Flight to Paradise (Flight Trilogy, Book 1) (35 page)

Through the window, the plane could be seen pulling up to the jet bridge. “Keri, we’ll see you on board,” one of the flight attendants said. “Take your time.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a second.”

When Keri turned back to face him, he said, “Keri, did you know about Rex’s vasectomy?”

“His what?”

“Rex told me he had a vasectomy the week before your wedding.”

“That’s impossible! I mean…if he had a vasectomy, then how could I have gotten pregnant?”

Ryan explained, “After a vasectomy it can sometimes take a few weeks, or even a month, before it is completely safe to have sex without using protection. And as you know, it only takes one strong swimmer.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment. He spoke slowly, each word hanging in midair before falling softly. “Keri, there is a slight possibility that—”

With widened eyes and a face full of hope, she said, “Do you think it’s possible? I mean…if Rex had a vasectomy before we were married then it
is
completely possible, isn’t it?” Her eyes widened further. “Do you know what this means?” She placed her hand on his arm. “Oh Ryan, you can’t imagine how many times I’ve wished it was true.”

“I know, but it’s not for sure. Have you ever looked at the exact dates?”

“Not that closely. I just figured it had to be Rex.”

The agent appeared again, peering over-the-top of her half-glasses, frustrated, stressed, and frazzled. She said, “Do you think you could help me out here? We’re already late enough as it is,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’m coming.” Keri turned to Ryan. “I’ve got to go.”

“We can talk later. I’ll see you on board.”

“Okay.”

He took her by the arm. “Listen, everything is going to be fine.”

“Thanks. I needed to hear that. I’ll see you on board,” she said.

* * *

After boarding the plane and storing her bags, Keri began preparing the first-class galley. She couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that little David’s real father might be Ryan. It made her want to see David, to examine his features. Perhaps she’d not noticed that David had Ryan’s eyes, his mouth, or his ears. She wanted to believe it was true.

CHAPTER 64

“Next,” the agent called out impatiently.

Caught in a daydream filled with
what
ifs
, Ryan popped back into reality, his eyes meeting the glare of the gate agent. He quickly stepped up to the ticket counter, presented his company ID, and asked sheepishly, “Are there any seats open in first?”

Her head down, the agent continued typing as a thin smirk formed on her face. In less than a minute, he heard the familiar clicking of the ticket printer. Without any exchange of words, the agent reached over, took the ticket from the printer, and slapped it down on the counter with his ID.

“Next,” she called out, peering over the top of her reading glasses and beyond Ryan. Ryan glanced down at his ticket—“6A”: a first-class window seat.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You can board now.” She faked a smile and motioned to the next passenger in line.

After making his way down the jet bridge, he saw Keri standing in the galley. When he stepped on board, her eyes quickly checked the seat assignment on his ticket. A smile spread across her face. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Mitchell.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Ryan settled into the spacious leather seat and tucked a small carry-on bag under the seat in front of him. A moment later, Keri approached with two cups of coffee. After handing one cup to the gentleman in the aisle seat next to Ryan, she offered the second cup to Ryan. “One sweetener, milk, not cream but milk. Right?”

“Right,” he replied, taking the coffee.

The last few passengers trickled on-board, and the agent closed the entry door to the plane. After a short taxi, the jet thundered down the runway and into the cloudless blue sky.

Ryan reclined his seat, and for the next few hours, enjoyed observing Keri glide among the first-class passengers, occasionally catching her shoot him a smile or a wink. She seemed as lovely as ever. Thoughts of the life that could have been filled his mind just before he drifted off to sleep.

He woke realizing the plane was beginning its descent for Dallas. The memory of his dream was fresh in his mind, a dream of he and Keri married with two small children, still madly in love.

He glanced over the top of the passenger seat in front of him toward the front of the cabin. He saw Keri in the galley stowing a service cart. Reality rushed back into his thoughts.

Keri
is
married
.
She
has
a
child
.

