SOMETIMES, ALISHA COULDN’T believe how well Dorian and Celeste had acclimated to this time period, doing tasks endemic to it. Because of her pregnancy, Celeste had taken the train from Virginia to New York to visit them. Alex was unable to drive her because he’d started work teaching Ethics Studies at a local college. Many good things had come out of his choice of a new profession, like the course he was proposing about society’s ethical responsibility to future generations. The job as professor also gave him more free time to spend with his family than his research work had.
When Alisha told them she’d rented half of a house from David, Celeste and Dorian insisted they go shopping for furniture with her. As they walked through a sprawling store in Brooklyn possessing many goods for a home, they passed a mirror. “Stop,” Celi said.
Alisha and Dorian halted.
“Look at us.”
All three stared into the glass. Alisha had never noticed the difference in their appearances. Dorian was the tallest, most statuesque, with her toned muscles and erect posture. Her dark hair had grown longer, like Celeste’s, and she pulled it off her face in what was displeasingly called a ponytail.
Celeste, willowy and seeming fragile as ever, had pretty auburn hair and slim lines.
Alisha, who matched Celeste’s height and was the sturdiest. There was nothing fragile about her. “Look, Lisha. You’re hair’s getting lighter.” Even in their time, it had been a lighter brown than theirs.
“From that lovely sun above,” Dorian told her. “My color has not changed.”
“Because it’s so dark.” Alisha stared at her own, which she kept clipped to just below her chin. It had lightened. And she hadn’t noticed, probably because she rarely looked in one of these glass things. “Hmm.”
Celeste said, “Yours is very beautiful, multi-colored. We could go to a salon and have the stylist highlight it more. Maddy does that to her hair, though it drives Alex crazy.” She grinned. “I have to sway him.”
They began walking again. “I don’t want to know how you sway him,” Alisha groused with real frustration but deep affection.
“Alisha, earnestly, you have to get yourself a man.”
“I’m fully aware of the fact that I haven’t joined in nearly five months.” She remembered Joe Destino’s dark good looks. “Though I saw a prospect the other day.”
“Not David?” Celeste asked.
“David? Godheads, no. We’re friends.”
“You’re going to be living with him if we ever pick out this furniture.”
Alisha stopped short. “No, I’m renting from him. He’s my landlord.”
Celeste and Dorian exchanged glances. Celeste asked, “Do you know the term?”
“Nope. You?”
“I think it comes from ancient times,” Alisha explained, “when the royalty provided housing for their servants.”
“Can you imagine having servants?” Celeste asked dreamily.
Angling her chin, Alisha said, “You have them, Celi.”
“I do not.”
“You have cleaners of your house in Virginia.”
“Alex insisted. I can certainly do it myself.” She put her hand on her stomach. “Though even the green cleaning products could be unhealthful for the baby.”
Whenever she mentioned the child, Celeste’s eyes teared with joy. Alisha felt warmth and weakness spread through her, too. They had not forgotten the awesome miracle of one of them being with child.
They started walking again and stopped at two couches in a green called sage. Alisha touched the material. “I like this color.”
“Me, too.” Dorian fingered the price tag, though money still wasn’t an issue. Their stash of diamonds had hardly been dented. “Oh, wow! Lisha, look. The tag says this is a new kind of sofa. The cushions are made to conform to the body. They actually use the word.”
For some reason, that disturbed Alisha. It meant that society was well on track to build the furniture of the future, which literally conformed to the user’s shape. What if they hadn’t changed the bad parts?
Celeste touched her. “What’s wrong?”
She told them her concern.
Dorian shook her head. “I still hold that time is a continuum and threaded with streams. If you pull out one, the others remain the same. We should be seeing signs of the development of some parts of the future we knew.”
“I suppose.”
“Let’s concentrate on shopping,” Celeste suggested. “If you get these couches, an accent chair and a rug for the big room in the front, all you’ll need is a video box.”
Alisha frowned. “I am not purchasing one of those.”
Celeste asked, “Why? We have two.”
