His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue

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His Robot Wife: Patience is a Virtue Page 5

by Allison, Wesley


  “Of course it’s not like she didn’t wear sexy clothes a lot. That’s how we met. I saw her stopping at the gas station by the dealership every morning on her way to work. She worked at the Salon N Spa and she always looked really hot…”

  “Do you want another beer?” Mike asked.

  Ryan nodded.

  Wanda started to get up to fetch drinks for the men, but Patience laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. They listened as Mike went into the kitchen and returned to the deck with drink refills.

  “So, did you follow her into the bar?” he asked Ryan.

  “Yeah. I stood outside for a while and then I walked up to the entrance. It was pretty busy—people going in and out. I followed a couple in. Then I waited just inside the entrance for my eyes to adjust. There was this little entry hall and I waited there until I was ready and then looked around the corner. There was Mariah in a booth with this guy. I didn’t know him at the time, but it was this guy she had met at work. They were sitting together on the same side of the booth, and they were facing my direction, but were too engrossed in each other to notice me. She was kissing him, and I swear to God he had his hand inside her. I took a couple of pictures of them with my phone and then went back outside and waited.”

  “So you didn’t confront her?”

  “Yeah, no. I was numb. I didn’t know what to do. To tell you the truth, the first thing I thought about doing was killing myself. I didn’t think about all the things I should do to them until later. I just sat and waited. They were in there for about forty-five minutes. Then they came out together and got in her car. They took off, but it was easy enough to follow them. They went to his place—an apartment about a mile away—in that new development that used to be the flood wash. Why would anyone live in a flood zone? I guess it didn’t matter to him. He was only renting. I took pictures of them going in the front door. Then I sat there like a complete fucking moron for more than an hour. When she came back out, she really looked like he rode her hard. I took a couple more pictures and then went home. I had to stop about halfway and heave my guts out.”

  Wanda let out a little whimpering sound. Patience looked at her. She had one hand over her mouth and her eyes were closed.

  “You went back home?” asked Mike.

  “Only long enough to throw a few days worth of clothes in a bag,” Ryan continued. “I had to get back to work. I almost got fired as it was. After work, I got a room at a pay-by-the-week hotel. Mariah didn’t even notice that I never came home until the next day. I went back home and packed some more stuff when she was at work, and then I went right to Edna Drummond’s office.”

  “She’s that lawyer on vueTee,” said Mike. “I’ve seen her commercials. She looks like a really angry woman.”

  “She was exactly what I needed—a-take-no-bullshit lawyer. She put her private investigator to work. He got all of Mariah’s emails and messages and then followed her. She had to know that I knew something was up. I mean, after all, I had moved out. But she didn’t slow down. I had no idea what a whore she was. They got pictures of her with the jerk she met at the bar and one other guy—she was cheating on the guy she was cheating on me with. They found out she had been screwing around on me pretty regularly for two years before that.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, ouch. Then it was six weeks of lawyers. Mariah kept trying to corner me. I have to hand it to her; Drummond managed to keep her away. She even had her arrested for violating a restraining order when she ambushed me at work. In the end though, I had to talk to her. She threw it on the negotiation table. She would give up all rights to my house, which I owned before I even met her, and gave up any alimony in exchange for talking to me.”

  “So what did she say?” asked Mike.

  “The usual shit. We met at Drummond’s office to sign the papers. Everything else was all decided. I just had to sit and listen to her for thirty minutes. She said she was sorry. It didn’t mean anything. She loved me. It had been a mistake. She didn’t know how it started. She knew we could get past it and get back to where we were. I just let her run out the clock, then I signed the papers and left. She kept her word and signed after I was gone. Then we just had to wait six months for it to be final.”

  “Have you seen her since?”

  “I’ve tried not to. I waited until she was completely moved out of the house before I went back. She left a few things at the house, probably thinking I’d call her to come and get them. I just threw them in the trash. I’ve seen her around. A few times she started toward me. I just turned around and walked away. I’ve got nothing to say to her.”

  “Well, that really sucks,” said Mike. “Sometimes life deals you a really shitty hand.”

  “What about you?” asked Ryan. “You were married too, right? Patience said you have a daughter.”

  “My daughter Harriet lives in Greendale. She’s got a little girl of her own. My son is in the military and has been in Japan for a few months now. He’s got a girlfriend I think he might marry if he can get her family to agree.”

  “What about your wife?”

  Mike looked at his hands.

  “I was married for seventeen years. My wife and my youngest daughter were killed in a car crash.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, sometimes life deals you a really shitty hand.”

  Patience stood up and shut the window.

  Chapter Five

  Mike rubbed his forehead and tried to readjust himself in his seat. His headache had come upon him as soon as he had sat down in the diagnostician’s office and the square-backed chairs weren’t doing anything for his back either. He glanced up at the large vueTee on the wall, which was replaying the events of a battle from the Vietnam War. Patience put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Just a few more minutes.”

  “Yeah,” he acknowledged, just before he was called back.

