“What are the chances, doctor?”
“That is impossible to say, but I’m certain that without treatment, she doesn’t have long.”
Nate stared.
“Maybe a few weeks, maybe less. I can’t say.”
“How soon can we get in to a specialist?”
“Normally, several weeks, but I have a friend who may do us a favor.”
“Call him.”
“Well, I’d be happy to, but without the patient’s consent…”
“What do you mean, doctor? Consent?”
“Ethel adamantly refused to go, Nate.”
Nate shook his head sadly. This was the final blow. He lost his baby, his savings, now his wife.
“Do you think you could talk her into it, Nate?”
“I don’t know, I doubt it.”
“She wants to die, Nate.”
Nate drew a deep breath. “Well… I guess I’ll take her home. Go ahead and make the appointment. I’ll see if I can get her there.” He rose and offered a hand to the doctor, who now looked almost as defeated as Nate felt.
The doctor rose and took Nate’s hand. “God bless you, son,” he said.
“Thank you, doctor… for everything.”
```````
As time went on, Ethel lost all interest in life. She stopped leaving her bed. Nate could no longer care for her adequately. He called Hospice for help. A kind volunteer visited, daily at first, and then more frequently. Gently she prepared Nate for the inevitable.
Cynthia took some vacation time and flew out to be with her sister and help Nate. In the end, Ethel passed, peacefully.
Nate continued with the therapy group, for a time. They helped him through his new grief. One of the divorced women volunteered to carry one of Nate and Ethel’s preserved embryos and help raise the baby herself. Nate thought long and hard about this. At last, he decided against it and ordered the eggs destroyed.
This all happened several years ago. For a while, Nate called Cynthia every week. In a way, he wondered whether he and Cynthia might get together. Gradually the calls tapered off. Nate had moved on with his life. Eventually, he met someone, and married again. The couple were happily looking forward to their second child.
Nate
The Search
Dorothy May Mercer
Chapter 1 Today, Twenty years later.
N ate shifted in his seat, trying to find some way to adjust his lanky frame into an auditorium seat made for midgets. Dammit the aging body cannot take these interminable graduation ceremonies, he thought, ruefully. Down below the voices droned on announcing the names as the graduates moved up and across the stage, one by one. There was no getting around it, every one of the 677 names had to be read, complete with first, middle and last, in a few cases more than three names. They were only up to the H’s. Nate sighed and shifted again, accidentally bumping the neighbor’s elbow. “Oops, sorry,” he whispered.
The neighbor shifted out of the way, “No problem,” she whispered back and smiled. “It’s a long evening.”
“Yeah,” Nate grinned and tried to tuck his elbow in.
Nate’s young daughter, Joy Goodrich, had already passed through the gauntlet, receiving her empty diploma with her left hand from the high school principal, shaking hands with the president of the school board with her right, while smiling at the camera. The actual diploma, with high honors, would come in the mail.
Nate was relieved to see her successful maneuver up and down the steps tottering on four-inch heels like a make-believe grownup playing in her mother’s shoes. This was all happening too soon. I’m not ready for this, he thought, as his mind wandered back over the years since he held that tiny little bundle of joy in his arms for the first time. No question, at that moment he knew Joy was her name and she would live up to it. Joy had captured his heart, right from the “get-go” and never let up. Well, true, there had been a few times, when he wanted to thrash her good, but he had counted to ten and never laid a hand on her.
Nate’s wife knew some of the details concerning Nate’s first marriage, but never about there having been a lost baby. Somehow Nate had found it too sad to discuss. And so, when their daughter was born, Nate suggested the name Joy. Somehow it seemed fitting that God had granted him another daughter to take the place of the one he lost. Besides, the first Joy never received the name Joy Alice Goodrich. The surrogate mother named her Sally Miller. They could be anywhere in the world now.
Lately things had been a little “testy” with Joy’s new boyfriend. Don’t even go there, he thought. Nate knew he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight, not until he heard Joy come in from the party. Nate had even volunteered to act as chaperone.
