Chapter 30
LETICIA
ROBOT VACUUM WAR?
“Okay, I’m apologizing in advance.” Royal winces as he looks back at me. He holds the door to the house partially open behind him.
“Apologize for what?” I squint at him and lean, trying to see past him into the house.
“My parents.” He scrubs a hand down his face and pushes the door open. “Mom, Dad, I’m home. I brought Leticia D’Medici, please don’t be weird.”
“No! Go back! Dammit, turn around!” a feminine voice calls from deeper in the house.
Royal takes my coat and hangs it on a hook by the door next to his and then continues into the house. His shoes are still on, so I leave my booties on and follow him from where we came in through the garage.
I stop walking, but Royal doesn’t.
“Get ’em! That’s it, you’ve got her on the run!” a masculine voice responds.
Down a small hallway, we’re in the central part of the home.
It’s chaos. The kitchen to the left has a blue couch pushed up against the opening, blocking both the hallway and an entry into a living room.
Brown living room recliner-type chairs are tucked in at the kitchen table, and there are end tables in the kitchen itself.
What on earth? As we get closer, I hear the whirr of at least one vacuum cleaner as it rolls across a hard surface floor.
Royal steps over the sofa, where it blocks the path, and looks into the living room. “So much for not being weird.”
Trying to be respectful, I lean forward but can’t see beyond the couch and around the wall. I kneel on the sofa’s arm, keeping my booties off the upholstery, and finally get a view.
Betty and Ian Cavanagh are standing on the raised fireplace hearth, and two robot vacuum cleaners, modified with big knives and three balloons attached to each, are driving around the living room.
“You couldn’t have waited until I got home?
I was barely gone for three hours.” Royal talks to his parents, but they don’t answer.
Instead, he looks over at me. “Sorry. They’re on this whole ‘I can do anything better than you’ kick, and they’ve already made it past the more normal challenges like butchering chickens, field dressing rabbits, assembling rifles, and running a 5k. ”
“Naturally.” I shake my head, pretending that what he said was even remotely normal.
A pop draws my attention back to the robot vacuum cleaners as they circle each other. One of the vacuums now only has two green balloons.
“Aha! First blood,” Betty cheers. Her green sweater sleeves are rolled up, and the buttons down the front hang open to reveal a petite autumn leaf–patterned shirt tucked into her blue jeans.
The robot vacuums start driving away from each other as they auto cycle to clean the floor.
“How’s it going, dear?” Betty waves over to me. “I heard you got left behind for Christmas.”
“Oh, I’m well. Thank you for having me,” I call back with a small wave.
“We don’t have to watch this if you don’t want.” Royal offers, but his eyes drift from me back to the vacuums.
“This is good. Just let me take my shoes off.” I smile and turn around on the arm to unzip my booties so that I can get a better vantage point.
When I get back up, the vacuums are circling each other again. Betty’s vacuum, with blue balloons, looks like it’s going to take out another one of Ian’s green ones.
“No, go the other way.” Ian coaches the bot, gesturing with his hands in a big sweeping motion for it to turn around.
He’s wearing a matching green long-sleeved polo shirt with the sleeves pushed up. Almost like he and Betty coordinated outfits this morning.
“Your parents are so much fun,” I whisper to Royal. There’s no fighting the smile that grows on my face.
I can’t even remember the last time Mom made a real laughing noise, not the ones she uses for polite society company. And Dad’s never had fun a single day in his life, not even when we were children would he play games with us.
“Fun is one word for it.” Royal rolls his eyes. “They’re weirdos, but they’re my weirdos.”
I watch on, more invested in how Ian and Betty interact with each other, their lighthearted jostling and joking. And I notice that Royal and his dad share the same nose, but he has more of Betty’s smile.
Ten minutes in, Betty’s bot takes out another of Ian’s balloons before his vacuum dares to come close to popping one of hers.
Even though it’s a friendly competition, the way they’re egging each other on is so full of love. Betty ribs him and makes a joke about slowing down in his old age, but she does so while squeezing his hand tight like she never wants to let go.
And twenty minutes later, Ian is cheering on Betty’s vacuum as it pops the last of his balloons.
I want a love like that.
Royal is watching his parents and the vacuums as they keep running around the floor space. I lean against him just a little, and he looks over at me.
He looks at me the way Ian looks at Betty. Butterflies swarm in my stomach.
Could I have a love like that?