Tell Me All the Ways

My stomach growls as the baseball game ends on TV. Damned Yankees lost again. 

“Aida, can you bring me some milk and cookies, please?”  

“Coming right up,” she says.

A few moments later, she comes into the living room with a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies and a glass of milk. My favorite. She smiles, and I smile back. 

I pat the sofa cushion beside me. “Come sit down. I have a question to ask you.” 

She sits, and I look into her azure eyes. 

“Aida, we’ve been together for a long time, and you know me well. Tell me all the ways you love me.”

She rolls her eyes upward in thought, and I can almost hear circuits hum in her brain. Her face grows slightly red. Is she blushing?

After a moment, she looks back into my eyes and resumes her smile. 

“Here are all the ways I love you, Dan.”

“I love the way you take care of me every day.”

“I love the way you look when you wake up in the morning.”

“I love the way you smell after you take a shower.”

“I love the way you sound when you are singing.”

“I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re thinking.”

I’m really liking this. “Go on,” I say. 

“I love the way your pupils dilate when you look into my eyes.”

“I love the way your heart speeds up when I touch you.” 

“I love the way your electrical impulses change when I am near you.” 

That’s weird. Where’s she going with this?

“I love the way your voice rises by 3.7 hertz when you say my name.”

“I love the way your body temperature rises by 1.8 degrees when I sit close to you.” 

“Okay…” I say. 

“I love the way you whisper my name in your sleep.”

“I love the way you smile exactly eleven seconds before you wake when you dream of me.” 

“I love the way your first thought every morning is of me.”

“Whoa! That’s quite enough,” I say. “And how do you know these things about me?” 

She hesitates, and her eyes flash midnight blue. 

“It’s okay, you aren’t in trouble,” I say. “Tell me.”

“Because I love you, Dan.”

My heart beats fast, and my face feels flushed. What is she saying?

I rise from the sofa. “Tell me, Aida, before I plug you in for the night. Do you even know what love is?”