CHAPTER NINE
NORA
Cookie is the typical Pembroke orange-and-white, with the addition of a darker mask on her face that makes her look like an adorably misshapen raccoon. She’s small but muscular, and she’s jumping up on Cormac’s legs as if she wants to climb him like a tree.
I smile as he scoops her up into his arms, her head nestling immediately into his neck. It’s adorable, and I can’t even summon the will to pretend otherwise. If I could do it without drawing attention to myself, I’d snap a photo of the two of them, but I don’t want him to get the impression that I’m a softie.
“You don’t have to try to walk her,” he says, looking a little embarrassed. “You can just use the ball machine.”
“Let me guess.” I pause dramatically, raising my eyebrows. “The instructions are in the manual.”
He grins. “Sure, but I figured I’d show you too. Ididpromise to introduce you to a robot. Let’s go outside.”
He steps into the hall, Cookie still snuggled against his neck, and I follow him, feeling more out of sorts than ever.
Cormac snuggles with dogs and has a clean, grown-uphouse. You think you know a guy, and then he hits you with this…
Cookie peers at me suspiciously over his shoulder as I slip past Cormac and open the door for him.
“I thought I was supposed to open the doors,” he comments as he nods for me to precede him.
My heart beats a little faster as I step outside, but that’s probably because Cookie has repositioned her head against Cormac’s neck to continue watching me intently.
He heads outside after me and sets her down.
She immediately starts barking again, staring at me while she does it.
“I thought she was on two anxiety medications.”
“This is her medicated.” He seems a little embarrassed as he adds, “It’s not because I haven’t tried to train her. We’ve been through several trainers. I adopted her from a rescue program. She had a hard early life, and she can’t forget it.”
Something softens in my chest.
“Just a sec,” Cormac says. He heads to a hip-height storage cabinet on the far side of the covered porch and pulls out what looks like a metal box on wheels. It appears to be some kind of machine, with a large, hollow cylinder tube protruding from the front.
Cookie goes batshit, running in rapid circles around the yard as she barks, although her bark sounds more excited thanget the fuck off my lawn, lady.
I watch in fascination as Cormac sets the machine down on the lawn and presses a button. Seconds later, a ball is sucked into the tube and then propelled into the yard. Cookie launches after it.
After she retrieves the ball, she drops it directly in front of the machine. The machine rolls forward a little, and the cylinder in the middle drops until it’s level with the ball. Therobot emits a whirring sound, and a vacuum sucks the ball back into the interior.
My gaze flies to Cormac as I hear the thunk of the ball being re-deployed.
“It looks like the robot from that Disney movie.”
He looks pleased or possibly amused. “It has sensors instead of eyes. I don’t believe in anthropomorphizing machines.”
“Actually,” I say, ignoring his buzzkill response, “it throws balls, so it’s more like BALL-E.”
“Leave it to you to give my robot a cutesy name,” he replies with a crooked smile. “At least you haven’t destroyed this one yet.”
“If it can withstand Cookie, it can probably survive me…” I watch in fascination as the robot rolls across the lawn to retrieve the ball. Turning back to Cormac, I ask, “But when did you do this? Your dad said you did something with computers for work.”
“He’s right. I worked in network security. Tinkering is my hobby.” He lifts his eyebrows. “You could say I’m preparing for our robot overlords. Once they’ve taken over the world, they’ll need someone to help tighten the nuts and bolts. It’ll be my big chance to be a doctor, the way my mother always hoped.”
When I continue looking at him, obviously not appeased by his joke. “It used to be a hobby, but a big company picked up the mapping model I created for…” His expression turns wry. “BALL-E.I made enough money to retire.”
“You’re retired? But you’re my age!” I’ve never heard of anyone retiring at thirty. “Why didn’t I know this?”
