Page 16 of Proslo

“Shall we eat?” he asked, standing. “That way we can face the moving crew with full stomachs.”

“I could eat. I don’t remember seeing any food in the fridge though or anything to cook it with.”

“There’s the replicator or we could go out.”

We’d watched three half hour episodes and the guy had said the movers would be here in three hours. That meant half our time was gone and by the time we decided on a place to eat, got there, ordered, and then ate, we’d be pushing it.

“How about we go out for breakfast and eat replicated space food tonight?” I suggested.

He gave a nod. “We can stop by the food market after and choose items to be delivered afterward.”

“Yeah, sure. Grocery shopping after sounds good,” I replied, following him into the kitchen.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked me, standing in front of the open cabinet looking thing that was the replicator.

“I can order anything at all?”

“You can. If Xeranos doesn’t have the recipe, he can get it for the next time. He’s only had to do that a handful of times as far as I know.”

“So if I asked for Brunswick stew, I could get it?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” I replied decisively. “With saltines on the side to crumble in.”

“Xeranos, a portion of Brunswick stew, please, with a side order of saltines and eating utensils provided.”

“Georgia or Virginia style?” came the Ai’s response.

I had not known there were two kinds. “Um, like what comes in the cans I get from the grocery store, I guess.”

“So less chunky vegetables?” Xeranos asked.

“Oh. I don’t mind it if the veggies aren’t mushy.” I’d always thought they were mushy because the stew came in a discount brand’s can.

“Georgia style it is then,” Xeranos announced and I watched in amazement as light played within the open cabinet and a bowl of steaming stew appeared, along with a soup spoon wrapped in a napkin and a side plate of saltine crackers.

“Wow,” I said, taking my food. “It’s one thing to see that on TV in a sci fi show and another to see it for real in person.”

“What would you like to drink?”

My mom had grown up in Alabama, so I was a sweet tea girl all the way. “A glass of Luzianne sweet tea, decaf,” I replied. I was very particular about my iced tea and I didn’t care who knew it.

The replicator worked its magic again and a glass of iced tea appeared. Proslo grabbed my drink and led me back into the living room where we could sit down and eat. I pushed the coffee table forward and placed my food onto it before sitting down on the floor so I wouldn’t have to bend over awkwardly everytime I wanted a bite. He sat my iced tea down and I took a taste. It was perfectly chilled and I could taste that it was definitely my requested brand of tea.

Proslo left and I heard him ask for the same thing I’d just ordered and he returned to place his food down before disappearing to get his drink. I smiled, seeing he’d copied me in this too.

“Trying new things, huh?”

“I would like to try the things you enjoy,” he agreed.

It was sweet, I decided, and made total sense. After all, we’d be cooking meals together soon, and making only one meal would be easier. In fact, everything about him was easier than any of the jerks I’d gone out with before. If I’d met a human guy who’d been this easy going and thoughtful, I’d have kept him, putting a ring on his finger, let me tell you. But I hadn’t, and to be honest, except for the whole nasty last date I’d had with Daryll, I didn’t regret anything. It had all led me to getting off my ass and going for my RN, and if I was being completely truthful with myself, I might have settled for less than this level of thoughtfulness and caring. Not that I’d have stayed with anyone who was a huge asshole, my track record already proved that. But I’d have compromised while believing that my perfect man was a mere fantasy, and it would have been my great loss.

10

PROSLO

The movers were right on time. Since my office was the only room we knew for certain wouldn’t have anything added to it from her former apartment, we shut Pumpkin inside it to allow free movement in and out. The first things brought in turned out to be three boxes labeled kitchen, which we decided to simply have them leave on the breakfast bar. A chiller box was next, filled with the items found in her refrigerator; those I placed in our own chiller unit so Betty could direct them to where she wanted everything. I wanted her to make this her home and felt that she would feel more as if she had claimed this space as hers if she did so.