Dorrie nodded. “You don’t have to go it alone. I’m here for you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s so frustrating because that damn Angel-Devil Man got my hopes up. I expected a miracle, and now I feel cheated. Before him, I was resigned to Dad’s going downhill and watching him so he wouldn’t kill himself. Then Remington made it sound so certain Dad could get better by taking one tiny pill a day. I couldn’t help falling for his sell, especially since the pill worked so well on you.
“Shit, I’m sorry I blamed you for any of this. None of it’s your fault. You didn’t make the pills, plus I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or Dad. You had the best of intentions.”
Jeanne’s shoulders shook as her tears fell. Dorrie pulled back her chair to rush over and comfort her friend, and they both ended up crying on each other’s shoulders.
“Damn, my nose is running. I need a tissue or something,” Jeanne said.
“Me, too. I’ll get the box from the bathroom.”
As she rushed to grab it, she felt encouraged. Letting it all out had to help Jeanne to accept Mike’s death and take the first step toward getting on with her life.
Many such outbursts were bound to follow, and may never end. Dorrie still couldn’t think of Larry or Mom without tears welling up. She didn’t know how anyone could ever get used to losing someone important in their life. You just had to cope.
She handed the box to Jeanne. “Here you go.”
Jeanne blew her nose, and then looked across at Dorrie. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dorrie. You’re my friend and I love you dearly, but I can’t stick around this accursed place. I’m getting the hell out as fast as I can, and Mike’s coming with. He’ll be buried in Wisconsin, where the air is fresh and cool, not so hot and dry where you can barely breathe.
“I didn’t say anything before, since I thought being here would be good for Mike, but ever since we arrived, I knew I didn’t fit in. I missed the woodsy look and smell of Wisconsin, the deer coming into the yard, lots of other stuff I took for granted. My house there isn’t sold yet, so Roman can have this bad luck place back. I’m getting the hell out as fast as I can.”
Though Dorrie had suspected her friend would feel this way, she still felt a pang at hearing the words. Once again they’d live miles apart.
She sighed. “I don’t blame you Jeanne, but let’s visit as often as possible. If you can’t bear coming here, I’ll get over there somehow.”
“Think your precious boss will cut you loose for the memorial service in Wisconsin?”
“He’s got to. He can’t be that callous. By the way, he told me to tell you how sorry he was, and that you’re wrong about the pill being the culprit. He insists it’s perfectly safe, and Mike must have had a pre-existing condition, probably congenital, which didn’t show up on the pre-testing.”
“Sure, he’d say that. Think of the money involved. To my way of thinking, that pill is dangerous and should not be on the market. Are you sure you don’t want to get off of it and be normal, like me?”
“The baby’s depending on it. I can’t.”
“Of course, I forgot. Well, maybe later.”
“Who knows, maybe.”
Dorrie didn’t want to disappoint her friend by telling her she’d already decided not to return to her normal age. Since she’d made the transition safely, why grow old and suffer like Mom? The pill hadn’t worked for Mike, but for some lucky reason, it did for her. Not only that, she looked forward to taking it each day. It made her feel great. In fact, she wouldn’t feel right without it.
The benefits far outweighed the risks and other factors. Painful separations would follow when she’d live on and eventually lose the friends she held dear, like Jeanne, Keith and maybe Kelly, but she’d forge new ones. Maybe her child would even take the pill someday and keep her company. Dorrie stopped her pondering to listen to Jeanne’s arrangements.
“Dad told me a long time ago he thought wakes and autopsies were barbaric, so both of those are out. Though I’d really like to know if that young pill did him in, I’m respecting his wishes. He deserves to rest in peace. The service and burial will be in Tomahawk, where we have plots next to my Mom. I want our stuff packed and shipped out to my real home ASAP. In fact, I’m telling that turd right now.”
Once her friend got an idea into her head, Dorrie knew better than to try and dissuade her.
Brave as Jeanne’s words sounded, Dorrie saw her fingers shake as she dialed Roman’s number from the landline. Apparently Roman did answer because Jeanne frowned and then shouted, “I don’t want to hear it. Look, scumbag, your slick talk washes right off of me. You can say whatever you want, but I know you’re the one responsible for my Dad’s death. If it weren’t for the fact my good friend, Dorrie, and her unborn child are hooked on your drug, the press would get an earful.”
More words on the other end, probably protests, with Jeanne butting in. “You’re damn right you’ll pay the travel expenses to my real home. And, you can keep the stinking house here. The place is cursed, like you,” she said, banging the phone down.
Dorrie’s cell rang a few minutes later. She grabbed it out of her purse and shot a knowing glance at Jeanne.
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 h
e 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?
***
Dorrie tried calling Jeanne and Kelly on their cells to wish them a Merry Christmas, but only got voice mail.
Sighing, she settled down for a dull day. Her tiny, pre-lit Christmas tree twinkled from the end table as she alternated between listening to Christmas carols on the radio and watching holiday programming.
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 14