“I don’t need one. I can get all my information off my computer and computeller.”
“All right. Then, on to the bedroom furniture.” Celeste winked at Dorian. “We’ll find a wonderful bed to join on.”
“Ha! If that ever happens.”
After three hours, they’d chosen enough furniture for the house and some for the outdoor patio. Celeste insisted they visit another store to buy accouterments for the kitchen, even though Alisha balked. She was still using the supplements, though those had dwindled dramatically. She partook of real food with others—the blandest she could find—but she never cooked when she was alone. Still, the concept of creating meals wasn’t unappealing.
After the last purchases, Alisha put a halt to the shopping. “I’m done with this conspicuous consumption for today. Nord, people really don’t need this stuff nor as much space as I have.”
“Then why’d you move in there?”
“Because I need independence and solitude. Not things.”
“Won’t you be lonely?” Celeste asked.
“No, of course not. Though I want to find some life’s work soon.”
It was one of the first times that Alisha had lied to her friends.
o0o
DAVID’S DEN WAS located in the front of the house, next to his door to the duplex. At his computer, he reworked the church finances once again. There simply wasn’t room in this year’s budget for computers for the youth. Turning, he faced the picture of God on his wall. Silvery, in the vague pattern of a starburst, he’d known what the image was when he saw the painting in the art store. To him, the lightness, the way the paint shimmered, the feeling it evoked was a perfect representation of God. “So, what am I going to do?”
No answer of course. In words.
“I know, I know. You’ll provide.”
He was distracted by a truck pulling into the driveway. Beck’s Furniture. Behind it was Alisha’s Prius. She’d gone furniture shopping with Celeste and Dorian, and they must have arranged same-day delivery. He glanced at the framed picture. “I know I already thanked you for this, but I’m grateful she moved in here.” Not stopping to examine why, he rose and made his way to the foyer. He opened his door just as the Sisters of Doom came to the porch. “Hi, there. Looks like a successful trip.”
Celeste and Dorian had already stopped by his half of the house to say hello before they went shopping, so Celeste chattered on about their purchases, something about the couches conforming, but David was watching Alisha as she stuck her key in the lock.
“Why the scowl?” he asked her as her door swung open.
“This is too much furniture.” She waved to the inside. “The space is too much.”
Without thinking, he grasped her arm and leaned in. “Try to enjoy what you have. It is what it is.”
She held his gaze, then nodded. That he could influence her, make her feel better pleased him. Mostly, she was too grim. He liked to think he gave her optimism or caused her to be more cheerful.
The movers struggled up the walk with a pretty green couch. David asked, “Mind if I come in and see everything?”
“Sure, you can help us arrange it.” This from Dorian who took his hand and drew him inside.
They spent an hour deciding the arrangement of the pieces in the great room—with David taking Celeste’s place in moving things around. When they were done, Celeste dropped down on one of the couches. “I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything.”
Dorian crossed to her. “My cue to get you home.” She turned to Alisha. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay? Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m exhausted, too, and need to rest.”
David said, “I’ll help with anything that’s left to do.”
“Don’t you have to work today?” Alisha asked.
“Friday is most preachers’ day off.”
“I’m staying until Sunday,” Celeste announced on their way out. “I’ll be at services.”
“Me, too.” Dorian and Luke had begun attending his church. Though Dorian had confided in him that she didn’t really believe in this religious jumbo mumbo, Luke did and he liked to go.
“Don’t look at me,” Alisha said. “I’m not coming.”
David just nodded.
When he returned from walking the women out to Dorian’s car—funny how all three had learned to drive—he found Alisha, arms folded across her chest, staring at the room. “If it’s any consolation, this is barely enough furniture in here.”
She faced him. “You know what? I’m going to try to just enjoy it, like you said.”
“That’s my girl.” He scanned the room. “You do need to decorate your walls.”
“The walls? Why?”
“The room will be more pleasant.”
She rolled her eyes. “The out of inside coming in is enough for me.”
