They exchanged numbers and within moments, Bette was watching Debbie’s expensive black suit glide out of the room. But this time, the shoulders were higher and the “Halle Berry”-esque head held a little prouder.

With a slightly crooked smiled, Bette’s walked away from the Martian sunrise and got back to work, her heels clicking on the shiny wooden flooring. Their conversation had been brief but laced with a sobering heaviness that followed Bette for the rest of the day.

She, like Debbie Lawrence, was a Daddy’s girl. And she missed her father.

That evening, as Bette changed into her pajamas and prepared herself for bed, her father’s smile flashed behind her eyes and she found herself missing the hearty sound of his rarely appearing laughter. It wasn’t long before she chewed her lip nervously and pulled a few strands of straightened hair behind her ear as she sat at the edge of her bed and waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line.

”Bette?” asked Melvin, his rolling baritone reaching across 2500 miles to reach his youngest daughter’s eager ears.

Though she hadn’t expected it, a rush of warmth eased through Bette’s body. She smiled softly as her eyes watered. ”Hi Daddy,” she finally whispered.

”Bette, are you alright?” he asked.

Bette sniffed and nodded to herself. ”I’m fine. I just…I just called to say hello.”

A gentle sigh, a small release of a tension ease across her lips as she uttered these words. They hung, suspended in space between father, daughter, and wireless telephony.

Melvin cleared his throat. Twenty-five hundred miles away, in his home office on the second floor of his now empty home, the stubborn father of two closed his eyes, relishing the sound of his daughter’s voice. He was still in his business suit, an expensive black tie hanging loosely around his neck. He’d been drinking a short glass of scotch and trying to understand why his division’s profit margins were suffering despite increasing sales and recent successes in cost cutting. The older man’s eyes had been heavy with fatigue, red lines tracing across the areas that should have been completely white. He’d been focusing on his laptop’s screen, studying spreadsheets and reports when his cell phone rang.