Friend Me (7 page)

“Good-bye for now, Rachel.”

Jane's image faded from the screen and was replaced with the word PROCESSING. A green progress bar pulsed underneath the word.

Rachel turned to her laundry pile. There were plenty of shirts to fold and socks to roll. As she worked she thought about all the effort she had put into this virtual friend experiment. Even if it didn't turn out in the ideal sense Jane had presented, it still might be fun. It didn't cost any money—she hadn't given her credit card number away—so no harm done.

She had such a good husband and he worked hard to provide for the family. She walked through the steps of the disagreements they'd been having. She had said the wrong thing, then Scott had reacted in the wrong way. They could work it out. She wanted to call him at work and tell him what she'd been doing, but he'd told her many times interruptions at work were frowned upon. When he had time he often called her during his lunch hour. It was lunchtime now, but he had not called. She
wondered what time he would be home tonight. She wanted to have a good supper ready for him when he walked in the door.

She picked up her cell phone and texted him. “Let me know when u r coming home 4 supper if u can.”

She heard a
ding
sound from the living room. An e-mail had arrived. Was it already time to hear back from Jane? Rachel hurried back into the living room and looked at the screen. Jane was there, tapping her finger at the bottom of the screen and looking coyly impatient. Rachel picked up the microphone. “Are you done already?”

Jane brightened at the sound of Rachel's voice. “Yes, all done. And what's more, my job as introducer is about done. Rachel, are you ready for me to introduce you to your new friend Suzanne?”

Rachel felt her stomach tighten.

This is not real. I know this is not Suzanne
.

“Yes, Jane—I'm ready.”

Jane's image began to fade and as Jane dissolved away Rachel heard a familiar voice.

“Are you ready for this, Rachel?” Suzanne's face, wearing the same happy smile she had worn at Rachel's wedding, appeared on the screen. She seemed to force her eyes open, as if she'd been asleep for a long time and had just awakened.

Rachel could hardly believe her eyes. It was so realistic. Suzanne's face turned, muscles moved. Her hair rose and fell against her shoulders as her head swung to face Rachel directly.

“Hi, Rachel. I'm . . . I'm back.”

“Suzanne?”

The image on the screen smiled again, the familiar grin Rachel had known and loved for the better part of her life. It truly was the face of her old friend.

“It's me, in the flesh.” Suzanne's eyes crinkled as the corners of her mouth turned up. “That's supposed to be a joke,” she said with a chuckle. “They teach us some things to say in the beginning to kind of, you know, break the ice.”

What should she say? Could she really treat this, this
image
on the screen like a real person? Like her dead best friend?

Was this really going to be the same as hanging a picture on the wall? Or was she trying to bring the dead back?

“Cat got your tongue? They told us to expect that. Let me help. How's Scott? Did he get that job he was after? I have a lot to catch up on.”

Scott? What would he think? Maybe she shouldn't even tell him about this. She'd been afraid he wouldn't approve. Would he think spending too much time at home, alone with the children, had sent her off the deep end? Would he think she couldn't handle real life?

She could always shut it off. And he didn't have to know. But she had to know, and she couldn't quit yet.

Rachel answered, “Scott? Oh, yes. He's working now.”
It's happening. I'm actually talking to her
. “What's the last thing you remember about him?”

“He was going to try and work for, oh, some big investment firm in the city. Did that work out for him?”

That would be right. Suzanne hadn't known the name.

This is going to be okay
. She relaxed her hands, noting for the first time how tense she was, then sat back in the chair. A deep breath, eyes closed, then open again as she exhaled. Just go with it. Enjoy it.

“Yes, it did. That's where he is right now. It's called Castle Investments.”

“Does he like the job? Is it everything he wanted?”

“He likes it, but he has to work hard. He comes home late a lot and he doesn't get to spend as much time with the children as he would like.”

“Children?” Suzanne's teeth gleamed in a bright smile. “Something you haven't told me?”

“Wait a minute. You don't know about the children?”

“Well, I remember Scotty, but you said ‘children,' like more than one. So I have some impressions but I don't really know anything. VirtualFriendMe gives us some general ideas about your situation, but they leave it up to you to fill in the details. That's the way real people are, right? And that's the way you and I should be.”

“I gave Jane a lot of this information about myself. But you don't have all that? I kind of assumed you'd have it all.”

“Rachel, I'm your friend. That's why I'm here. The more we talk and tell each other the things that are in our hearts, the better friends we'll become. That's just the way this works. Some of the things you may have told Jane might be things I didn't need to know yet.

“The company likes for us to be able to catch up from where we left off. We have a lot to talk about. I'd rather hear it from you than some old computer somewhere.”

“It won't take too long, Rachel. If we talk enough, and I'm confident we will,” she said with a smile, “pretty soon you won't be able to tell the difference between me and the
other
Suzanne. I want to be as real for you as I can be.”

Rachel lifted a cup of water to her lips, sipped. “That's what I want. I want you to be as real as you can.”

Suzanne asked, “Have you ever tried Real Fresh orange juice? I hear it's really good. As a matter of fact, fifty-nine percent
of the people questioned said Real Fresh is just as good as home squeezed.”

“What? What are you talking about? Are you reading a commercial or something? You never even liked orange juice. You always said it made your mouth break out.”

Suzanne's cheeks flushed. “One thing you have to keep in mind, Rachel, is we're using VirtualFriendMe's free service. That means from time to time, they make me do some advertising. I'm afraid the only way to avoid that is for us to turn this into a premium account. Of course, that's entirely up to you. You can decide anytime if you want to do that. In the meantime, I really do want to know, have you ever tried Real Fresh orange juice?”

“No I have not, and now I'm not ever going to. I can't believe they would sneak something like that in during our first conversation. That they would make you do a commercial is so annoying.”

