade of red and patted her awkwardly on her back. “Now, now. That’s quite enough of the mushy stuff. You haven’t even seen the real present.”
“There’s more?”
She pulled free of the embrace and gently refolded the letters of recommendation as though they were made of spun gold before opening the envelope that accompanied them. She read the note inside, her face crumpling.
“Jett?” Daisy asked uneasily.
“It’s…it’s a full scholarship, all expenses paid, from Sinjin, Incorporated for the college of my choice, anywhere in the world.” She buried her face in her hands.
“Of course, you have to get accepted first,” Justice warned.
This time she flew into his arms and wrapped him up in a tight, teary hug. “Thank you. You couldn’t have given me a better present.”
“Well, now,” Aggie said, dabbing at her eyes. “I do believe this calls for a nice cup of tea.”
Pretorius selected another gift from under the tree, a large square box, and offered it to the housekeeper. “In that case, you’ll need this.”
Unlike Jett, Aggie opened her present with care, removing the ribbons and sliding a fingernail beneath the tape. Neatly unfolding the wrapping paper, she set it aside “to add to my scrapbook.” Finally, she lifted the top from the box. “Oh, Pretorius. You couldn’t have picked a better gift.” She eased the dainty teapot from its protective paper. “It’s Spode, isn’t it?”
“Their Christmas tea set,” he confirmed. “And Justice is giving you a selection of teas from around the world. You’ll get a new one every week.”
She gave the men a misty smile. “Well, then, we’ll just have to try out a lovely cup of tea in my new teapot, won’t we?”
Jett emerged from beneath the tree, carrying one of Justice’s haphazardly wrapped presents. “I found this for Noelle.” She handed it to the toddler and helped with the wrapping paper. “Check it out! It’s a baby Emo. Does it work any better than the other ones?”
“Nowhere near as well,” he admitted with a sly grin, then gestured toward the tree. “Any more presents under there?”
“Something for you,” Daisy announced. She handed him a large, sketch pad-size gift, as well as an envelope. “I suggest you start with the envelope.”
He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it contained and hoped against hope he was wrong. Unfortunately, he confirmed his guess the instant he read the work order Cord had called about. “What if I don’t want this gift?” he asked tightly.
“Then you can have the other one. It’s sort of an either/or proposition. You can have whichever one you want, but not both.”
He cautiously removed the gift wrapping on the second gift, surprised to discover that it really was a sketchpad. He flipped open the cover. To his delight he realized she’d drawn a mockup for a new storybook, the futuristic adventures of a mischievous preschooler who bore a striking resemblance to Noelle, and a broken-down robot the image of Emo, whose function was to read and respond to human emotion. But because he got everything wrong, he’d been sent to the junkyard, where the little girl found him and carted him home.
The storyline was adorable, funny and poignant, and he savored each and every page. Toward the end of the story, the two were discovered by the authorities and the robot had to either get his emotion reader to work or the little girl would be forced to return him to the scrap heap.
The final test came in front of a stern-faced tribunal. “What do I feel?” the little girl asked her robot, her heart in her eyes.
Justice gently flipped the page. But instead of a conclusion he found himself staring at a blank sheet of paper. He looked at Daisy in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. There’s no ending.”
“That’s because I can’t end it…until you tell me how. If you can’t, you’ll have to accept the work order. Either/or, Justice.”
He closed his eyes. He knew how this story concluded. He’d known all along. Until today, he hadn’t believed himself capable of the emotion. But not anymore. Not when everything he wanted was on the line…a line he’d drawn and dared Daisy to step over. She hadn’t stepped over it, she’d leaped over it, kicking his line into nonexistence.
He closed the sketch pad and picked up his gift to her, setting it down in front of her. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what he’d so awkwardly wrapped. Without a word she stripped away the wrapping paper to reveal Emo.
“Turn it on,” he encouraged.
She pressed the appropriate button on the robot’s control panel helmet. Emo hummed to life. “Hello, Emo,” she said.
The head turned in circles, the bright aquamarine eyes scanning the room, scanning the people one by one. “I love you. I’m hungry. Would you like a nice cup of tea?”
Jett burst out laughing and Noelle clapped her hands, babbling in excitement. “Emo,” Justice said. “How do I feel?”
“You would like a nice cup of tea,” Emo chirped.
It was all Justice could do to keep from yanking his hair out by the roots. “Damn it, you good for nothing bucket of bolts! You were supposed to tell Daisy I love her!”
For a split second no one moved. No one even drew breath. Then Daisy flew into his arms. “I believe you just did tell me. And to be honest, I’d much rather hear it from you than from Emo.” She gazed up at him, her own love spilling out like rays of sunshine on a cloudless day. “And that was exactly the line I hoped to use to end the story I wrote.”
Justice blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I worked all night on him. I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“That he could tell me what you couldn’t?”
“No!” He took a deep breath. “No. I do love you, Daisy. I love you with all my heart. But I didn’t think you’d believe me, not after I resisted saying the words for so long.”
“You figured if Emo said them for you, if he read your emotions, I’d believe you?”
“Yes.” He dropped his forehead to hers. “I’ve spent twenty-seven years, two months and twenty-six days be
lieving I couldn’t feel. It was easier to believe. Less painful.”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “And now?”
“Now it’s more painful not to say the words,” he admitted. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you and the rest of our family. Please don’t let the story end with a blank page. Please be the one who’ll give me a real family, not an apprentice family. Who’ll always be there for me if I’m ever hurt again. Take a chance. Marry me, Daisy.”
Her smile grew, blinding him with its brilliance. “I’ll marry you, on two conditions.”
Aw, hell. “Which are?”
“First, Joint Condition Two. I’m allowed downstairs whenever I want.”
His tawny gaze grew brighter than the Christmas tree lights. “I’ll agree to that if you’ll agree to Joint Condition Three,” he bargained. “Which is?”
“You create a room upstairs just for the two of us. One on the south side of the house.”
“But…” Uncertainty filled her expression. “That’s the sunny side.”
“So it is.” Warmth filled his eyes. “It’s time to leave the darkness behind and step out into the sunlight, don’t you think?” He pulled her closer. “Now will you marry me?”
She nodded, hope springing to life and filling her expression with joy. “If you can answer just one more tiny question.”
“And what question is that?”
“How do you feel, Justice?” she whispered.
He could hear the collective inhale as everyone waited for his response. When he spoke, he spoke from the heart. “I feel…happy. Like our story is just beginning.”
“Oh, Justice.” Tears of delight filled her eyes. “And what a story it will be.”
“One for the books,” he agreed and feathered a kiss across her mouth. “After all, you taught a robot to feel.”
“No, Justice.” She returned his kiss, their first real kiss. “I taught a man to love.”