Dreams of a Robot Dancing Bee Read Online Free Page A

wait till you see this sucker. It’s a Victorian mansion, a quarter-million.”
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, Dan Jacobson, master of the manse, a teetotaler, father.
    I didn’t see Dan again, nor did I meet his famous Mary, untilthe wedding. It was an opulent affair in a fancy Episcopalian church. The bride and groom arrived in a white, stretch limousine. The vows had been written by the happy couple, a practice, I admit, I hold in low esteem. I don’t remember them now, but you know: “I promise to never raise my voice and to do the dishes every other night.” Everybody there was dressed to the teeth, and I didn’t recognize ninety percent of them anyway. Perhaps they had rented the congregation, a nice-looking bunch of stiffs if you ask me.
    The reception was the really expensive part. The catering alone must have cost ten thousand. I began to notice these things, I began to add them up in my head. I had nothing better to do because I barely knew anyone and, as it turned out, there was a good reason. They were all into this Herbalife, the miracle substance about which I still knew nothing. I expressly changed the subject whenever it was mentioned, and of course it was mentioned constantly. This whole crowd, maybe two hundred people, had all gotten rich off of it. And I watched Dan mingling with them. It was hard to take.
    After an hour or so of standing around by myself at the edge of an Olympic-sized swimming pool, Dan finally spotted me and brought Mary over for the introduction. He had said she was beautiful, and I suppose she was, but not to me. She had that dressed-for-success kind of smile that made me wonder if her teeth were sharp as razors. Her steel-blue eyes assessed my situation and dismissed me as not in her league, no Herbalife possibilities as either buyer or seller.
    â€œWe’re going to have the baby next May,” she said. “Dan cantake paternity-leave, he’s already checked that out. I can travel up to the eighth month, and I’ll stay home for six weeks after the birth. Got to get back out there on the road, there’s such a demand.”
    â€œSounds good,” I said. “I’m really happy for both of you.” Both Dan and Mary were drinking non-alcoholic champagne. I sipped a Coke to help celebrate this amazing union, but soon took French leave.
    Most of the old gang—Sal, Rick, Willy and Patrice—said they were happy for Dan, that he looked good, that he was really in love, that he had even gotten a hell of a good deal—but there had to be some suspicion, too. I mean the way it happened, overnight. Suddenly Dan’s in this mansion, suddenly Dan who we had seen put away enough vodka over the years to float a battleship, as they say. And also the baby. Yeah, Dan had a sentimental side, this was well known, but that Mary didn’t look too maternal to me. Her career came first, this was clear. She knew it could fall through any time, one year, two years, who can say how long these fads will last? And no retirement plan. Just grab what you can now while the dummy product is hot. She had already made a bundle, there was no denying that. And now Dan was living very well, thanks to her. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in his shoes.
    I was having a few beers over at Sal’s apartment about a month later when he hit me with some of the talk that was going around. “I’ve got at least three sources that say she’s into S&M. She was an alkie, too, you know, for years before she found the road to success. Strange woman. Do you think Dan can handle it?”
    â€œI don’t know nothing these days. Something doesn’t strike me as right, but maybe we’re all just jealous. Maybe they’re as madly in love as they say. She’s pushing forty-two, you know. She hasn’t got that much time, and her eggs are awfully well traveled, that’s all I’ll say. I wish them luck.”
    Sal was