The captain’s voice crackled over the PA. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain, may I have your attention. A line of weather has developed between the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport and us. Because of our fuel we are unable to hold, but instead will be diverting to Oklahoma City. By the time we land and refuel we should be able to depart and continue to Dallas. Thank you for your patience. At this time I’d like to have the flight attendants prepare for landing.”

The divert went just as outlined by the captain. They landed, refueled, and were off again, all within an hour. The trip down to Dallas from Oklahoma City was quick. The thunderstorms had moved across the airfield leaving clear weather behind.

While deplaning at Dallas, Keri said, “Ryan, I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk. I was so busy.”

“That’s okay. I think I dozed off.”

“Wait for me in the terminal. I want to say good-bye.”

“I’ll be out front by the gate,” he said. “I need to check the computer, anyway.”

After checking to confirm his departure time for his trip going out the next day, he pulled up Keri’s sequence and discovered she had been reassigned to return to Orange County. The delay caused by the divert had turned her three day trip into a one-day “turn-around.”

Concerned about how she would get home once she landed in California, he quickly remembered Rex had been taken off of his trip and would be there to pick her up.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Ryan, we never finished our conversation,” she said.

“Look,” he said, staring down at the computer screen.

“What?”

He tapped his finger against the glass monitor. “You’ve been reassigned.” She leaned in close, her hand still on his shoulder. He could smell her sweet scent. “Looks like our divert caused you to misconnect with your trip to New York. They’ve got you working back to Orange County.” He glanced over at the gate to his left. “That’s your flight over there, and it looks like they’re already boarding.”

“I couldn’t be happier.” She moved around in front of him.

“How’s that?”

“I get to see my little David,” her voice quickly changing from drippy sweet to attack mode, “plus, Mr. Dean has some explaining to do.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to wait until I can come out?”

“The sooner the better.”

“Okay, but promise me you’ll call me right after you finish talking with him. I’d like to know what he says before I call him, myself.”

“Oh I will, but when I get done with him there might not be anything left for you to chew on. I even suspect he’ll probably be calling you to beg your forgiveness.”

“Does me a lot of good now.” Their eyes met.

“Ryan,” she said with tender empathy, “you know I will always love you…don’t you?”

“Yes.”

She hugged him, then stepped back. “There’s something else we need to find out—immediately,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“About little David.”

“How do we do that? You expect Rex to come running when we ask him for a DNA test?” he asked, his words bathed in sarcasm.

“I think there is another way, but we need to know the blood types of all four of us: you, me, Rex, and little David.”

“So, how do you propose getting Rex to agree to a blood test? Or were you thinking of, somehow, drawing blood from him involuntarily?”

“I’m not sure we even need his blood.”

“How’s that?”

“I once worked with a flight attendant that had this same sort of thing happen to her. If I remember correctly, she said although blood type alone cannot determine the biological father, it
can
, however, eliminate a person as being the father.”

“How?”

“Every person has one of four blood types: O, A, B, or AB. With David’s and my blood types, there are only certain possibilities for his biological father.”

Excitedly, Ryan said, “So, you’re saying with David’s, yours, and Rex’s blood types, we can know if Rex is
not
the father?”

“Exactly!”

“That means if you had my blood type, you could
also
tell if I was not the father.”

“Yes, but even if your blood type shows you could be the father, we will still need to know about Rex to rule him out. And even though I have only been with two men—you and Rex—there is always the chance both of you have blood types that would work. That’s when we’ll need a DNA test.”

He looked away in thought, then said, “Well, it should be easy to find out Rex’s blood type.”

“How?”

“Do you happen to know where his dog tags are?”

“Ryan, you’re confused.” She chuckled. “Bill was the dog, not Rex.”

“Funny. But I’m talking about his military ID tags. They’re referred to as dog tags. Military regulations require every person in the military wear them. They’re used to identify service members who have died or been wounded in the line of duty. They’re little aluminum tags worn on chains around the neck.”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember them. But I’m not sure where they would be.” She thought. “The only place they could be is with some of his military things in a box he keeps in his dresser drawer. I’ll look when I get home. But what is so important about the tags.”

