"Good! Then let's go have fun, eat all their food, and then win fifty bucks off them rich snobs!"It was just two evenings later that my sister snuck up on me in my room. I'd already brushed teeth and was thinking if I wanted to grab something to read in bed for a little while. I was just standing there, and suddenly she popped up behind me. "Time for a fitting," she announced."A what?" A fitting," she turned and went to her room and back, returning with my finished tunic, except it was inside out."Is it done?" I asked in amazement."Close, but I want to do a final fitting before I sew the finished seams."I just stood there. "Ahem," she declared, tugging at my hoody, "you need to lose this." Can I keep my t-shirt on?" Of course! You'll be wearing your green t-shirt underneath this." She tugged the tunic over my head and let me wrestle my way into the armholes. As she tried to pull it fully down, she got a dissatisfied look. "Your jeans are way too lumpy." My jeans were getting a little. Still, as flights go, it was okay; I had a vacant seat next to me, so I could spread out. The food was passable, and as soon as dinner was over, and the lights turned out, I wrapped the blanket around me, put the headphones on and selected the classical music channel, and tried to sleep.Not that sleep was really possible, of course – contorted into the seat, the sounds of the engines, and announcements from the attendants, other passengers getting up and moving around. I guess I got a few hours sleep, somewhere over the Pacific, and then I tried to freshen up in the bathroom – a shave and a cat lick wash – removing my shirt and using a damp cloth to wipe over my face, chest and underarms. I wanted to make sure I was at my most presentable for Heather.I collected my suitcases, and then it was to the customs inspection. Not that I was expecting any problems there. Nothing to declare – and I was through in less than fifteen minutes, walking out to the arrivals hall, scanning the waiting.
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