120 days... (38 page)

Peter had called him. His house in the city had sold. It was the last piece of property he owned. He had asked him to start looking into a buyer for the last of his privately held properties while Sam was still pregnant. Ethan knew he wasn’t ever going to be going back there.

Anything his company held he gave to his assistant Jodi, he thought she was running things just as well as he did, and she deserved to reap some benefits for taking care of everything for over the past year. The thrill was gone and he couldn’t see himself going back to what used to hold so much pleasure for him.

There had also been some interest in the resort. Since he had bought up so much of the surrounding properties, it had become a huge parcel of California land, which also happened to have a gold mine on it, the amount of money being thrown in his direction was staggering, even for him. He started constructing a wall around the whole place. People were sneaking in, trying to find a way to either get him to sell, or a way into the gold mine.

Since Sam had died, he had been pulling back from everything until his life was only him and Jennie on the resort. Nothing was the same, everything seemed duller, not as brilliant without her around. The only thing that brought him joy was Jennie. They were in this together.

Ethan felt he’d been doing so well, every day was a little bit easier for him. Sometimes he couldn’t tell how much, but he knew it had to be something. When the package came in the mail for Jennie, he didn’t think anything about it. He opened it up and there was a little baby-size Wonder Woman costume for her to wear for her first Halloween.

He sat down right where he was and cried.

In Sam’s mind, Halloween started the holiday season. Ethan knew it was only going to get harder.

The staff tried as much as they could, and Ethan knew they were missing her too. He tried as best he could for them and Jennie, knowing they all needed each other.

Not a day went by that he didn’t thank his lucky stars the resort ran so well. He couldn’t devote as much time as he needed to, or had been able to in the past. He still tried to meet every guest when they arrived, but he hadn’t been able to be there when they passed away. He’d tried, but he couldn’t. It was the first time in his life he felt like a failure.

Ethan knew Sam would have said he went overboard for Christmas, but it was their daughter’s first, and he felt like he had to make up for the fact that he was the only one there for her. The house looked like it should have been in a Hollywood movie, not to mention all of the gifts under the tree. So much more than an eight-month-old needed.

Overall, he thought he was handling things well, but every once in a while something would happen and it would throw him for a loop. He had been reading ’
Twas the Night Before Christmas
to Jennie and when he read the part about the mom and dad being tucked in the bed, he couldn’t continue reading. There was no mom and dad for this family, only dad.

They spent the day with the guests, eating, singing carols and opening presents. He couldn’t deny the fact that it felt good to be around the staff and guests again. Sitting there with Jennie on his knee, he looked around and knew she was going to have a very special upbringing, surrounded by so much love.

He also knew it was time for them to join the living again. It was what Sam would have demanded he do, and it was what Jennie needed.

April 8
^th

Ethan held his daughter’s hand as they walked slowly together through the Legacy Garden. Jennie may have been born fifty-nine days early, but she was ahead of all the other children her age. Already Jennie knew where to stop. Looking up at her daddy, she smiled and placed her hand over her mother’s handprint.

“That’s right, honey. That’s your mama’s handprint.” Ethan leaned down and placed his hand over hers, making sure she knew he was there for her. “I know she’s wishing you a happy birthday right now. Oh, see?” He pointed to the butterfly that had just landed on the rose bush, which had one of its branches coming over the wall. “There she is. She came to wish it to you personally.”

“Ohhh . . .” Jennie’s little voice rang out.

“Come on, let’s say hello to Uncle Evan while we’re here.” They walked further down and did the same thing there.

“Ethan?”

“Over here, Bethany.” He picked Jennie up, set her on his hip and walked over toward his office assistant.

“Mr. Simpson is fading.”

“Thanks, I’ll head on over. Jennie, should we go say good-bye to Mr. Richard Simpson? I think he’s done an amazing job not letting the lung cancer get him down. He made it one hundred and seventy-three days. I’ll have to check my figures, but I think the average number of days someone stays here is going up. Your mommy would be proud of us.”

Ethan hugged his daughter and looked back over his shoulder to the butterflies dancing in the garden. He knew both of them were thought of by those who had died at the resort. The butterflies always seemed to follow his Jennie around. Everyone who had come before, everyone who was there, and everyone who would be coming, were all connected. All of their stories mattered and the butterflies were a reminder that each one was important.

It felt very strange to be writing about my parents as if they were dead in this book, but I knew I had to get past it. It was their story, their strength and attitude that gave me the idea for
120 days
. They needed to be in it. They are the only people, ‘guests,’ in the book who are still alive. The others were borrowed from family and friends who have lost loved ones to terminal diseases.

These are the real stories behind the guests at Last Resort.

Bonnie and Bill Wivell, my parents

Written by M. Stratton

I think I’ll remember that day forever. My husband and I were supposed to go out on a date for that night so my mom was going to come over to watch our son. They live about forty-five minutes away, so this isn’t a quick trip. We were sitting on the loveseat when she told me, “Dad has cancer.” The next few minutes were a blur, I know I cried, I know she cried and I was in shock. But in the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong. I had just told my husband the month before that he didn’t look well, but since he was getting older, I played it off as that. It wasn’t.

From the very beginning my dad said he was going to beat this, that he didn’t care what it took, he wasn’t going to be ashes in an urn. The odds of him making it to five years were slim. He went in for radiation and chemo treatments. They were aggressive in their treatment hoping to shrink the tumors before going in for surgery.

He went in and had the surgery, the next day he looked wonderful. If you didn’t know better, you would have never thought he had such a major surgery. They sent him home, but things got worse. He had an infection that was so bad, he couldn’t move. He went by ambulance to the hospital, where they pumped him full of antibiotics. At this point, it wasn’t looking good. My mom and I were really worried we were going to lose him.

I didn’t find out until much later but my dad says he saw God at this point, and he told him to go away; he wasn’t ready to die. He said, “You finally give me a grandson to now take me away from him? No, I’m not going.” And he didn’t. He fought back and went home. About a month later, he had another infection. This time they were going to open him back up and see what was going on. What no one knew was he was allegoric to the sutures they used. They put different ones in and he healed.

After that he was on chemo maintenance and getting his rhythm back. He was going in for routine scans when they found a growth on his lung. It was back in for surgery to remove the cancer that had metastasized there. Once again he showed remarkable strength in dealing with all the pain and uncertainty.

Through all of this, my dad went to work. Of course, while he was in the hospital he couldn’t, but if he could get out of bed, he went to work. His attitude was so remarkable throughout all of the treatments and surgeries, we knew that was the reason he was doing so well.

Then he was in Vegas for a seminar, and had a heart attack. I was at work when I received the call from my mom. I wanted to get up there, to be there for them, but they wouldn’t let me. He had a couple of stents put in and my aunt and uncle came over from California to drive them home since he couldn’t fly.

We dodged another bullet.

I should have known better. I remember sitting there at my parents’ a year or so later thinking how well Dad was doing. It was almost like everything was normal for us. He had learned to deal with the side effects of the chemo maintenance and everything was good. It had been four years since he was diagnosed with colon cancer. Then my husband woke me up in the middle of the night. I hadn’t heard the phone ring. My mom had a heart attack. I couldn’t breathe. It was hard, but my husband went down to be with my dad. There was no way I could drive. It wouldn’t be safe, and someone had to stay with our son.