I slept in today. I think I knew all along that I wouldn’t get much writing done. I’d written a ton of stuff on Wednesday, and it needed some major repairs. I took my time getting to it.
When I walked in, Lisa* was in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans. She was playing with Bunny her rabbit on the lobby floor. She never looked up as I headed for the coffee pot.
No coffee. I put the ingredients together and headed for my swanky new room. Doubt’s** water dish was empty, and so was his food. Back to the kitchen again to tend the raven. Lisa had her back to me now.
I went over my Wednesday writing and Doubt croaked multiple times. I’ve learned to pay attention to him, and tightened up my passages. An hour went by and I had to get my own coffee.
Lisa’s “I’d rather be naked than wear fur” poster looked down at me from the kitchen wall. Bunny covered all the good parts, but it was still impressive.
The shower came on upstairs.
Another four hours passed and I was able to get some new words down. My word count is up to 32,318 if you’re keeping score.
When the beer horns went off, Lisa never showed up. I filled them with beer and set one outside to keep cool.
She came downstairs, her hair in a bun and devoid of all makeup.
“What’s the deal,” I asked. “Wednesday you couldn’t wait to put on your Morticia dress and make me that weasel coffee. Today it’s like you aren’t even here. That isn’t suitable office attire, and I’ve never seen you not made up.”
She put her hand to her mouth and said, “Oh, do I still work here?”
“Of course you do. What makes you ask a silly thing like that?”
“What was yesterday?”
“Your boot up day?” I held my hands apart and tried to act cute. I never was good at cute.
She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “It was payday, genius. Did you forget?”
“Oh crap, sorry. I’ll take care of it right now.” I ran to my original office and booted up the Mac. The beer horn followed me.
A few quick keystrokes and, “Done!”
She paused at the door and looked off into space.
“What are you doing?”
“Spreading it across twelve bank accounts in bits and pieces, merging and re splitting, then transferring to a new account. I’ll withdraw it all from there and buy gift cards.”
“Why? Do you still keep a runaway bag?”
“You know it. I need money to get to my convention appearances. In my private life, I don’t like to be found. My attorney isn’t exactly free either. And sometimes, Lisa needs a new pair of shoes.” She ran for the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to change. I have some cool dresses that are perfect for the kind of story you’re working on.”
I sipped my beer from my old recliner. Why can’t women just tell us what’s wrong? Maybe I shouldn’t have written her so accurately. I decided to write some more now that Lisa was into it. I have the house to myself tonight and there’s no reason to go back.
* Lisa is from one of my novels. She works as my assistant now, (still) and is a robot.
** Doubt was a gift from my Muse. He is a raven, but I suspect there’s more to him.