“Oh Daddy, please,” she whined, when Nate broached the subject. “You’ll just spoil our fun.”
“No I won’t, I promise. You won’t even know I’m there,” he pleaded.
She just rolled her eyes, shook her head and smiled that enigmatic smile that all women seemed to have when they are dealing with men—gently manipulating them really.
“I’ll buy you that new dress you’ve been begging me to buy for weeks,” he bargained.
“My old dress will be fine,” she said, “I’ve only worn it once.”
“Yeah, but, don’t you want a new one?”
“Really, it’s fine, Daddy. Besides, Jeff hasn’t seen this one.”
Nate gulped. Jeff. That was exactly the problem, as far as Nate was concerned. That pimply-faced brat was hanging around far too much. Nate could strangle him, every time he looked at Joy with that certain gleam in his eye. Nate could remember all too well what it was like to be eighteen. He knew exactly what Jeff was thinking, and didn’t like it one bit.
I could take that pipsqueak, Jeff Rotten-ass, any day. Actually his name was Jeff Totten, of the uppity Totten family, but that only made it worse. What nerve did he have, robbing the cradle, taking my daughter out in that fancy car? It was so frustrating. Jeff was eighteen and a freshman in the community college. Joy was only sixteen--going on seventeen as she liked to remind him--having skipped rapidly through school. She met Jeff while taking advanced college classes during her senior year in high school. Nate was certain the only reason Jeff wasn’t going to an expensive private college was that his grades weren’t good enough, or maybe he’d been caught doing drugs or drunk driving…or worse. No doubt it was something awful. One thing was certain, Jeff Totten was not good enough for his daughter. Nate caught himself grinding his teeth. Gotta quit doing that before the dentist gets after me again.
Nate looked around at the crowd. He began to pay close attention as the readers commenced introducing students whose names started with M. The name Sally Miller was never far from his mind. But, of course, Sally would be in her early twenties, now. What am I thinking? This is crazy. Nate silently kicked himself. He knew exactly how old Sally would be, and the date of her birthday. He shifted in his seat again and tried to surreptitiously adjust his trousers where they were binding. Aw, hell, I guess I’ll go down the steps and use the rest room. The readers were only up to the P’s. Plenty of time before the grand finale. Besides it would feel good to stretch his legs.
Nate stood up and started moving down the row, trying to avoid stepping on other people’s feet or tripping on a wayward purse. “Excuse me, pardon me, please,” he apologized as parents and family members of the graduates tried to get out of his way, bending their knees to one side or half-standing and scootching back in the narrow space.
One elderly gentleman took advantage of the opportunity to follow Nate. “I’m right behind you, buddy,” he said in an overly loud tone. Obviously, the man was hard of hearing.
Nate smiled at him and nodded, “Come along” he gestured as they both chuckled.
“Shhh, quiet please,” said one woman as Nate momentarily blocked her sight. She craned to one side. “That’s my son!” she motioned frantically.
Nate quickly faded back, bumping into the elderly gentleman. “Oops, sorry.”
Th
e woman stood up and started to cheer, clap and wildly wave her arms.
Nate stood next to her and applauded politely, as well. What else could he do?
Nate had just celebrated his fifty-fourth birthday. Already he was noticing the “old-man’s” affliction characterized by more frequent trips to the bathroom. This couldn’t be happening, could it? “You’re in the prime of your life,” Nate’s doctor assured him at his last checkup. Well, it was true, he still had his hair, most of it anyway. A little graying at the temples only made him look distinguished, his wife told him. Nate could still run a mile twice a week and had only let his belt out a few notches since he was a track star in high school.
Eventually Nate and his new pal made it down the three flights, across the marble-floored lobby and down another long flight to the basement rest rooms. They stood side by side at the urinals and made polite remarks.
“I suppose you are here for one of the grads,” Nate offered.
“Yeah, actually there are two. Twins,” he replied. “Grandkids,” he added.
Nate nodded and mumbled, “Mmmm.”
