Page 27 of Time for You
“Assuming your father is alive, that would be his responsibility,” Henry replied dryly. “And it’s not that I didn’t follow. I just don’t see why it changed so drastically. Things worked fine as it was.”
“Do you honestly think that the women in your life appreciate you making all the decisions for them?”
“It’s my duty to look out for their welfare.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Daphne countered. “Do your mom and sisters like that you run their lives?”
“They appreciate my concern. I handle worldly issues, while they’re allowed to immerse themselves in the home.”
“Okay, but you said one of your sisters would have wanted to be a doctor, right?”
“Anne has a sharp and inquisitive mind and an interest in healing, yes.”
“But you wouldn’t let her go to med school, even if she could?”
“It’s irrelevant. She can’t.”
Daphne swallowed a screech. “Humor me. Pretend she could. Would she?”
“I would be concerned that it might be too much for her,” Henry replied.
“That’s not an answer.”
Henry fixed her with a look. “You’re going to argue with me about my answer.”
“Meaning no, you wouldn’t let her.”
“Correct,” he sighed, apparently giving in to the argument. “I would not allow her to go to medical school. There are things that, no matter how different your time is, I think are simply too difficult for women to handle. Not intellectually,” he said, clearly foreseeing her next argument. “Simply that a woman is built for nurturing, not cutting people open.”
“That’s just offensive.”
“I’m sorry, my lady. I am simply explaining the truth as I see it.”
“For one thing, I don’t care if it’s the truth as you see it—you’re wrong. Your mother and sisters might beusedto you running their lives, but I promise you they don’t enjoy it.”
“I know them, however,” Henry countered. “You have never met them.”
“True, but I knowpeople. And no one likes having their brother or son run their life, okay? They might beusedto it, but I promise, if they had another option, they’d take it.”
Henry looked at her, blinking. “You seem very certain.”
“I am. I might not know a ton about history, but I do know that life for women was pretty shitty until relatively recently.”
He sat quietly on the couch for a moment, the silence stretching long enough that she got uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve given me a lot to consider,” Henry said.
“Okay, you know what? We should wash your other set of clothes,” Daphne said, mostly to get herself out of the conversation. It was easier if Henry was deliberately being a misogynist, rather than simply not knowing any better. She didn’t want him tolearn; she wanted—well, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. “And if you’re going to be here, you should learn how to use the washing machine.”
“You have a device that washes machines?”
Daphne glared at him, annoyed when she almost cracked a grin as he looked at her evenly. He was fucking with her, she knew, but that didn’t make him any less frustrating overall. “Laundry, motherfucker,” she said, going extra vulgar just to startle him and prove he wasn’t getting the better of her. “It does laundry.”
“Your century really does have a machine to replace every servant, don’t you?”
“Mostly, yeah.”
Henry picked up his bundle of clothes from near the door. Daphne pulled open the closet door that led to their washer and dryer, and watched him eye it warily. It was interesting, which technology interested and delighted him (plumbing, the toaster, everything to do with the kitchen)and which he found suspicious (cars mostly, but apparently also washers and dryers).
