Charon's Crossing

Matthew took her

plate, tipped her eggs onto his, and smiled at her. "So tell me," he said, "why haven't you time to do much cooking?"

"Well, my job keeps me busy."

"Ah. Another sign of gender equality, hmm?"

"Uh huh. Most women work today."

"At what?"

"At everything. Some are waitresses, some work in offices. There are women lawyers and doctors..."

"Doctors? Female doctors? Do they have men as patients?" When Kathryn nodded, Matthew grimaced and pushed his empty plate aside. "I don't know if I approve of such a thing."

She laughed. "I'm sure my internist—my doctor—will be heartbroken to hear that."

"Is that what you are?" he asked warily. "A physician?"

"Would it upset you if I were?"

Matthew sighed. He rose from the table, got the coffee pot and filled their cups.

"Aye," he admitted, "I suppose it would. The thought of you touching another man..." He sighed again. "But, I suppose, if that is the way of your time..."

Kathryn reached across the table and linked her fingers through his. All her feminist leanings told her that his jealousy was wrong, but her heart enjoyed everything about it.

"I would never touch another man as I've touched you," she said softly.

Her words were like fire in his blood. The promise was all he could ever wish for, but he could not accept it from her. There would be someone else for her, there would have to be, for she could not be his and both of them knew it.

"Nay," he said, forcing a smile to his lips, "I would surely not permit you to saw off a limb of mine or dose me with salts."

Kathryn laughed. "You'll be happy to know the practice of medicine's changed quite a lot, over the centuries—and even happier to know I'm not a physician. I'm in computers."

"In what?"

"Comp..." She took a breath, then blew it out. "Computers are machines. People use them to do all kinds, of stuff."

"What kinds of 'stuff'?"

"Writing letters and books. Working out mathematical problems. Drawing up plans for buildings. And for ships, I suppose. Anything you can think of, really. What I do is create programs for stock brokerage firms and..." She looked at his puzzled face. "Are you sure you want to listen to all this? It's going to take a long time to explain."

He smiled, but his eyes were narrowed above the smile. "I am capable of comprehending whatever you tell me."

"Oh, Matthew, I didn't mean—"

"Nay," he said, leaning forward and clasping her hand, "nor did I. Forgive me, sweetheart, I don't mean to be sharp-tongued. It's just, well, I see that the world has changed more than I'd realized." His hand tightened on hers. "Kathryn? We did win the war, did we not?"

He'd asked the question in an almost casual way, but the look in his eyes guaranteed that that wasn't how he felt. Her heart went out to him. How awful it had to be, to wake up in a world you didn't know.

"Nobody won it, really. I suppose you could say it ended with honor on both sides."

"Did we regain freedom of the seas?"

She nodded. "Yes."

A faint smile curled across his lips. "Are the United States and Great Britain still enemies, or have we patched up our differences and become allies as English-speaking nations should?"