Robert Heinlein - For Us, The Living

The sky car purred along and his thoughts turned to Diana. She would be glad to see him and he to see her. Rehearsals for her new series had prevented them from seeing much of each other while he was in Hollywood, and a stereoscopic televue visit was not the same thing. No, not in several important respects. He smiled to himself. She probably wasn't at Tahoe. However she might be home. Home to Perry was the cottage in the High Sierras. Why not drop in and see?—Surprise her if she was there.

He located their canyon, got his bearings from the waterfall and found the little roof and landing flat. He set the car down gently and proceeded through the hangar and down the steps. He spoke to the door and paused while it glided silently back. He stepped inside and peered around. At first he saw no one, then his eyes adjusted to the gloom. He stood very still for a long moment while his heart pounded and blood throbbed in his ears. Then he backed slowly out, being careful that his sandals made no noise. He tiptoed quickly upstairs and took off at once. Some miles away he hovered in the air and took stock. This was what he had feared. This was what they expected him to tolerate peacefully. Well, at least he had managed not to break his parole and not to make a bloody ass of himself by making a scene. Now what? Where do we go from here? 'Where do we go from here, boys, where do we go from here?' The only dignified thing to do was to go away and not bother Diana further. Fortunately he had enough credit to do as he liked. He'd enter as a cadet at Goddard Field as soon as he was released from Tahoe and in due course he'd have his shooting star and get a job as a rocket pilot. Maybe Hedrick could be persuaded to let him go at once. That was best. It'd be lonely not to see Olga regularly. It'd be twice as lonely not seeing Diana. It'd be just plain awful and he might as well admit it. Not to mention Captain Kidd. Who got the custody of the cat in these cases? He'd never cared much for cats, but he had grown fond of this old scoundrel with his swearing and demands for service. And the way he had of kneading biscuits on your stomach, with his motor running like an electric fan. Yes, he'd miss Captain Kidd. As he mused Perry gradually realized that there was no anger in his heart, no red rage, no black hatred. He didn't even hate Bernard. Not that he ever expected to like the fellow. Men of that artistic sort just weren't his kind. But he realized that he no longer felt any righteous urge to beat up on the beggar. All he felt was a deep regret that a circumstance had come to pass whereby he had to break off matters with Diana. He wished now that he hadn't thought of surprising her. Well, anyhow nobody knew but himself. Say! Nobody knew but him and he wasn't jealous anymore. He sat very quietly and considered this amazing fact. Could it be that he had fallen out of love with Diana? He considered this. No. Diana was just as dear to him as ever. She raised his blood pressure just as much. He wanted her here right now, with her arms around him. No, it was simply that he no longer needed to hold her prisoner and snarl at anyone who approached. Somehow he felt even more sure and certain of his love for her, and her love for him.

Then nothing need be changed. He could just ignore the whole thing. A great weight was lifted from his mind. He laughed aloud, then unlocked the controls, and pulled back on the stick.

Twenty minutes later he opened the door of his little cottage at Tahoe. He strode in, whistling merrily, unstrapped his belt and chucked it in a corner. Olga was lying on the couch, reading. She looked up, laid her book aside and spoke.

"Hello, bright eyes. What are you so happy about? Come here. I want to count your arms and legs. Hmm—Seems to be all in place. Perhaps your head is gone, but you wouldn't miss it. Have you had your fill of playing tag with clouds in that outlandish contraption? I've a good mind to recommend you for a restrained ward."

He picked her up, held her in the air, and planted a smacking kiss on her mouth. Then he sat down, swinging her about so that she landed on his lap.

"There now, wench! You and I can talk. Do you miss me?"

She twisted and squirmed. "Perry! Put me down. Is this any way to treat your attending physician?"

He held her tightly. "No side issues, please. I want to talk about you and me. Tell me, strumpet, do you feel hot and bothered when I'm around. Like this for example." He rubbed his cheek against her arm.

"Hot and bothered! What an expression! Perry, what in the world do you mean by this? You're supposed to be in love with Diana."

He grinned at her. "Yes, and suffering from pathological jealousy. Yeah, I know all about that—but you see I've just discovered that I'm cured."

She twisted in his lap and looked at him squarely. "Do you mean that you find you aren't in love with Diana anymore?"

"On the contrary, I love her devotedly, but I just discovered that I no longer suffer from possessive jealousy. That's why I was whistling when I came in. Then I caught sight of you and recalled that I had been wanting to do something for a long time, so I did it. But you haven't answered my question. Fair maid, do I arouse your primitive passions?"

"I'm not a maid and that's a hell of a way to make love."

"You get the idea. How about it? Speak up."

"Well, now that you mention it, it always seems a little warm in your neighborhood."

He kissed her again before replying, "Then come on. What are we waiting for?"

"Perry, you devil, must you be so brash about it?"

"I thought you modern psychiatrists didn't believe in fancy words for simple ideas?"

"Words aren't important, but no woman ever objects to a little tenderness."

"Okay." He proceeded to demonstrate tenderness in caressing. "Is that better?"

"Much better."

He swung her around onto the couch and stretched out beside her. She gave a little gasp. "No, Perry. Be good. It's too soon after breakfast."

"Then hold your breath while I count ten thousand by twos."

"You're incorrigible." She sighed, and her eyes closed.

The next morning Perry awoke feeling crowded and cramped. He discovered that he was hemmed in on a fairly narrow couch by two large objects. When his eyes focused he found that Olga's head rested on his right shoulder and that Diana's head lay on his left. Gently he attempted to disentangle himself. Diana opened her eyes and smiled sleepily, then spoke, "Hello, darling."

"Hello. If I were back in 1939, I'd light a Murad."

"What does that mean?"

"Never mind. When did you get in?"

It was Olga who answered. "Late last night. I was awake but you were snoring so beautifully that we decided not to disturb you. So we whispered very discreetly across your manly chest."

Perry decided not to push the matter further. Apparently the girls had settled things in some feminine fashion beyond his comprehension. He decided to let well enough alone.

Diana stretched and yawned. "I'm starved. Anybody want breakfast? I'll order it."

After breakfast Perry announced that he was going to try to locate Master Hedrick. He had told the women about his intention of entering at Goddard Field, and wished to push ahead with his plans.

Hedrick received him with his usual courtesy. Perry recounted what he had been doing, then broached the subject of taking rocket training. Hedrick nodded his approval.

"But you see, sir, if I go to Goddard Field, I'll need to stay there continuously, three months at least. I can't check back here every day or two. Now I feel that I'm cured and fully adjusted to modern life. Certainly I don't suffer from sexual jealousy. Don't you think I'm cured?"

"Certainly you are cured, my boy. The last several association tests you've taken showed it conclusively."

"You've known for some time I was cured?"