Chapter 9: Time Stands Still in the Country
Something in the early morning hours roused Toaster from her deep sleep; something beckoning to her sweetly. Ignoring the form of the weary man beside her, she rose from the bed and moved languidly along the floor, reaching for the door.
She opened it to a wide meadow decked out in lilies and daisies, the sun caressing each one with its wide rays. Animals leaped about and played, hardly seeming to notice her as she walked amongst them.
"Toaster." She smiled at the sound of her name, and turned to see Blanky hugging up little mice. Radio and Lampy danced nearby with a family of squirrels. But where was Kirby…?
There he was, still by the rolling chair. Robbie was on his shoulders as he knelt down by the battery, his hands moving clumsily. His mouth moved, and though she couldn't hear him, she knew he was muttering about how low it was and how far they still had to go to find Rob.
Master. Not Rob. Master.
A chill blew. She hugged herself as a shadow fell, and looked up to see if it was raining. It wouldn't harm her if she wasn't plugged in to the battery, she told herself. It wouldn't harm her if she stayed unplugged…
"But you are unplugged," the voice called again, soft and mournful.
Then Toaster was surrounded by thick bushes, and she could see that the shade came from an oak tree far off by itself.
There, just at her feet, was a single, wilting lily.
"I remember," Toaster said, kneeling and holding out her hands to cup it. "I remember you here by yourself. You looked at me and thought I was another flower."
"But I can't see myself now," the lily said, dying before Toaster's eyes. "There's no reflection in you anymore. Just time and death. Time and death." The last petal fell, crumpling to dust in Toaster's hands.
Time and death…
As the dream faded, Toaster stirred to find herself lying on her back, Kirby's asleep on top of her. His head rested against her bosom, and his arms were wrapped loosely around her; the exact same position he had been in when he collapsed on top of her. Contentedly, she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling his chest rise and fall against her.
The dream pounded through her consciousness, but by the time Kirby woke, ready to have another go with her, it was completely forgotten.
After a brief morning treating a sneezing ferret, Toaster helped Rob lock up the clinic so he could be on his way to the bus stop. The time had finally come for Rob's cast to come off, and he couldn't have been happier about it.
"Off and good riddance!" Rob explained, livelier than Toaster had seen him in a long time. "Goodbye to bad rubbish!"
"So much for never throwing anything away!" Toaster giggled.
"I never said I was a saint," Rob informed her without remorse. "Even I know some things can't be saved!" He whistled some tune as they made their way back to the house, pausing briefly outside the back door to take Toaster by the hand and twirl her around.
"Better knock it off before you break your other arm!" she warned him through her laughter.
"I'll never break another bone for as long as I live," he protested.
Per their arrangement, Chris was leaving work to meet him at the hospital. Once the appointment was over, the two would be meeting her coworker to purchase the van. It had been well used, but even Chris agreed that it was just what their family needed just then.
"It's all working out," Rob kept saying as he got himself ready for the appointment. "It's all working out."
As happy as she was for him, Toaster couldn't help casting looks to the junk drawer. It wasn't hard to see that Kirby was doing the same.
When Rob was ready, Toaster and Kirby saw him off to the bus stop, waving to him from the porch. Little Robbie leaned over the porch railing, chirping, "Bye! Bye! Bye!" until Rob was well out of sight.
"What now?" Toaster asked, as Kirby put Robbie up on his shoulders.
"Whadya mean what now?" Kirby winced as the toddler tugged his hair.
"We have the house to ourselves!" Toaster said. "Shouldn't we do something?"
Kirby cocked an eye at her. "You mean, shouldn't we experience something?"
She could see his amusement. "Well, shouldn't we?"
"Depends on what you have in mind."
"I don't know. We could go to the pond…we could climb trees…" None of that appeared to interest Kirby. She wracked her mind. "We could make something…"
"We could cook something," Kirby suddenly suggested, sounding nonchalant.
"Cook something?" Toaster couldn't believe it. "You mean, you and me?"
"Why not? There's still recipes I haven't tried." He kissed her hand. "Got any suggestions?"
"Just one." Toaster knew exactly what she wanted to make
While Robbie chimed in from his highchair, Kirby helped her measure and stir pancake batter, and dip spoonful after spoonful onto an evenly greased pan. Toaster's heart soared as she watched the golden batter bubble and brown. Kirby's hands guided hers as he directed her to, slowly, test each one with a spatula. She concentrated as hard as she could, willing herself to get them right this time.
Kirby made concentrating difficult, however, as he pressed himself firmly against her back and massaged her hips.
"Kirby, don't!" she begged when he sucked her neck. "I'm going to burn them again!"
"I still can't believe you burned them the first time." He chuckled into her hair. "You were a toaster!"
Toaster scowled at him. "Toast and pancakes are entirely different."
"You're telling me."
"How about you both cut it out?" Ratso grumbled from nearby. "You're making me sick!"
"In that case," Toaster replied, sweetly, "no pancakes for you."
"Too rough on a weak stomach," Kirby agreed.
"Oh, brother! Give a rat a break!" He dove under his newspaper clippings, leaving the two laughing. "Listen, when you two stop playing lovey-dovey, you think you can spare a moment?"
"Why? Is something wrong?" Toaster proudly lifted each golden cake to the platter Kirby held out for her.
"Not really. The hearing aids have a theory…"
"Really?" Kirby stopped short of putting the platter on the table. "What did they say?"
Sheepishly, Ratso held out his hands. "I didn't really catch all of it. Something about cells and DNA regenerates and…" He trailed off at her look. "Well, I'm not stupid! It's just not my forte."
"Some messenger you are," Kirby retorted.
"Look, I'm only trying to help youse out." Ratso sullenly crossed his arms and turned his back on them. "I'll quit passing messages, and then we'll see whose complaining."
"Never mind, Ratso." Toaster tried to soothe him. "We appreciate everything you've done for us. We never would have been able to do this without you. Right, Kirby?"
Kirby snorted.
"Please keep going."
"Fine." Ratso scratched at his ear as he turned around again, but even that gesture didn't hide his embarrassment from the praise. "Anyways, like I was saying, they finally think they got something. But they need more samples from you to test it out."
