9. Betty
9
BETTY
H aving done the two dollar tour of our apartment, there was nothing else to do but wait. Proslo showed me how to use the tablet to access the Fleet library and I quickly found several books to read. I added them to my reading app, which to my delight I found would sync to my Kindle once I paired it to the Fleet’s network. I now could go from one device to another, just like I had with my phone, so now I had three things to read my books with. I’d never be caught without something to read as long as everything remained charged and that pleased me to an almost ridiculous degree. The books from the Fleet library were purchases too, so they did not count against my Kindle Unlimited. Though, seeing as I now had free access to absolutely every book from Earth, I no longer needed that subscription.
That thought led me down another rabbit hole. “Are we able to order from Amazon?” I asked. “And can we access Prime, Hulu, and Netflix?”
He glanced up from where he was sitting on the other end of the long sofa, reading something on his tablet which he’d taken from the desk in his home office.
“Sort of,” he confirmed. “The Fleet audiovisual library has free access to your planet’s audio and vid catalogues. Though the latest holiday vid releases are now shown for three weeks in pop up viewing centers for something they call ‘the cinematic experience’.”
“So, I can just use my tablet to watch a movie or a TV show?”
He hummed in affirmation. “Yes, though it is more usual to simply ask Xeranos to play what you wish to watch and have him show it on a wall screen.”
“Like a TV? I have one.”
He grinned. “Similar to one of your portable vid screens, yes.” He turned to look at the wall directly across from us. “Xeranos, please play the next episode of Andy Griffith.”
I don’t know what surprised me the most, the way the wall sort of rippled and the intro to that old show began to play on as if there was an enormous big screen TV there, or the fact that he knew about and apparently enjoyed watching such an old TV show.
“This okay?” he asked me, putting his tablet down on the coffee table.
“Um, yeah, sure.” I knew about this show, yeah, but I had never actually watched it. I glanced down at my tablet longingly for a second, thinking of the Why Choose Romance series I’d always wanted to read but had kept waiting to buy as something else always came up needing my spare cash instead. I hadn’t read a book that wasn’t either free or in Kindle Unlimited in three years thanks to living expenses versus income. Thanks to the Fleet giving me an unlimited book budget, the entire series was now sitting there waiting for me. It would still be there after we watched a couple of episodes, I reminded myself. Plus, if I waited until after the movers left, I could take a soak in that gorgeous tub in the master bedroom’s en suite and relax with my book uninterrupted. I placed my tablet on the table and settled back.
It turned out poor Aunt Bea was a hell of a cook but couldn’t make pickles to save her life. Not and have them be edible, anyway. I’d thought being in black and white, it would be annoying to watch, but again, I found myself pleasantly surprised. After a few moments, my brain stopped fussing over the lack of bright colors and I became invested in what was happening. It was old fashioned, sure, but charming. We watched two more episodes after that, and when we both laughed at the same time when the deputy lost his mind over something ridiculously trivial and Andy had to calm him down while trying to not roll his eyes at him, we both glanced at the other and exchanged small smiles.
This was nice. It was frightening how comfortable it already felt, sitting in a shared apartment with him, watching TV. It was all too easy to imagine us sitting closer, my head leaning against his shoulder. Or that after he was back to work it wasn’t likely to happen all that often. I knew doctors got called all the time. In fact, we’d be lucky if he didn’t get called for at least a phone consult while we were on our honeymoon.
“What’s that frown for?” he asked me, poking the lines between my eyes playfully.
“I was just thinking how nice this feels, doing this here with you right now. Just the two of us, kicking back and watching TV. Then it occurred to me that you probably don’t get time to relax like this too often, being the chief medical officer and all. I know doctors get called a lot about patients.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “I do get called if it’s a patient who requires my special attention, but since we’re in a non combat posting, that does not happen very often. The other medics under my command are exceedingly capable and do not need me to butt into their cases. I do remain on call during my off hours, but that is only in case one of my own patients takes a turn for the worse or one of our top ranking officers or a visiting dignitary needs medical attention.”
“So if, say, the Fleet Commander’s kid gets, I don’t know, appendicitis, they’d call you in on your day off?” That sounded like something that definitely would have a hospital’s chief of surgery called in under similar circumstances.
“I’d be notified and might go in to reassure Commander Gundar and his mate, if I was easily available, yes. I definitely would go in if the Commander was in need of emergency care after a fire on the bridge or something like that. The Fleet medical staff are all highly skilled. I can take time off and be assured that, bar something extreme or politically sensitive, I will not actually have to go in or be disturbed with endless comms.”
“Oh. So, unless there is a huge super duper emergency, you won’t get so much as an email from work then.”
He gave me that hundred megawatt smile of his, showing me his oh so white teeth that were just a little too sharp to be human.
“I will not,” he confirmed. “Instead, I will receive a briefing upon my return about what happened while I was away and our student medics progress reports.”
A doctor with time for family life. Talk about another fantasy ideal being fulfilled.
“I look forward to spending my off duty hours with you and our young when we are granted some.”
Damn, he knew how to hit me right in the feels.
“When I’m home,” I reminded him. “I will have school.”
“You will have assigned course material to complete interactively with Xeranos some days which you will do at home, followed by scheduled days at sickbay for hands-on learning under either myself or one of the chief medics aboard another vessel. Mates are paired with coordinating work schedules to allow for family life.”
“But someone will always need to work the night shift,” I pointed out.
“Those without young or unmated work that rotation.”
“So, if mated, their wife also works that shift.”
“Or husband, yes. Quality of life is of the utmost importance.”
I couldn’t imagine how this would work on a planetary scale, but within a closed community such as the Fleet, I supposed it was doable with a lot of juggling things about. It sounded idyllic, for sure. In fact, I was now wondering if this whole deal was a little too perfect. There had to be imperfections somewhere, surely.
He laughed and I realized to my chagrin that I must have said at least the last part out loud. “Of course there are. While Fleet life is structured for optimum life quality and enjoyment, we are all flawed living beings. Squabbles happen, some find themselves getting into mischief and needing to visit the brig for a while, that sort of thing.”
Oddly enough, that did make me feel better. Though hopefully none of the squabbles were of the same nature as what I’d just left behind. I licked my lips. “What happens if it’s domestic violence?”
His expression immediately became grave. “There is a zero tolerance policy. I won’t deceive you, we do get the occasional case, but thanks to our screening and matching process, I have never heard of any such thing happening between mated Mylos pairs. Such has been confined to the human families living here as part of one of our education and employment programs.”
I nodded, my mouth dry. “Okay.”
He studied my face, searching for signs that I was indeed alright. He didn’t look entirely convinced.
“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.