Second Chances

by Phelps, K. L.

  Nathan nodded toward the woman, indicating that he thought she definitely had the right idea. He picked a row near the boarding area, sat down and quickly joined the other woman in slumber.

  Paige wanted to join in on the party, but found she couldn't sit still. She wished the flight had been nonstop. She couldn't say why, but she didn't feel comfortable. She knew it was fear racing through her, but she wasn't sure what she was afraid of. No that wasn't entirely true, she knew plenty of things she was afraid of. She was afraid of finding out the truth. She was afraid of not finding out the truth. She felt afraid of getting back on a plane, which was silly since she used to love to fly. Part of her mind was screaming at her to stay away from Rhode Island. An unnatural desire gripped her and it took everything she had to resist the urge to run screaming down the concourse.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants and paced around the boarding area, circling the clusters of chairs again and again.

  Did they need to go to Rhode Island? Should they? Maybe they could just go somewhere else. They?

  "Are we a they?" she asked herself aloud.

  When had she begun to think that way? She still did not believe that she was Nathan's Paige, in fact she was quite sure she wasn't. And yet looking at him asleep in the chair, she couldn't deny that she was starting to feel something for him. But why? The passion with which he had written in the journals was undeniable. She knew that part of her was responding to the raw emotion he had poured out in those words. She found his dedication to the woman he wrote about to be extremely attractive, almost sexy. And speaking of sexy, she had to admit she was more than a little attracted to him physically. But was that it? Was it just that she was attracted to the dedication he showed for his past wife and his cute smile? She didn't think that was it.

  She had liked him instantly. She felt she could trust him, as was obvious from all the craziness she had followed him into. She had felt comfortable with him, even when he had scared the hell out of her back...here? She shook her head.

  "This is where it all started." She looked around the terminal, what a difference a few days could make. For the life of her she could not remember what gate they had been at for that last flight, but part of her wondered if it hadn't been this very gate. What were the odds?

  "Full circle. It started here, so why shouldn't it end here?"

  She slapped a hand over her mouth. What had she just said? Why had she said that? Why should it end here? Why did she think it might or that it even should end?

  She wiped her trembling hands on her pants again. It felt so hot in here. She felt a rush of warm saliva filling her mouth and darted for the rest room.

  The muscles in stomach clenched into hard knots. She kept her eyes closed as she leaned over the sink, her hands gripping the sides tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She spit out mouthful after mouthful of saliva between the dry heaves. The pain in her stomach was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

  When it seemed the heaves were subsiding she reached to turn on the water, cursed when she noticed it was a hands free faucet and waved a hand back and forth over the sensor. The water started to flow and she scooped up a handful and splashed it on her face, reached for a second and cursed once more when the water stopped running. She waved the faucet on once more and got another handful of water. She wished it were cold instead of luke warm. She took a third handful and splashed her face once more, before she risked standing up. Her stomach ached.

  She took a few slow breaths before she looked at herself in the mirror. Paige was horrified by her reflection. Her color was way off, her face red from the straining of the dry heaves. Her nose was running and she still had tears running down her face.

  "What the hell is wrong with me? You need to get a hold of yourself," she said to the reflection in the mirror. She reached over and waved her hand repeatedly in front of the paper towel dispenser. It made a noise, its motor running, but no paper towels came out.

  "Perfect, just perfect."

  She opened the closest stall and pulled a large wad of toilet paper free. She did her best to clean up her face, wiping away the stray flecks of white as the toilet paper came apart.

  "This is pathetic," she said to her reflection. "It's a good thing Nathan can't see..."

  She shivered. She was no longer hot. In fact, she felt down right frigid. She was gripped by a sudden certainty that Nathan was gone. She saw it in her mind. She would exit the restroom and he would be gone. Only empty chairs and the middle-aged woman in the row across the way would be there to greet her.

  She clenched her hands into fists and held them tightly at her side, trying to will away the fear. She blinked away her tears.

  "Stop it," she hissed to herself and was pleasantly surprised when her body responded.

  Her heart thundered in her chest as she walked to the exit. She hesitated for only a moment before exiting the restroom. A sob of relief escaped her lips when she saw Nathan's sleeping form exactly where she had left him.

  She moved quickly over to join him, sitting in the chair next to him. He had his hands buried in his jacket pockets. She pulled gently on his left arm as he shifted. His hand came out of his pocket and something else came out with it. She saw a flash of silver and then it fell from her sight under his chair. She bent forward and reached for it.

  Her breath caught in her chest when she pulled the silver cross and chain out from under the chair. It was the one she had looked at the other day. She didn't have to look at it too closely to tell, she just knew it. It was the one she'd seen that had reminded her of her mother's.

  How?

  She shook her head and looked from it to Nathan and back, a sad smile on her lips. He had gotten it for her. How had he known? How could he have known? She held it tightly in her hand, trying to decide what to do. A minute later she undid the clasp and put the necklace on. The weight of it against her chest felt reassuring, like a hug from her mother. She smiled at him, then without thinking about it, leaned over and gently kissed him.