"More hair?"
"More like spit, I think. They said to use a cotton swab on your cheek. " Ratso hooked a finger on the inside of his cheek to demonstrate. "End swick it ento a contawner."
"When?"
Ratso popped his finger out "Oh, in a couple years. You know, whenever you're ready to quit playing house together."
"Knock it off," Kirby demanded, cutting Robbie's pancakes.
"Hey, Toaster's the one acting dumb. You want to get this over with, don't you?"
"Of course, we do!" Kirby thundered. He hesitated though, looking at Toaster. "But, uh, where do we get the cotton swabs?
"From the clinic," Toaster said, before Ratso could answer. "Rob keeps an extra key in his desk. I'll get it." Kirby's hand on her arm stopped her.
"After breakfast," he insisted, handing her a plate piled with pancakes dripping syrup and butter.
Toaster smiled, and joined him at the table.
While Robbie ran about in the waiting room, Kirby sat on Rob's swivel chair in the surgery. He glanced around nervously, taking in the sight of surgery tools, well-worn veterinary textbooks, and various other such equipment that signaled a well- kept clinic. He'd only been out there once since it had been established, but could barely recall any details worth remembering. It had just been another human place where he had no real purpose. Even now, he couldn't help feeling like an intruder.
It was a marvel, then to watch Toaster move so purposefully around the room, selecting drawers and cabinets with a familiar precision.
"So," he said, wondering how she could be so at ease, "This is where you spend your time."
"Mm hm." Toaster set small sample containers on the counter beside him.
"You sure know your way around." He cautiously touched a container of gloves. "Do you actually have to use all these things?"
"Sometimes. I haven't used everything just yet, but Rob promised to show me. He's a good teacher." She swabbed the inside of her cheek with a cotton swab and stuck the sample deftly into one of the container. "Okay, your turn." She stood in front of him with a second cotton swab.
"How are we going to explain the stuff missing?" Kirby asked, shying away.
"He won't notice. He buys everything in bulk. Now, come on. It won't hurt." Toaster held his chin firmly. Kirby relented to having his cheek swabbed.
"Think it will be enough?" he asked, dubious eyeing the sample as she placed it in a container. It seemed inadequate to him.
She paused, considering. "I suppose." Her gaze drifted to a drawer. "But better safe than sorry, right?" As Kirby watched, she pulled out what looked like a microscope slide and a small, sharp needle.
Kirby sucked in a breath as she aimed the needle at her middle finger. "You're not going to do that on yourself, are you?"
"Just my finger. It'll be quick."
"You'll hurt yourself," he protested, rising from the seat.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." Without another word, she pricked her finger. Kirby's stomach turned over as a dot of blood bubbled up. She carefully smeared it on the slide.
"There! That should be plenty for them to work with." She shot a glance at him. "Hey, are you alright?"
"Of course," he muttered, trying to hide his nausea. "You don't…you don't think they'll want my blood, too?"
Toaster patted his leg as he put the samples into a plastic bag. "I think they'll get by with mine.
"Thank goodness." Even as the nausea passed, he couldn't help feeling proud of Toaster's confidence. She was so at ease in the clinic, so certain of herself and everything else. Perhaps she was right in this notion of experiences…
"Pawk!" Kirby's thoughts were interrupted by Robbie bounding into the surgery and throwing his arms around Kirby's leg. "Pawk! Pawk! Pwease?" Robbie's blue eyes shone.
"That's right." Kirby patted his head. "We better get going." He looked up at the Toaster, though, as a new thought entered his mind.
"Don't worry about me," Toaster quickly said, reading his dubiousness. "I'll go give these samples to Ratso, and then I'm coming straight back out here to clean up. I promised Rob I'd have the units scrubbed down before he got back."
"Right now?" Kirby eyed her, as he lingered to let her lock up behind them.
"Better sooner than later." She brushed hair behind her ear. "Why?"
"Nothing." Kirby cleared his throat. "I just thought, maybe, you'd like to come to the park."
Toaster's eyes lit up. "Really? You really want me to come?"
"Yes, well, why not?" Kirby had to slow his pace for Toaster to keep up with him. "You wanted to do something different. Going to the park would be a change." He cleared his throat to keep the smile from crossing his face. "On second thought, you might be too busy for a new experience, what with cleaning the clinic and sitting in the house all by yourself all afternoon…"
"Kirby." Toaster laughed. "Are you teasing me?"
"…A bit." He grinned down at her as he held the door open.
"I'd love to come! Just let me give these to Ratso!" She hurried inside. He heard her speaking in a hurried tone to Ratso as he readied Robbie's stroller.
"Okay." Toaster was breathless as she came back. Her hands brushed the curls from her forehead. "Do I need to bring anything?"
"Just a smile."
"Done!" A cheery one was already residing on her face. "Let's go!"
An unusual breeze caught them as they walked down the road. Kirby, wondering when August had gotten so chilly, remembered that September was already around the corner. When had time gone by so fast? Robbie bounced with glee in his stroller, urging Kirby on with his shouts. Toaster's excitement matched his, with the way she bounced at Kirby's side. Kirby found himself thoroughly enjoying the walk more than he ever had.
Then, the park came into view, and with it the usual mothers and babysitters who normally swarmed with their broods. Kirby's shoulders stiffened as familiar heads swung in his direction, and felt his stomach doing loops as eyes darted to Toaster at his side, hugging his arm.
Oh, boy…Why hadn't he thought of that before? He hesitated, just at the edge of the curb, looking down uncertainly at Toaster. Of course the mothers would be nosy. How could he have forgotten that? Toaster, oblivious to the danger before her, returned his look with a quizzical one.
"Are those your friends?" she asked, pointing towards them.
"That's them, alright." Although he was starting to wonder if he could actually count them as friends.
"They look wonderful!" Toaster exclaimed. She shielded her eyes in the sun. "Which one is Mary?"
"The one with the baby." And the too-excited look on her face. Kirby had half a mind to turn tail and flee, but the ladies were already making a beeline in their direction.
