Flight to Freedom (Flight Trilogy, Book 3) (18 page)

“I hate it when you have to work on weekends.”

“I know…me, too.” He looked at her and faked a smile. “But just think…now I’m off all week.”

“I guess so, but it’s not the same. You already have to work enough weekends without volunteering for them.”

“You’re right. I should have said no to crew schedule. That will be the last time, I promise. I’ll never do crew scheduling a favor again.”

“It’s fine. I guess there will be other weekends.”

I’m
glad
that’s
over
.

He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight. “Maybe we can do something special to make up for it.”

“What did you have in mind?”

He took her hand. “How about a date…dinner and a movie. You pick the restaurant and the movie.”

“Are you saying you’ll watch any movie I choose?” She perked up.

“Anything.” He had no options.

“Okay, but instead of a dinner date, let’s do lunch. Then after lunch come back home and cuddle up and watch my favorite movie of all times,
Gone
with
the
Wind
…beginning to end.”

“Sounds great!” he lied. The thought of four hours of Scarlett O’Hara was almost more than he could bear. However, the thought of cuddling up with Keri in the afternoon did sound nice.

“I’ve got another idea,” she said.

“A different movie?”

I
shouldn’t
have
said
that
.

She shot him a questioning look.

“Just kidding,” he said.

“Instead of going out for lunch, let’s pick something up and bring it back here. That way we will have time to watch the entire movie before David and Martha get out of school.”

“Whatever you say. It’s your day.” Her excitement tempered his guilt. It was the perfect escape.

“So which day do you want to do it? Tomorrow or Thursday?” she said.

“Let’s do it tomorrow. Then we can plan something else for Thursday.”

“Wow! This is turning out to be much better than a boring weekend. We should do this more often,” she said. They laughed.

She was happy. He had done it; his guilt was almost in complete remission. Tomorrow they would get lost in the worries of Scarlett and Rhett and forget about everything else. Watching Atlanta burn would hopefully keep his mind off how badly he would get burned if Keri ever found out about his escapades to Georgia.

CHAPTER 25

Southern
California

Wednesday
afternoon
—
April
23
,
2003

Ryan and Keri were comfortably nestled on the sofa. Seeing Keri deeply engrossed in the movie had given him a peaceful satisfaction. However, the whirlwind of drama that resulted mostly from Scarlett O’Hara’s wicked attempts at manipulation, deception, and lies, reminded him of his own twisted plans. He was no better than the evil character, Scarlett.

* * *

As the final scene played, he saw himself as Scarlett, begging Keri not to leave him after finding out about his trips to Atlanta and numerous lies. “Oh Keri!” Keri walked to the bedroom door. “Keri!” He runs down the stairs after her. “Keri, Keri!” He catches her as she’s walking out the front door. “Keri! Keri…if you go, where shall I go, what shall I do? I promise…all of the lies…all of the trips to Atlanta…it was all for us—our future. Please don’t leave me. What will I do without you?”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Keri walked off into the fog as the orchestral music heightens, bringing the intense drama to a close.

Ryan’s heart sank. He was alone…or at least that’s the way he imagined it could be if Keri found out what he was doing behind her back. Scarlett simply said she would think about it tomorrow, and closed the door. After shedding a few tears, she remembers Tara and any thought of Rhett is quickly replaced by her love for the red dirt of her homeland. Losing Keri would not be so easy. If Keri left him, he would need more than the red dirt of Georgia to get over her.

“Wasn’t that wonderful?” Keri said. “Didn’t you just love it?” She snuggled up close and kissed him. “Thank you for a wonderful day—the best ever!”

“I enjoyed every minute,” he lied. He was disturbed how easily the lies rolled off his tongue with little restraint.

“How are you going to top that tomorrow?”

“Let me think.” He had nothing. He had promised her a second day of escape, but he had no idea what to do. To be honest, if he could leave for Georgia today, he would.

“I know you’ll think of something. You are so romantic.” She kissed him with passion.