  For the next several hours she stayed glued to her spot beside him. More passengers arrived and she eyed them warily. Fear still filled her. The desire to run screaming down the concourse did not entirely leave and she didn't dare allow herself to fall asleep for fear that she would awaken and find him gone. But the comforting weight of the cross helped sustain her.

  When the time came to board, she gently woke him. She couldn't tell if he noticed she was wearing the necklace or not and was unsure of just how to bring it up. He was still half-asleep and then after they had taken their seats in the cabin, he was all the way asleep once more. This time she didn't leave an empty seat between them. She sat in the middle, leaving the aisle seat clear.

  She fidgeted in her seat until the plane had pulled away from the gate. She was certain something would happen. The plane would get called back to the gate and she would be escorted off and away from Nathan.

  She began to relax only when the reassuring pressure of the takeoff pushed her back in her seat. As the jet lifted off into the air, she raised the armrest between them and before the aircraft reached cruising altitude she was asleep, nestled up against him with a sliver of a smile on her lips and a hand holding the cross against her chest.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Julie rolled up to the closed wooden crossbar of the guardhouse in her battered Volvo. She recognized the man on duty. He was dressed in his blue uniform, crisply pressed. He stepped out of the guardhouse and smiled at her.

  "Good morning," he said as he looked at his watch. "You are a little early."

  Julie knew it was true. She had tossed and turned most of the night until finally giving up on sleep and had gotten out of bed and prepared for the day.

  "Oh really?" She tried her best to sound innocent and gave him a big smile. She thought about batting her eyelashes at him, but figured she was too old to get away with such an obvious gesture.

  "Yeah, ten minutes until visiting hours start."

 
"Guess traffic wasn't as bad as I feared. Can I still go in, Dave?"

  "Sure," he said, smiling because she'd remembered his name. He returned to the guardhouse and a moment later the crossbar at the entrance to the grounds began to rise.

  She waved to him and then put her car in gear. She drove slowly up the long driveway. The vast, immaculately kept grounds of the Ocean View Estates spread out on either side of the gravel drive. She pulled up to the parking area in front of the massive home and got out. She turned and looked back, as she always did, past the gate to the ocean beyond.

  The name was no lie. The view from the top of the hill she'd just driven up was spectacular. Just beyond on the other side of the road was an almost unrestricted view of Gooseberry Beach. While much of the beach itself was open to the public, the Bastion Beach Club, which she could just see from her vantage point, was anything but. Like much of Newport, the rich and privileged lived side by side with the commoners, but never together. Together but separate was how she always thought of it.

  She shook her head. What was she thinking? She wasn't here to sightsee. It was just so hard not to appreciate the majestic beauty of the surroundings. She was certain a part of her would actually miss it. She turned back to the house. An understatement. She was always in awe of the fact that at one time the building before her had been home to a single family. She had called it a mansion the first time she had seen it, but had been quickly corrected on that. There were certainly plenty of mansions in the area, but this wasn't one of them. At originally only seven thousand square feet, it had been a thousand square feet shy of earning that distinction. While that meant little to Julie, to those in the know it was quite unseemly to make such an error. She often wondered what it had been like before its conversion. The inside had been gutted and remodeled long ago, with massive expansions added to make it bloom well beyond its original size. It was now home to twenty full time residents when operating at full capacity, which it almost always was. Despite the exorbitant cost of being a resident at the facility, there was always a waiting list and it was often a matter of who you knew not when you applied to the facility that garnered a person one of the coveted spots on the rare occasion one became available.

  Part of Julie almost wanted to be grateful to Cameron for arranging his placement here, until she reminded herself that if it weren't for Cameron then he wouldn't have a need to be placed anywhere. Damn catch twenty-two situation if she ever saw one.

  "Well hopefully we can bring an end to this soon," she said to herself as she reached into her car and grabbed her purse before heading up the ramp to the front door.

  She grasped the doorknob and took a slow deep breath before turning it and opening the door. She always felt as if she were entering the lion's den when she came. She knew all the people who worked here, but was unsure just who they actually worked for, and that made her paranoid. But she believed that was a good thing, a survival instinct perhaps.

  The door opened into a large open room which had likely been a grand hall before the remodel. There were couches and love-seats arranged around the room by the front windows, all but one was vacant. Seated upon the farthest couch to the left was an elderly gentlemen dressed in a full three-piece suit, his hands resting atop a hand carved wooden cane. He stared off into the distance. Julie knew his name was J.P. Sanders and he had at one point been a financial wizard. These days he couldn't even remember his children's names, but he never failed to dress as if he were still heading for the office. Standing a foot or two behind him, Julie saw Peggy Jennings. She was dressed in a plaid skirt and dark blue top, the unofficial uniform of the resident caregivers. Each resident had their own personal caregiver. Ocean View insisted that they work six days a week, keeping continuity with each resident was important. Not long ago Julie had a chance to talk with Peg, as she liked to be called, and learned she'd been J.P.'s caregiver for almost eight years. Julie could tell that she cared deeply for the man and it was no doubt thanks to her dedication to his care that he continued to thrive. Julie guessed it was like that for most of the residents and their caregivers. They spent so much time together, how could they not get close? She gave Peggy a wave and then headed to the front desk, straight ahead on the right just beyond the entrance area. Peggy flashed her a smile and returned her greeting.

