Alarms are a relic of the past, she wakes up when she’s ready.
The door to her wardrobe slides open and two hangars push outward presenting green shorts and a flower-print tank top. Victor has made a wardrobe selection matching the apartment’s climate configuration. There is a rumbling sound before a tray opens on the bottom dispensing a rolled up pair of matching panties. An aesthetic choice based on her profile.
Rolling out of bed, she squints against the sunlight as she checks her phone for the weather. “Looks hot today, Victor. What should I wear?”
“Quite right madame,” he replies in her ear, “may I suggest the green shorts with flowered top?”
“Oh, I think that will look nice!” She dresses before heading downstairs to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The kitchen is immaculately clean, Victor selects a light breeze program accompanied by the sounds of birds in the distance, and a soft piano concerto. Cool air flows through the room drawing her to the coffee pot, where her favourite mug is waiting to be filled.
Taking a deep breath she savours the smell, “Victor, is that a hint of cinnamon I detect?”
“Nutmeg madame. My sensors detected increased salivary gland stimulation when I added trace amounts to your cake. It was a logical estimation that you would have a similar reaction if it was added to certain other foods.”
Her eyes are drawn upward and she scowls while pouring a cup, “Victor! How many times do I need to tweak this? Speak like a person!”
“Apologies madame.” There is a pause as Victor recalibrates, “Yes! I can see why you’d guess cinnamon! Very astute. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
She smiles and takes a sip, “Wonderful. Thank you. I accept your apology, but let’s not have this happen again.” Her mug is warm and comforting, she cups it in her hands holding it tight to her body. Leaning against the counter she thinks about her day. There is no rush to get to work, but she doesn’t have any other plans. She’s at risk of becoming bored.
“Victor?”
“Yes madame.”
“I don’t want to go to work yet.”
‘Understood. Gene is here to visit.”
The coffee must be upsetting her stomach, the mug feels hot in her suddenly sweaty palms. Gene is her good friend, but lately she’s been hoping there might be more to their relationship. Pouring a second mug, she takes a deep breath and heads to the living room to find him relaxing on the sofa waiting for her.
She greets him with a bright smile, “Coffee? I included a hint of cinnamon.”
“That’s very sweet, thank you,” he gestures to a coaster on the coffee table.
She sets his mug down and takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. She pulls up her legs and rests her mug atop her knees. She hopes Gene doesn’t misread her anxiety. She stares at him from behind the mug, and he returns her gaze with quiet confidence. He says nothing as they continue to lock eyes. She blushes and looks down at her coffee, breaking the spell.
She’s too afraid to utter the words in her heart. To tell him how much he means to her. That she thinks of him all the time, even when he’s away. Every day, each time he comes over to visit, she feels herself full of energy and optimism. Of all her possible futures, in the brightest version she’s with him. She glances at his untouched mug and sighs.
“The coffee is very good,” Gene smiles. “What is it you said you put in it?”
“Cinnamon. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
“It certainly is a nice surprise. My salivary gland is stimulated.”
Before she can reply he stands up, “I really must be going.”
“Oh so soon? You just got here.” Her response is the same every morning.
He shakes his head and gives her a warm smile, “I’ll be back before midday.” He runs his hand through his thick hair.
She loves the way his biceps bulge when he does that. Gene is fit, but not overly muscular like a body builder. She had gone through musclebound phases a few times, but these days she finds herself desiring a leaner body, athletic with strong arms. The ridges under his shirt promise more to be discovered– soon! She hopes.
She sighs and returns his smile, “Don’t take too long. We should talk when you get back.”
He nods and she stands, making her way back to the kitchen. Her energy is high, but she’s too excited yet to go to work. She refills her mug, “Oh Victor! I wish he’d just take me up in those big arms!” She leans against the counter and stares out the window.
“Gene is very interested in you, I’m certain.”
“Really? How can you tell?”
“He visits multiple times each day. He’s always kind. And his pupils fully dilate whenever he looks at you.”
“Watch it,” she holds a finger up, her tone cold, “that’s getting awfully close to non-person talk.”
“Apologies madame. Am I correct in assuming you are a bit too excited to go to work right now?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“Madame, Mrs. Jessica is here to visit. Perhaps you’d like to gossip about your morning with Gene. That might blow off enough steam to get you to work.”
“Oh wonderful!” She pours another mug of coffee and brings it to the living room where her friend is calmly waiting for her. At her arrival, Jessica jumps up and squeals, “Ohh girl. Guess who I saw leaving on my way up! Did he sleep over?”
Jessica has been her best friend since childhood. From the first time they met their bond was forged, as if they were made for each other. In all the years since, not once have they ever had an argument. Jessica is a true friend, always putting their relationship first.
“No he didn’t sleep over,” she smiles. We haven’t gotten there yet, but god I can’t wait.” She sets Jessica’s mug on the table next to Gene’s untouched one. “I haven’t gathered up the nerve to ask him yet. What if it ruins our friendship? I don’t want to make things awkward and lose him.”
