We were both in the town where we had first met. We had both returned there for whatever reason. I had to know how she was. I had to know if she cared how I was. We couldn't help seeing each other there in the center. It was too close and personal to hide from people there. It was several days later that we crossed paths in the hallway outside the cancer center. She was just leaving as I was arriving for an appointment for an infusion. At first she seemed stunned to see me. Then she slowly spread her arms and hugged me close as I enfolded her to me, as well.Actually, we were both crying, if you must know. Sitting down for a moment I took the time to let her know I was here, in town. I gave her my phone number. I had to get to my appointment. She slowly walked away down the hallway as I entered the center.That evening, after I returned to my studio apartment, she called my cell. I didn't recognize the number, but I knew it was her. It had to be her. "Hello, Gary. How did it go today?". Seeing her sari, choli and pavada, they commented. ‘How beautiful! All those hours we spent training Peter in the selection of saris were not in vain.’ ‘Now, as we are in saris, then so are you.’ They redressed her, with such careful attention to her hair and the folds of the shimmering fabric that as they swept across the hotel foyer all male heads turned to watch the progress of three sari-clad beauties parading to their transport. ‘Come on, let’s have some fun shopping,’ Jennifer smiled as she had waved Peter’s credit card before their eyes. ‘We’ll fix Peter and his surprises.’ There was no argument. At the beauty parlour, three young Indian women in white business dustcoats escorted them to a special room. The women waited for their three customers to strip and soak in huge tubs of hot, fragrant water before leading them to three massage tables. The three women had their hair and nails done followed by facials – the lot. They spared no expense with Jennifer signing the credit.
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