Bhat was waiting at the airport, on the communicator, for the last hour. First, it had been his boss at the American Astrophysics Administration. He called to see if this Porliche Pang Brewthon was his wife and then to see what he knew about the discovery news that included her name. Following that call, the regional manager called and then the public relations and marketing chief, the space exploration liaison, the president of the association, and now the director of mission planning for the Joint International Space Exploration Consortium, JISEC. Bhat explained many times that he did not have much information but that he would have Porliche return the calls in the afternoon after she arrived. As he spoke, he scanned the crowd in the packed terminal, a sign indicating that her flight had arrived. The director was informing Bhat that he was taking a flight from the West Coast up to Yucatan early tomorrow to meet with Porliche soon after arrival, time being critical because there was considerable competition for a trip of this magnitude. Finances, grants, crew considerations, global scientific support, and other phrases flew by until Bhat spotted a familiar face on top of a pale yellow splotch of color. He quickly terminated the connection and waved. She ran through the crowd, a smile exploding on her face. His ecstasy soured into dread.
After a long embrace, he looked at her. “What is this?” he asked as he surveyed her.
“It’s the style over there,” she said.
“But, Por, where is your underwear?”
“In my handbag. Let’s go get my suitcase and get home. I am so happy to see you!” She stood excitedly on her toes and gave him a loud smooch. Passersby looked and smiled.
“I’m not real comfortable with what your wearing, Por.”
“It’s amazingly comfortable,” she responded, pulling his hand, trying to walk to the luggage ramp.
“Are you really OK wearing something so revealing? You’ve always been so—”
“I have been plain boring, Bhat—a student with her head buried in something or the other. Do I mind showing off my fat little figure? It’s an incentive to make myself look better. Besides, look around. I’m not the only one dressed like this.”
He stopped. “You’re not fat. There might be one or two women dressed like this, and they look like foreigners.” Anger salted his final phrase.
“It’s the fashion.”
“It makes me nervous.”
“Be nervous at the luggage area.” She pulled him again, and they walked off.
As they exited the terminal building, a photographer snapped a series of shots and asked if Bhat would step aside so she could get some pictures of Porliche alone. The photographer gave her unending compliments about her dress as the shutter clicked. On the way home, Bhat told her of the flurry of calls and showed her the list of people that requested a conversation. The first call she made, however, was to her professor, who was delightfully oblivious to the stir in the media. She was happy to hear that the trip was successful and looked forward to seeing something in writing. She then called Thaut Brewthon, who was pleased that his funding had resulted in a positive outcome. He was even more delighted because she had made a point of mentioning him and his waste company as principle supporters of the expedition.
Bhat carried the suitcase inside and tried to beam the call list to her handheld. She put his hand down. “I have missed you so much,” she said. She pulled his face to her lips and gave him the wettest, deepest kiss ever. “I am so ready and rarin’ to go.”
She kissed him hard again. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for days.” She jumped up on him, legs wrapped around his hips. Now looking down at him, she whispered, “I’m already halfway to heaven. Can you take me the rest of the way?”
“I think I have no choice.”
“There are always options,” she said as he backpedaled to the couch. He fell backward with her on top. After more smoochies, she stood. “Watch this,” she said as she grasped the bottom edge of her dress. In one smooth motion, she lifted her hand, and the dress flew off over her head. “Do you like the dress better now?” she asked as he smiled. Hyperventilating, he answered with a salacious smile and a come-hither motion of his index finger.