Flight to Paradise (Flight Trilogy, Book 1) (12 page)

Without breaking stride, she headed to her bedroom, peeling off layers as she went. Ridding herself of the uniform skin—like a molting arthropod—brought her one step closer to her real identity, rather than, “Oh Miss.” Down to her bra and panties, her thoughts focused on the wonderful feeling of immersing her tired body into a hot bath.

She adjusted the temperature of the running water. Steam rose from the tub, engulfing the bathroom in a cloud of mist. While the tub filled, she pulled the dirty items from her suitcase, removed her bra and panties, and placed them all in the hamper. Accompanied by soft music and a stress-relieving lavender candle, she felt the pieces of her world falling back into place.

She pinned her hair up, turned off the water and stepped into the tub. The warmth sent a soothing charge throughout her body, relaxing her down to her core. With only her head above water, she let her mind and body unwind with the soft music and stimulation of the pleasant fragrance.

I
hope
Ryan
is
happy
.
I
wonder
if
he
thinks
about
me
anymore
?

A side of her wanted to jump out of the tub and race off to Del Mar, find him and do whatever was necessary to convince him he couldn’t live another day without her. However, a safer, more practical boring side of her had released the idea of it all long before she ever stepped foot in California; trusting he would be happy with Miss Whoever.

Why
do
you
keep
doing
this
to
yourself
?
Get
over
him
.
You
know
he’s
over
you
.
And
besides
,
he’s
probably
married
by
now
.

She stepped out of the tub, toweled off, and applied a liberal amount of her favorite body moisturizing lotion over her smooth skin before slipping into her most comfortable robe and slippers.

Entering the den, she heard a whimper and spotted Bill waiting for her to return. “I’m coming, little buddy.” When she slid the door back, he ran in, hovering around her legs, following her every step.

She made a hot cup of herbal tea, took the mail and curled-up on the sofa. Bill jumped up beside her. Flipping through the assorted bills, an envelope with a handwritten address caught her eye. Seeing the name “Martha Mitchell” in the upper left corner of the envelope made her smile.

CHAPTER 19

A letter from Martha always cheered her up, but more importantly, Martha was her lifeline to Ryan. Although he had not responded to the letter she’d sent him back in May, he must know by now she was living in California. She had specifically mentioned in the letter that his mother would have her address after she moved. It was hard to imagine why he had waited so long to contact her. Hopefully, Martha’s letter would answer some of her questions. Her heart raced as she tore open the envelope.

Perhaps
he
is
on
a
multi
-
month
deployment
with
the
Navy
.
That
would
make
sense
why
he
hasn’t
contacted
me
.
Martha
would
know
.

She pulled the folded note from the envelope.

December
23
,
1983

Dear
Keri
,

I
hope
all
is
going
well
.
I
miss
you
.
I
wanted
to
write
you
as
soon
as
I
heard
.
Ryan
is
getting
married
…

She stopped. “Married? No!” Her throat tightened. Tears swelled in her eyes, burning, blurring her vision. She couldn’t hold it back. Consumed by the ache in her heart she burst out crying. The pain penetrated to the very center of her being, deep down to the most sensitive area of her life.

Why
,
God
,
why
?

Bill, close by her side, whimpered, releasing an occasional bark. The finality of the word “married” robbed her of all hope. Like a death, the possibility—the hope—of them ever being together was gone.

Several minutes passed before she could think clearly. Sniffling, she wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks. Bill sat up and placed his paw on her leg. She patted him on the head. “I’ll be okay, little buddy. At least I’ve still got you.”

Although Ryan had mentioned in his letter that he and “this woman” had
talked
about marriage, she remained in a state of denial that it would happen this soon, if ever. Questions flooded her thoughts.

Where
did
he
meet
her
?
What
kind
of
girl
is
she
?
Does
he
really
love
her
?

So many questions.

How
could
God
let
this
happen
?

She wanted to talk to Ryan, to ask him why, before he made a huge mistake. Nobody could love him the way she did. She wanted to understand.

It’s
just
not
fair
.

She refocused on Martha’s letter.

I
can
only
imagine
how
this
news
makes
you
feel
.
It
was
a
surprise
to
me
,
too
.
I
know
how
much
you
care
for
him
…

Reading the words…

I
know
how
much
you
care
for
him
…

…ambushed her emotions, causing her to burst out again. A fresh stream of tears raced down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, blinking to clear her eyes. She continued to read.

I
know
how
much
you
care
for
him
,
but
you
must
know
that
God
must
have
someone
better
for
you
.

She thought, how could Martha say God has someone better for me? She knows how much I love Ryan. She knows we were meant to be together. She continued reading.

The
girl
he
has
asked
to
marry
him
lives
in
San
Diego
.
I
have
never
met
her
.
This
is
the
first
I
have
heard
of
his
even
dating
her
.
He
has
not
been
in
contact
with
me
for
some
time
.
I
must
tell
you
that
I
received
the
news
with
mixed
feelings
.
I
tried
to
sound
happy
for
him
,
but
wondered
why
he
never
mentioned
this
girl
to
me
.
It
doesn’t
sound
like
Ryan
.

