The God Particle by Richard Cox Read Free Book Online Page B

hit their intended target. He fires too soon, he uses missiles when simple guns would do the trick. She’s sitting next to him, and she seemed genuinely interested in speaking with him, and he’s made no progress with her whatsoever.
    “So how do you like being an anchor?” he asks. “As opposed to reporting?”
    “Reporting puts you in contact with a lot of incredible people,” Kelly says. “I miss that. But it’s stressful chasing lights and sirens. Sitting at the anchor desk is a nice change.”
    “Instead of being so close to the tough stories?”
    “Sometimes I felt like a personal injury lawyer, you know? Chasing down accidents and murders and stuff. Except I couldn’t offer the promise of million-dollar legal settlements.”
    So here they are, descending into the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, and it’s time to put up or shut up. It’s time to avoid all the trite bullshit he might normally say in this situation and come up with something that will sound natural. That will sound like he hasn’t been worrying about this window of opportunity since the moment he saw her. He must force himself to ask for her phone number—but not here, of course, not where the other passengers will hear him. He’ll do it after they deplane, during their stroll through the terminal.
    A couple of men flash Mike knowing looks as everyone stands to gather their carry-on luggage. The elderly woman glances at him briefly, her look as severe as the blue suit she’s wearing. Mike wonders how much of the conversation she overheard.
    Passengers shuffle toward the exit, and Mike finds himself separated from Kelly by the woman in the severe suit. He doesn’t think anything of it until the old woman stops to chat with a flight attendant, blocking the aisle and allowing Kelly to continue onto the jet bridge alone. Mike watches her go, blonde hair bouncing behind her as she strides away. The elderly woman seems to know this flight attendant, a tired-looking redhead, and shows no sign of ending her conversation. Passengers back up like floodwater behind him.
    Finally the elderly woman moves on, slowly, and Mike waits for an opening so he can dart past her. But he knows Kelly will already be long gone, off the jet bridge and perhaps disappearing into the river of airport patrons and—
    And she’s standing just around the corner, waiting for him.
    “I thought you’d be long gone.” He smiles.
    “I couldn’t spend two hours talking to you and then not say good-bye.”
    They march off the jet bridge and into the terminal, making small talk as the moment approaches. Mike knows it’s coming. He feels himself shying away from it.
    She brushes against him once or twice as they walk through the terminal. Maybe she’s cueing him with nonverbal communication. Maybe her laptop bag is heavy. And he’d better say something quickly, because here comes the door to baggage claim, the place where she’ll bid Mike good-bye and go back to her news anchor job, and he’ll probably never see her again.
    “You know,” he says. “If you like Twain, if you’re looking for truth, you should read
Letters from the Earth.
There are some essays in it that are similar to what we talked about on the plane.”
    “Letters from the Earth,”
she says. “Okay. I’ll pick it up.”
    Mike presses on. “I also wanted to say that I enjoyed talking to you on the plane. It was really nice to meet you.”
    “It was nice to meet you, too,” Kelly replies. “I enjoyed learning about the particles.”
    The moment is upon him. Say something now or regret it later.
    “So anyway,” Mike finally says. “I know you must get this all the time, being on television and all, but do you think I could call you sometime? If I had more time, I think I could get you to respect the photons.”
    Kelly abruptly stops walking. She shoots a glance at the door to baggage claim and then looks back at Mike.
    “That’s very nice of you, Mike. Really. I enjoyed talking to you, too. But