“Then you’ll like this. I have a housewarming present for you.”
“I have heat and the beautiful stone place to build fire, though the notion frightens me.”
He chuckled. “A housewarming gift is something a person needs when she moves into a new home.”
She flopped down onto a chair. “There cannot possibly be one more thing I need. We bought bedding, linen, dishes and disposable products that I abhor purchasing, but I have no choice in stocking the bathing room.”
“You’ll like this, I guarantee.”
He left her front door open and entered his side of the house. Retrieving the gift, to which he’d attached a big red bow, he brought the unwieldy present into her foyer.
When she caught sight of it, her mouth dropped. She stood and rushed to him. “Oh, David, I love it. I wanted one.”
“I guessed you would.”
She frowned. “But I don’t know how to ride a bicycle.”
“Want to learn?”
“Now?”
“Unless you’re too tired.”
“Suddenly I have immense energy. Let me put sneakers on.” She turned. “Do you have one of these?”
“Uh-huh. I thought we could go riding as soon as you learn how.”
Instead of frowning, as she often did when he suggested an activity that would bring them together socially, a huge grin spread across her face. And before she went to change, she gave him a hug—very rare for her to initiate—then left the room to get her shoes.
David shook his head. The woman had enough diamonds to buy an island, had a medical device to cure most ills and had changed the course of history, to boot, but what delighted her today was one little bike.
As he stared after her, he smiled. He very much liked peeling back the layers of Alisha Law.
o0o
ALISHA KNEW SHE was acting like a youngling about the bicycle, but as she’d told David, as soon as she’d seen the devices in action on the street, she’d coveted one. But their tasks had taken precedence over such a silly indulgence. Maybe not so silly; it was practical. Though it was unusable for long trips, she could ride it to fetch groceries, visit nearby shops and enjoy the weather, all without harming the environment. Several times she’d wondered why more people didn’t choose the non-motorized device as a method of transportation.
“We’ll start out back,” David told her.
He wheeled the bike through her kitchen and out sliding doors of glass, over the stones of the patio, onto the grass. The sun was low but still warm, and there was a slight flutter of breeze—which messed David’s hair…nicely.
“You don’t ride a bicycle on the grass.”
“Nope. But this is where you learn how to ride one. He parked the bike and jogged to the glassed-in porch off his side, which she still hadn’t seen. He returned with a hat of some kind. “What is that?”
“A helmet.”
She pointed to the other things he carried. “What are those?”
“Knee pads. You need them both to ride.”
“I won’t fall off.”
“I wear a helmet.”
“No knee pads?”
“Nope. You can forego those when you get the hang of riding.” He nodded to one of the chairs she and Dorian and Celeste had purchased today, along with a round table and pretty striped umbrella of blues and greens. “Sit.” He held up the pads. “I’ll put these on you.”
She frowned. “Don’t they just slide on?”
“I want to make sure they’re adjusted right.” He winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t get fresh.”
“Fresh?”
“An old-fashioned word for feeling you up.”
She raised her brows.
“Touching you intimately.”
Suddenly, at the thought of David touching her intimately, she felt warm. Stirred. She dropped down onto the chair and he knelt in front of her. She’d been too long without the SexLine if a mere suggestion of touching from this man made her blood heat. He set her foot on his thigh, took off her sneaker, slid the pad up her leg and to her knee. To prevent a shiver from his hand gliding over her skin, she said, “Oh, that was hard.”
“Hush.” He placed her foot inside her shoe and tied it up. The action seemed…sensuous. Then he repeated the process on the other leg, and that was even more so. When she stood, she grabbed on to his shoulder for balance.
“Feel okay?”
His hands on her felt great. “Um, yes.”
They approached the bike. “This is an Electra Gypsy 3i women's cruiser bike, made for neighborhood riding. I didn’t get you a racing bike because there’s nowhere to ride it around here. You’d have to drive in the car to get to trails. This way you can enjoy the bike every day.”
“I love the one you chose, though I don’t even know what a racing bike is.” She had her hand on the bars and rubbed the metal, liking its smooth steel texture.