When she pulled back, he said, “We
could
do more of
this
tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.” She kissed him again.

Her affection heaped coals of fiery guilt on his heart.

She pulled him to his back on the sofa and straddled her legs on top of him. “I’m not going to let you leave me like Rhett left Scarlett.” Her voice was breathy with a slight quiver. Her eyes were filled with passion.

Right
here
in
the
living
room
at
three
o’clock
in
the
afternoon
?

“What about the kids? Don’t we have to pick them up?” he said.

She pulled his T-shirt off. “No. They have stuff to do after school. They won’t be home for hours.” She stood up and slipped her shorts off followed by the rest of her clothes. Then, like a magician, she stripped him of his workout shorts and underwear. She grabbed a blanket and returned to her mounted position. Her body was like a furnace. His thoughts were scrambled as his animal instincts took over. For whatever reason,
Gone
with
the
Wind
had triggered her passions. Perhaps it was the thought of Scarlett’s constant longing for Ashley, or maybe her secret love for Rhett—possibly the red dirt of Tara.

CHAPTER 26

Southern
California

Friday
morning
—
April
25
,
2003

Ryan exited the 73 toll road at MacArthur Boulevard and drove north towards the John Wayne—Orange County Airport. Within minutes, he spotted the Mercy Flight Gulfstream standing tall on the ramp in front of Signature Flight Support.

Waiting at the traffic light on the corner of MacArthur and Campus Drive, he glanced to his left at a Starbucks he had frequented on numerous occasions. He took it as a sign that his trip back to Buckhead, Georgia to locate Angel was the right thing to do; even though he had lied to Keri, telling her he was instead flying a trip to Maui.

Once he located Angel, he would no longer need to lie. He was absolutely convinced she was his ticket to the most important dream regression of all—the driveway in front of Keri’s house, sitting in his 1965 four-door Chevrolet Impala. That was the one place—the only place—in all of time where he would have the chance to change every mistake in his past.

The driver behind him blew the horn. Ryan had not noticed the light had changed. He turned left on Campus Drive and into the parking lot at Signature. He parked at the far end of the parking lot away from the main entrance.

While sitting in the car, he quickly pulled off his uniform shirt and slipped on a white Polo shirt. He grabbed his roller bag from the backseat, locked the doors, and checked the time—9:50 a.m.

As he approached the lobby door, John was there to greet him. “Good to see you again,” John said. They shook hands.

Ryan withheld the urge to thank John, knowing John would only remind him of what Ronald Hart had said about doing
anything
. “Did you have a good flight over?”

“Smooth as glass. It’s a beautiful day for flying. I expect the same going back, plus a nice tailwind.”

Again, Ryan had to fight the urge to humbly thank John. “I can’t wait,” Ryan said. It was hard to believe all John was doing. Only a small elite group of humans who populated the social class tagged as the “Rich and Famous” ever experience such treatment. Personal jets to wherever their dreams desired; people dedicated as human shields to absorb the drudgery of life; and never a worry of having enough money to do whatever their minds could imagine.

“We are ready to go when you are,” John said.

“I’m ready.”

They kept walking through the lobby and exited onto the ramp. The stairs leading up to the cabin of the Gulfstream were lowered. Signature had placed a red carpet at the foot of the stairs. Without breaking stride, John led Ryan up the stairs and into the jet. He took Ryan’s roller bag and put it in a closet. “Ryan, you remember my son, Michael?”

“Yes.”

Michael turned from the copilot’s seat in the cockpit and offered his hand. “Welcome aboard Captain Mitchell.”

Ryan shook his hand. “Thank you, Michael.”

“Ryan,” John said, motioning toward the luxurious cabin of the Gulfstream, “make yourself at home. If you need anything let me know. There’s plenty of food in the galley if you get hungry.”

“Thank you, John.”

John closed the entry door to the jet and joined Michael in the cockpit.

