Flight to Paradise (Flight Trilogy, Book 1) (20 page)

Giddy
up
cowboy
!

CHAPTER 31

With school complete, Rex flew back to California and insisted, without much resistance from Keri, they celebrate at
The
Cannery
—the location of their first date.

During dinner, the conversation centered on how their relationship had grown in ways neither of them had anticipated. She embarrassingly told him of her initial reluctance to date him but assured him of how thankful she was now that she had. He looked into her eyes and shared with her how attracted he had been to her from the moment he took her arm and walked her down the aisle at Ryan’s wedding.

Her heart raced the entire evening like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. She felt satisfied when she was with him, never wanting their time together to end.

While driving home from the restaurant, she felt a closeness to him she had not felt before. Thoughts concerning the future pushed into her mind. She fantasized about becoming Mrs. Rex Dean. She liked it.

Keri
Dean
.

Her body grew warm. She gazed over at him, wondering when, or if, the relationship would become more intimate. Up until now, the extent of their physical involvement had been limited to heavy kissing. Since Rex didn’t appear to be a run-of-the-mill horny guy looking for a one-night stand, a few subtle hints or flirtatious suggestions might be needed if she wanted the relationship to progress to the next level—something she’d been careful
not
to do, so far. Secretly, she hoped he would stay the night and make love to her.

After easing into the driveway, they sat for a moment. The silence aroused her. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It’s getting kind of late and I haven’t even unpacked.”

Maybe
he’s
not
ready
.
I’m
sure
he’s
tired
and
needs
some
time
alone
.

Rex opened his door. “Let me walk you to the door, and then I’d better head out.”

Before he left, he asked, “Are you off tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said, hopeful he would suggest they spend the day together.

“Great. I’ll give you a call.”

He sounded tired. She put her arms around him and pulled him close. “You must be worn out from training.”

“Yeah, it was exhausting…all that studying. But, the hardest part was being away from you. I missed you so much.”

She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “You are so sweet. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips. She felt his body up against her. The kiss grew as his hands explored her back. She wanted him more than ever.

She wanted to say,
Please
,
Rex
,
stay
with
me
tonight
.

If only she had the nerve to tell him how she felt.

CHAPTER 32

Dallas
,
Texas

April
1985

Emily blossomed during the eight months Ryan spent in New York. Within two months after he left, she’d risen from Sales Manager of one of Excalibur’s residential developments, to Director of Sales for the entire Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex area: eleven projects with over five-thousand residential units.

Her performance quickly gained the attention of both the management executives at Excalibur and their parent company in Atlanta. She attended monthly sales meetings in Atlanta and one national awards banquet, which included a ride on the corporate jet and a private dinner with the CEO of the parent company.

Two months before Ryan’s transfer back to Dallas, he and Emily signed the papers on their first home located in one of Excalibur’s better neighborhoods. They were able to buy it at a significant discount because of her employment with the company.

Although Ryan’s probationary salary paled in comparison to Emily’s six-figure paycheck, on his return to Dallas and after close scrutiny of their personal finances—which Emily had been managing while he was away—revealed frightening results. Where he had expected to see large surpluses, he instead found less than a thousand dollars in their checking account and numerous credit card balances totaling multiple thousands.

A closer examination produced pages and pages of charges for impulsive purchases: household furnishings, restaurant charges, fine-retail-clothing boutiques, and more.

She
must
be
banking
her
paycheck
in
a
private
account
.

In the days that followed, he learned that if he ever challenged her concerning their finances, she was quick to snap at him like a Rottweiler defending a prize bone. She’d made it perfectly clear, except for the mortgage payment, “The money I make is mine to do with as I please,” she would say.

With the financial problems came more heated arguments, killing any lingering hope of intimacy between them. Ryan felt like a cornered rat staring up at a coiled viper, its forked tongue darting in and out, testing the air as it prepared to strike.

The next strike came in the form of car payments. With multiple credit card accounts maxed to their limits and their checking account short on cash, needed auto repairs forced them to dump their older cars for two new ones—both financed.

Alone, he stared out the kitchen window.

A
beautiful
house
,
two
new
cars
,
and
good
jobs
.
Why
do
I
feel
broke
?

Any thought of saving for retirement or realizing his dream of starting a family—thanks to Emily and the tens-of-thousands of dollars of debt she’d accumulated—remained just that: a dream.

His only fragment of hope resided in the fact that within a few months he would complete his year of probation. The increase in his salary would allow him to manage the basic household expenses without Emily’s help.

He breathed an exasperating breath, exhaling slowly. With a sip of coffee and help from the refreshing rays of the morning sun, he surrendered to the circumstances of the life he had been dealt. After all,
How
could
it
get
any
worse
? Then the phone rang.

“Is this Ryan Mitchell?” asked the voice at the other end.

“Yes.” Placing his coffee cup down on the kitchen counter, he glanced at the digital clock on the microwave: 10:47. Emily had left for work two hours earlier.

“I don’t mean to alarm you. My name is Dr. Wilson. I’m your mother’s doctor, here in Atlanta.” The doctor’s voice was calm and professional. “She listed you as a medical contact.”

“Is everything okay?” Ryan asked.

“Your mother just left my office. Everything is fine. However, I felt prompted to advise you as soon as possible about your mother’s condition.”

“What kind of condition? I thought you said everything was fine.”

“She has been having trouble with her memory. Her supervisor at work encouraged her to make an appointment with her doctor. After meeting with your mother, I believe she has early signs of Alzheimer’s disease.”

