Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (18 page)

She
soberly exited the app.

CHAPTER TWENTY

 “I
love your hair short,” Dorrie said, taking in Jeanne’s pixie cut, as they
greeted each other at Scottsdale Airport.  

“Linda
at Curly Locks makes house calls now, so she came over and gave me the works.
Look, no grey,” Jeanne said, shaking her hair, holding her father’s wheelchair,
and almost dropping her carryon in the process.

Dorrie
grabbed for the bag. “I’ll take that. Hey, remember the commercial, Hate that
grey, wash it away?”

“How
could I forget? You are dating us.”

After
they’d made it through the terminal and into the car, with Jeanne seated next
to Mike in the back, Dorrie switched on the air conditioning to block October’s
afternoon heat. As they rode, she and Jeanne caught up on gossip, while Mike,
who used to be outgoing, silently stared out the window.

When
Dorrie pulled up to the new home, the movers already sat out front, one in a
huge moving van, the others in a separate car.

After
instructing them to await a signal from Jeanne on when to proceed, Dorrie
joined her friend who stood staring at the house, looking stunned. “Oh, my God,
I don’t believe this place. It’s way different than what I’m used to.”

Jeanne
and Mike’s new home did look cozy, with its cream colored adobe exterior,
flagstone driveway and Southwestern landscape of succulent cacti, oleander and
palm trees. The location was ideal, also, mere minutes from the Institute and
in-town amenities, and about half an hour from Dorrie’s place.

“I
had the same reaction when Larry and I moved out here. It took a while to get
used to the difference. I’m still not completely attuned.”

That
day seemed an eternity ago, but actually only thirteen months had passed since
she and Larry had joyfully embarked on their grand adventure. She wished she
could get back that heady, hopeful feeling from then, but doubted it would ever
return.

Dorrie
clicked the trunk button to pull out Mike’s wheelchair. She helped her friend
make Mike’s transfer from car to chair, then Jeanne took over.

At
the front door Dorrie passed her friend the keys. “Oh, here, Jeanne. It’s your
house. You should be first to open the door.”

Her
friend tried the various keys on the ring, and finally got one to turn. With a
flourish, she swung open the door, and wheeled Mike inside. Dorrie started to
follow, but Jeanne’s earsplitting whistle stopped her in her tracks.

“Wow,
this is some place. Something’s got to be wrong. It’s way too good to be true.
Look, the doorways are even wide enough to fit the wheelchair.”

Dorrie
smiled. “It’s real, all right, and nothing’s too good for you. Let’s get over to
the bedroom and get Mike settled. Roman already had the movers set it up.”

As
they stepped into the room, her friend gazed teary eyed at the hospital bed,
with its bedding turned back and side bar down for easy access. “Your boss is
awesome. He thought of everything,”

“What
else would you expect from a genius? If anyone has a detailed mind, he does.”

A
genius except when it came to drinking in excess and getting his assistant
pregnant, but anyone could make a mistake. Smart he may be, but still as human
as she.

Dorrie
grimaced, thinking of her naiveté in accepting that first drink. Enough
ruminating about how the blessing growing inside of her came to be.

“Don’t
just stand there. I’ve gotta pee,” Mike said, breaking into Dorrie’s thoughts.

She
stifled a laugh at Mike’s all too human predicament.

“Okay,
Dad, no problem,” Jeanne said, assisting him into the adjoining bathroom, while
Dorrie waited outside.

“Shit,
I don’t believe this. Safety bars and everything! I take back anything bad I’ve
said about that Remington guy. He rocks,” Dorrie heard her friend say.  

She
smiled, feeling warm inside at Jeanne’s pleasure. When they re-emerged, Mike
complained about being tired. They both helped him into bed and under the
covers. “There now, Dad, rest your aching bones. You’ve even got heat control
on this knob here. That’ll feel good, I’m sure.”

Now
that her attention had shifted from Jeanne and Mike’s new home and its
amenities, Dorrie tried not to stare at the poor man. He’d aged drastically
since she’d last seen him, his face now drawn and ashen, his frame skeletal,
with bones sticking out where skin should be. How heartbreaking for Jeanne to
witness her vigorous father’s decline to such a debilitating condition. Thank
goodness the pill would make him whole again.

Once
Jeanne had settled Mike, she supervised the movers, while Dorrie helped with
the odds and ends. There were so many workers it didn’t take long for the
clothes to hang in the closets, and the furniture and belongings to sit in
their proper places, as if they’d always been there.

Dorrie
thought of all the boxes she’d had to unpack when she’d moved in, but hers and
Larry’s situation had been different. They’d been healthy, plus she’d enjoyed
the fun of putting away their personal effects.

Her
mind flashed back to the heartbreaking day when she’d had to remove Larry’s
clothes from the closet and pack them as donations. She would not dwell on that
now, in the midst of such a happy occasion.

When
all appeared in order, Jeanne reached into her purse, and turned to the movers.
“Thanks for your help. I’ll do the kitchen and the dresser drawers myself.”

“No
need for recompense, Ma’am. Our tips are already provided for.”

“You
don’t say. Well, I won’t argue about that. Thanks again.”

With
the movers gone, Jeanne turned to Dorrie. “I’m completely bushed from all this
moving business. Know a good carryout?”

***

Seated
at the kitchen table across from her friend, Dorrie savored the last bite of
her chicken lo mein. “Wow, that was good. So when does Mike start his pills?”

“Wednesday,
only two days away. I just hope we’re doing the right thing. I’d feel awful if
something went wrong. Dad’s been through enough already. “

“Relax,
Jeanne. Everything will work out fine. You and Mike will love the difference.”

“Hey,
what’s with the big sister act? That’s my job.”

