Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (20 page)

Her
friend gave the phone a dirty look.  

“I
better take it, Jeanne.”   

Dorrie
picked it up before her friend could protest.

“There’s
no reasoning with your friend right now. She’s too distraught to think
straight. Tell her for me I’ll do whatever it takes to make the transition to
her prior home easier. And you’re excused to fly over for the service. I’ll
have Mrs. Kingston arrange for movers and a van, and book your flights. Don’t
stay too long. You’ll be needed here as soon as you can make it back. Remember
to take your pills. You should have enough for the trip and a few extra for
eventualities. You’ll get your next month’s supply when you return. Any
questions?”

“No,
and thanks for letting me go. I won’t stay longer than necessary.”

An
hour later, when Dorrie had arrived home, Kelly called. “I heard about Jeanne’s
Dad. What a nightmare for that to happen, especially with everyone looking
forward to his getting better. Please tell Jeanne how sorry I am. How are you
holding up?”

Dorrie
sighed. “I’m really shaken, but I’ll survive. It’s Jeanne I’m worried about.
She’s taking it very hard.”

“I
would too. Listen, Mr. Remington had me line up some flights. You and Jeanne
will be on Southwest Airlines Friday morning, with her Dad in a special
compartment. You can pick up the tickets at the terminal. Do you think it’s too
soon?”

“No,
that’ll be fine. Jeanne wants out, the sooner the better. She’s already made
funeral arrangements at her church for Tuesday.”

“I’ll
make sure the movers get over tomorrow.”

“Thanks
for all your help, Kelly. I better get off now and help her pack. I’ll talk to
you later.”   

***

Mike’s
will had specified a closed casket. The church service on Tuesday was short,
but poignant, since the priest performing the service had also known Mike. In
the vestibule, Jeanne’s neighbors offered condolences, as did Keith’s brother,
Steve, who still lived in the old neighborhood.

He
shot a surprised glance at Dorrie, as if wondering if it were really her. He
must have heard of or seen the commercials by now, but it had to be strange
seeing her in person, not only looking young, but also in the family way. Had
his brother told him how she’d gotten pregnant? The thought Steve might think
ill of her bothered her more than it should. After all, he was part of her
past, and couldn’t belong in her future, not after what she’d done to
him. 

At
the private graveside service, Dorrie shed tears alongside her friend, as
Mike’s remains were lowered into the cemetery vault. Afterward they returned to
Jeanne’s house and reminisced about old times.  

The
next morning Jeanne started going through Mike’s effects to decide what to
keep, throw away or give away. “Look at all this stuff we brought with to
Arizona, thinking he might use them again—His old fishing rod, tennis racket,
hiking boots, swim trunks. Well, maybe someone else can put them to use now,”
she said, depositing them into the charity box.

Jeanne
picked up the gold watch Mike had been awarded upon retirement from his
position at the telephone company. “I’ll keep this as a remembrance. My, how
time flies. It seems only yesterday I saw him come home with this. He looked so
proud he’d earned it, and Mom was so pretty then, too,” Jeanne said wistfully,
brushing back tears. A year later her Mom had died in a car accident, turning
Mike’s retirement lonely and Jeanne brokenhearted.

Remembering
the tragedy, Dorrie couldn’t force the words out of her clogged throat to
express sympathy.

By
early evening the sad chore was done. Dorrie, wearing a borrowed coat to ward off
the chill, joined her friend on the back deck. The fresh air had a way of
chasing away her troubles, allowing her to smile at the sight of the deer and
squirrels coming up to the feeders for their daily meal.

Snow
began to fall, picking up in volume, turning the yard into a winter wonderland.
Everything looked so peaceful and right, exactly what December should look
like.

When
she’d been far away, with nothing to remind her of her old life, she’d found it
easier to accept the scenery and lifestyle changes. Now, an empty feeling
filled her at seeing what she’d given up. This is where she belonged, not in
Arizona. Would she be able to come back someday? Would her friend still be
alive? Those were sobering thoughts she didn’t want to think about. She only wanted
to live in the moment and enjoy sharing it with her friend.

“Jeanne,
I don’t blame you for coming back. It’s so peaceful here. I wish I could stay.”

“Why
don’t you?”

“You
know I can’t. I made a deal. With Mike gone, Roman’s counting on me even more.
Besides, he’s got the pills and I need them. If I stopped, God knows what would
happen to the baby.”

“The
man acts like he owns you.”

“He
does in a way, but it’s my doing as well. I could have said no to his offer. Also,
he is the baby’s father. I have to keep that in mind.”

“Yeah,
that he is. Poor child, poor you, and poor me. If you weren’t so dependent on
the man, I’d blow the whistle on his crummy operation and shut him down. Dad
did not die from heart trouble. Sure, he had his share of problems, but they
didn’t include his heart.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Despite
her ties to Tomahawk, Dorrie felt almost glad to be sitting back at her desk on
Christmas Eve. Her emotions had run high in Tomahawk, leaving her exhausted.

It
didn’t take long before Roman summoned her into his office. “Have a seat, my
dear.”

He
leaned forward on his desk. “As you’re no doubt aware, we’re faced with a
potentially explosive situation. If news of McIntyre’s death leaks out, the
veracity of Forever Young will be irreparably harmed.

“The
man obviously had a heart defect, and would have died with or without Forever
Young. Be that as it may, if people caught wind of his demise, they’d be all
too willing to point the finger at my product and blame it for his death. We
can’t let that happen. Not one word to anyone about this. Understood?”

“Definitely.”

Roman
nodded. “Okay. Now, I’ve already spoken to Mrs. Kingston and explained about
Mike McIntyre’s pre-existing condition. She understands and has agreed not to
say anything that would jeopardize the Institute’s standing, as well as her
own.”

