December 3
"Futsack!" mumbled Melissa as she placed her teacup back on its ssaucer with a loud clank. "I don't know why I gave him outside access. I thought he knew better - but it's not his fault. I should have checked the weather Friday night. I would have seen the storm coming. We could have..."
"It's not your fault." Martha interrupted. "I did check the weather on Friday, and I knew there was a storm coming, but I didn't call to let you know. I should have..."
"It's nobody's fault." declared Maggie flatly. "Nobody's fault, and you know it."
"I know it, but Mrs. Harding doesn't." She took another sip of tea.
"Harding?" asked Maggie.
"Her case worker." Martha explained.
Melissa spoke in a nasal voice, parroting the words of her cold, impersonal case worker. "I'm sure you realize there will be an investigation. And pending the outcome of that investigation, we will be placing your second petition for adoption on hold. Of course the girl that we lined up for you still needs to be placed in a timely manner, so she will be adopted by another family, but rest assured, once our investigation is complete, and assuming you are cleared of any culpability in this matter, there will be plenty of other children to adopt. We'll be calling you shortly."
Melissa returned to her normal voice. "Gee wizz, thanks alot. Thanks for nothing. They just figure I'm a murderer, and on we go. I mean I just lost my son, and nothing. Nothing but an investigation. If any other family lost a child in the storm, there would be cries of sympathy from all across Antarctica, but since I didn't give birth to him, well, I'm not really a fit parent anyways, so who cares? We're second class citizens, and treated like dirt. Honestly, you should see the crap we have to go through; all you have to do is get pregnant. It's crap!"
Melissa picked up her empty teacup and hurled it against the wall just below the kitchen window. Broken fragments scattered across the floor and glinted in the afternoon sun. Martha jumped in surprise.
"It's just a teacup." explained Maggie, placing her hand on Martha's arm. "I'm sure Simon will take care of it."
"Sorry about that." mumbled Melissa in a meak voice. It was so easy to forget Martha was blind.
As if on cue, Simon wheeled into the room. He recognized the sound of breaking glass and traced it to its source. His head turned from side to side as his stereo cameras recorded the locations of the fragments on the floor. They were easy to spot under the glare of the afternoon sun. "Please, stay where you are." he urged in a quiet synthesized voice. "Pieces could be sharp." He extended his broom and dust-pan and began sweeping up the debris. Since he was barely 3 feet tall, he slid under the kitchen table with ease. "Please keep your feet still while I sweep around them." He switched on his auxilliary light and bent down to study shoes, socks, and legs. His primary responsibility was the safety of his human hosts; cleaning was a secondary function. There were no shards on any of the six shoes or socks, so he returned to his sweeping.
Melissa continued in calmer tones. "I tried to make funeral arrangements, and you know, I can't even do that. He's not legally mine, so the state has taken care of everything."
"Not yours?" asked Maggie in surprise. "You've had him for almost a year."
"Right." replied Melissa. "The placement is temporary, with monthly visits from the case worker, for a year; then the adoption is finalized. The court date was set for next month. Until that time, he's not mine. No birth certificate, no medical records, nothing. Technically I'm not suppose to take him out of the county, even to see a baseball game. Well that one isn't enforced, but you get the idea."
"At least the state pays for the funeral." offered Martha, desperately searching for a silver lining.
"Yeah, that's true, and we don't have a lot of money. So I guess that's a good thing."
"Excuse me ladies." Simon interrupted. "I need to vacuum up the smaller pieces." A flexible tube extended from his right side and his on-board motor roared to life. Conversation came to a halt while he moved about the kitchen floor. Maggie was almost amused. A billion years of technology and we still don't know how to build a quiet vacuum cleaner. Finally Simon turned off his motor and rolled over to Melissa. "Will there be anything else Mrs. Hanson?" he asked.
She looked down at him, and for a moment it seemed like Simon was a true companion, a friend in time of need. You could almost forget he was a robot. Their eyes met, and his cameras detected the refraction patterns of her tears. He called up his emotional support routine, a new feature in the Simon-9000 series. "I hope you feel better soon." he volunteered.
"Nothing else right now." said Melissa softly, in response to his earlier question. As Simon left the room she turned back towards Maggie and Martha. "It's funny, the other day I was cutting onions for spaghetti, and he comes into the kitchen, sees the tears, and offers his condolences." She paused for a moment. "No matter, he's a good helper. I like the new 9000 model. More expensive than the 7300, but worth it. Sometimes, when Garit is at work, I think I'm going to need that new, emotional support routine. Conversation, games, anything to distract me; the house is so quiet."
Maggie pushed her chair back from the table. "Melissa, I hate to leave you, but my kids will be home from school soon, and I'd better get home." She stood up and walked around the table to give Melissa a hug.
"Yes yes." said Melissa. "I understand. And I'm glad you came. It means a lot."
"That's ok, you can take my arm." Magggie offered, and Martha put her folded cane back in its case. "I'll call a double car, and drop you off first."
"Thanks." said Martha, as they left together. Melissa watched them go in silence. She didn't know what to do, so she just sat. She looked out the window, then looked at the kitchen door, then looked at the two teacups that represented her two best friends. Finally she looked down at her empty saucer, its teacup gone. Like her beautiful boy, gone.