Just What She Ordered

She should have known it wouldn’t work when he gave her a notebook before the engagement ring. Straight out of the crate, she powered him up. “Nice to meet you, Claire. I brought you a notebook.”

Claire stared at his beautiful face. Green eyes. Caramel skin. Strong jawline. Convincing laugh lines for a 45-year-old. Exactly the man she ordered. But not quite a man.

He was a Robolove 5, indistinguishable from a real human - except for the solar panel under his hair. His hefty price tag did not include the notebook, which was small, black, and unlined. An artist’s notebook. Claire was not an artist.

Henry said it was for Claire to keep notes so she can remember things accurately. Was there an arrogance setting she missed when she ordered him? She remembered selecting kind, sweet, and funny, with an upper class British accent.

She regretted the accent immediately, as it made everything sound condescending. On one knee, holding Grandma’s ring, he said, “Would you do me the distinct honor of being my wife?” She was hung up on the word “distinct.” Like he was a prince and she was scrubbing floors.

Claire had a housekeeper who scrubbed her floors. She was 44, with a successful career in marketing. She owned a condo in Los Angeles. But she was chronically single, and it was Grandma’s dying wish for Claire to order a Robolove. Grandma willed her $20,000 and her diamond ring for the cause.

From her hospital bed, Grandma whispered, “Getting Daniel was the best thing I ever did. He took care of me. I want that for you.” Daniel was forty years Grandma’s junior. “He’s a stallion!” she said when she first got him, scandalizing the family.

Daniel was a Robolove 3, a solid model. The 4 had a glitch that caused the robots to faint when they overheated. The issue was fixed for the 5, which was advertised as having “enough RAM for 5 men!”

Claire selected that Henry bring a surprise gift. She was not expecting a notebook. She regretted not purchasing the update package. “Most people want to update the settings after a few weeks,” the salesperson said. No, she thought. Henry will be perfect.

And Henry was perfect, as long as he was properly charged. He cooked. He complimented her. He got a job in IT. Her friends liked him. Her friend Leila liked him a little too much. Half of Claire’s friends had Roboloves and/or Robokids of their own, so no one judged. But Claire didn’t like the way Henry smelled. He smelled slightly toxic, like a new rug.

And then there was Jesse. Flesh and blood Jesse, who smelled of pine and musk and something Claire couldn’t place. She sniffed his hoodie while he was in the bathroom, then dropped it guiltily.

“Your faucet’s leaking,” Jesse said, emerging from the bathroom.

Claire stood in her living room awkwardly. “Did I leave that there?” he asked, looking at the hoodie. “Sorry.” As he bent to pick it up, he brushed by, and Claire caught his scent for real. She struggled to focus.

A neighbor recommended Jesse as a handyman. He was a big guy. Strong. At least ten years younger than Claire, and not her type at all. “I have the parts in my truck,” he said. “Be right back,” and he winked. Did he wink? Was that a twitch?

And then there was an incident.

Claire had a bad week at work. She was in a weak state, filling a pot with soapy water when her phone rang. Distracted by the work call, she heard a drip behind her getting louder. She swore into her colleague’s ear as she realized the sink was overflowing and ran to turn off the faucet.

She was madly pulling paper towels off the roll as Jesse rushed in with a laundry basket of clean towels and dumped them onto the puddle. “Those are my-” good towels, Claire started to say. A human man was crouching on the floor, sopping up her mess. Who cares about towels?

Claire started crying. Unfazed, Jesse rose from the floor, took the paper towels from her hands, and embraced her. It wasn’t just a hug. It was an embrace. She melted against his warm body. Listened to his heart beat. “It’s okay,” he was saying. “You have vinyl floors.” She laugh-cried into his flannel shirt.

Then they heard Henry’s key in the lock. Jesse abruptly dropped the embrace and stepped away. Claire’s stomach flooded with guilt. But… he’s just a robot, she reminded herself.

“Hello,” Henry said from the living room, taking in the scene. “What’s all this then? Why are your good towels on the floor?”

Claire could only think about the embrace. It was wrong, right? She shrugged, “No… they’re not... that good. We’re cleaning up a spill.”

“I got it,” Jesse said to Claire. “Go see your fiancé.” It was the first time in her life she didn’t like the sound of the word “fiancé.”

She went into the living room and hugged Henry, unable to stop comparing his rigid metal frame and skin-like polymer with Jesse’s real skin, bones, and muscle. His heart. “What’s wrong?” Henry asked. “You look guilty.”

“Oh, I let the sink overflow. It was... stupid,” she stammered.

Jesse passed through the living room with the towels in the laundry basket. “I’ll put these in the wash for you,” he said, leaving for the laundry room.

“No, you don’t have to…” Claire trailed off. He was already gone. Did he even have detergent?

“You have feelings for him,” Henry said.

“What? No,” Claire said. “He’s so… young.” She remembered selecting Mild Romantic Jealousy when ordering Henry. She wanted him to care if she was embracing another man, but more than anything, she wanted to embrace that other man again. She craved another incident.

“You’re gaslighting me, Claire,” Henry said. “Do you know what that is, or shall I get your notebook so you can write it down?”