Dorrie
laughed. “You’ll get plenty of chances to switch back; but first, in my
temporary role as big sister, allow me to return tomorrow and help some more. I
know it won’t seem like home until you see your dishes in the cabinets exactly
where you want them.”

Right
now where she lived didn’t seem like home either, but she was doing her best to
ignore the recurrent uneasiness since the invasion. No matter how hard she
tried, she couldn’t quite convince herself the burglar wouldn’t return.

“I’ll
take you up on your offer,” Jeanne said. “Oops, that’s Dad’s melodious voice. I
better see what he wants.”

“I’ll
let myself out then.”

“Take
care of yourself and the babe.”

“I
knew my big sister would return.”

“Never
left,” Jeanne said, as she disappeared down the hall.

***

Roman
had said to keep Mike a secret until everything had been set up. By Wednesday
at lunch, Dorrie could finally break her silence and fill Kelly in on the
latest.

Her
friend nodded. “A male spokesman makes sense, and the timing fits perfect with
your pregnancy.”

She
didn’t sound very enthused. The last thing Dorrie wanted was for Kelly, who’d
been such a lifesaver, to feel like a third wheel.

“You’ll
like Jeanne. Of course, she’s older, my actual age, but she’s really down to
earth. After her Dad reverts to forty-five, and she doesn’t need to keep an eye
on him, she can hang around with us. Some of the details are still up in the
air, like whether or not she can find a job then, but one thing at a time.”

“Won’t
that be creepy, with him being younger than she is?”

“It’ll
be unusual, but this way he has the best chance of returning to health. Maybe
Jeanne will take it later, too. Then, if she goes back to twenty-four like me,
their ages will work out perfectly.”

“Yes,
it seems so. What about your situation? What will you do once the baby is
born?”

Dorrie
signed. “That’s up in the air, too. Roman has promised financial support for
the child, but I’m not sure what that means. After the delivery, if my figure
returns and the baby’s well, I might get to go back to commercials.

“If
I need a cesarean or can’t shed the baby fat, I’m not sure what Roman will have
me do. There are way too many variables.”

 “Think
positive. You’re over three and a half months along already and looking great.
Afterward, the pill will control your metabolism. In no time you’ll be back to
your pre-pregnancy weight.”

“I
like your thinking, Kelly. I hope you’re right.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As
Dorrie’s girth grew, time flew. Many a weekend she spent at her friend,
Jeanne’s, with Kelly joining them when Doug had to work. Fortunately, both of
Dorrie’s friends got along well. Legs propped on the ottomans, they’d chat and
watch DVDs, while Mike slept.

One
Sunday evening, when it was just Jeanne and Dorrie, her friend turned to her
during the commercial. “I know I should feel grateful, but shit, sometimes I
get so aggravated. It’s already December, over two months since Dad started
that pill and I don’t see any difference. In the meantime, I have to keep
dragging him back and forth to the Institute for photos and videos and all that
other documentation stuff.

“I
tell you, none of it’s easy with his disposition. Dad wasn’t a saint before,
but now he’s a real bear. Those pills better kick in soon or I’ll go stark
raving mad.”

“Jeanne,
my dear, I gotta go bad. Get in here right now,” came Mike’s voice from the
bedroom.

“See
what I mean?”

Sighing,
Jeanne pulled herself off the couch. “Right with you, Dad.”

Dorrie
frowned, thinking of her own experience with the pill. At this stage, she’d
already shown some progress toward growing younger, but that didn’t seem to be
happening with Mike. Maybe it was different for guys, or people who started out
older than she’d been, and results would happen once the three months had
elapsed. She hoped so or she’d not be the only one disappointed.

“Shouldn’t
Mike show some signs of improvement by now?” she asked Roman the next morning.

He
frowned. “It’s not been the full three months. Everyone’s different. Be
patient.”

“I
just hope nothing goes wrong.”

“You
doubt my pill?”

“Sorry,
I didn’t mean it like that. You know me. I’m a nervous Nellie.”

Roman
laughed. “I was only teasing, beautiful one.”

“Beautiful?
You mean bloated, don’t you?”

“Every
pregnant woman should look as gorgeous. Tell you what. We’ll do some shots this
afternoon so we can show you off later.”

“But
what if something bad happens?”

“We’ll
cross that bridge when we come to it. There’s nothing wrong with being prepared
and keeping the photos on hand. Think of the bombshell effect. Though you never
thought it  possible, you conceived. Your beautiful child is a miracle,
which would not have occurred without the wonders of the young pill. My part in
the conception will remain our little secret.”

Dorrie
flushed at the thought, but ignored her discomfort. Other points needed
clarification. “So I can still be your model?”

“If
all works well, yes, and maybe the kid, too.”

“And
if I can’t model, will I disappear into oblivion, or can I stay on in the
office somewhere?”

“Don’t
worry your pretty head. We’ll work it out. Maybe it’s time for a day care
center here.”

That
sounded hopeful. It would be easier to continue on at the Institute instead of
hunting for another job. Now if only Mike would turn young again like he was
supposed to, then everything would fall into line.

***

Her
cell phone rang early the next morning, an hour before Dorrie’s alarm was set
to go off. A glance at the Caller ID set her heart racing. Finally, it was
happening. Mike had to be young again and Jeanne was excited to share the news.

Dorrie
grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

Sobs
greeted her.

“Jeanne,
what’s the matter?”

“Dad’s
died.”

Dorrie’s
stomach turned. “My, God, no, that can’t be.”

“Oh,
yes, it can. It happened an hour ago. He said he couldn’t catch his breath, so
I called the paramedics. When they got here, he had a fever and a superfast
heart rate. They slipped an IV in to slow the rate down, but it was out of
control. He didn’t even make it to the hospital.”