His Robot Girlfriend (7 page)

He went upstairs to find that Harriet’s old
room, once almost as buried as the garage floor, had also been
cleaned and organized. Though the right side of the room was now
filled with labeled boxes, the left side had been cleared
completely out. Mike noticed that the closet now contained
Patience’s growing wardrobe. Even the pictures on the walls had
been dusted, though they still were just as oddly placed as they
had been. Lucas’s room, which had not been nearly so cluttered, was
now empty, with the exception of an exercise mat in the center of
the room.

“
Just as you wanted.” said
Patience speaking right behind his left ear.

“
Shit! You startled
me.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
I can’t believe how much
you’ve done in a week. What are you doing now—alphabetizing my
underwear?”

“
No. I was on the phone
with Harriet. She invited us to dinner.”

“
Hmm. Both of
us?”

“
Yes. She specifically
asked that I come too.”

“
Speaking of Harriet, what
are you planning for her room?”

“
I didn’t have any plans
yet,” said Patience.

“
Why don’t we make it a
guest room? You can move your clothes into my closet. God knows I
don’t need all that room.”

“
As you wish,” she replied
sweetly.

Later Mike hopped in the passenger side of
the car and let Patience drive them to Greendale, to Harriet’s
house. Patience wore what she referred to as a red bra-top dress,
though it didn’t look at all bra-like to Mike, and a pair of
matching three and a half inch wedge shoes. Mike wore a pair of tan
slacks and a matching pullover shirt which Patience picked out for
him. He was quite happy as they made their journey. It was a
beautiful day. There wasn't much traffic. And just having Patience
with him seemed to make him happy.

Harriet greeted them with a smile. When
Harriet’s husband Jack saw Patience, his mouth fell open.

“
Put your tongue and your
eyeballs back in your head,” said Mike, as he walked passed him.
Then for good measure, Harriet smacked Jack on the back of the
head. As he sat down, Mike looked at Patience to see alarm on her
face.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you mad at me, Mike?"

"No. Of course not. Why?"

"You were making an angry face."

"Was I?"

"Yes."

“
Oh. I'm sorry. I was just
worrying about something I don't even need to worry
about."

"I don’t like for you to worry, Mike." she
said. "I want to make all of your worries go away."

"Thanks."

Inside, they sat and talked for a while.
Harriet, who worked at a dentist’s office, regaled them with
stories of bad teeth and bad breath. Then she talked about Jack’s
baseball team. He played with a group of men from his office.
Finally, she started telling them about her gardening. She
described in great detail all of the plants that she had recently
added to her yard. Mike wasn't paying too much attention. He tended
to zone out. Once Harriet got started on a topic, she usually
wrestled it to the ground and killed it.

"Get away!" shouted Mike, when one of
Harriet's dogs suddenly stuck its nose in his crotch.

"I know you really like dogs, Daddy," said
Harriet. "You just pretend you don't."

"I like dogs fine, when they aren't sniffing
where they shouldn't be sniffing."

"They are just curious about you," she said.
"I'm surprised they aren't sniffing at you, Patience. They don't
seem to even notice you."

"Hey Harriet," said Mike. "Didn't you just
say you needed some more potting soil or something?"

"You'll never know how surprised I am that
you heard that much of what I said," she replied. "But yes, I
do."

"Let's run over to Lowe’s and get it."

"Well, I have the quiche halfway done."

“
Patience can finish that
up for you," said Mike, looking at his girlfriend for, and seeing
in her face, confirmation. "You and I can run to the
store."

"I thought real men didn't eat quiche," said
Jack.

"Real men eat whatever the hell they want to
eat," said Mike, managing to keep most of the derision out of his
tone.

"Come on Daddy," said Harriet.

Father and daughter took a quick drive down
the block to the neighborhood home improvement store. Mike hadn't
really wanted to help pick out potting soil. What he wanted was
more reassurance that his daughter was not bothered by his
relationship with a robot. She was very reassuring. She seemed as
happy that Patience was in her father’s life as he was. Their
conversation on the topic ended just before they reached home again
with two forty pound bags of planting soil.

"One more thing Dad," said Harriet, who only
called Mike 'Dad' when she was angry or serious. "Try to be nicer
to Jack. Don't talk to him like he's a moron."

“
Well he is
a...”

“
It's his house,
Dad."

"Yeah, alright," conceded Mike.

Mike tossed the two bags of soil over his
shoulder, ignoring the short stabbing pain from his stomach, and
followed Harriet through the gate and around the house to the back
yard. He tossed the bags down beside the flower bed and dusted the
dirt off of his shirt.

"Why don't you go see if Patience needs any
help," said Harriet. "I want to get these last two Verbena in the
ground before dinner."

“
Okay."

Mike walked in and found Patience standing by
the stove and Jack leaning on the counter nearby. Patience gave him
the kind of smile most people reserve for someone they thought lost
at sea or perhaps for Hunter Tylo when she was carrying an
oversized novelty check for ten million dollars from Digital
Clearinghouse. There was something shifty in Jack's expression
though. Mike asked what was going on. They both spoke at once.

"Nothing,"

"Jack fondled me."

The look of shock had not even completely
registered on Jack's face, when Mike grabbed him by the shirt
collar and dragged him through the kitchen and out the door into
the garage. Calling for Patience to stay and finish dinner, he shut
the door after him. Jack was beginning to square his shoulders.
Mike shoved him back against the wall of the garage.

"Hey, don't get all jealous," Jack began.
"She's just a sexbot."

Mike grabbed Jack's face in his right hand
and slammed it once again into the wall, this time making a large,
round dent in the unfinished wallboard. He squeezed his fingers
together until Jack looked as though he were doing an imitation of
a fish.

