vignette

Retirement was turning out to be more work than she’d thought. They had finished their retirement counseling in good time, had all their financial solutions in place, and now they had about three months left to decide where they wanted to live before they were required to move.

Everyone followed the same procedure and the retirement move was reporteded to be easy, but she had begun to think that was just a PR campaign on the council’s part. The initial process was fairly straightforward: they would each make a list of all the places they had worked and rank them according to how they enjoyed, or got along with, their co-workers. Then they would compare their lists and cull out the places which had people they absolutely would not want to be around until, finally, they would have everything distilled down to a minimum number of groups to decide between. After they made a decision, they would move to that planet, asteroid, moon, wherever, and live in the retirement colony associated with the group they’d chosen. Simple.

Well, it was supposed to be simple. But they’d been working on their lists for several months and it was turning out to be harder than she thought. Hopefully she wouldn’t start second-guessing herself, because she finally had her list down to two entries: the first was the surveyor’s group she’d worked with on the Beta Asteroid dig; the second was the interspacial-living group she joined on Histon 5, after her marriage.

She hadn’t spoken to Pad about his list yet. They weren’t supposed to influence each other and he hadn’t given her any indication he’d made any headway. Like a lot of things in their marriage, they had calmly put off making any decision, figuring that something would come along and help them make up their minds, like it usually did. But the waiting list for working housing was long and the time was slipping by -- they really needed to make a decision.

“Pad, how are you coming on your retirement location list?”

Pad looked up from the article he was reading on the latest solar sail design. She could see his mind changing gears from technical to domestic as she patiently waited for his answer. “Well, I’ve got it down to two. I suppose it’s getting on time to talk about it; do you want to do it now?”

She sighed. “I think we need to decide and there’s really no use in putting it off. The moderator asked me yesterday where we were going to move to, and you know that once they start asking, you better be ready to go.”

Lacy walked off to get her list as Pad thought about the move. He felt awful about deceiving her, but he’d been sworn to secrecy. He wasn’t really retired, wasn’t sure he’d ever be allowed to retire, but had been told to go along with things so no one would get suspicious.

Once they moved he was going to share everything with her. They’d always had a close relationship and he wasn’t going to make keeping secrets a habit. Besides, the mess he’d been assigned to keep tabs on was going to cause so many problems, it would be easier for her if she didn’t know anything until later. He needed her calm and clear-thinking. She’d never been good for much when she worried about him, and this job was right up there on the stress-o-meter.

She walked back into the courtyard with her list and sat beside him. The suns were setting, the evening birds were singing, and the night flowers were starting to open. “Pad,” she said softly, “I don’t think I want to be retired.”

“Aw, Lacy,” he said, putting his arm around her and drawing her close, “Things are going to be all right. We’ll find something interesting to do.”