"Hey, big fella! You're here early!" Colette called through cupped hands as they approached.
Kirby only nodded as he unbuckled Robbie from the stroller and let him tumble across the wood clippings to the slide.
"Early morning. Not a lot of work," he mumbled, focused on untangling the seatbelt straps
"And you brought a friend!" Judy's voice dripped with honey above his head.
"John, sweetie, aren't you going to introduce us?" Mary asked.
Kirby straightened up from the stroller, looking to find all three scrutinizing a beaming Toaster. Before he could say anything (or even think of anything to say), Toaster flung both arms around Mary and baby Sam, "Hello, Mary! It's so nice to finally meet you!"
"Finally?" Mary gathered herself fast and freed an arm to embrace Toaster.
"Kirby has told me everything about you!" Toaster explained.
"Oh, he has, has?" Kirby winced as Mary's eyebrows shot up and she cast an amused look. "Names, description and everything, huh? Well, well, well." And, uh, what's your name, dear?"
"I'm Toa…Thea." Kirby sighed at how quickly Toaster caught herself. He still found it difficult to respond to being called John.
"Thea. What a unique name." Judy seized Toaster's hand and pumped it with all her might. "Judy. It's funny, but John's never mentioned you."
"He hasn't?" Toaster looked at him curiously. Kirby cursed inwardly as he took his time straightening up from the stroller.
"I just never got around to it, that's all," he muttered.
"Oh, sure." Mary nodded her head in mock agreement. "I'm sure, given the proper amount of time…"
"And encouragement!" Colette elbowed him pointedly.
"…He would have mentioned his lovely lady friend to us. Eventually."
"So." Judy butted in. "Tell us about yourself, Thea! Do you live nearby?"
"Oh, yes! Kirby and I live in the McGroarty house just down the road."
Judy's eyes seemed to pop out of her head. "So you two live together?"
"My, my, my." Mary's smile was much too big.
Kirby's ears inflamed under the teasing, causing their laughter to peal. Even Toaster joined in, though she didn't seem to grasp what so funny. As the pack swept Toaster off to one of the benches, asking question after question, he could only follow along helpless, wondering what in goodness' name there was to be embarrassed about. Robbie called out from the swings, giving Kirby just the escape he needed. As he pushed Robbie's swing back and forth, he glanced back to be sure Toaster was fine.
There she sat, in the midst of the group, beaming and friendly; blissfully untouched by their teasing questions. At some point, she said something to Colette which sent them all into laughing fits.
"John, your girlfriend is a sweetheart!" Mary exclaimed, bringing Sam to the baby swings when he fussed. "Seriously, why didn't you ever mention her before, you Casanova?"
Girlfriend. "Oh, I don't know," he muttered, suddenly struck by the word. Girlfriend? Chris had been Rob's girlfriend…some time ago, anyway. He knew it meant closeness, relationship that no one else shared. He studied Toaster, watching the way she tilted her head to one side and flung it back when she laughed. A girlfriend.
His girlfriend?
"Don't be so embarrassed! We're just giving you a hard time." Mary rested her hand on his shoulder. "We're happy for you!"
"You are?"
"Not everyone is lucky enough to find someone. And you have definitely got a keeper." Mary's eyes sparkled. "I don't think I've ever seen you look so smitten before."
That startled Kirby. Did he look at Toaster differently?
Toaster was glowing by the time they left the park.
"It was wonderful!" she exclaimed, when they returned to the house an hour later. "They were wonderful!"
"Yeah, well, they're always loud," Kirby remarked, as she held open the front door for him.
"They sure liked you."
"Yeah, well." He busied himself with putting away the stroller. "They've got good taste." Mary's comments remark to himself, though it still played over and over each time he looked at Toaster. "They liked you, too," he added, gruffly.
"They did?" Toaster flushed with pleasure. "I'm so glad!"
"So am I," he added quietly to himself. He recalled the praises from the women at the park, and the way Toaster's eyes had shined when they looked up at him. He tried to block back the pleasure and concentrate on spot cleaning, but somehow he couldn't help basking in the approval.
"Hey, press that button," he said, noting the flashing light on the answering machine.
"Please and thank you." Toaster teased as she pushed the button. "I'll be back down," she added, heading upstairs as the answering machine clicked.
"Hey, Thea, John. It's Rob. Just wanted to let you know that the appointment is over, and my arm is as good as new."
"Almost," Chris chimed in, her voice from a distance.
"Anyway, we're going to have lunch in town before we pick up the van, but we should be back in time for dinner. We'll see you later."
Kirby glanced at the clock on the stove as the message ended, considering the time. A little more time to themselves? Perhaps he could persuade Toaster to put off the clinic a little while longer and practice more cooking.
"What would she like?' he mused, taking up the cook book. Chris had bought some salmon for him to try, as he was studying the fish section of the book. It was too heavy for lunch, but a little early dinner preparation wouldn't hurt anyone.
He swung to the stairwell, preparing to call up at her, when the machine clicked three more times.
"Hiya, fellas." He caught his breath at the familiar voice. He turned, half expecting to find the dial face right behind him. "Long time no talk. Things being what they are, we thought we'd try a direct approach."
"Say hi for me!" Lampy's voice butted in.
"Hi, Toaster! Hi, Kirby!" a tiny voice piped up.
"Don't push me, you guys!" Radio fought. "Anyway, we just wanted to say hold on tight. Looks like the junk drawer guys might be on to something at last! Keep your seat belts buckled!"
"Don't let Toaster get hurt again!" Lampy interrupted.
The machine clicked off, but the voices rang in Kirby's ears. Odd how nostalgic he become, remembering. Who knew that he would miss those blockheads so much?
Toaster thundered down the stairs.
"Watch it!" he warned, as she landed on the last step and all but leaped at him. He caught her, and found himself swinging her around to keep from losing his balance.
"Who was on the phone?" she asked.
"Rob," he said, easily enough. "They won't be back until dinner."
"Oh? Was that it? I thought I heard two messages."
"I was going to salmon cakes for dinner. You want to help?" He interrupted her reply with a kiss, as he carried her into the kitchen.