  A scan technician about Mike’s age directed him to a back room. Patience stayed in the lobby. Though she had assured the clerks that it should only be applicable to Gizmos and not Daffodils, robots were not allowed within range of the LMS scanner because of interference. She thumbed through the literature showing the scanner, sure that Mike would be uncomfortable on the strange piece of furniture that formed the base of the machine. It wasn’t quite a chair and it wasn’t quite a table, but rather some sort of chaise that looked as though it was designed by someone who had never actually seen an articulating human body.

  Patience didn’t waste time while waiting. She called up the ship information on the Daffodil and Me Cruises. She picked out the one that she thought would be the best for both Mike and Ryan and booked the staterooms.

  It wasn’t a long wait though, and less than twenty minutes after he had gone in, Mike stepped back out into the lobby.

  “Now that this is done, we can see what is actually wrong with your knee,” she said.

  “Just get me to the car so I can take an aspirin.”

  They walked across the parking lot to the car. Mike was still limping, but only slightly. Once inside, he fumbled around in the glove box as Patience climbed into the driver’s seat. When she was belted in, she reached over and found the aspirin bottle, opened it, and handed two of the white tablets to Mike. She watched as he popped them into his mouth and chewed them.

  “Maybe I just need to eat something.”

  “We have time to stop for lunch,” said Patience. “What kind of food would you like?”

  “What do you mean we have time? Do we have an appointment or something?”

  “I told Harriet that we would watch baby Selma today. She’s bringing her over at 2:00.”

  “When did you talk to her?”

  “While we were driving here.”

  “I hate when you do that,” said Mike. “Maybe I should forbid you to talk on the phone unless I can hear it.”

  “I might think you didn’t trust me then, Mike.”

  Patience started the car and drove o
ut onto the street.

  “I trust you with the most important thing I have,” he said.

  “That’s true. I could have bitten it off last night.”

  “I was referring to my granddaughter. But I’m pretty fond of that too.” He rubbed his head and closed his eyes. “You know Harriet calls you more than she calls me. I’m her father after all.”

  “She only calls me to ask me how you are,” said Patience. “There’s a Burger 21 on the corner. I’m going to stop there. I think you do need to eat something.”

  They stopped and went inside. Mike squinted up at the multimedia menu. The popular hamburger chain featured burgers that rotated in and out each month. At any one time there were twenty-one different burgers available, and there were many different size combinations. You could also get your choice of beef, turkey, veggie, or chicken.

  “Nothing sounds good,” said Mike as he stared at the vast array of burger types. “What should I get?”

  “I’ll order for you. Go sit down.”

  Mike nodded and headed for a booth, while Patience turned her attention to the robotic clerk. He didn’t quite look like a Gizmo, but he certainly wasn’t a Daffodil. He was probably a German import, like her new yardbot.

  “One Damn Gouda Burger, double junior size, with everything; an order of onion rings, and a large Diet Pepsi.”

  Her order delivered to her within two minutes, Patience carried it on a green plastic tray to where Mike was sitting. She carefully unwrapped his food and set it in front of him, before taking her place across the table. He took a long sip of his drink before taking a large bite of his hamburger.

  “This is a damn good burger,” he said appreciatively.

  “No, it’s a Damn Gouda Burger.”

  “Ah, very clever. Good choice.” He took a few more bites, then ate an onion ring, and then sighed. “Yes, that’s better. My headache is starting to go away already.”

  He lifted his Diet Pepsi to his mouth.

  “You know you shouldn’t drink that,” said a female voice from right beside them. “It’s full of chemicals.”

  Mike looked up at the woman standing beside them, his face frowning in annoyance.

  “It has exactly the same amount of chemicals as the same-sized cup of regular Pepsi or water or milk or blood. Those are all made up of chemicals, as is the human body and everything else on earth. Didn’t you learn anything in school? Who the hell are you anyway?”

  “This is Mariah Keller,” said Patience.

  “I just wanted to see who was with the whorebot,” said Mariah.

  Mike snorted. “Well, you got the bot part right. I’d say the rest of it was pretty rich, coming from you.”

  “I don’t know what she told you about me…”

  “Actually, I was unaware that you two had met. Everything I know about you comes from your ex-husband.”

  Mariah frowned.

  “That was a mistake. I didn’t realize what I had. I’ve changed.”

  “What did you do? Have your legs sewn shut?”

  Mariah’s eyes teared up, and turning, she hurried from the restaurant.

  “That was mean, Mike,” said Patience.

  “Don’t you start with me,” he said, turning back to his burger. “As soon as my headache is gone, you’re going to tell me all about your mysterious meetings with Mrs. Keller.”

  “Just one meeting…”

  “Ah! I said, ‘when my headache is gone’.” He took another bite. “This is a Damn Gouda Burger.”

  They reached home well before 2:00 and were waiting when Harriet arrived with the newest addition to the Smith family. Mike’s daughter Harriet, having never been prone to dressing to impress, wore a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt with baby vomit decorating both shoulders. She blew a strand of brown hair out of her eyes and Mike noticed that it had quite a bit of grey in it. Her complexion was a little on the grey side too.

  “Are you all right, Honey?” Mike asked.

  “I haven’t slept in about eight months,” replied Harriet. “Other than that, I’m just peachy.”

