Published: September 18th 2021, 2:00:04 pm
Brigid was still annoyed when she stepped out of the shower, but it had helped a little. For all the trouble Pat had saved her since she'd moved in, these latest inconveniences weren't that huge of a deal, were they? She still had a beautiful house, and an AI that would do most of the work in it for her... What was the worst that could happen?
She was glad that Pat wasn't standing right outside the bathroom door, waiting for her, when she walked out, though she had to remind herself that just because she didn't see the hologram, it didn't mean Pat couldn't see, or hear, her. In fact, a moment later, almost before her sigh of relief had finished leaving her lips, the 'human' version of Pat appeared.
"Don't you look fresh and ready for fun?" Pat smiled. "I have some activities planned for you, if you'd like t..."
"No," Brigid cut her off. She felt so rude; she would have anyway, but having a face to put to the voice she was interrupting made it that much worse. "Sorry, Pat, I have plans."
Pat frowned for the briefest moment, then looked confused. "You don't have anything on your calendar."
Why had she thought Pat wouldn't know that? "Well, I don't put everything on my calendar," she shrugged. Pat, of course, wasn't talking about the calendar on her phone, not really, since she'd been made before those were common, so she had no way of interfacing with it directly. The events from it were the same, Brigid having flipped through her phone's version in front of Pat's cameras, so that, now, there was a calendar 'hanging' digitally in the kitchen with all those same appointments and such listed on it, but, unless she specifically remembered to tell Pat about it, they didn't update when she made changes, and new ones didn't show up automatically.
"I see," Pat nodded gravely. "Well, be sure to be back before 7."
Brigid wrinkled her nose. Was Pat giving her a curfew? And was the curfew really that early?! The improved mood she'd been trying to force herself into was already crumbling. Arguing would only do more damage, so she gave up. "We'll see," she said simply.
"Would you like me to call you a ride?" Pat offered.
What had gotten into her lately? When had Brigid ever needed, or asked for, a ride anywhere? She had a car! "Uh, no thanks," she shook her head. "I have it under control."
Did she need to reset Pat again? She had been acting strangely since the last time she'd done that... But what if it made things worse? She was still working now... As old as she was, it was hard to tell how long that would remain the case if she kept messing around with stuff. It wasn't like she could just Google the issue and find a solution, and Pat hadn't come with any instruction manual. She'd have to give it a little more time, see how bad it got, then decide if she could live with it, or if it was worth the risk of more damage by tinkering around with the computers.
She really hadn't intended on leaving the house for the rest of the day, but now that she was pretending she'd had plans all along, she was determined to stick to that, even if it made no sense for her to go change her clothes, rather than having brought a new outfit into the bathroom with her to change into it there. Was this evidence enough that she should try another reset, letting herself be chased out of her own house by Pat? Maybe... Or maybe with some time to chill out, Pat would go back to normal.
She did feel a little silly leaving her house in her shorts and t-shirt, more like a little girl running around than the partner in a law firm. That was only amplified when she finally settled on going to the movies, and, when she bought a ticket to something R-rated, being forced to show her ID to the teenager running the ticket booth.
"Seriously?" Brigid huffed. "I left it all the way back in my car!"
"Sorry," the teen shrugged. "Rules are rules, kid."
Kid?! Brigid fumed, staring up at the boy. Who did he think he was calling kid?! She was way older than him, way more important than him... Who did he think he was?! She opened her mouth to let him know all that, only to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the plexiglass shield around the booth. While she didn't think she looked young enough that she couldn't go to a R-rated movie on her own, she certainly didn't show her age, and the redness in her face as her anger grew just emphasized her physical immaturity more, as would, no doubt, her stomping and throwing a fit.
"Fine," she glared at him. "I'll be right back."
This was smarter, easier... There was no reason to make a scene. She trudged back to her car, regretting her decision to leave her purse in her trunk so she wouldn't have to either set it down on the sticky theater floor or the seat beside her, and risk it falling down onto the floor anyway, simply sliding her credit card into one of the tiny pockets on her shorts, exactly big enough for that and not much else. Her car keys went in the other pocket, but her other keys had stayed behind in her purse, along with her phone. She was so used to wearing her suits to work that she'd nearly forgotten how ridiculous pockets were in other women's clothing... Or, more accurately, if she remembered where she'd bought this outfit, in little girls' clothing.
She didn't love that she could fit into children's sizes, and she would never have admitted that to anyone, but, a lot of the time, they actually fit her better than anything from the grown-up section... And now and then, there was something cute there that wasn't too childish. Her biggest fear, however, for years, was that she was going to go out with her friends in one of those outfits, then run into a kid dressed in the same thing. That would be absolutely mortifying... It hadn't happened yet, thank goodness, and, while it would be a blow to her ego, at least today she was alone, so nobody she knew would realize the truth about her clothing sizes.