He didn't do anything wrong, after all. They hadn't found anything. There was no reason to tell her that their friends still had nothing to offer them.
Toaster mused over the park as she cleaned up the clinic. It surprised her that Kirby, grumpy and loner as he had been, had made friends in such a short time. Perhaps that was part of being human, though; neither could avoid contact with anyone.
She was such an old hand at the work that she barely had to refer to Rob's chart. She had memorized the place not simply from familiarity, but affection as well.
She ran the dust rag over the tops of the books, then followed with a finger. Cautiously, she tipped the book out and opened it to a random page. Toaster paused to study the figure the offered on the next page. Wouldn't Rob be pleased to find that she knew so much? Then, when she was a toaster again…
Time and death. She stopped as the words crossed her mind. Where had those come from?
Slowly, she pushed the book back into its place and turned back to her task, almost regretfully. What was the point of learning veterinary medicine? She wasn't going to need it when she became a toaster again. If the hearing aids finally had a theory, then there wasn't much reason to read any further.
Time and death.
She carried that ominous feeling into the house, only to be met by an even heavier sensation. Robbie was eating his strawberries and cherry tomatoes with gusto, ignorant of the way the former vacuum leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
Ratso looked deeply uncomfortable as he clasped the bars of his unit with both hands.
"What's wrong?" she asked, glancing from one to another.
"They got the test results back," Ratso said.
"Already?" Toaster's breath caught, and her heart started an odd thud that pounded through her ears.
"They got in touch with Wittengenstein while youse guys were out. Apparently, their theory…well, guess they ain't so smart after all."
"Oh?" Toaster couldn't tell if that was bad news or good news. "What did he say?" She posed the question to Ratso, but watched Kirby's face for his reaction. The lines under his eyes had grown deeper, making him look weary.
"…That it's impossible," Ratso announced.
"What?"
Kirby's expression didn't change.
"That's it?" Toaster blinked down at Ratso. "That's all he said?"
Ratso scratched his ear nervously. "No, that ain't all he said. It's just that…whatever changed you was a once in a million accident. There's no way you could go from being appliances to being human in a split second, just like that."
"So? We knew that!"
"And there's no way to reverse a once in a million accident either." Kirby's voice was almost too soft for her to catch. She leaned into him, putting a hand to his shoulder.
"You mean…"
"There is no way to change back." Though he averted his gaze, she could see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "We're just stuck like this."
Instinctively, she took his arm. Without looking at her, he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. Toaster had the odd sensation as she rubbed his back that she was holding him up in more ways than one.
No more bread. No more counters. No more Radio, or Lampy, or Ratso. Her own eyes began to fill.
"I'm real sorry, fellas," she heard Ratso apologize.
"It's not your fault," she replied, though her own words sounded too flat to be sincere. And yet, even as her heart bled, a small spark kindled; a tiny feeling that leaped with the great opportunity.
"No more decisions! No more waiting!" It seemed to call, like a siren luring her to its depths. "You can do what you want to! You can be what you want!"
The timer dinged, calling attention to a preheated oven. Robbie demanded to be let down from his highchair. Toaster felt Kirby rouse, and she met his eyes as he straightened up slowly.
"We'll be alright," she reassured him.
He nodded wordlessly, rubbing her shoulder as he turned his attention to the stove.
"We'll be alright," she repeated to Ratso, finding more courage in the words the second time. "Tell the others-Radio, Blanky, Lampy-tell them…we'll be alright."
"You sure, slot head?" Ratso watched her closely.
"We'll be alright." She abruptly turned away from Ratso and went to help Kirby finish preparations. They worked silently together, as much in unison as indifferent. At some point, Kirby bent over the sink, one hand covering his eyes.
On seeing him, Toaster too sank into a chair to sob her confusion away.
By the time Rob and Chris returned, both former appliances had regained composure. They still hadn't found the strength to talk to each other; their conversation was limited to comments about dinner and making sure Robbie didn't wander from sight. But somehow in the flurry of planning of simmering rice and bubbling broccoli, Toaster found the comfort she needed. Kirby, too, as he pulled the salmon cakes from the oven and presented to her, shyly, the cherry pie he had prepped.
"Kitchen!" Toaster replied to Rob's call, kissing Kirby's cheek as he bent to place the pie in the oven.
"Free at last, free at last!" Rob sighed, flexing his right arm, as they entered the kitchen.
"Thank God Almighty!" Chris chimed in, following behind.
"It looks as good as new!" Toaster managed to sound cheerful as Rob demonstrated his mobility by hugging her with the arm.
Chris snorted. "It's anything but!"
"I still have to have physical therapy," Rob explained, "But, hey, any progress is good progress! I refuse to let anything get me down!"
"I say a celebration is in order!" Chris announced. She showered Robbie with kisses. "Couples movie night after dinner!" She winked at Toaster. "Sound good?"
"What's the movie?" Rob looked pensive. "Please don't say Citizen Kane. I don't think I could handle that one tonight." He pouted, drawing exaggerated attention to his arm.
"Oh, you big baby." Chris threw her arms around his neck. "Trust me, I'll never choose Citizen Kane as long as I live! I got enough of that one in college!" She placed a big kiss on Rob's cheek. "How's Casablanca sound?"
Toaster couldn't help a chuckle as Rob dramatically cocked his head to one side and rubbed his chin. "Hm, complicated romantic triangle in an exotic location during a world changing war?"
"Complete with a young Belgian actress and street-wise Humphrey Bogart," Chris teased.
"I'm in." Rob looked over at Toaster and Kirby. "What do you say? Join us?"
Kirby had been silent throughout the entire exchange. The tears had disappeared, but there was still a melancholy that surrounded him.
Toaster took his hand, drawing his eyes to her.
"That sounds like a good idea," she said, softly, watching him. "We could use a celebration."
Kirby regarded her quietly for a minute. Then, at last, a smile crept over his face.
Casablanca was a welcome distraction. Each couple sat watching, resting easily as the movie washed over them, plates stained with the remains of cherry pie ignored on the coffee table.