So,
that was that. If Kelly had harbored doubts, they’d been quieted by Roman’s
persuasion. A man had died, but as long as no one made a big deal out of it, it
would be as if nothing had happened.

But
it had, and Dorrie could only sit in front of Roman, amazed at his
insensitivity. Obviously, Mike had merely been a publicity conduit, not a
person. And what did Roman think of her?

The
same, of course. There was no reason for him to consider her otherwise. It
wasn’t as if they meant anything special to each other. To him, she represented
eye candy wrapped up in dollar signs. Not that she wanted to mean more, God
forbid.

“Now
that we have that matter cleared, let’s get on to unfinished business.”

He
looked her up and down, his eyes flickering in appreciation. “Your face isn’t
bloated and you’re carrying the baby well. Pregnancy obviously agrees with you.
You’re about six and a half months along, right?”

Well,
at least he was keeping track. That must meant something.

“Shame
we can’t make it public. Nix on the live promotions. For now, we’ll use digital
effects. Let’s hope the baby makes it out alive, and with all ten fingers and
toes, so we can play it up later.”

Dorrie
frowned.
There’s no end to his crassness, referring to his own child that
way.

“Is
something wrong?”

“Only
your cavalier attitude toward a child that’s half yours. “

He
shook his head. “Dorrie, Dorrie, I’ve warned you about being overly
sentimental. We’re in unchartered territory here. You’re better off not getting
attached, or you’ll be hurt in the long run. Think over that bit of advice, but
in your spare time, my dear. We have much to accomplish today.”

She
wished he wouldn’t refer to her as “my dear,” since he obviously didn’t mean
it. On more than one occasion, she’d been tempted to call him on it, but
prudence kept her mouth shut.  She depended on Roman for her pills, and
would put up with a lot to get them.

***

“I
can’t believe Roman. He can be so inhuman,” Dorrie told Kelly over lunch.

“How
so?”

“You
know, like with that whole business with Jeanne’s Dad, he could have been more
sympathetic.”

“Not
surprising. He didn’t know Mr. McIntyre, so Roman’s only perspective is how his
death could hurt business. After all, Roman did put in a lot of effort into
building his brand and inventing his pill and wouldn’t want all that work to go
for naught. Also, as Roman pointed out, Mr. McIntyre probably had a
pre-existing heart condition and would have died anyway. I still feel bad for
Jeanne. It’s a rotten shame it happened, especially after everyone looked
forward to a good result. ”

Dorrie
nodded in agreement. Inwardly she couldn’t help admiring Roman’s finesse at
swaying Kelly over to his side. Obviously, they were now on a first name basis.
Had he offered her a raise as well?  

Pushing
her broccoli around on the plate, Dorrie sighed. “I suppose you’re right in a way,
though I still think a little more sympathy should be in order on his part.
Well, we all have priorities, though they may not be the same.”

“They
can’t be, or we’d be living each other’s life.”

“You’ve
got me on that one.”

Kelly
had done her best to be sympathetic, and Dorrie appreciated her good
intentions. She’d only known Jeanne a short time and caught short glimpses of
Mike when visiting, so it was understandable his death wouldn’t affect her
much.

Conversation
turned to Christmas, with Kelly mentioning she’d be off work in an hour to help
her Mom with the Christmas Eve preparations. On Christmas, she’d be over at the
in-laws.

“I’ve
got some catching up to do, so I won’t be leaving early, that’s for sure,”
Dorrie told her.

In
the old days, she’d have rushed home to be with Larry and Mom to celebrate the
holidays. Now it didn’t matter when she got home.

As
she picked up her purse at the end of the day, Roman stepped out. “Here’s
something to make your holidays a little brighter.”

She
thanked him and wished him a Merry Christmas. In the elevator, she opened the
envelope and gasped at the surprisingly generous gift. Maybe he was taking into
account the baby’s upcoming arrival, which was a good thing.

***

The
short man gazed at Roman from behind his desk. “Well, thanks to our martyr,
McIntyre, I’ve eliminated one blocking drug from the equation. I’m mulling over
some other considerations, but am leaning toward radioiodine as the answer.
How’s damage control?”

“I
perceive McIntyre’s daughter as a possible weak link.”

“We’ll
do something about that. Now, for the widow’s pregnancy issue. I’d like to get
my hands on those stem cells and see what I can do with them.”

“I
disagree. I think we should bring the child to term. She claims the
amniocentesis looked promising. It’s very possible a perfect specimen may
result.”

“Hmm,
that’s a thought. We could harvest the baby for experiments.”

“That’s
not what I mean. If all goes well, the kid could be a great sell. Think of the
publicity.”

 The
man rubbed his chin. “Something to consider. What’s the gender?”

“I
haven’t a clue. The widow insists on being surprised.”

The
short one sighed. “Such an irritating combination, an old fashioned mind in a
young body. Now, about that gynecologist, if he gets in the way later, we may
need to deal with him.”

***

Pushing
the elevator’s up button, Roman frowned. Alarming occurrences were the norm
lately, instead of the exception.

The
first was the squat man’s borrowing the SUV to run over Larry Donato. Roman had
understood the reason and felt no guilt over the incident. After all, he’d not
been the one behind the wheel.

Then
the iPhone had gone missing. By using Dorrie as a guinea pig, they’d
effectively controlled that situation. What he hadn’t counted on was taking a
liking to her. He’d thought he could stay objective, but relief flooded through
him when he realized her faulty thyroid had saved her.

He
couldn’t summon up sympathy for McIntyre’s demise, since he’d been in such dire
straits he’d already attempted suicide. The  man would have succeeded,
sooner or later.

From
all indications, the death circle might widen to include Dorrie’s doctor, as
well as her best friend. Was there a limit to how far one man would go to
become whole again?