  Doris Flanders was seated at the front desk. She was one of the facility's administrators. The fact that she was here and manning the main desk likely meant that either a resident had recently passed on and she was awaiting the arrival of a new client or that one of the current residents was close to passing on and she was there to see everything was handled properly when nature took its course.

  "Hello Doris," Julie said as she neared the desk.

  "Ms. Murphy. It's a pleasure to see you," the woman said, rising up from behind the desk. She wore the same plaid skirt as the caregivers, but her blouse was a deep red.

  Julie winced. Even after all this time she couldn't get used to hearing the fake last name. She thought the entire use of fake names was unnecessary and, frankly, quite foolish. However, she nonetheless followed Cameron's rules and the identification in her purse would back that up.

  "Julie, please."

  "Of course, Julie. Forgive me."

  She smiled at the woman. She knew that Doris was aware that she preferred to be addressed by her first name, but the woman would never dream of doing so without first being given permission each visit. It simply would not be proper.

  "A little quiet." Julie was certain that Doris understood her unspoken question, but she was also aware that there was no way that she would answer it honestly. Doris Flanders was no gossip, especially when it came to the health of her clients.

  "Yes. It seems that many of our residents are off to a slow start this morning. Allow me to check with Sarah and inquire on Mr. Kimball. You are a bit early." This time it was Doris who was questioning.

  Julie nodded. "Yes. I managed to free up some extra time. I hope that won't be an inconvenience."

  "Not at all," Doris said quickly. Whether it actually was or wasn't, Doris nor any of the staff would ever say so. For what was charged for each resident, very little would ever be classified as an inconvenience. She picked up her phone and tapped in a series of numbers and then replaced the phone in the cradle. A moment later the phone rang.

  "Sarah, Ms. Murphy is here to see Mr. Kimball." Doris listened, her smile never wavering. "Very good," she said as she again returned the phone to its appropriate place.

  "She says they will be down in just a few minutes, if that is acceptable."

  Julie knew Doris was asking if she wanted to go up to Jason's room. They never would forbid such a thing, but she knew it made the rest of the staff uncomfortable. Patient confidentiality was huge in a place like this. She was already making them uncomfortable with her early visit. This was not a place that encouraged the 'pop-in' visit.

  "That would be lovely," Julie said. "I'll get out of your hair and just wait by the entrance."

  Doris gave her a soft laugh and waved a finger at her as if dismissing the thought that Julie's arrival was anything other then an unexpected joy. She moved off toward the front before Doris could voice those very sentiments.

  A few minutes later she heard the soft ding of the lift that was situated just beyond Doris' desk and around the corner came Sarah Mathews, Jason's caregiver. She was tall and thin, with her brown hair pulled back in a tight bun. The word spinster always sprang to mind, though Julie hated that it did. The woman was only a few years older than her and from the interaction they had had over the years she knew Sarah was a sweet and caring woman. She was pushing him in a wheelchair. Julie moved quickly toward them, her eyes flickering from Jason to the wheelchair and then to Sarah.

  Sarah answered her with a sad smile.

  "Worse?" Julie asked.

  "You know how it is. Some days are better than others. He's been very stiff. I didn't want to tax him this morning. I had intended to take him for a l
ittle walk," she said patting the collapsable walker attached to the back of the wheelchair. "See if we couldn't work out some of that stiffness. I think part of it may be the weather lately."

  Julie nodded. She knelt down in front of the wheelchair and looked at the man before her. As happened every time, she fought not to cry. He was so different then he'd once been and guilt ate at her. His grey eyes turned to look vacantly at her. She waited, hoping. He blinked a few times as he focused on her face. Her patience was rewarded. The corners of his eyes crinkled and a slip of a smile appeared on his lips. She reached out and stroked his cheek. He covered her hand with his.

  "Hello Jason. It's Julie."

  She was again rewarded with a subtle nod and this time she couldn't hold it in check and a tear rolled down from her right eye. She moved her hand up higher and ran her fingers through his grey streaked brown hair.

  "Almost time for a haircut, eh?"

  Again, another gentle nod.

  "We have that on tomorrow's schedule, don't we?" Sarah said.

  "How about I take over for a bit and you get yourself a cup of coffee," Julie said as she stood up. "You up for a little stroll around the grounds?"

  Jason nodded once more.

  "I don't know that he is up for..."

  "Oh I don't mean a walk. I'll push him in the wheelchair. I promise nothing more straining then a possible transfer to one of the benches. What do you say?" Even though she was asking Sarah, Jason still nodded his agreement.

  "You sure you don't want some help?"

  She patted Sarah on the shoulder.

  "Nah, I think I can handle it. We won't go far. Promise."