She fished the keys out of her pocket and opened up the trunk, pulling out her purse and rummaging through it. She was confident her driver's license was in there, but the further she dug, the less evidence she could find that they were. Her heart pounded as she searched harder and harder, wondering if, somehow, someone had broken into her car and taken it out... But why would they leave everything else? Her purse looked exactly the same as always, just without her ID case.
Had she put it back in her purse? In her rush to leave, it was very possible - likely, even, given what she was seeing now - that she hadn't remembered to grab it. "You've gotta be kidding me," she rolled her eyes.
She almost got into her car and went off to find something else to do, but that would be admitting defeat... If she didn't show up at the ticket booth again, that dumb teen would 'know' that she was a kid trying to sneak in, and if he happened to be working the next time she went to the movies, even with a driver's license, he might assume it was a fake...
She ought to be able to argue her way out of this, to convince him that she was more than old enough to see whatever movie she wanted; she was a lawyer, after all. Every tactic she could think of to do that with, however, fell flat as she ran through it in her head. She could point out that she had a credit card of her own, but without her ID to show that it really was her, it wasn't like the kid knew it was her card, and not her mother's. She had pictures of herself looking far more mature on her phone... Not only did she not have anywhere to put her phone during the movie, other than stowing it in the possibly disgusting drink holder on the arm of her seat, assuming nobody sat right beside her and wanted to use it, he could also easily say the person in the pictures was her mom, not her.
Having left her phone behind again, she didn't even have the website to look up what other movies were playing. She'd seen this one, decided on it, and that was that... Now, she had to slowly walk past the posters and see what was showing at the same time, and that wasn't rated R, so that, when she got back to the ticket booth, she could say, "I changed my mind," and ask for a ticket to a PG-13 movie instead.
"Good choice," he winked. "But are you sure you're old enough for that?"
"Are you serious?!" Brigid crossed her arms, ready to launch into a fit. There was no way he thought she was younger than 13! She might look young, but she didn't look THAT young! Then she saw him smirk, realized he was making fun of her, and that she'd done exactly what he wanted. "Very fun," she glowered, shoving her credit card at him. "Can I have the stupid ticket?"
The movie she'd chosen didn't look bad, even if it wasn't what she'd originally wanted... After that, however, she decided she deserved to see whatever she wanted. She went to the refreshment counter to buy herself some popcorn and soda, then, not feeling guilty at all, slipped into the theater showing the R-rated movie while the usher was looking the other way.
Her heart was beating fast as she walked in, looking around for a seat. It hardly counted as breaking the law - the theater was still getting its money, even if the makers of this movie weren't - but she felt a rush as if she'd just pulled off a huge heist. She settled into her seat, setting down her soda on one side of her, digging into her popcorn, looking up at the ads playing on the screen with a sense of accomplishment settling over her...
"Excuse me, can I see your ticket?"
She squirmed, glancing over to see the usher standing there, hand out expectantly. "I-I think I threw it away," she fibbed.
The usher raised an eyebrow. "Did you? That's funny, because I got a warning that someone who matches your description might try to sneak in here... That's an awfully big coincidence, don't you think?"
How had the guy from the ticket booth had time to do that?! The sight of a walkie-talkie on the usher's hip answered that question, and made Brigid even more furious that she'd been out-smarted yet again. "I guess so," she shrugged, trying her best to play it off. "I hope you find them."
"Come on," the usher rolled his eyes. "Just go back to your screen."
"This is it!" she insisted. "I don't know why you're hassling me, but if this keeps up, I'm going to speak to the manager, and..." She winced, almost glad when the usher didn't let her finish. She hated doing that sort of thing, the words tasting sour on her tongue as they came out; there were times when it was necessary, however.
"And I'm sure she'll be happy to ban you for life," the usher told her. It was, probably, an empty threat, or at the very least one that she could un-do with a visit down here in her normal clothes, with her ID... That wasn't a trip she really wanted to make, though, any more than she wanted to have to go all the way into the city to go to the movies from now on.
"Fine," she gave up, hopping down off her seat and gathering up her snacks. "Whatever."
She was escorted out like a naughty child, the usher taking her right to the other screen and going inside with her, watching as she selected her spot and sat down, as if he didn't trust her. She was certain everyone else in the theater was watching, wondering what was going on, probably giggling at the little girl who hadn't been able to get to her seat on her own.
Thankfully, once the lights went down, it didn't matter anymore, as she could hide in the darkness, and trust that, by the time the movie was over, everyone would have forgotten all about what they'd seen beforehand. It certainly helped her, although all it took was one glimpse at the guy at the ticket booth on her way out to remind her, and make her feel small again.
The feeling stuck with her through the rest of the day, as she grabbed some food from a drive-through, did a little window shopping, always worried that someone else was going to mistake her for a kid, question her choices, ask her where her Mommy was... She had planned on staying out as late as possible, to show Pat that she didn't care about her stupid curfew, but her confidence was shaken enough that she was home long before 7.
