ISABELLA

“ISABELLA!”

Thomas shouted as he ran out of the house. Running after the taxi as it flew down the driveway. Before he could catch it and stop the love of his life, it went into the clouds and was gone.

He stared at the taxi until it was indistinguishable in the sky. Maybe a little longer. He sighed, resigned to the fact she was gone. But she was so wrong. The entire situation was circumstantial.

He walked into the house and walked into the kitchen. He wanted to get blitzed out of his gord but decided to let it all out. He grabbed a glass of water and walked into the living room.

He settled into his comfortable chair and said in a bit louder voice than usual, “Did I screw up?”

He paused a moment, then continued.

“Before I get too far, let me tell you how this tragic turn of events started.”

“A few weeks ago, I was working on the stations and met an old friend. She was married, and we sat and had coffee and talked for three hours. It was fantastic to see her again and catch up on our lives.”

“What I didn’t know is that the news program was doing a story on the new businesses and shops on the stations, and we ended up on SOLnet as background. Sipping our coffee, talking, laughing. An entire thirty seconds as a pair of background extras during the evening news.”

“I had a few more days left, and after we finished our talk, she headed to her shuttle and home to be with her family, but the damage was already done. Scorched Earth! Her mother called her that night, and she flipped on the news and saw us sitting there in the background talking at a two-person private table.”

Thomas took a sip of water.

“After her shuttle launched for Europe, I went back to my spacious room. I was up there to repair an inconsistency with data connections in a few areas of the station. I mention this because as I walked back to my room, my phone rang, but I was unable to pick up the call. I found one of those mentioned areas.”

“Well, about an hour later, I made it to my room and called Izzy. It went to voicemail. I left a message to call me back and prepped for bed. I fell asleep fast, and in a few hours, my phone rang. It was 3 AM, and I answered it fast because no one calls at 3 AM to chat.”

He shook his head, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes and forehead. Leaning way back in the chair, he continued.

“I answered the call, and it was Izzy. She sounded all happy and cheerful. My brain was not fully in gear yet, and when she asked if I did anything interesting today, my reply was, ‘Not Really.’ We talked for a few more minutes and went back to bed, falling asleep fast.”

“I found the issue with connectivity on the station, a faulty network appliance, and replaced it. Tested the entire station for proper signal strength before I was satisfied it was resolved. The next shuttle was in the morning, 9:40 AM, and I cleaned everything up and headed back to my room. I called Izzy, and she was not as talkative as she normally is when I call. I tried to get an idea of what happened, but she was giving me the cold shoulder.”

Thomas sipped his water again, looking up at the ceiling, wondering what he needed to say next. He was talking to the AI in the house, which is his way of talking to a therapist. Does it work? MEH!

Is it a way to get things off your chest and clear your head? Sure. At first, he resisted, but over the past few years, it has become second nature. The AI does not reply when he talks. It just listens. Listening is a lost skill these days,

“In the morning, I called Izzy again to let her know I would be home in a couple of hours, but it went to voicemail. I figured she was still asleep and told her I would be home around 11:00 AM. I got the station fixed.”

“I had a small breakfast and went to the gate. A little bit later, the seats opened, and I boarded. The flight home was uneventful, and the ride in the taxi to the house seemed like any other. Once I got home, however, I saw that car. His mother’s car. That meant one thing. Her Mom was visiting. That is never a good thing.”

I paid the fare, and the driver flew off. I turned and started toward the front door. MOM walked out and asked, ‘What are you doing here?’ I said that I live here. It is my house.”

“She asked me, ‘So what does that make my daughter?’ My fiancé, I told her. Once we are married, I’ll add her name to the title, and we’ll share our lives. Mom laughed and left the porch, hopped in her car, and took off. I watched her fly away, happy she was gone. She really hates me. Told her daughter she could do better. Izzy needed to be with someone who worshiped her by giving her gifts, someone with a lot of excess money so she could have the lifestyle Mom said she deserved.”

“I hated that. I make a pretty good wage. These last few days on the stations, I have made more than most in a month, but I am the best communications consultant, and they pay me what they can afford. I never turn down an assignment. But at the same time, I never told them my pay scale. I ask them what they think my services are worth, and they always provide a rate that I find acceptable. This was no different.”

“Mom thought I was a PC repair technician. She has no clue what I am or what I do. Or, for that matter, what I make or have in the bank. But I don’t flaunt it. I don’t even own a car. I prefer to have others take me places, and I never have to worry about finding a parking spot or paying to park. Uh-huh, she could do better.”

He resettled in the chair, realizing he was rambling, “OK, back to the story. Mom left, and I went into the house. Izzy was in the living room, seven suitcases packed and ready to leave. She told me she had no reason to return to this low-class house and its resident. It was at that moment I realized FINALLY that she was not interested in me. I was a means to an end. I was her ATM. Mom finally got to her, and she was leaving me.”

“She said the taxi should be here in a few minutes. I looked at her hand, and the ring was gone. Darting my eyes around the room, I saw it on the coffee table. That thing cost me $80,000. I guess Mom never had it appraised. She referred to it as the cute little ring. We heard the taxi land outside, and the driver honked. She gestured to me like I was supposed to carry her luggage to the taxi. I simply stepped aside, making absolutely certain I was not going to lift a finger in service to someone who has no feelings for me, even as a friend.”

He laid his head back on the back of the chair and looked at the ceiling for a long minute. “I did not go outside as she made three trips carrying her bags out to the car, where the driver loaded them in the trunk. When I heard the doors close, I ran out, yelling her name. It took me a while to come back inside, but I realized this was for the better. I’m alone now, I guess, just me and you, Gladyse.”

“Thomas,” The AI replied. It rarely speaks, but this was something monumental, “I think you made the right decision. Take it from me: she was more interested in what you can do for her than being a part of your life.”

“I know. I finally picked up on that even though her mother said it all the time.”

“Thomas, may I send her an anonymous link to your who’s who page? Maybe she will finally understand you are a valued member of the planet.”

“No, Gladyse. It is a great idea, but I think an article that she reads about me in a magazine would be better.”

“I shall work on that for you, Thomas.”

“Well, Gladyse, it’s just me, and…. No more Isabella!”