"I'd like to see you right now, please," Abby's tone, though not
hostile, was unrefusable.
Linda appeared hesitantly in the doorway, hands behind her.
Abby smiled pleasantly. "Who was that boy, dear? I don't think I know
him."
"Jimmy Stone," Linda said, excitement creeping into her voice. "He
lives over in Sector Five, and he's in my history class at school."
Abby recognized the symptoms and frowned mentally at the diagnosis.
"He's probably a very nice young man, but--"
"He is, he's very nice," Linda agreed quickly. "He's going to be an
astronautical engineer. Look what he made me in plastics class."
She drew her hands from behind her and held a scarlet rose cupped in
them. It looked soft, as smooth as though it had been just plucked, as
though it held a fragrance that was not artificial.
"It's very nice," Abby admitted, but she wondered how in this age of
intense specialization a future astronautical engineer had managed
to enroll in a plastics class to waste his time making pseudo-roses.
Despite her wish to the contrary, she found herself briefly admiring
the youngster, then told herself it was a case of puppy love that had
inspired the frivolity. "But don't you think you're a little young to
be thinking about boys?"
"No," Linda said defensively, pouting. "I like Jimmy and he likes me. I
don't see why we shouldn't see each other."
"You're in the same class," Abby pointed out; "that should be enough.
After all, you're only seventeen."
"Yes," Linda flared in annoyance, and rushed on in a sudden torrent,
"then I'll be eighteen and then nineteen and then twenty and then
thirty. If I wait long enough maybe I'll let life pass me by, like--"
She paused, eyes wide and regretful at what she was about to say.
Abby smiled gently, but a cold chill gripped her. "Like me?" she said.
"You're afraid of being an old maid like me, is that it?"
She hated to use the expression "old maid," but she knew that was what
many people called her. She minded the name more than she admitted even
to herself, for the words held an unpleasantness, a loneliness she
didn't feel--very often anyway. But then she had Linda for company.
Linda's features softened. "I'm sorry, Aunt Abby," she said quietly.
"That's all right, child, I understand how you feel," Abby said. "Now,
you go along up and take a shower and get yourself ready for supper,
and maybe we'll talk about it later."
Linda nodded soberly and turned away.
Abby sat in the silence of the room, listening to the soft whisper of
the escalator. It hurt her to think that Linda wasn't going to show her
the plastic rose at first. You had to be firm in these matters, though,
to prevent worse trouble. If care weren't taken, Linda might rush off
and be married before she was ready. This was a difficult time for the
poor thing, that was certain, but she'd get over it. The little things
in a child's life always seemed more important than they really were;
that's why there were older people to guide them.
Her own mother had been very strict, and Abby saw no reason to regret
it. If it hadn't been for that, she might have married the first boy
she'd met. She tried to recall him, but somehow she couldn't, and only
a vague image came to mind. It disturbed her to have that blank spot in
her memory, but Somatic drugs had consistently failed to fill it in.
Linda came in a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed but not convinced.
"All ready, dear?" Abby said pleasantly.
She got up and put a consoling arm about the young girl. Together they
went into the dining room, where Gretchen had silently placed the
appropriate food a few minutes before.
* * * * *
They ate in silence, with only the sounds of eating and an occasional
whir from the robot-maid as she appeared and disappeared with dishes.
Linda was moody, thoughtful.
"How was the field trip, dear?" Abby wondered.
"All right," Linda answered. "The Venusian amoeba is very much like our
own, the man said. It even reproduces itself by division."
"Isn't that nice," Abby said, just a bit hesitantly, uncertain that
reproduction by any means should be discussed. However, if they taught
it in school--
"I feel sorry for it," Linda said.
Abby stared at her.
"Having no one to love," Linda went on, a faraway look on her face, "no
one to love it. If it has any feelings, it must be very lonely."
Abby made an irritable stab at a piece of synthetic potato on
her plate. "Nonsense," she snapped. "You're talking like a silly
schoolgirl."
On second thought, she decided that Linda _was_ a silly schoolgirl and
would naturally talk like one; she was still a little girl, dependent
for protection upon her Aunt Abby. That thought gave her some measure
of comfort.