“I know what gaslighting is, and I don’t want that stupid notebook. Ever!”

“I’m hurt, Claire. I’m hurt you don’t like the notebook and I’m hurt about you and the handyman.”

Claire raised her voice, “You’re not hurt. You’re a robot! You can’t feel anything! Now you’re gaslighting me!”

The door opened. Jesse. How much of that did he hear?! “I gotta run,“ he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“How much do we owe you?” Henry asked, condescending as ever.

“It’s taken care of, but thank you,” Jesse said.

“Come back while we’re at work tomorrow,” Henry said. Claire quickly ran through tomorrow’s work schedule. Could she call off? Could she work from home? “Come by before eight,” Henry was saying.

Claire laid in bed that night, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. Lying next to her, Henry was more like a dead body than a life partner. Sure, she could tap him awake any time, but it took 30 seconds for him to power up. Not much help in an emergency.

Plus there was no chemistry. Just programmed adoration, service, and cooperation. Why wasn’t that enough? Claire’s mind wandered back to Jesse. Did he own actual sweaters, or just hoodies? Can you put him in a suit? He probably wants a family, she thought sadly.

Suddenly Henry opened his eyes, startling Claire. She looked at the clock. 6:30 AM. Had she slept at all? After 30 seconds, Henry said, “You’re beautiful in the morning,” in a way that sounded like she wasn’t other times of day.

“Thanks, I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna call off work,” she said, faking illness for the first time in her life. Henry at least pretended to buy it, leaving a cup of tea by her bedside before he left.

Claire left a message at work and started getting ready. She wanted to look casual, but gorgeous. Natural, but perfect. Her eyelid skin dragged as she applied eyeliner. That didn’t used to happen. How could Jesse find her attractive? How could Henry? Oh, right, he was programmed to. Just what she ordered.

Jesse knocked. Claire walked so slowly (as to seem casual) that he knocked again. She opened the door and smiled uncontrollably. “Hey,” he said. “There’s something on your face.”

Claire panicked. She just finished obsessively inspecting her face. “It’s a smile,” he said. “Sorry, that was cheesy. Look at me, telling dad jokes, and I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

No girlfriend! “Do you want kids someday?” she blurted out.

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t know. My sister has two. I love them, but I also love peace and quiet, you know?” He winked again. Or twitched. Whatever it was, Claire felt like she was floating.

“Me too,” she said. The words hung there until she heard herself say, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Ask me anything,” he said.

“I’ve been wondering if, you know...” She waited for him to read her mind.

“I don’t know,” he chuckled.

“I was wondering if I were - single...” Claire forgot how to breathe.

“If you were single? Would I - date you?” he guessed.

She exhaled, bit her lip, and nodded. Palms sweating. Heart pounding. Finally, he read her mind! He sat down on the couch like she had asked what he wanted for dinner.

After a moment, he said, “No disrespect to Henry, but, why not? You’re cute. I like you.”

Why not?! My eyelids sag when I apply eyeliner, she thought. “Uhh, thanks,” she said dumbly, ”I thought the age difference might be a... thing.”

“Why?” he asked, not understanding, bless him. “We’re both in our thirties, right?”

“I'm in my early forties, actually. Late early forties.” She sat down next to him.

“Well, I’m late early thirties and I wouldn’t care, but you’re engaged.”

Oh right. She twirled Grandma’s ring around her finger. “I’m thinking about getting rid of Henry,” she blurted out. “He’s a robot.”

“I know, I saw his solar panel. Did you buy him new?”

“Yeah, I customized him. I thought I knew what I wanted, but...,” she tried to smile, but started crying. Again. Jesse slid over and wrapped his arms around her. His smell was intoxicating.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We all make mistakes. Sometimes expensive mistakes.”

She laugh-cried into his shirt again. She had to get rid of Henry, but the market for used robots was crowded. A lot of dissatisfied customers, she realized.

What kind of fool thinks they can purchase romantic love? Grandma, she thought. Then she remembered Leila, and sent her a text. “I’ll sell u Henry, half price if you want.”

Leila texted back immediately, “R u serious? Why don’t you want him????”

“Decided to date humans,” Claire wrote.

“Good luck, LOL! YES! I’ll take Henry! So over dating humans,” Leila responded.

That evening, Claire told Henry. “You’re not… what I expected,” she said.

“You chose every detail. How am I not what you expected?”

“I just don’t think I can be with a robot,” Claire said.

Henry hung his head. “I thought I was more than just a robot to you.”

“I thought you could be, too. But I don’t like the way you smell.”

“You know the smell fades in a few months,” he said.

It had only been 6 weeks. Claire barely remembered life before Henry. Before Jesse. Before Grandma died. “You’ll be reprogrammed to love Leila overnight,” she told him.

Once Henry powered down, Claire took Grandma’s ring off, put it in a box, and tucked it in the back of a drawer, where she spotted the notebook Henry had given her. She looked at it for a moment and then grabbed a pen.

“For Leila,” she wrote on the first page. “Enjoy Henry. I’m sure he’s perfect for you. Love, Claire.” She set the notebook on Henry’s nightstand and texted Jesse about the cracks in the ceiling.