“Those little tags might give us the answer we’re looking for.”

“How?”

“Each tag is embossed with the soldier’s name, social security number, branch of service, religion, and blood type.”

She added, “And I can call my gynecologist to get mine and David’s blood types.”

“Great. Just so you know, my blood type is A-positive. So, all we need now is blood types for you, David, and Rex,” he said. “But what then? How do we determine which blood types do not work together?”

“There’s a chart. I’m sure my doctor will have one.”

He looked over at the gate next door. The agent was waving for Keri to come over. “You’d better go. We’ll talk later.

“Okay. I’ll call you when I find out something.”

“Sounds good.”

As she rushed away, she glanced back over her shoulder at him and smiled. He never had the chance to ask her little David’s full name. All he knew was David,
something
, Dean. When he reached to pick up his carry-on, his eyes locked on the luggage tag: “RYAN D. MITCHELL.”

He thought, Ryan
David
Mitchell. He picked up the bag and moved through the crowded terminal. “David…Mitchell,” he said in a low voice as he walked. Pride swelled in his chest.

CHAPTER 65

When Keri arrived, the flight crew for the trip back to Orange County was already on-board. “Hi, I’m Keri,” she said as she stepped aboard.

The lead flight attendant, busily setting up the first-class galley, shot her a cursory glance and said, “I’m Susan. Amanda and Candice are in the back.”

“The agent is sending them down,” Keri said. Susan didn’t reply. “You guys L.A. based?”

“Yep.” Susan quipped, continuing to work.

“I was headed to New York until our flight diverted on the way in. Turned my three-day trip into a turn.”

Nothing from Susan.

“Boy, things sure are screwed up out there. Glad I’m not an agent.” Susan didn’t respond. “At least now I get to go home and be with my little boy.”

Still nothing from Susan.

Keri turned at the sound of passengers coming down the jet-bridge. “Here they come. I’ll talk to you later,” she lied.

She made her way down the narrow aisle, her roller-bag in tow. One of the other flight attendants met her. The girl smiled, stepping between rows of seats to let Keri pass. “Hi, I’m Amanda.” An attractive brunette in her early thirties.

“I’m Keri. Looks like I’ll be working with you back to Orange County.”

“Great. You L.A.-based?”

“Yeah.”

Amanda motioned with her eyes toward the rear of the plane. “That’s Candice.” Keri glanced back at the young blond. Amanda chuckled. “I’ll warn you now. She’s a real piece of work.” Keri returned a puzzled look. “You’ll see. Gotta go.” Amanda slipped back into the aisle and headed toward the front of the airplane.

The young blond, about five three, wore the optional polyester uniform dress instead of the traditional blue skirt and white blouse. The polyester was considered too clingy and revealing by some flight attendants, but, by the looks of it, this girl considered “clingy and revealing” to be a good thing. Altered like a surgical glove, the lines of her bra and thin side-bands of her thong looked as if they were shrink-wrapped beneath the navy-blue polyester. She was thin yet miraculously big breasted—no doubt the work of a good plastic surgeon.

“You must be Candice.”

“Oh hi. Call me Candi…everybody does.” Hearing her high-pitched voice completed the package. “Don’t tell me,” she said picking up a small piece of computer paper. “You must be Lisa.”

“No, I’m Keri.”

“Oh. Wow. Bummer. You’re supposed to be Lisa. Not that I even knew Lisa, but she was just on the crew list. Whatever.”

“I was re-assigned. I guess I’ll be taking Lisa’s place.”

“That’s totally cool. Well, I’m Candi…or did I already say that? Whatever. Anyway, glad to meet you.”

As passengers filled the cabin, struggling to stow their carry-on luggage and shoe-horn themselves into their cramped seats, Candi began her show.

She paraded up and down the aisle, squeezing between passengers with her hands raised, as though she were practicing solo half-turns from her Latin Salsa dance class, the hem-line of her dress rising well above her thigh. The men couldn’t keep their eyes off her, especially when she made her overextended reaches into overhead bins to adjust luggage or retrieve a blanket or pillow.