Ryan took a window seat in one of the plush leather executive chairs in the cabin and buckled his seatbelt. Staring out the cabin window, he thought of Keri. He was blessed to have a woman like her as his wife. She adored him. She sacrificed everything to make his life wonderful. Very few men, in their wildest imaginations, would believe there was such a woman anywhere on earth like her. He loved everything about her. She could do no wrong—unlike him.

He hated that he was living a lie and Keri was the victim—the one person in the entire world that he loved the most. But he believed he was doing it for her—for them. If he stretched it, he was not
technically
lying—maybe a little, but for a good cause. He liked to think he was only withholding the truth for a short time until he could make things right. If he was successful in finding Angel, he might never have to tell Keri about anything. He would simply wake up in a new world where all of their mistakes of the past were erased.

After a short taxi, the Gulfstream rolled into position on the runway. The muffled whine of the jet’s engines spun up to takeoff power. Ryan gazed out his window as the world zipped by in fast forward. Higher and higher they climbed; objects on Earth growing smaller; the world slowing down. Unable to realize the speed at which they traveled, the jet appeared to be suspended—motionless—floating among the clouds. Frazzled from late nights and worried sleep, Ryan—now relaxed—drifted off to sleep.

His heart filled with a sense of great peace. The air was fresh with the scent of Spring. The warmth of the sun encouraged thoughts of the beach and the sound of gentle, rhythmic lapping of water against cool, soft sand. Life’s worries did not exist in this tranquil place. He was in high school. Keri was there, strikingly beautiful and unknowingly flirtatious. Her smile cast a spell on his heart, holding his eyes captive to her every move. He studied her oval face with alluring brown eyes and butter-soft lips, framed by her shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair.

She took his hand and moved it to her face as though she sensed his desire to touch her. His heart raced; his body tightened. She moved closer; her eyes telling him to kiss her. Their lips touched.

The jet momentarily jolted as it hit rough air. Ryan jumped. His eyes opened.

It
was
a
dream
.

He turned and gazed out the window at the earth below. He didn’t recognize the terrain or where they might be. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. He checked his watch—11:30 a.m. He breathed deep and exhaled.

Continuing to gaze out the window, he reflected on the pleasant sensation of his dream. He and Keri were young and in love—it was their first love. Their lives had not yet been scarred by regret, pain, and heartache.

I
wish
I
could
go
back
to
those
days
,
if
only
for
an
hour
.

* * *

After landing at Peachtree DeKalb Airport, John taxied the Gulfstream to the Mercy Flight hangar. Peering out the cabin window, Ryan noticed dedicated employees standing by, eager to coddle and cosset the jet—tuck it away in the hangar out of the sun where they could return it to an immaculate appearance.

John exited the cockpit. “Your rental car is parked out front and your room is booked at the DoubleTree. I’m sorry I can’t drive you there. I’ve got some work to do here.”

“John, don’t worry about me. I know my way around.”

“Also, I have a quick trip tomorrow morning down to Dothan, Alabama, but should be back by noon. I’m free if you would like to have dinner tomorrow night.”

“That sounds good. I’ll look forward to it.”

He accepted John’s dinner invitation hesitantly. If Angel showed up at the Starbucks on Saturday morning wearing her
Angel
perfume—as he hoped she would—and if the perfume sent him on another dream regression, there were no guarantees that he would wake up in the DoubleTree Hotel in Buckhead, Georgia. He could only assume that John’s reality would also shift, making him oblivious to their scheduled dinner meeting.

John took Ryan’s roller bag and walked him to the car. “I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night.”

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby.”

Maybe
.

CHAPTER 27

Buckhead
,
Georgia

Saturday
morning
—
April
26
,
2003

The alarm clock jolted Ryan from a deep, dreamless sleep.
Hotel
…
Georgia
…
Buckhead
…
Starbucks
…
Angel
.

He checked the time—4:45 a.m. Starbucks opened at 5:30 a.m.

He flipped on the lamp by his bed. He had plenty of time to shower, shave, dress, and then drive the short distance to Starbucks before they opened. If Angel was true to her schedule, she would be there first thing. He absolutely could not be late.