John Erik Smith-Perez took a mouthful of coffee for fortification and pressed the intercom buzzer. "Sam?"
"Yes, Professor," came the secretary's cool voice, "they are all here. Shall I send the first one in?"
"Give me a minute more." he shut off the intercom.
How he hated having to go through this one more time. Still, the sooner done, the better; it was no picnic living without a wife. Sighing, he plucked at his right earring and fiddled with the gold chain around his neck. Smith-Perez liked to go through his nervous mannerisms in private.
The first applicant was mature, just sixty-five according to the data the computer screen showed the professor. Lee, Chris by name and with good references. Chris wasn't unattractive either, a sturdy brunette with bright blue eyes.
"Please be seated." He tried a friendly smile to hide his unhappy state.
"Thank you." She wasn't very graceful.
"Well," he made a pretence of scanning the monitor again, "you have been told what we require?"
Chris Lee nodded and not a hair fell out of place. She began to tick off items on her fingers. "The standard wife contract, so the agency said. You have a four bedroom condo, one of which would be mine. I would have use of the kitchen, the study, the family room, the laundry facilities and one of the three baths. There is a domestic robot I will be able to utilize for heavy work. I would also be responsible for one child, a male, aged thirteen; this would include supervising his deportment, school attendance, school work, and any appointments made by or for him. In addition, I must maintain the household schedule, and be prepared to entertain outside guests. I get a two-week vacation every six months and double pay for work done on the holidays. Have I missed anything?" Chris' smug look indicated that she was sure she had not overlooked anything at all.
"Yes, well," he was embarrassed, "Nicki, the child, has been difficult of late."
"I noticed something in the agency file."
"He's been somewhat rough on our wives so far. To be honest, since the original left us three years ago, we've had ten contracted wives."
"That many?" She didn't sound overly surprised.
"Also, there is the matter of a second child."
"Ah." Now Chris smiled. "I think that you'll find me quite amenable in that area. For the extra pay, of course."
"Of course."
"Prof. Smith-Perez, I do have one question to ask of you. I noticed that you have a dog in your household. Would I have to be responsible for the animal?"
"Well, it is supposed to be Nicki's responsibility, but you know how children are... you may have to-"
Abruptly, she stood. "No. I hate dogs." And Chris walked out of the office.
"Glad to have met you too," he muttered and buzzed Sam for the next applicant.
By 4:45 he was cursing the government that had outlawed the use of androids in professions requiring "interpersonal contact". It kept unemployment down but an untemperamental wife would have been a nice change. So far the post had been refused by four applicants because: there were no gym facilities available in the apartment, he would not pay for cosmetic surgery (a total body renewal!), duties required an early rising, and vacation pay did not include the cost of off-world travel. He had rejected the other applicants because he would not allow the wife of his household to be drug-addicted, a member of the Free Sex with Minors Sect, a keeper of birds - two hundred of them - a practitioner of voodoo nor a cured psychopath. As a Professor of Philosophy, Smith-Perez knew it took all kinds to make the world but Nicki was his child and that made all the difference.
Only one more to go.
His first thought on seeing Clark, Pat H. was "too young". The computer confirmed it; a mere thirty years of age but the references were exceptionally good. So was Pat's appearance; an open, sunny face, some freckles, light hair and a warm smile. Still, too young.
"Please," Smith-Perez began in a voice rough with impatience.
"That bad, huh?" Even the voice was pleasant.
"Yes, it has been."
A sympathetic nod. This one had no nervous gestures. "I've read the file, Professor, and think this a good situation. The boy is a bit restless I understand."
"He's driven ten wives out of the house."
"And the first one?"
"She had an offer of marriage on the lunar colony."
"What a coincidence! My original family left because of a job contract there. I'm claustrophobic and couldn't take the colony. I do miss them."
Time was short, he had no time for niceties, might as well find the worst out immediately. "A second child?" Smith-Perez almost challenged.
"How nice!"
"A dog?"
A worried look now crossed that pleasant face. "I've a dog of my own, a small poodle. I had hoped to bring it along, but two dogs in one household would be a problem I guess."
Smith-Perez didn't stop to think. "It would be great. No problem at all."
"Tremendous. And no problem with my three times a week at the fitness centre?"
"Of course not. The contract guarantees you two hours daily on your own."
"A deal then! I'll be in by the week's end and we'll do the first month as a pre-contract trial. But I'm not worried. I think we'll work out fine."
A sigh of relief was all he could give when Sam checked with him on the intercom. And, "Call the Shuttle Port."
Almost instantly, the computer lit up with the message: "The Commissioner is busy at the moment; will you call back or will you hold the line?"
"I'll wait," he informed it and Classical Beatles came on.
A few minutes later he was startled by "Well?"
"I think that I've found us a perfect wife and that this one will stay!"
"Wonderful!" said Commissioner Gabriel Perez-Smith. "I was becoming so worried with Nicki at the sitter's and the house such a mess."
"I know, I know, dear. But I do have a good feeling about this one and I don't think we'll have to worry anymore."
An alarm went off, notice of a problem that demanded the Commissioner's personal attention. "No! Someone has just tried to dock their ship through the hull of the Port's gallery. I must go, tell me the rest when I get home. If I get home." Blowing a kiss, she signed off.
John Erik Smith-Perez leaned back in his chair and hummed a happy tune. It had turned out well. He felt a bit as must have had his great-grandfather or great, great-grandfather: he has sought long and hard, weighed advantages and disadvantages, judged on pleasant looks and unspoken feelings and he had successfully contracted a wife. He'd restored the family to it's proper form: spouse, spouse, wife and child. Children! Maybe now he could convince Gabriel to have a second child. Pat seemed perfectly suited for the job: he would be the perfect wife and mother.
The author wishes to say that she feels this story should be interesting to feminists because (out of an admittedly extremely limited sample) all the females who read it found the ending extremely predictable and all the males found it a surprise.