"Welcome back," Pat was waiting at the door, smiling. "Did you have fun today?"
"No," Brigid pouted.
"Oh." Pat was taken aback by that for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that, Brigid. Is there any way I can help?"
Brigid wanted to yell at her, to tell her that it was all her fault for picking out this stupid outfit for her... But, really, she knew she only had herself to blame. She didn't have to wear this, didn't have to keep it on when she decided to go out, didn't have to forget her license so she couldn't prove she was an adult...
She sighed, shook her head. "No, I'm just in a bad mood."
"Would you like some ice cream?" Pat asked.
It was a childish solution, especially after the day she'd had... It did sound good, though. "Sure," she nodded. "Why not?"
"Good," Pat smiled. "Normally, I wouldn't want you to ruin your appetite, but it's far enough from supper."
"It's my ice cream," Brigid's mood darkened again. "I can eat it whenever I want."
Pat didn't reply, which was probably for the best. By the time they got to the kitchen, there was already a fancy sundae waiting for her, with hot fudge, whipped cream, chopped nuts, and a cherry on top, which was more than enough to soothe her anger for at least as long as it took her to eat it. And, after the tub of popcorn, and the big, greasy fast food lunch she'd ordered, she had to admit that it did spoil her appetite. When Pat announced a little later, while Brigid was curled up on the couch, attempting to read a book - or not fall asleep while she stared at the pages, anyway - that it was time for supper, she groaned.
"I think I'm good," Brigid shook her head.
Pat's hologram stood there beside her, staring down at her disapprovingly. "I knew I shouldn't have let you have ice cream."
"You didn't let me do anything," Brigid informed her. "This is my house, and I do what I want!"
Except, of course, that she didn't. When she gave up on her book and switched on the TV, it was still stuck on the kids' channels. "Pat, where is everything else?" she demanded.
"This is everything that is appropriate for you," Pat said.
"No, it's not!" Brigid fumed, still frustrated at being denied her movie, only to now be restricted to even more immature entertainment. "Pat, fix the TV now!"
Pat tilted her head. "I don't know what you mean, Brigid. There's nothing to fix."
"Pat!" Brigid glared at her. "Fix it now, or I'm going to march into your control room right now and turn you off!" Pat stared at her calmly, showing no signs of fear, or concern, which just made Brigid more annoyed. "Do you not believe me?" Brigid asked. "I'll do it!"
Pat still didn't react, prompting Brigid to get off the couch, stomping her way to the hall, flinching when she turned the corner and Pat was standing right in front of her, despite her having not seen the 'woman' move from her spot by the sofa. Of course, she was just a hologram, so it wasn't like she had to move the same way Brigid did... She could simply appear wherever she wanted, or needed, to be.
"Maybe you should go to bed," Pat suggested. "I think you've had a hard day, Brigid, and you need some rest."
"I need you to stop telling me what to do," Brigid stormed through Pat, remembering how the hologram's hand had passed through her. Sure enough, no matter how solid and real Pat had looked, there wasn't really anything there, anything to stop Brigid.
Another Pat appeared in Brigid's path, arms folded over her chest. "I know it isn't your bedtime yet, Brigid, but..."
"I don't have a bedtime!" Brigid plowed through her again, and once more before she got to the control room door, only to be reminded that the last time she'd been there, it was locked. "Unlock it," she ordered.
She could hardly blame Pat for not doing it, given the threats Brigid had made; she was just hoping that she wouldn't be able to ignore a direct order, as if that wasn't the whole reason Brigid was doing this. "Fine," she shrugged. "I'll do it the hard way!"
When she went to her toolbox, however, to fetch the screwdriver she'd used to open the panel that had helped her unlock the door the first time, it was gone. "Pat, where are my tools?"
"You don't need those," Pat told her. "I was afraid you'd hurt yourself on them, so..."
"You can't take my things, Pat!" Brigid growled. "Give them back!"
"Brigid, this behavior is only making me more certain that you need an early bedtime," Pat lectured her. "Or a time-out."
Having seen the way the house could absorb things into its floors, and knowing it had some system of making things move around, Brigid was smart enough not to warn Pat until she had her purse - ID holder back in its rightful place - of her plan. "I'll just go buy a new screwdriver, then!" she huffed, reaching for the door. Before she could reach it, something heavy and metallic slammed down in front of the door, blocking it completely.
"H-Hey!" Brigid took a step back, eyes wide, letting her see the same thing happen to the windows in the living room, hearing the same clangs echoing through the house as she was sealed inside. "P-Pat, what are you doing?"
"I told you, Brigid," Pat said, standing behind her with a smile on her face, "It's bedtime... And I have some adorable new PJs I picked out just for you, waiting in your bedroom. Why don't you go try them on for me?"