Toaster sat on Kirby's lap, her legs dangling over the armchair they sat in, and her head resting against his shoulder; the same position she'd been in since the start of the movie. In an odd moment of playfulness, Kirby had seized her without a word as she walk part him. Startled, she had laughed, and tried to get free, but he had held her fast until she had relented.
On the couch beside them, Rob and Chris cozied up to each other. Toaster shot them a glance now and then, pleased to see them so content, with Rob's free arm holding Chris as tightly as he could.
"Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow…" Humphrey Bogart said in that deep voice of his. Toaster felt Kirby stroke her hair as Bogey cupped Ingrid Bergman's chin.
"And to think, that hunk was only cast as a gangster in his early films." Chris sighed. "Just goes to show you that you can't take anyone for granted."
Toaster smiled her sentiments against Kirby's neck.
"An American classic," Rob announced to no one in particular as the credits rolled. "Love, loss, and what Ingrid Bergman wore!"
"Don't be so cynical." Chris playfully swatted his leg. "You love it, and you know it!"
"Well, I love something in common with it." Rob grinned and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "What did you guys think?"
"I liked it," Toaster announced, as Kirby grunted his own approval. They'd see it before, during Rob's college days, but somehow it carried a new weight for Toaster. Was it just the romance? Or was the acceptance of things past that couldn't be changed?
"I just don't understand why she had to choose between them," Toaster stated. "If she loved both of them, why couldn't they all stay together?" She regarded the uncertain looks Chris and Rob sent her way. "If you love someone, you should do everything you can to keep them. Shouldn't you?"
"It's, um…" Rob shifted on the couch as he searched for the right words. "It's sort of more complicated than that…"
"I don't see why she wanted either," Kirby grumbled. "That Rick fellow was just a sourpuss, and I'm pretty sure Laszlo was up to something."
"Sure he was!" Toaster tilted her head back to look at him. "He was trying to stop a war!"
"Yeah, but what wasn't he telling her?" Kirby questioned. He shook his head. "No one is ever that perfect unless they have something to hide!"
"Oh, that's just like a man." Chris rolled her eyes. "Why on earth do you have to think the worse of other guys if they act like decent people?"
"Well, to be fair, it was World War II," Rob explained. He grinned nervously as Chris shot him a look. "You don't spend that much time in hiding and have nothing worth hiding."
"War plans, yeah. But love is different."
"It couldn't have been that different." Kirby seemed to be mulling it over. Toaster took the opportunity to slip off his lap. "She lied to him. He lied to her. It seems to me every blasted character in there spent the entire movie lying."
"Wow." Rob appeared to take that in. "You know, I never saw it that way before."
"But, they all just wanted what was best for each other." Toaster just couldn't let the fight go. "She just wanted to keep both of them safe, and they just wanted her to be happy. Doesn't that mean something?"
"What? That they couldn't trust each other?" Kirby blinked at her, his confusion evident. "Are you telling me that's all love is? Making everything worse by trying to make it all better?"
"I get your point, John, but I think you're missing the overall picture." Chris tapped the remote as the video screen turned flashed snow. "Obviously, love is complicated in any situation, no matter who you are. At least, that's what our sophomore lit teacher told us."
"But couldn't they have all worked it out? Eventually?" Toaster asked.
"Maybe…but I don't think they would all have been very happy together," Rob added. "Three's sort of a crowd. Especially in relationships."
"And speaking of thirds," Chris announced, as Robbie called out from upstairs.
"I'll check on him," Kirby offered, rising. Toaster hugged her knees to her chest, considering the tape as Chris put it away. "If someone'll get those pie plates."
"I'll take them," Toaster offered as Rob started to his feet.
"Don't have to tell me twice!" he replied, stretching his arms over his head as he leaned back into the couch.
"I vote that tomorrow we watch something less complicated," Chris said, following Toaster into the kitchen. "How about Witches of Eastwick? It has a love triangle I bet you'd like."
Toaster smiled and returned the hip bump Chris gave her.
"This has been a good night. Rob and I haven't watched a good classic since…" She trailed off, turning on the water to wash the plates. "I guess it's been awhile," she added with a wry laugh.
"Casablanca is a good film," Toaster agreed. She took a towel from the drawer and dried the dishes Chris handed her. "I just don't understand why love has to be so complicated."
"Sweet mystery of life. You have to choose between people sometimes."
"Did you ever have to choose?" Toaster asked, looking towards the junk drawer.
"You mean between someone else and Rob? Thank goodness, no! It was always Rob, right from the moment he dropped lemon sherbet down his shirt in tenth grade." Chris shook her head, as some fond memory played out in her head. "You should have seen the way his ears turned red when I got those paper towels and tried to clean him off."
Toaster found it easy to picture the red-head in that scenario.
"I never actually thought we'd end up together." Chris sobered, pausing to look down at the suds running down the drain. "Much less get stuck in the situation we've had."
"Didn't it feel right when you made love?
Chris shot her a wry grin. "Not everyone works as fast you and John. I knew Rob for three years before he even tried to kiss me."
"Oh."
"Don't get me wrong, it was worth the wait," Chris continued, rinsing out the popcorn bowl before handing it to her. "But Rob always takes his time."
"How did you know it was right, then?" Toaster held a glass up to the light, watching her reflection distort. "How did you know you loved Rob, honestly and truly, instead of someone else?"
"I didn't. Not until I got to know him. We had to, you know, cultivate the relationship."
"Cultivate," Toaster mused, setting the glass to one side. "Like growing a plant."
"Yeah, that's right." Chris shut off the water and picked up a hand towel to dry her hands. "Some things just can't be rushed. I mean, the first time Rob and I made love, we almost…" Chris trailed off, and suddenly stared down at the dishtowel in her hands.
Alarmed, Toaster put a hand on her shoulder. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
Chris was shaking. "Sorry, I just…remembered something. Um…" She hung the towel back up, missing the hook three times before she got it to stick. "Thea, I have to run upstairs. There's something I need to…calculate…" She was out of the kitchen before Toaster could blink.
Kirby was lying back on their bed when she returned to the room, pensively staring up at the ceiling. He lay there without a word as she changed her clothes and brushed her hair.