“Are you sure?”

“You need to understand, there is no definite way to diagnose the disease,” Doctor Wilson said. “The only way to know positively is after a person dies. During the autopsy, the brain tissue can be tested for the presence of plaques and tangles which is our only positive sign the disease exist. All we can offer now, as doctors, is to make a diagnosis of probability.”

His voice sounded like an older man, possibly in his late fifties or early sixties. His manner was caring and patient.

“There
are
tests that can be conducted at specialized centers capable of diagnosing the disease correctly ninety percent of the time, but the behavior of a person is the most revealing test.”

“What indications make you believe she has the disease?”

“While we visited, I asked her a few basic things about her life—her family, her work, the names of people she worked with, and her children. The red light went off when she hesitated while trying to tell me your name—only a few seconds—but long enough to cause me some concern. She also had difficulty remembering her telephone number and a few other things.”

“What do you recommend?”

“I believe you are her only living relative.”

“Yes.”

“It’s early, but you’ll probably need to be thinking about making arrangements for her care. More than likely, her employer will, at some point, ask her to stop working.”

“How fast does this type of thing progress?”

“It varies from person to person. On average, Alzheimer patients live from eight to ten years after they are diagnosed, though the disease can last for as long as twenty years or more,” he said.

“But my mother is still relatively young. I thought this sort of thing only happened to folks much older than her.”

“Based on statistics, the disease usually begins after the age of sixty and is more likely to occur in women than men. And you’re right; it is more prevalent in older people. Only about five percent of men and women between sixty-five and seventy-four have it, but it attacks nearly half of those eighty-five and older.”

“Well, Doctor Wilson, I appreciate your call. I am off for a couple of days. I think I will fly over to Atlanta tomorrow and visit with mom.”

“I think that would be a great idea. Call my office if I can be of help.”

“Thank you, again.” Ryan hung-up.

He stood staring out the bay window in the kitchen admiring the new flower beds Emily had recently hired a landscaper to put in. All of his problems seemed insignificant, except one: money. How much would it cost to care for his mother? What would Emily say about having her move in with them? These were real concerns.

His mother couldn’t survive alone without her job, and she was too young to apply for Medicare. He had no choice; he and Emily would have to find a way to make it work. There was no one else.

Already living hand-to-mouth, hiring a full-time professional caregiver in Atlanta was out of the question. His only choice would be to move her to Dallas. Emily would have to understand the seriousness of the situation and be willing to help. It would take a coordinated effort and huge sacrifice, on his
and
Emily’s part, to make it work. As the disease worsened, they would need to adjust their work schedules so someone would be home to watch her. Emily might even have to quit working.

We
can’t
afford
to
lose
Emily’s
income
,
not
now
,
especially
after
what
she
has
done
.

Each attempt he made to mentally construct a logical plan of attack took him down another path filled with more problems and concerns; a mine field of unknowns he didn’t want to consider.

Regardless of what he decided, one thing was for certain, Emily would be home in a matter of hours. Breaking the news to her was certain to uncork a whole new set of difficulties.

CHAPTER 33

That afternoon, Ryan stood in the garage as Emily’s car pulled into the driveway. Their eyes met without any further greeting. Emily turned off the car, opened the door, and stepped out. As she walked toward the house, for a moment, he remembered the playful, fun-loving girl he had fallen madly in love with less than two years ago.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. Her brash tone quickly vaporized his memories.

Although he and Emily were emotionally disconnected, a stranger could have detected Ryan’s pain.

“It’s my mother. I received a call from her doctor in Atlanta. He thinks she has Alzheimer’s.”

She strode past him in disinterested silence, opened the door, and went into the kitchen. He followed her.

“Isn’t that the thing where you go crazy or something?” Her response seemed distant and cold. Emily hardly knew his mother. The one and only time they met was at the wedding.

“Not really. It has more to do with a person’s ability to remember. It’s a form of dementia.” He closed the door behind him.

She put her purse on the counter, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a bottle of water. “So, what’s going to happen to her?” She twisted the top off the plastic bottle and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“That’s what we need to talk about.” Ryan pulled out a chair and sat down.

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. “We’re talking, aren’t we?” She flipped through the first few letters in the stack of mail on the table, taking a drink from the bottle of water.

“Emily. This is serious. We’re going to have to make some big decisions soon.”

“What? Is she about to die or something?” She looked up at Ryan, showing little concern in her face.

It was obvious she felt no differently for his mother than she would a stranger. He couldn’t decide if it was her lack of concern for his mother, or her lack of sensitivity to him that hurt the most. Tired of fighting his emotions, he decided to tell her the facts and be done with it.

“Alzheimer’s does shorten a person’s life, but the most difficult aspects of the disease are how it affects a person while they are living,” he explained. “As the disease progresses, it robs the victim of their ability to care for themselves. This is where we come in.”

“I hope you’re not thinking we’re going to pay someone to take care of your mother.”

“Listen, it’s obvious we can’t afford to pay for professional care, but she’s too young to qualify for Medicare. That’s why when she’s forced to stop working, she has to move in with us.” He braced for the emotional explosion.

“What!” With raised eyebrows, she leaned toward him and poked her index finger hard against the table with each word she spoke. “Your mother is
not
moving into this house! Do you hear me? Not…I repeat…NOT moving into this house!”

“Calm down,” he said, leaning away from her, holding up the palms of both hands. “It’s not something that’s going to happen immediately—”