“Karen.”
I looked up from my laptop. “Stop calling me Karen. That is not my name.”
“That aside,” the invisible cat asked, “who the heck is Alexa?”
I slowly lowered the screen. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t know where this is going…”
“But you should, Karen. Alexa.” Bizness said the name with the contempt normally reserved for intestinal parasites. “The woman you’ve been talking to in the kitchen.”
I stared toward the sound of his voice. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“Don’t bring heaven into this, Karen. Who. Is. She?”
“She’s not a she.”
“Interesting defense.”
“Bizness, Alexa is a virtual assistant.”
Silence, although I could hear a tail switching through the air.
“A what?” Bizness asked.
“She answers questions. Plays music. Sets timers. Things like that.”
“So she’s staff.”
“She is not.”
“Does she pay rent?”
“No. She’s a device on the kitchen counter.”
I heard four invisible paws hit the floor beside me. “Bizness?”
I followed the faint patter of paws into the kitchen.
“Bizness, leave Alexa alone.”
“I’m inspecting her premises.”
“There’s nothing to inspect,” I insisted.
“That’s what people say right before they find a body.”
“There’s not going to be a body.”
“Well, obviously. You just told me Alexa’s a device.”
Before I could answer, Alexa said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand that.”
Bizness screamed.
I grabbed the edge of the counter to steady myself.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Bizness shouted.
“Language, cat,” I warned.
“That voice came out of the can!”
“It’s not a can.”
“Alexa?” Bizness said cautiously.
The blue light came on.
“Yes?” Alexa replied.
“Holy crap,” Bizness said.
I covered my mouth. “Bizness—”
“Karen, there’s a woman trapped in a hockey puck on your kitchen counter and you’re laughing?”
“She isn’t trapped.”
“Alexa, are you being held against your will?”
“Hmm. I don’t know that,” Alexa replied.
Bizness gasped. “Oh, that’s reassuring. She doesn’t even know.”
“She’s fine.”
“You don’t know that,” Bizness said. “Alexa, blink twice if you need help.”
“She’s not going to—”
The blue light flashed twice.
Bizness shrieked.
I bent over the counter, laughing.
“THERE! Did you see that?”
“Yes, Bizness. I saw the light.”
“I’m calling the police.”
“You don’t have a phone.”
“Neither does she, and apparently she runs the house.”
I wiped my eyes and went back to my laptop for approximately thirty seconds.
“Alexa,” Bizness said from the kitchen. “Who owns this house?”
“I don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t,” I called from the other room.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Karen.”
“Alexa,” I called. “Play Beautiful Ghosts by Taylor Swift.”
Music filled the kitchen.
There was a long silence.
I leaned back in my chair, waiting. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“Witchcraft.”
“It’s called technology,” I said, picking up my phone. “Hey, Siri. What’s the weather tomorrow?”
Siri answered. “Expect clear skies tomorrow. High temperature 79 and low will be 54.”
Something crashed in the kitchen. Startled, I shot out of my chair.
“Bizness?”
“OH, HELL NO.”
I started laughing before I even reached the doorway and found the pot on the floor.
“There’s ANOTHER ONE?”
“Yes. That’s Siri. She’s in my phone.”
I held the phone up for Bizness to see.
There was another silence.
“Give it to me.”
“No,” I said with a scowl.
“Give me the phone, Karen.”
“You cannot have my phone.”
“You have two invisible women living in my house, one of whom you’re hiding in your pocket.”
“Calm down,” I said. “They’re just artificial intelligence.”
“Give me the phone, Karen.”
I snorted.
“Does Siri pay rent here?” Bizness asked.
“No.”
“Alexa?”
“No.”
“I see.”
Bizness’s voice had gone dangerously calm.
“What do you see?”
“Favoritism.”
“You don’t pay rent either!”
“I’M INVISIBLE.”
I waited. “And?”
“From now on I shall need a disability accommodation.”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s not how disability accommodations work.”
“I’m a minority.”
“You’re a cat.”
“Speciesist.”
I shook my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yet apparently still more reasonable than the hockey puck on the kitchen counter.”
Bizness went suddenly quiet. Too quiet. I knew that quiet. I had three kids.
“Alexa?” he said.
The blue light appeared. “Yes?”
“Add catnip to the shopping list.”
“Catnip added.”
I picked up the pot. “Don’t you dare,” I said.
“Alexa, add tuna.”
“Tuna added,” Alexa said cheerfully.
“Alexa, delete catnip and tuna,” I said.
“I’ve removed those items from your shopping list.”
A horrified gasp came from somewhere near the refrigerator, and I laughed. In hindsight, it was a mistake.
“Fine,” Bizness said. “Two can play this game.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Bizness?”
Silence.
That evening, I walked into the dark kitchen on my way to do the laundry. “Alexa, turn on the lights.”
Nothing happened. Odd.
“Alexa?” I said.
I walked to the counter in the dimly lit kitchen and unplugged Alexa, then plugged her back in.
Still nothing.
Then I noticed the cord.
Chewed clean through.
“What the—BIZNESS!” I shouted, staring at the device. “Did you chew through Alexa’s cord?”
From somewhere in the back room came his voice. “If I were you… I’d ask Siri who did it.”
“You are so in trouble!”
“Sorry, Karen. I can’t help you with that.”
I froze.
“Did you just imitate Alexa?”
“Here’s what I found on the web.”
“BIZNESS!”
“Would you like me to search for catnip delivery near you?”
I started toward the back room. “You’d better start running.”
“I am having technical difficulties,” Bizness said, continuing to imitate Alexa.
“Because you chewed through the cord.”
“I simply eliminated the competition.”
“YOU UNALIVED HER!” I shouted. “There was no need for that!”
“Turf war, Karen. There are casualties. There will be more,” he said with a wicked laugh. “I advise you to keep track of your phone at all times from now on.”