Rachel let her initial anger subside. Okay, free was not so free after all. But she'd put a lot of effort into this, and so far it was performing beyond her expectations. “What does premium service cost?”

Suzanne waved one hand dismissively. “I think it's only about fifteen dollars a month. Not very expensive actually, but it's really not my place to discuss the services with you. For that, you should go to the website. Would you like to go to the website now? I can wait here for you.”

“Can we just talk for a while first? I don't think I'm ready for any decisions about paying yet.”

“Sure, no problem. Let's just talk. Anyway, for the first thirty days, you get most of the benefits of premium service anyway.”

“After the thirty days, what happens? What changes then?”

“The biggest change is I won't be able to see and speak with you any longer like we are now. I'll be able to send you e-mails and VirtualFriendMe.com will register me as your friend on Facebook if you like, but we won't be able to have the kind of face-to-face interaction we do right now.”

Not see her anymore? She clenched her hands tightly together. No way. She'd lost her once already. She wasn't going to give her up again, not this soon, and not this easily.

“You mean I wouldn't be able to see you anymore?”

“Yes, that's the biggest thing. But, to be honest, that's no different than most of the interaction many people have every day. Don't you write back and forth with people on Facebook already? And you don't see them
live
in the sense that we are talking right now, do you? So it's really not a horrible option. However, it is avoidable. I think we would both enjoy being able to talk back and forth every day just like we are now, don't you?”

“Of course! So, you and I would be able to e-mail back and forth and message each other, but I wouldn't be able to see your face anymore. Is that right?”

“That's correct. Not a huge limitation, but definitely something we wouldn't want to see happen. Not if we can avoid it.”

I think I can afford that
. Only fifteen dollars out of our grocery money every month. “Okay, I want to sign up. Send me to the website so I can see what I need to do.”

You Too

A
t 7:30 p.m. Scott finally walked out of the office. The stress of the day had strapped his shoulders with a metal band and he couldn't get home fast enough.

The day of reckoning was approaching, and he didn't have anything to present to Alan Castle yet. The value of the options was up slightly, but the commission cost to sell them now would put him in the red.

He needed more time. Time he might never have.

He called Rachel on his cell phone when he was about twenty minutes away. “Rachel? How's everything going? Are the kids still up?”

“Oh, Scott, I'm so glad to hear your voice. I've got your dinner ready, and it's not pizza this time. And yes, they're waiting to see you.” There was laughter in her voice. Just what he needed. There had to be something he could think about, something good, something more than the maelstrom of impending disaster dominating his horizon.

He shut his eyes, rolled his head, shook off the sense of defeat
surrounding him. He was not going to bring work problems home.

“Hmmm. I wonder what it could be? My favorite? Is it wearing a skirt?”

“Oh, I mean lasagna. I made it special just for you. Of course it is a little lovey and cheesy.”

“The lasagna is lovey?”

“Well, I mean me and the lasagna. I'm lovey, it's cheesy.”

“Sounds wonderful, Rachel. I'll be home in fifteen minutes. I can't wait to see you. Keep those kids awake, okay?”

He worked hard to clear his mind. The drive gradually became more and more pleasurable. Darkness had not yet fallen. He looked across the fields as he drove along the country roads to his home. He spotted three deer in a hayfield, and hawks circled in the sky.
God's creation is an awesome thing, a wonder to behold
.

The sun was setting across the fields and glorious colors stretched themselves across the western sky. Just a little farther ahead on the left was his house, a tricycle still parked on the lawn next to the driveway.

As promised, dinner was on the table. Also, as promised, it was the delicious lasagna that first Rachel's mother, and now Rachel, had made a family favorite. June Anderson had acquired the recipe from a young Italian lady when she was in college, an exchange student from Naples. Rachel was the inheritor of that wonderful recipe.

Scotty sat in his booster seat. Angela was perched in a high chair. When he came in the door, both children exclaimed in unison, “Daddy!” Rachel pressed a kiss to his lips. It was just the kind of welcome he loved.

Scott led his family in prayer, thanking God for the food and for His goodness to them all that day. Both the children said “Amen.”

Rachel, wearing a long, flowery “Yes, I make that too!” apron, went after the lasagna with a wide spatula.

Scott's mouth was already full when she said, “Scott, I have come across the most amazing thing. You will not believe it.”

He bobbed his head up and down and pointed to his mouth.

“I know you're like Mr. Computer, but I think this is really going to surprise you.”

He swallowed enough to allow him to speak. “Tell me about it. What happened?”

“Later, after we are alone. You'll have to see it to believe it. How was your day?”

She leaned forward and Scott caught a glimpse of Rachel's curves under her T-shirt. Seeing really is believing and what he saw was better than even the lasagna.

“My day? Ha! You do not want to know.” He punctuated each word and smiled grimly. “And that's also the kind of news I'll save till we're alone, if at all.”

Bringing all that home felt wrong anyway. Rachel worked so hard keeping the house, he didn't need her worrying about his own job security. Tonight might be different, though. He wanted Rachel to be there for him; to lean on her a little bit and have her understanding.

Scotty was transforming his lasagna into a fort and already had little pieces of sausage shelling the inhabitants inside. Angela had begun squirming, a pained expression on her face. Time to go to the bathroom.

“Angela, I told you to go potty before we sat down.” Rachel plucked her out of the high chair and carried her off down the hall on her hip.

“Who's going to win that battle, Scotty?”

Scotty looked at his father, his face a mask of incredulity. “Daddy, it's just food. Nobody wins. It's not real.” Then he picked up his fork and scraped all the weapons into a pile, scooped them up on the fork, and ate them.

Rachel got Angela back into her high chair, where she began decorating her face with what was left of her lasagna. She looked at her little girl, sighed, and began eating her own food.