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Shaun grins up at her, cooing excitedly. Olivia bounces him on her knee and listens to Codsworth polishing the countertops, humming as he does so.
A breeze rolls in through the front door, warm and smelling like the roses her next door neighbors tend to; a young couple who occasionally babysat Shaun before she got Codsworth. Being a single parent can be difficult, but she knew that taking a donor and not actually marrying anyone would have had its consequences. Still, the entire neighborhood is supportive. Everyone is; that’s the beauty of America she supposes, the open mindedness.
Shaun squeals and tugs at her hair, still curled and damp from the shower.
She presses the tip of her nose to him with a soft giggle that sounds too girlish for her. “Well big guy, you’ve got my full attention.”
He presses small, chubby hands to her cheeks and pulls and pinches.
The radio in the back crackles with an unfamiliar woman’s voice. The words are too soft to hear, but the rhythm barely heard in the background seems familiar.
“Who’s mommy’s best guy?” She whispers conspiratorially to Shaun who burbles half-tried near-words at her. “That’s right. You.” She kisses his nose, his ear. “You are my best guy. The only guy in the whole world for me.” She kisses his forehead and remains curled over him like that, breathing him in. He smells of milk, of her, and the smell only babies ever have; a sweet, soft smell that reminds her of spring and scentless flowers and clean water.
Say nighty night and kiss me
She leans away and opens her mouth to ask Codsworth to bring her a bottle to feed Shaun - she’d pumped earlier so she'd be able to spare herself for Shaun's growing needs as he begins teething - and Shaun giggles and presses against her chest - the breeze outside continues to roll in and she hears Ms. Rosa’s boy laugh and fly his kite in the street - the bustling of her neighbors calling greetings to each other -
Just hold me tight and tell me you miss me
Olivia freezes. Shaun’s babbling seems far off, quiet in an unnatural, eerie way. Codsworth is no longer humming. The sounds of the neighborhood are muted. Ms. Rosa’s boy darts across the street without sound.
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Her throat closes and something in her chest convulses nearly violently. Codsworth is no longer in the kitchen. The breeze outside is hotter and doesn’t smell like roses, but carries the scent of oil and something bittersweet with a chalky sour aftertaste -
There are no other voices in the neighborhood and Ms. Rosa’s boy is nowhere to be seen. No one is. The houses all around her look dilapidated with strange posts set up around them strung over their tops is barbed wire, the cars are rusted out. Her own home is a stranger now too, filled with broken things, dust and grime and the chair she sits on is torn and old.
She can’t hear Shaun anymore, can’t feel his tiny fist in her hair or his face against her chest. She looks down and time feels as if it has slowed, sap rolling out of a tree, molasses out of a glass, honey out of a jar -
And -
Shaun is -
He -
Dream a little dream of me
Olivia opens her eyes and sees red decor beyond her prison cum sanctuary of the memory pod.
The pod hisses open and there stands Irma with a soft look on her face. “Hey there honey, how was it?”
Olivia doesn’t immediately move. She shuts her eyes briefly; for a moment she can still feel Shaun’s weight against her, the heavy feeling of milk in her chest, his voice, the world outside and the simple beauty she had always wished it had possessed. Everything she had ever wanted; a baby she could love, a society that loved and welcomed love in all its forms, to be a member of said society without the suspicious bigotry and jeers of her Commie-red blood - even if they always got her ancestry wrong. Just her and her baby, in a safe, quiet, understanding neighborhood; no husband, no flinty eyed members of the book club, clients who look at her and see her race instead of her accomplishments. Just her, and Shaun, and the world beyond them.
She breathes out and lets Irma help her up.
She leaves a sachet of caps on Irma’s chaise lounge. “Good as always.” She leaves out the part of the nightmarish ending. Irma worries for her enough as is. Besides that, and if she and Amari ever found out what it did to her after she left the pod and right before the fantasy was over, she can bet her ass they'd block her off from it.
Irma pats her shoulder, takes the caps and saunters to the backroom to lock them in the safe.
Olivia approaches Doctor Amari. “Ready for that report?” She’s all smiles, the same she’d give clients, her neighbors, Nate, her friends.
The doctor gives her a short nod. “I’ve noticed that since deploying the warning alarm, your heart rate increases. Without a warning system, pulling you out could cause damage, but it seems something may need to be fine tuned for a more...relaxed experience. I’ll need a detailed description about what happens during the warning sequence; not having one would mean an entirely too immersive experience in your subconscious but it’s worrying to see your vitals up so high.” She gives Olivia a look over the frame of her glasses. “And be candid, please. This purpose of the Dream Machine is for the temporary immersion of a virtual reality fantasy of the user’s choosing. Any adverse side effects, such as the fantasy carrying out beyond the pod must be discussed and dissected properly, and dealt with. I’d rather not have any bugs in this system that could potentially drive a person insane before I begin marketing it.”
Olivia sits down next to the doctor and laughs her off. She gives her the abridged version, edited to her liking. Amari is fascinated, jotting everything down.
Olivia can still smell milk and roses in the dusty air around her.