  “You look like you’ve lost between six and nine pounds, Harriet,” said Patience.

  “That was a pretty good guess.” Harriet smiled. “It was seven pounds when I stepped on the scales this morning. Just thirty-one pounds of pregnancy weight to go. Here, I’ve got to get going.”

  She thrust the wiggling form of her baby into her father’s hands, handed a huge diaper bag to Patience, and then retreated out the door, seemingly as fast as she could.

  “You look so big,” said Mike to the baby.

  Selma was a chubby little thing, with fat little arms and legs, dressed in tiny white shorts and a tiny pink shirt with a flower on it. She wore tiny white tennis shoes. Her face could have been an antique cupie doll—wispy blond hair, large blue eyes, chubby cheeks, and a tiny bow-shaped mouth. Mike smiled at her and she slapped him in the eye.

  “All right, you,” said Mike, laying the child on the floor, where she immediately began to crawl to the coffee table and climb to her feet.

  Mike began pulling toys, which he had been collecting for months, from a box beside the couch, placing them one after the other in front of Baby Selma to see what caught her eye. While he was thus engaged, Patience explored the voluminous bag that Harriet had handed to her. Emptying it, she carefully sorted the contents into diapers, clothes, toys, food, and medicine. Then she decided to clean the bag. From the sink in the privy, Patience could hear the baby squealing with delight as she threw toys across the room as fast as her grandfather could put them in front of her. She returned to the living room and watched them until they were both exhausted. Then she fed Selma, gave her a bath, and dressed her; after which Mike put the little girl in his lap and read Go Dog Go. When Harriet returned at 5:30, she found her father asleep in his recliner, one leg resting over the chair’s arm, and sprawled across his chest was an equally unconscious Selma.

  “How long has she been asleep?” Harriet asked Patience.

  “Selma has been asleep 37 minutes 6 seconds; Mike 2 minutes 14 seconds longer.”

  Harriet laughed. “You don’t mind if I sit with you for um… about 53 minutes do you? She’s been sleeping about an hour and a half in her naps, and I have a firm rule about waking a baby unnecessarily.”

  “An excellent rule, I’m sure,” replied Patience. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll fix you a snack.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t mind a drink. I’m parched.”

  Patience led her into the dining room, where Harriet took a seat, while she went to the kitchen and poured her a glass of ice water with a slice of lemon in it. While the young mother drank it, Patience poured her another glass, this one of milk, and set it in front of her along with a plate of three peanut butter cookies.

  “Homemade cookies?”

  Patience nodded.

  “I don’t know how you do it. Every time I come over, you have some freshly-made delicious treat, and yet my father is looking leaner than I’ve ever seen him.”

  “That’s because I beat him if he tries to eat any,” said Patience.

  Harriet froze, cookie halfway to her mouth, and then started laughing.

  “It’s a good thing you said that before I had a mouthful of cookie. I might have choked to death. It’s too easy to forget that you have a wicked sense of humor.”

  “It’s your father’s fault,” said the Daffodil. “I learned it from him.”

  “Yes, he’s a fresh one.”

  “In answer to your implied query, I prepare large batches of cookies, but freeze them and only bake a few at a time.”

  “Well, these are delicious.”

  “I was glad that you called us to watch Selma,” said Patience. “I worry that you aren’t taking enough time for yourself.”

  “Oh, I’m taking enough time. I’ve been off work for more than a year now, and I think I may not go back for quite a while. Jack’s doing well enough that we don’t need a second income right now.
And not only that, I’m forcing my husband to prove to me that he can take care of the baby too. It’s going to be daddy-daughter for five hours tomorrow. I’m going out to lunch and some shopping and I don’t know what else. Do you want to go out with me, Patience? I always have more fun with you.”

  “I would love to spend some time with you, Harriet. Would you mind if I invited a friend along with us?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Even if she is another Daffodil?”

  “Really? Sure, I guess that’s fine.”

  “Good,” said Patience. “I’ll pick you up. What time?”

  “Noon o’clock.”

  After another half an hour of conversation and several more cookies, Harriet gathered the baby’s things up and loaded them into the car. Then she lifted Selma up from her grandfather’s chest and buckled the still sleeping child into her car seat. With a wave to Patience, she drove off down the street.

  Mike woke up well before dinner and they spent the rest of the evening watching vueTee and playing Age of Destruction.

  The next day, Patience arrived at Jack and Harriet’s house in Greendale, having already picked up Wanda. The redhead sat quietly in the backseat as they pulled away from the house, leaving Jack, his hands full of a squirming baby, looking longingly at his departing wife.

  “Your husband is very handsome,” said Wanda.

  “He is easy on the eyes and he makes good babies,” replied Harriet. “That makes up for a lot.”

  “Harriet, this is Wanda,” said Patience.

  “So, you’re another robot,” said Harriet, half turning.

  “I am not a robot. I am a Daffodil.”

  Harriet snickered and turned to Patience. “I just wanted to see if she’d say it.”

  “Wanda is my new friend,” continued Patience. “You may know her companion. He goes to your church. Ryan Keller?”

  “Ryan Keller? You know, I think I do know who he is. Bald guy? Goatee?”

 

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