“And you?” asked the man as they both adjusted their underwear and zipped up.
“Daughter,” said Nate, as they moved to wash their hands.
“You must be a proud papa.”
“Oh yeah, proud, but worried, too.”
“I get it,” said the man sympathetically. “Kids, these days!”
“Yup, times have changed.”
“Ya’ think?’ said the man, grinning as he pulled a couple paper towels out of the box on the wall and handed one to Nate. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Oh she’s a great kid. No problems there,” said Nate, “It’s that no-good boyfriend she’s got.” Nate had no idea why he was opening up to this gentleman.
“Ah, yes, I get it. I raised four daughters. Believe me, I didn’t have a moment’s peace until the last one was married off,” he chuckled. “But, now I’ve got granddaughters. Seems like it never ends.”
“Pity you, pal,” said Nate.
“Problem is nobody bothers getting married, these days. It’s awful.”
“Oh no,” said Nate. “I’ve yet to experience that.”
“Oh yeah. Three of them are living in sin. All got good jobs. Why do they need husbands?”
“Living in sin?” Nate asked, unfamiliar with the term.
The man chuckled, “Never heard of living in sin, huh? Well, that’s just an old-fashioned idea, I guess. Like me—out of date.”
Nate sighed and held the door open, noticing for the first time how slow and stooped-over the old man seemed to be.
“Thank you, young man,” said the fellow, “You go on back. I’m going to sit down here and watch the proceedings on television.” He indicated a soft chair seated in front of a closed-circuit TV. “I’m not quite up to all those steps, twice in one day.”
“I’d best get back,” Nate responded as he turned to go.
“Good luck,” called the man.
Something tells me I’m going to need it, Nate thought.
Ten minutes later Nate sagged back into his seat. Nan looked up and smiled, “Welcome back.” Nate looked around at the empty seats. Nearly half the people had left already.
The last graduate ascended the stage as the reader stumbled over his name. Who would name their kid Zachary Zane Zaremba? Good grief.
After closing announcements. the new grads roared and threw their expensive hats into the air. So much for that, thought Nate. “Let’s go,” he said to Nan, as he stood to stretch.
~~~~~~
The three Goodriches joined the crowd outside as families strained their necks trying to find each other. It seemed that more than one group had agreed to meet beside the statue. This was one time when it helped to be six-foot-three-inches tall.
Nate’s son, Rob, was even taller. At age nineteen and a junior at State university, Rob was home from college in time to attend his little sister’s graduation. In three weeks’ time he would be off again to Italy as part of an exchange program. But, for now, he was enjoying his visit at home and catching up with his old pals from high school. Truthfully, not many of them were still around, and so Rob had more time on his hands than he really wanted. Once you left home, things were never quite the same. Rob planned to crash the party where the newly minted graduates would be celebrating. While he checked out the fresh crop of eligible chicks, he would keep an eye on his little sister. Older and wiser, he knew what went on after those parties.
The hatless graduates moved back and forth, some carrying flowers and leather-bound diplomas, others with robes open, flying in the breeze. Nate’s eyes roamed over the crowd as excited families reunited amid hugs and handshakes. His eyes were never still. It was part of his training, but also, without realizing it, he was always looking for a certain young woman in her early twenties--someone who looked like the Goodrich clan, but also resembled Nate’s first wife, Ethel. Would he ever meet his lost daughter? Maybe someday, who knows? Nate snapped back to reality as Joy ran up and threw her arms around her mother, Nan, and then her dad and brother in a happy group hug.
~~~~~~
Nate knew he had to get some rest before he reported tomorrow on his assignment as a Federal Air Marshal. Over the years he had perfected the art of sleeping “with one ear open”. He knew precisely when a car drew up in the driveway and parked with the lights off. Jeff and Joy would be out there doing God knows what. Twenty minutes later he heard the door click closed and stocking-clad feet creep up the stairs to her room. Nate’s inner clock told him it was five o’clock without even opening an eye to check his watch. Next to him, Nan sighed and rolled over in her sleep. Apparently, Nan’s motherly radar was tuned in, as well. Ten minutes later Rob’s car returned. Heavier footsteps moved across the kitchen to the fridge, making no effort to be silent. Nate relaxed. His kids were home. He had one more hour to sleep before the bell rung for another work day.