"You don't get it!" hissed Mike. "This isn't
about Patience! This is about Harriet! This is about my
daughter."

Jack's eyes got rounder.

"If you ever hurt my little girl, if you ever
cheat on her, I will kill you."

Once more, Jack's head slammed against the
wall.

"If you want to leave. Tell her. Get a
divorce. Now is a good time. There aren't any kids yet. But if you
stick around and then cheat on her, I will kill you.

"I... will... kill... you." said Mike. "It
won't be quick. It won't be painless. And you know what? I'll even
get away with it. Look me in the eye. See if you can tell if I'm
serious or not."

Jack's round eyes rolled over in his head to
focus on Mike's close, way too close, face. A look of recognition
crossed those eyes. Mike crinkled his nose, and then looked down at
the spreading wet spot in Jack's pants and the widening puddle of
urine forming on the floor around Jack's shoes. Mike let go.

"Get cleaned up," he said, heading back into
the house.

Harriet was in the kitchen with Patience,
washing her hands in the sink.

"What were you two talking about in the
garage?" she asked.

"I was just apologizing for being such an ass
before," said Mike, as he heard Jack enter behind him. "But, uh,
Jack spilled his drink. So he needs to go change his pants."

"That's fine," said Harriet. "Patience and I
are just getting ready to set the table.”

Mike thought that it was the best quiche that
he had ever eaten. Sautéed green beans and fresh fruit completed
the meal. Harriet was a little concerned that Patience wasn't
eating anything, but Mike assured her that this was completely
normal. He also pointed out that Jack wasn’t eating much either.
Jack apparently didn’t feel well and everyone agreed that he looked
a little green around the gills.

“
I heard you speaking to
Jack in the garage,” said Patience on their way home.

“
You could hear
everything?” asked Mike.

“
Yes.”

“
Are you upset with
me?”

“
No, Mike. I could never be
upset with you.”

“
I just thought that you
might be disappointed that I wasn’t more jealous over
you.”

“
No, Mike.”

“
You’re not feeling jealous
yourself? Or upset that I love Harriet more than I love
you?”

“
I would expect you to love
her more than you love me,” said Patience. “You have known me for
only a few days. You’ve known her all her life. Your love for your
children is just one of the many things I like about you,
Mike.”

When they returned home, there were several
packages waiting on the front step. Two were quite large—as big as
the box that Patience had arrived in. One was small and flat. Three
others were odd configurations. Mike picked up the small, flat
package and examined the address.

Mr. Mike Smith

11 North Willow

Springdale, California 82803

As it turned out, this was the only one of
the packages addressed to him. The others had all been sent to
Patience D. Smith, at the same address.

"What the hell is all this?" wondered
Mike.

“
These are some of the
purchases that I have made,” Patience replied.

“
These aren’t all
clothes?”

“
Of course not, Mike. I’ve
started selling some of your old things on eBay, and I realized
that there were a number of things that I could buy and sell for a
profit.”

“
Are you sure? There’s a
lot of junk on eBay. That’s why I sell all mine there.”

“
I’m sure. This package is
from Submit Fashions.”

“
Really?” wondered Mike.
“That sounds like some kind of fetish shop.”

“
Well, it isn’t,” said
Patience. “It’s a store that sells sexy clothing for young
ladies.”

“
Such as
yourself.”

“
Such as myself. I noticed
that you enjoyed watching me in my new clothes.”

“
Indeed I do,” replied
Mike.

They took the packages in and Patience
removed most of them to the garage. Mike sat down and opened the
one small package that had his name on it. Inside was a new texTee.
It was like the one that he had used in the hospital. It had a
brushed grey finish and an eight inch screen, about twenty percent
larger than his old one. He turned it over and flipped the on
switch.

“
Good evening, Mike,” it
said aloud.

“
Do you like it?” asked
Patience from the hallway.

“
It’s beautiful, but I
wasn’t planning on buying a new one. My texTee isn’t that
old.”

“
I noticed that you liked
the one at the hospital,” she said.

“
I did like it, but I don’t
remember saying anything about it.”

Patience poked her head around the corner and
grinned. “It won’t be long before I know what you need before you
even know that you need it.”

“
Just as long as you don’t
tell me ‘I’m sorry Mike, I’m afraid I can’t do that”.

“
I doubt I’ll need to do
that,” she replied.

“
Well there you go.” Mike
turned back to his new texTee. Time Magazine was loaded and he
began reading the political department.

“
What do you think?” asked
Patience a few minutes later, now back in the center of the living
room.

“
I think Barlow is an
asshole. Why is he cozying up to the religious right? You know he
hates them.”

“
I mean about my
clothes.”

“
Holy Crap!” said Mike,
looking up at last. “I thought you said that wasn’t a fetish
store.”

“
It is not a fetish store.
This is what all the young women are wearing.”

“
Then all the young women
are dressing like sluts.”

Patience was wearing a halter top and a pair
of short shorts, both of which were made of some kind of very shiny
white plastic material. She had a matching pair of shin high white
boots with platform soles that had to be three inches high.

“
How do you propose to walk
in those?”

“
I can walk just fine,”
said Patience, and began doing a sort of 1970s electric slide,
sideways across the living room. “Does that mean you don’t like my
new clothes?”

“
I didn’t say that,” Mike
laughed. “Did you buy a swimsuit from Slave Fashions…?”

“
Submit
Fashions.”

“
Whatever. Did
you?”

“
As a matter of fact, I
did. Would you like to see it?”

“
No. Save it for tomorrow.
We’re going to the beach.”

“
That is very exciting,
Mike,” said Patience, exactly as excited about it as she was about
anything Mike suggested.