"I feel like an amoeba sometimes," Linda said, poking restlessly at a
piece of meat on her plate.
"Sometimes I wish you were, dear," Abby said, feeling strangely annoyed
by the statement. "Now, eat your steak before it gets cold."
"Don't you ever get lonely, Aunt Abby," Linda asked. "Suppose Dr. Gower
went away, wouldn't you be lonely."
"Dr. Gower is not going away," Abby pointed out.
"He might," Linda insisted. "You haven't seen him for three days now.
He might be gone already."
Despite herself, Abby felt sudden panic. "He's probably busy. Doctors
are busy these days."
"He could have called."
"Linda, eat your supper," Abby said sternly, "and stop this nonsense.
Besides, what difference would it make. One person doesn't make the
world begin or end. Dr. Gower and I are good friends, but we must
adjust to these things. If he is gone away, he's gone, and that's all
there is to it!"
She tried to make her voice sound calm, but there was a sinking feeling
in her stomach, and a small questioning voice in the back of her mind
kept asking did he? did he? did he? Furiously, she thrust the thought
aside.
"I saw him at the zoo today," Linda said.
"You did?" Abby said, relieved, and then she thought of her dream of
the zoo and of Linda standing there and Dr. Gower beside the girl.
Could she be psychic? No, there was a simpler explanation. "I saw you
both there," she went on, smiling, "on television this afternoon."
Linda frowned. "But Dr. Gower didn't arrive until the program was over,
Aunt Abby."
"I saw you," Abby insisted.
"But I'm certain of it."
"You must be mistaken, dear," Abby said in a tone of finality. And that
settled that.
The doorbuzzer sounded, and Gretchen whirred to answer it. Abby pressed
a button beneath the table, and the image of Dr. Gower appeared on a
small screen set invisibly in the opposite wall. She could feel her
blood accelerate at the sight of him, but she wondered why he looked
disturbed.
She rose. "I'm going in to see Dr. Gower, dear," she told Linda. "Now,
don't rush your food."
Linda nodded abstractedly. She wasn't in a rushing mood.
"Abby, how are you?" Dr. Gower said warmly, at her approach.
"Very well, thank you, Tom," Abby said. "I thought I might have to get
sick to see you."
"I was busy," he explained. "The colonization of space brings up a
great many new medical problems. How's Linda?"
"Fine. I'm afraid, she's beginning to have a slight case of puppy love;
I'm sure it can be discouraged in time, though."
Dr. Gower hesitated. Then he said, "Linda's a normal young girl, Abby.
You can't stifle her natural desires forever."
"I not only can, but I will." To cushion the harshness of the
statement, she added, "At least until she's mature enough to decide
these things for herself. She's still a child."
"A great many women get married at eighteen," Dr. Gower pointed out.
"Physically, it's a good age for marriage, and a psychology going
against the physical grain isn't going to help."
"There are such things in life, Dr. Gower," Abby said a bit coldly, "as
moral considerations. We're not animals, you know."
"It might help sometimes," Dr. Gower mused, "if there were a little
more animal in us and a little less so-called human."
Abby found her enthusiasm for seeing Dr. Gower ebbing, being replaced
by what she considered a justified annoyance. Dr. Gower knew her
feeling about Linda. Something seemed to have changed his tactics. She
did not like the change.
"If you don't mind," she said, "I'd like to bring up Linda in my own
way. The courts made me legal guardian of Linda until she's twenty-one,
and I intend to protect her until then to the best of my ability."
"By that time, you'll have her so confused about the world she'll be
defenseless against it. I never said anything before, Abby--"
"And now is a poor time to start!" Abby's voice was like ice. "I'm
sorry, Dr. Gower, but if you persist in talking this way, I'll have
to ask you to leave. Linda is in my charge, and I won't stand for
interference, even from you."
The doctor's shoulders slumped dejectedly. "Do you know why you were
chosen guardian, Abby," he said slowly.
"Of course. I was the nearest relative. Why bring that up?"
Dr. Gower shook his head. "Nothing," he said, after awhile. "Nothing at
all. I came around to say goodbye, Abby."