She sensed the hurt in Martha’s words.

Poor
Martha
,
she
must
be
disappointed
.

Ryan’s lack of communication probably hurt her more than the surprise announcement of his marrying a woman she’d never met.

The
wedding
is
set
for
Saturday
,
June
16th
,
in
San
Diego
,
at
the
Hotel
Del
Coronado
.

“June? That’s six months from now.”

One side of her said: There is still time. He’s not married yet. You can stop him. Go to him now while there’s still time.

The other side—the side she had grown to hate—said: He’s gone. Let him go. Be happy for him. There’s someone else for you. Get on with your life.

It was an emotional game of tug-of-war tearing at her heart, both sides pulling equally, keeping her from acting—unable to pursue Ryan and unable to get on with her life. Like a deer standing in the middle of a dark road, frozen, staring at the on-coming headlights of a Mac truck, unable to step aside; her dreams were about to be flattened forever. She read on…

I
want
you
to
be
there
with
me
.
I
know
it
will
be
hard
for
you
,
but
please
,
I
want
you
to
come
to
the
wedding
.
Do
it
for
me
.

I
love
you
,

Martha

How could she possibly watch the man she loved marry another woman? The image of the two of them standing at the altar, giving themselves to each other, made her feel abandoned and alone. She loved Martha and would do anything in the world for her, but how could she attend Ryan’s wedding?

She dropped the letter, buried her face in her hands and cried.

CHAPTER 20

The
Wedding

The
Hotel
Del
Coronado
,
San
Diego
,
California

Saturday
,
June
16
,
1984
—
7
:
15
p
.
m
.

Since hearing the news of Ryan’s engagement, Keri had written and mailed him five letters. He had either read the letters and trashed them, or never received them. She found it hard to believe none of her five attempts had reached him. If the letters had not been delivered, the post office would have surely returned them to the return address on the envelope.

By the time she’d written the third letter, it was obvious he must have received at least one of them, read it, and chosen not to contact her. Her last two attempts sounded more like desperate pleas—cries from her heart—telling him how much she loved him and needed to see him, or talk to him.

The daily struggle in her heart continued, tugging in opposite directions, one side telling her to go find him; the other side growing more embarrassed, regretting she had ever written the first letter. She knew he had loved her at one time, but if he still loved her, he would have contacted her. Time ran out.

Keri arrived at the Hotel Del Coronado alone. She wore a cute sleeveless mid thigh-length fitted dress. It was the only dress she owned that was black, and black was the only color she felt appropriate for the occasion.

She asked the concierge, “Can you direct me to the Mitchell wedding? I believe it is being held on Windsor Lawn.”

The concierge pointed toward the back of the lobby. “Just through those open doors and onto the patio. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

Perched on the patio, she gazed-out over Windsor Lawn extending from the beautiful Victorian hotel out toward the Pacific Ocean. The gathering of guests resembled a look-alike contest for the cast of the television soap series
Dynasty
, or
Dallas
. Women with their big hair, shoulder pads, and loads of sparkling jewelry, decorated the lawn in a colorful sea of fuchsia pink, sea green, purple, royal blue, and red.

Beyond the crowd were rows of evenly spaced white chairs atop a manicured green lawn; the Pacific Ocean in the distance. Potted pink hydrangeas hung from strategically placed stands. Then, her eyes followed a carpet of pink rose petals to the altar; the place where Ryan and Emily would soon be exchanging their vows. She imagined a magnificent sunset as they kissed their first time as husband and wife. It made her want to vomit.

What
am
I
doing
here
?

Her attention was drawn to an elderly woman in the crowd, waving both arms in the air, calling her name. It was Martha Mitchell. Keri felt comforted by her welcoming smile, but embarrassed by the attention of heads turned in her direction.

She left the patio and made her way through the crowd to Martha.

“There you are,” Martha said. “I am so glad you came. It’s been
too
long. Come here and give me a hug.” Martha’s unrestrained excitement caused those standing near to stop and observe, perhaps wondering why the groom’s mother was making such a fuss over her.

After a big hug, Martha took her hand and led her away from the crowd. She turned and faced Keri, looking into her eyes. She knew Martha had an unobstructed view of her broken heart. In a concerned tone, Martha asked, “How is my baby doing?”

Keri forced a slight smile. “I’m okay.”

Martha tilted her head down and lifted her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Really Martha, everything is great.” Silence followed. Martha just stared, as if she knew Keri was lying. “Okay, maybe it’s not
great
, but I’ll be okay, honest.”

“Have you talked with Ryan?” Martha asked.

Shivers ran up her neck at the thought of talking to him. “Today? Here?” She quickly glanced from side-to-side, checking to see if Ryan might be near. “No. Not yet…I mean no.”