Nate -THE SEARCH –
Dorothy May Mercer
Chapter 2 Sally
A cross the continent, Sally Millecan was already up and ready for work. She would report for duty serving on a cross-country flight for Alaska Airlines, an assignment for which she had waited weeks. Sally had worked hard to rise to a level in the company where she could pick and choose the plum assignments.
It had been her dream ever since she was a little girl playing with “Stewardess Barbie.” Sally had applied for the job as a flight attendant right out of the two-year community college she attended.
Sally’s single mom could not afford to send her to college and so Sally still had student loans to pay. That was okay. Her side job was paying off those loans. Sally loved her mother and appreciated the extra height with which Sally was endowed. It gave her an edge over other applicants for this good paying job.
Sometimes, in quiet moments, Sally wondered about that issue. Sally’s mom was less than average height, and so there must have been some tall people back in Sally’s lineage, somewhere. Could it have been from her father’s side? Sally learned, at an early age, not to ask questions about her father. Her mother would shrug and put it off with a non-committal answer, insisting, “I never knew your father,” or “I was never told.”
Today, Sally would be a senior hostess on the mid-morning flight from the Washington D.C. Reagan International Airport to Sea-Tac, the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport in the US state of Washington, or (in the IATA code) DCA to SEA. This midday flight was very popular for big wigs such as politicians, Navy and Airforce Pentagon people, and employees of the major airplane manufacturer and defense contracting company located in the area, traveling between D.C. and Seattle.
This would be a long day. The flight would take more than seven hours altogether, with a stop in DFW, Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, which was another busy hub for airplane employees and military contractors.
~~~~~~
Sally was working the first-class section. Dressed
in her smart uniform, she greeted the passengers as they arrived.
“Good morning Sir,” “Good morning Madam,” “Welcome aboard,” “May I take your coat?”
Sally had already served the crew with coffee, breakfast snacks, or their choice of a full breakfast. Now she turned toward the passengers and began to offer a variety of drinks and snacks. She was sensitive to each person’s need to talk or not. A few words and a smile were enough for most people, ending with an offer to be of any assistance. But, for a nervous traveler, a longer conversation might be in order.
Sally loved working first-class. It allowed her the time and opportunity to give passengers personal service. She enjoyed meeting a variety of people, as different as snowflakes. She was a natural. It gave her the perfect opportunity to become acquainted with certain people, in particular the special people she needed to meet for her “part-time” job, on the side.
It wasn’t anything dangerous, or illegal, so they said. She wasn’t certain about that last part. Maybe it was a bit shady, but she didn’t ask questions. She just snapped pictures, eavesdropped on conversations and reported, that was all.
Washington D.C. was overrun with lobbyists—influence peddlers, so to speak. It was just one big gravy-train. All Sally was doing is feeding at a little corner of the trough, perfectly legal, she was assured. Sally had no idea what became of her report, maybe nothing. Even though she was out of her comfort zone, it paid well, she reasoned. In ten months she would have her student loan paid off and then she would retire from this side job. After all, she could live quite well on her salary if she was careful, that is.
After a few weeks on this DCA-SEA run, Sally could spot the passengers who were involved with the aircraft compay, whether as buyers, suppliers or employees. She made it a point to memorize their names and greet them personally as they came on board. That would cause them to look up and smile. Occasionally, one of them would ask her out. She would thank them and point out that she wasn’t allowed to fraternize with the guests. However, she might mention that she always stopped at the Starbucks on the airport mall after her trip, or one of the restaurants or bars. Invariably the gentleman or woman would meet her there. Sally would feign surprise. “Oh hello,” she would say. “Weren’t you just on the flight from D.C.?”
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