"Kirby?" she finally asked when she had finished counting. "Are you okay? Are you still upset about earlier?" she ventured, holding her breath.
"What?" He finally stirred from his thoughts. "You mean Ratso's news? No." He shook his head. "I-I wasn't thinking about that."
"Oh." That was a surprise to her. "Well, didn't you like the movie?"
Kirby wouldn't meet her eyes. "Of course, I liked the movie," he grumbled. "It's no Phantom of the Opera, but its fine."
Toaster couldn't help grinning, remembering how he had often belted out "Past the Point of No Return" as a vaccuum. She climbed up on the bed beside him.
"Then, what are you thinking about?"
"Well…" He fidgeted. "What would you say if we didn't watch a movie with Chris and Rob next Saturday?"
"Huh? Why not? You don't want to see the Witches of Eastwick?"
"It's not the movie." He wasn't exactly stuttering. "Tonight was…pleasant… but I've been thinking…maybe we haven't been taking this seriously enough."
"What do you mean?"
Kirby's brows knit together. "Maybe…maybe we've been going about this human thing the wrong way. We've been acting like fools, doing things because we assumed we wouldn't be able to do them ever again. And now that…we can't…Well, maybe we should try it differently."
Toaster cuddled against his inviting arm. "Like what?"
"Spend some more time together, of course."
"But we have been spending more time together," Toaster reminded him fondly, as he ran a hand over her knee.
"So we do something different. Like…Like Rick and Ilsa spending time together. Do something to cultivate the relationship."
"Cultivate?" Toaster repeated, raising her head to look at him. "That's what Chris said…Hey, were you eavesdropping?"
His flush was answer enough. "Look, do you want to spend time with me or not?"
"Of course, I do!" Toaster kissed his cheek. "What should we do?"
He blinked at her, suddenly baffled.
"Why I—I don't know," he exclaimed. "I hadn't thought that far. Maybe Rob has some ideas…" His brows crinkled. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Nope." A spirit of mischief tickled her, and she grinned at him. "None at all. So, how about you make the plans, and tell me how the adventure will go?"
The wrinkles under his eyes deepened for a moment, then softened. "Alright. I'll ask Rob tomorrow. Just be prepared for…for anything."
"Agreed!" Toaster kissed him, finding herself wrapped up in his arms as they commenced with their night.
Kirby clutched the paper ticket in his hand, staring nervously from it to the crowd stretched before him. Rob had not only offered suggestions, he'd helped Kirby make the plans. Dinner at a local restaurant and a walk in the town's park, where an orchestra often played on the weekends. It sounded pleasant enough. But Kirby kept trying to get inside the Toaster's head. Would she enjoy it?
Kirby had nearly forgotten, just as he did time after time, that Toaster spent little time outside in the world. She'd been ordered especially for the cabin, arriving directly from the factory. Their journey to find the master had been the first time she'd ever been out into the world, and they'd been so focused on their destination they hadn't spent time enjoying the world around them.
Now, as they sat on the bus, Kirby found his own excitement aroused by her enthusiasm. Every sign, every stop, every face was a complete wonder for her, and she drank it all. In fact, he spent most of the bus ride watching her, marveling at the pretty sight she made in her fresh peach sleeveless dress with a lacy hem, with a magenta cardigan that matched the blush in her cheeks. Her legs were even smooth, something which baffled him.
"Chris taught me how to shave them," Toaster told him, twirling in her dress. "And I only nicked myself twice with the razor!"
He had even tried something new himself that afternoon. He wasn't even sure when the idea had occurred to him, or how the idea occurred to him. But a simple query to Rob that morning had not only given him the answer he needed, but the tools as well.
"Kirby!" Toaster had exclaimed when he emerged from the bathroom. "You shaved your mustache!"
Kirby couldn't quite meet her eyes as he brushed a hand over his smooth upper lip. "Of course, I did. What…what do you think?"
Having her pressed close against, holding his shoulder for support as she stood on her tiptoes nearly undid him. "I…I like it!"
A perfect start to their venture, he thought.
The sight of the restaurant, when they finally reached it, unnerved him with its finery. The hustle and bustle inside didn't help much either. A tingling down his spine recalled that old appliance code, and only a firm reminder that he was part of the human world now kept him from retreating. Toaster clinging to his arm and excitedly pointing out the décor comforted him as well.
Their number was soon called, and they were seated at one of the middle tables.
"Look at all this!" Toaster exclaimed, reading through the menu and pointing at various meals and their names. "What's Confit de canard?"
"Preserved duck," Kirby responded, quickly recalling the French cookbook Chris had given him.
"Why don't they just call it preserved duck?"
"Got me. Nothing humans do makes sense." He followed the menu at a more leisurely pace, considering each and every offering with calculating care.
"Have you decided?" The waiter was classy and unmoving, even when Toaster smiled at him.
"Hmm, almost." Kirby pointed to the salmon on the back of the menu. "Do you cook this with olive oil or vegetable oil?"
The waiter blinked at him. "Vegetable oil…I believe, sir."
Kirby snorted. "Thought so." Cooking with vegetable oil. Idiots. He flipped the menu over and ordered a salad.
"And madam?" Kirby had to nudge Toaster from under the table.
"Hm? Me? Oh!" She opened the menu and quickly looked it over again. "Um…the alfredo pasta with garlic toast please." She suddenly hesitated before looking up at the waiter. "Umm, how is your toaster doing?"
"Beg pardon?" The waiter stopped writing to blink down at her.
"Has it had a long day? I don't want to overwork it if it's been making toast for everyone all day long."
The waiter stared at her before glancing over at Kirby. Kirby returned the look with a stony gaze. It was a perfectly rational question in his opinion.
"Um…I think it's fine. Although, we actually use an oven for the garlic bread, since we make so much of it…"
"Oh! Well, that's very considerate of you!" Toaster turned her beaming face to Kirby. "You know, I've often wondered how toasters in restaurants were treated. I'm glad this one treats its appliances so well!"
"Toasters, maybe," Kirby responded dryly. "But I feel sorry for the vacuum that has to deal with this mess." He nodded toward a table in the corner where a two-year-old was dumping soup on the floor.
