The colleague pointed at the computer screen. “I still have trouble believing that robot is so small, and I’ve been working here for years.”
“Smaller than a human hair. There are days when I have trouble believing it myself.”
Dr. Shoo reached for the phone and hit zero. “Legal, please.”
*****
Shelly and Nick arrived in Gainesville on a beautifully clear and sunny Friday. On Saturday, the annual Blue-Orange spring football game would fill the stadium with avid fans hoping this year’s squad could bring home another National Championship like the team back in 1996. As they drove by Florida Field on the University campus, television trucks were already setting up.
“Look! There! The Zone,” Shelly said. The Zone was a nickname for the Gator Football stadium.
Nick slowed and pulled into a rare open parking spot.
“Why is it called The Zone?” Nick asked as they got out of the car.
“Like ‘be in the zone.’ To be focused on winning. It’s a sports thing.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I was able to stop in time,” Nick said. She
watched him roll his eyes.
They walked toward Barry’s office in Newel Hall, a 1909 brick building that also housed Barry’s medical lab and classroom. Shelly stopped them at the entrance, turned to Nick, rose on her toes, and wrapped her arms around his neck, then kissed him full on the lips.
“Like the Zone now?” “I do. A lot.”
They entered the building through a twenty-foot-high glass- inlaid door. The sounds of students echoed through the halls. Shelly knocked softly on a half-open wooden classroom door.
A second later it swung open. “Dr. Shelly White!” Dr. Barry Hayes exclaimed. He wrapped his arms around her in giant bear hug. “I miss you, girl!” He stepped back. “Look at you! You look stunning.”
Nick waited his turn to be introduced formally.