“I also didn’t get the pink one.”
“Too girly for me?”
“Nah, you’re plenty girly. I thought you’d like something more demure.”
“As I said, I love the one you purchased. Come on, show me.”
Approaching the bike, he pulled a lever and adjusted the seat to its lowest point. “You’ll need the seat higher to ride, but we start out this way so your feet touch the ground.” He bent down. “Now I have to take the pedals off.”
“You ride without pedals?”
“Again, no, but you learn without them.”
When he knelt, she noticed that, like hers, his hair had been lightened by the sun, tinting the curls with multiple shades. He made quick work of removing the pedals, then stood.
“All right. Now swing your leg through the opening and sit on the seat.”
She sat. “Ouch. It’s hard.”
“When you’re used to conformers, I’m sure it is. We can get a cover to pad it.” He pointed in front of them. “The yard slopes here, so you can practice balance. Hold on tight to the handle bars, push with your feet, then lift them off the ground. Concentrate on keeping the wheels straight and your body balanced on the seat.”
She pushed off the ground, the bike went forward and rolled down the incline. Fiercely concentrating on her balance, she went several yards before it stopped of its own volition.
David clapped. “Yay!” He looked like a little boy.
Secretly pleased with the tiny achievement, she bounced off the bike and wheeled it back up to him. “What’s next?”
“The same thing, ten times.”
“Why? I achieved the correct ride right away.”
“This isn’t a competition. The video I watched said ten times, so we do ten times.”
“You’ve never taught anyone to ride a bike before?” she asked.
“Can’t say that I have.”
After five more repetitions, she sighed loudly in frustration. “Please, David, let’s go to step two.”
“I guess. The last five times, you can use the brakes. He demonstrated how the three gears worked.
She nailed that on the first time, too, but he made her complete more practices.
Feigning frustration when she insisted they proceed, he knelt down and anchored the pedals back on. Then he stood. “Stand between the pedals.”
“Why?”
“For this part, we have to adjust the seat. If you sat this low, pedaling would be exhausting.”
Climbing between the front and back of the bike, she stood with her legs straddling the space. He eyed the distance, then moved the lever. “Try to sit.”
She did, holding on to his shoulder for balance. “It needs to be a bit higher, I think.” She sounded breathless, but his hand was very close to being fresh when it accidentally brushed her derriere. Her mind started to spin out a fantasy of more, but she stopped it cold.
“Put the pedal at two o’clock.” His voice was a little hoarse. “Place a foot on the right one—”
Having gotten the gist, she started off before he finished his instructions. Both feet on the pedals, she moved them in a cyclical fashion.
The rest, as they said in this time period, was a piece of cake. They walked to flat ground; she pedaled without a miss. He taught her how to stand and pedal faster. “That might have been a mistake,” he called out when she rode too quickly on the next run and crashed into a bush. He laughed as she picked herself up. She was laughing, too, feeling carefree and young. “I’m ready for the road.”
“The sidewalk, maybe.” When she went back to him, he chucked her under the chin. “You look cute in that helmet, by the way.”
Out front on the concrete pavement, she went slowly a ways, twice. The third time, she pedaled faster and farther. When she returned, she knew her face was animated. “David, this is so much fun. Thank you for purchasing the bike for me.”
“And you can do it anytime you want.” He grabbed her hand. “Promise me you won’t go off the sidewalk until I can go with you.”
“I promise. Can we do it now?” His stomach growled. “Oh, you’re hungry.”
“Yes. Contrary to you, I have to eat real food.”
“I’ve been eating more of your real food. The supplements are running out.”
“What have you eaten?”
“Some animal products for protein.” She cocked her head. “And I like your potatoes.”
“How about you join me for chicken cooked on the grill. I have potatoes and a vegetable.”
“Which one?”
“Broccoli.”
“I like broccoli. I’m not fond of brussel sprouts.”
“Honey,” he said hooking his arm around her shoulder. “Nobody is.”