The waiter's eye twitched as he finished writing the order. "I'll be back," he mumbled, darting back to the kitchen, where he could safely gossip with the sous chef about yet another set of weirdos.
Blissfully unaware, Toaster and Kirby continued enjoying themselves. The atmosphere was new and odd, but together it worked for them. The meal, when it arrived, only acted as a change of pace, but they enjoyed every bit of it, except…
"Well, a toaster would have evenly toasted the garlic bread."
From there they walked to the park, following the directions Rob had marked down on a note pad for Kirby. Toaster was squealing with excitement the entire way.
"Look at that!" Toaster pointed to a small group of bike riders coasting along the street.
"What about them?" Kirby suspiciously regarded the two wheels.
"I think I want to try that sometime," Toaster said, hugging him all the tighter. Now Kirby looked at the bikes and their riders with great disdain. He made pains to move Toaster out of their way, coloring only slightly when she laughed and exclaimed, "Kirby, I won't get hurt."
"Considering the way you cook, I'm not so sure." He cocked a grin as she poked his arm.
The middle of the park boasted of a wide pavilion with a well-kept hedge circling around a courtyard. Vendors set up their tables and booths nearby, with signs that advertised hot dogs, bagels, and other treats. Kirby paused when he spotted a booth selling ice cream.
"Now that's something I've always wanted to try," he said.
"Really?"
"Well, don't sound so surprised," Kirby grumbled. "I may not have dreamt about being human, but I've done my share of wondering."
"Well, what are we waiting for?"
A line of four people had formed by the time they reached the vendor, so Toaster agreed to stay at a nearby bench while Kirby waited his turn. He watched out of the corner of his eye, marveling at how at ease she appeared. She was shorter than most of the women there, he realized, offhandedly comparing her and the women that passed by. He knew she was squatter than most of them, too. But even as he noted the differences, he couldn't help the flashes of being with her in bed, the way her body molded to his. She was like no others, he decided, pride stirring inside him.
He glanced away as his turn came to pay. A long list of flavors was tacked down on the glass counter, though a quick look told him there was no cherry. Never mind. He kept it simple and ordered the first flavor on the list. No need to be adventurous here.
When he turned around again, clear plastic bowls of vanilla held firmly in both hands, he found a man with long earrings leaning over Toaster. Alarm went off inside of him, for some reason he didn't understand, especially when something the man said made Toaster gasp and immediately begin patting down her clothes.
Ignoring the people who suddenly swarmed in his direction, he stormed back towards them.
"Here," he announced, shoving a bowl at her. "They didn't have any cherry." He kept his gaze fixed on the man, who paled suddenly under the silent threat and slowly backed off.
"Thank you!" Toaster forgot her panic and spooned a mouthful of ice cream. "Oh, yum!"
"Yeah, okay. Bye." Without further explanation, the man bolted off as fast as he could go.
"What did he want?" Kirby asked, suspiciously watching him until he disappeared from sight
"I'm not really sure." Toaster took another spoonful of ice cream. "Something about a fire, I think."
"What fire?"
"He didn't say. He told me I was smoking, so I just assumed I had caught on fire. Just a misunderstanding, I think." She took another taste. "Kirby, this is wonderful! You have to try some!"
"Hm." Kirby took her arm and led her to the grass, putting as much distance between her and any other bold strangers. The pavilion moved restlessly as couples and groups passed by. Kirby languidly observed couples and families playing, talking, and laughing. He only looked, however, wherever Toaster pointed. He couldn't seem to look at anything other than her.
And that suited him just fine.
A band finished setting up as they tossed away their bowls and spoons, and were already drawing quite a crowd of onlookers. Kirby was ready to duck out completely as people pressed him from all sides. Toaster, however, resisted his tugs.
"Kirby, look at the violin! What do you think they're going to play?"
"Nothing good," he remarked, noting an electric guitar. "Let's go."
"Wait just a minute, please?" Toaster begged. He gave in, but put both hands firmly on her shoulders to keep from losing her in the crowd.
A lead player tapped out a key. Immediately, music stirred through the courtyard. A lead singer swayed at the microphone as the beat began.
"Close your eyes.
Give me your hand, darling
Do you feel your heart beating?
Do you understand?
Do you feel the same?
The tune stirred his memory, and he closed his eyes. Perhaps it was something the radio had played once, though he couldn't recall anything as pleasant.
"Say my name
Sun shines in the rain
A whole life so lonely
Then you come and ease the pain…"
And it fit, he realized feeling Toaster pull his arms around her shoulders. He bent to bury his face in her hair.
"I don't want to lose this feeling…"
"Oh, look at them!" He followed her finger toward the middle of the pavilion. Several couples of all ages had begun dancing to the music.
"Doesn't that look like fun?" Toaster mused. "I've always wondered what dancing like that would be like."
Kirby fixed his gaze on one young couple, near Rob and Chris' age, who practically melded together as danced. Then, stirred by something odd, he put his arm around Toaster's waist and led her into the ring. Satisfied by the questioning look on her face, he took her hand in his, mimicking the young couple, and drew her in tightly. By the time the glee registered on her face, he was already attempting to lead her in the same sort of dance.
"Close your eyes
Give me your hand, darling…"
They managed, to a degree. They were both left-footed and awkward; Kirby himself was suddenly aware of how much he could hurt her if he stepped on her feet. But then she laid her head against his chest, and all he became aware of was wonderful it felt to hold her.
"Is this only burning an eternal flame?"
Lamps lit up the pavilion as darkness rolled in. The bands played on, switching up covers as the crowds changed. Kirby and Toaster were finished dancing when that initial song ended, however. Night found them lounging on the grass underneath the loveliest elm in the park, looking up at the branches waving in the breeze.
They talked about everything they could at first; human sensations, memories of the cabin. Toaster described the hospital to him, attempting the voices of the doctor and the nurses in a way that would have had Radio chuckling. Kirby berated himself for not asking about her first few moments as human. But then, never mind. He took some comfort in the sympathy in her voice.