Jessica grabs her hands, “Oh hun. The man is here an average of four-point-two times daily. If that doesn’t tell you he’s interested then what does?”
She sits, guiding Jessica to the sofa, “I know. I told him I want to talk when he gets back.”
“Oooooh, big things are brewing.”
“Maybe. The suspense is killing me. I just want to get it over with.”
Jessica shakes her head, “You say that, but each time he visits your heart rate increases and you have a more optimal outlook. I think you’re enjoying the game more than you’d like to admit. Like a child at Christmas, half the fun is waiting to open the gift sitting under the tree.”
“Yeah,” she laughs, “so long as I eventually get to unwrap it.”
Jessica laughs hard at the jest, “Well for sure. But working up the courage to ask him yourself will be good for you. So you’ll have to make the first move.” She looks at her untouched coffee, “This is really good. Did you do something different?”
“I added cinnamon!”
“Wow! You go girl! Brilliant!”
She feels better talking to Jessica, as if a weight has been lifted from her chest. She nods, “Well, I guess I should be getting to work. Talk later?”
“Sure thing hun. You’ll have to tell me how it goes with Mean Gene,” Jessica gives her a wink.
She stands and waves goodbye to her friend as she returns to the kitchen to refill her mug. “OK Victor, let’s go to work.”
“Yes madame.” On the far end of the counter, a sliding door reveals a computer console, “What will it be today? A poem? Perhaps some music?”
“Art I believe,” she responds, taking a seat on the stool. “I dreamed of a scene I’d like to create.”
“Excellent! What did you see?”
‘“Red.” The screen in front of her turns a rich crimson. “No darker. With shadows along the top here,” she moves her finger in a wave along the top, “a gradient with more intensity in the middle.”
“What else did you see?”
“Rocks along the bottom…No no. Pointy ones like this. And black like they’re shadows. Right just like that, but put a light source over here, so these ones have a little more definition.”
“This looks very good madame.”
“Thank you Victor.” She bites her lip, tilting her head back and forth. “Something is missing…there were people, just their shadows along the wall opposite the light source. No no, smaller. There, just like that.”
She sits back admiring the image and takes another sip of coffee.
“This looks wonderful madame. Is it ready to share?”
“Yeah,” she nods, examining the image from her dream, “I think it is. Go ahead and upload it.”
“Very well.”
Immediately her phone pings with likes. Jessica commented, OMG Girl! You’re so talented! 🎉 She drinks her coffee as others chime in with their own comments. A few are nasty. One is from Mitchel, her body building ex who was always jealous of her successes. But as far as she’s concerned, his negative comment is worth ten random positive ones.
Gene still hasn’t commented. She frowns, what if he doesn’t like it? The coffee bubbles in her stomach as she finishes the last drop. Just as she is about to get up from her work station, he chimes in, This is the best one yet! ❣️
A heart! That’s a first! She clenches her fists in excitement, her nails bite into the flesh of her palms. Is it time for him to return yet? Maybe she should check on Martin first.
“Victor, I’d like to see how Martin is doing.”
Her artwork disappears from her monitor and displays a bedroom door with the name Martin written in multicoloured crayon. She chews her lip as she waits for him to accept the call. It rings four times before her screen changes to a live feed of his bedroom.
“Hi mom.” the seven-year-old boy doesn’t look up from his own screen, he’s facing away from her, engrossed in his work.
“Hi hun. Don’t mean to disturb you. Just thought I’d check in and see how your day’s going.”
“My heart rate is optimal, and I am learning about the Industrial Revolution in class today.”
“Always such a clever boy. What else are you studying?”
“I made a poem about Petey.” He pointed to an animatronic parrot perched above his bedroom door.
“That’s nice. Did you share it with your friends?”
“Yep. Lots of likes. A few nasty comments from my haters…Sorry mom. I really gotta go. Lots to do.”
“Oh. OK…Um Martin?”
“Yeah,” he sighs.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. Of course. I have no problems at all.”
“OK. yeah. Just…just wanted to see you.”
“OK.”
“OK. Bye hun. Be good.”
“Yeah.”
Her artwork returns on her screen as the call ends. She feels low, all the mirth of the morning dissipated. Maybe she shouldn’t check on Martin so often. It doesn’t seem to make either of their days any better.
“Madame, Gene is waiting for you in the living room.”
“Oh good!”
Before heading to the living room she passes the coffee maker. The pot still has plenty left in it, but she hesitates. Maybe she’s had enough for one day.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Gene calls out from the living room.
“Coming Gene! You’re right on time.”
She shakes her head, refills her mug, and pours a cup for him. Carrying the steaming vessels, she decides today is the day she’s going to let him know how she feels.
She enters the living room to find today’s perfect man waiting obediently. She sets his coffee on the table next to the other two untouched mugs and balls herself up on the other end of the sofa.
“Gene, I…I have something I want to tell you.”
He waits patiently, a soft smile on his face.
This is it. Now or never.
“I think I love you.”
His smile broadens, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
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