[[HORRIFIC mistype in my response to "beautiful agony" yesterday--Eden is 8.5 CENTURIES older than Carver, not years. Sob. Have something about her + technology as proof.]]
"Ada did what?"
(more)
"She got hit by a car," Cora repeated. "She was crossing the street or something, but her memories are a little jumbled. She's on bed rest for a little while so I'll be switching in and out with her. That way she can still get some work done."
"You're going to visit her, then?" Eden asked.
"Of course. And you are too."
"What?"
"Your daughter. Is on bed rest. You are going to visit her." Cora's voice went steely. "No buts."
Eden was silent for a long moment. "My daughter was just placed on bed rest because of a mode of transportation that travels at fifty miles per hour, and you're asking me to board a mode of transportation that travels-- in midair, I might add-- at five hundred miles per hour?"
Cora sighed. "Mother, don't tell me you're technophobic."
She wasn't. She appreciated some forms of technology. She valued the technology that had brought upon this age, the "information age"-- the long line from the printing press to the internet-- and acknowledged that air travel had contributed to that.
But that didn't mean she had to get on one of the insane things.
"I'm not riding in an airplane," she said firmly.
"Yes, you are," Cora answered, just as firmly. "I'll fly with you if you'd like, but I'm not going to let you disappoint Ada by failing to show up. You two are at each other's throats enough already as it is."(less)