"I would have been there if I had known," he said when she had finished. He watched as her hand reached up to catch one of the browning leaves falling.
"I know. And I would have been there for you, too."
"Nothing we can do about now," he said, closing his eyes and breathing in the air.
"Kirby, do you suppose…?" He opened one eye to look at her. She gazed up at the sky, where stars were now dotting the dark blue against the street lamps.
"Do I suppose what?"
"Well, do you think this happened by chance? That it was all just some strange coincidence? Or, do you think this was meant to happen?"
Kirby harrumphed. "You know I don't believe in fate."
"Then, coincidence?" She blinked her curious eyes at him.
Kirby stared back, mesmerized. "You know, I've never seen you before."
"Huh?" She wrinkled her nose.
"I mean I've never seen you as you. You've been Toaster, sure. But whenever I looked at you before the accident, I always saw myself."
"Oh, that." Toaster chuckled. "Everyone sees their reflection in me. It's okay. I'm used to it."
"But I don't see my reflection now." Kirby turned on his side and ran a hand along her waist. "I see you."
"But I'm just like I always was."
"Yes, you are."
"Then, I don't understand. How does not seeing your reflection in me answer whether this was fate or coincidence?"
Kirby knew he couldn't make her understand. This beautiful woman had once been a being so eager, hopeful, and bold that any appliance looking at her would see their own insecurities washed away. How could he explain that when he had seen himself in her it wasn't grumpy, bossy Kirby he had seen, but the Kirby who could face storms and leap waterfalls for others? How could he explain the terror he'd found when he realized, at last, seeing her human, that all that he thought of himself had been in his imagination, and everything she made him feel was simply everything he wanted to be for her?
"It doesn't matter," he heard himself saying, instead. "It was just something I was thinking of. Fate or coincidence?" He shrugged. "I don't believe the 'why here' question matters anymore. We…we can't really control what happens now."
"You don't sound upset about that."
"I'm not." And surprisingly, as he traced her smile with a finger, he found himself at peace. "Not anymore. We just need to do what we can to accept everything."
"You mean, have more experiences?"
Kirby scoffed, feigning hurt pride. "Are you saying tonight is just another experience for you?"
"Kirby, I can gladly announce that tonight has been the best experience yet. And we'll get through this. I know we will."
Instead of answering, Kirby gently pulled her into his lap for another kiss.
It was almost midnight when they returned to the house. Rob had offered to leave the backdoor unlocked, but Chris had vetoed by giving them her house key.
"It'll save all of us some time."
Kirby put a finger to his mouth to caution Toaster as he unlocked and opened the door, prepared to tiptoe up the stairs to avoid waking the McGroartys.
It was a surprise when he turned on the light, and found Chris and Rob entangled together on the couch. The two jolted apart at Toaster's gasp.
"Oh, sorry!" Toaster exclaimed. "We thought we would wake you."
"No, no, we haven't gone to bed yet." Rob straightened his pants in a manner that didn't hide the zipper's slide. "We just finished the movie, actually…"
"…An hour ago," Chris remarked with a guilty laugh as she glanced at the clock.
"An hour ago. Right." Rob tried to fix his glasses. "Enjoy your date?"
"It was wonderful!" Toaster broke into ecstatic's and would have plunked down on the sofa with them if Kirby had not held her arm and tugged her into the armchair with him. As much as he enjoyed her rendition of their evening, he found himself studying the faces of both humans, noting their poorly hidden excitement.
"Everything alright here?" he finally asked, as Toaster paused for a breath. Both Chris and Rob took a breath and shared a look, though Kirby could swear it wasn't embarrassment that held their tongues.
"Why not?" Chris said, answering whatever silent question they shared. "They should know why I've been so out of sorts lately. I'm pregnant," she announced, turning to them before they could question her further. "I got the call back from my doctor this afternoon. About six weeks along."
"Pregnant?" Kirby mouthed the word, but Toaster voiced it. "You mean, another little master?"
"Or a little girl." Chris in her joy completely overlooked Toaster's slip. "Hopefully, a little girl."
"So we can have one of each," Rob chimed in, clasping his wife.
"And then, that's enough!"
"Says you," Rob muttered under his breath with a grin. He caught Chris' wrist as she playfully swatted at him and kissed her hand.
"Well, don't you think that's great?" Chris asked the two.
"I think that's wonderful!" Toaster leaped from Kirby's arms before he could hold her back and rushed over to embrace Chris. "Another little human! Robbie will be so excited!"
"I'm excited." Chris returned the hug fiercely. "I've been feeling so awful all this time, ever since our trip to the lake! Now, I know why." She smoothed the ringlets over Toaster's eyes. "I've never been so happy."
"And now, it's late. So maybe we better get some sleep before you know who wakes up?" Kirby rose from the armchair to put his arms around Toaster, ready to follow Rob's suggestion. She lingered, though, as Chris and Rob left the room, arms clasped around each other.
"Congratulations," he heard her whisper.
"Thanks." The couple's chuckles and whispers followed after them as they disappeared.
"Another masterling. Isn't it wonderful?" Kirby let Toaster's question go unanswered as he shifted her hair over her shoulder and pressed his lips to her neck.
"Mmm," he murmured, intent on his work.
"I was afraid they'd never stop fighting. Chris said…I'm happy they'll be alright."
"Humans work it out." Kirby couldn't stop himself. "They always do."
In the low lamp light of the living room, she was slowly conceding to him. She turned her face up to him.
"Kirby," she pleaded when he deftly avoided her mouth. "Please."
"Ask me."
"But, you know what I want." Her eyes were warm and begging.
"I want to hear you say it."
"Bow chicka wow wow." A familiar voice interrupted from the dark kitchen. "Why don't you two get a room?"
"Why don't you just shut it!" Kirby shot back, as Toaster snickered. The spell was broken, to Kirby's disgust. Toaster knew better, however. Ignoring Ratso's cat calls, she slipped out of Kirby's relaxed grasp and smiled sweetly at him, taking his hand to guide him to the stairs.
Kirby immediately forgot Ratso's interruption and followed her.
"Good night, Ratso," she said, as Kirby hurried her to the guest room.