She was dying. Cory wasn't putting up with it!
Author Notes:
It is a fact that twins and sometimes children enjoy lifelong connections transcending distance & time. With that in mind, this story is a tribute to my wife, who has put up with me for 35 years.
For years she'd ask me if I felt there was someone out there. An only child, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was missing. I had no such feelings.
Her stepfather died, and we discovered her mother was descending into dementia, something he had been covering up. When she confessed a month later that there had been a sister born two years before her and given up for adoption, we didn't know how to take it. Dementia, fantasy or was this the truth?
I put my internet skills to work and built a site keyworded around what information we had. It took a couple of months, but one day we came home, and I checked my email.
"I think I'm the person you're looking for!" was the message.
I literally felt the blood drain out of my face. We'd found her.
Connections, through time, space and blood. My wife had it, and now a sister to prove it!
***********
"I don't want to be with you anymore, Cory! The wedding is off!"
"But...," Cory sputtered, "our tickets! You wanted to go someplace romantic for Valentines!"
"Keep 'em," Sheila suggested. "It's over!" With an audible click, she was gone.
Cory stared at his phone with disbelief. Two years with her and his fiancée dumps him just before they leave for a trip, she talked him into? Never mind their wedding plans for next summer.
Thirty minutes later, he was even more pissed. He couldn't change the tickets to take a friend or get a refund. He was stuck. Angrily, he logged into their joint account they'd been saving together for a wedding. They'd been contributing according to a percentage based on their salaries. He took his seventy-five percent of the balance plus the cost of his hotel and plane tickets and moved it over to his own account, then changed the password he'd trustingly shared with her. It was her idea; she could pay for his trip. Lastly, he took her ticket, put it in an envelope, and took it down to the mailbox. By the time she got it, the plane would be in the air. If she changed her mind, tough shit! He was going alone.
**********
"Seriously, mom, I'm old enough to make my own decisions."
"I know, baby, but I'm worried about your health."
Jamie blew a loud raspberry. "That ship has sailed, mom. It's not going to change, and I need to enjoy the time I have left."
"But if you...!"
"I've done it for years. I don't want to live like this anymore. I've made my mind up. I'm going."
Jamie hung up the phone on her weeping mother. She felt guilty, but it was time to take control.
**********
Cory was sitting in the airport departure area reading his Kindle, waiting for his plane three days later.
"Excuse me."
He looked up to see a girl in a wheelchair. She was pretty, although her face was somewhat gaunt, her arms and body looking like several good meals wouldn't go to waste. Her skin tone didn't look all that healthy either. Still, for some reason, his interest quickened.
She nodded toward his travel bag protruding out into the aisle. Her chair couldn't get past.
"I'm so sorry," Cory exclaimed, bending down and pulling the bag underneath his chair.
She wheeled on past, muttering, "Fuckn asshole."
Stunned at her rudeness, he watched her make her way over to the departure counter and understood her frustration. People had haphazardly dropped bags all over, and she was having a difficult time getting through. She had to stop several times while people cleared a path for her.
She finally made it, so he went back to his Kindle.
They called his flight. He grabbed his stuff and started moving in that direction. Although they loaded the disabled and small children first, his seat was in the back; he'd be on the second call. It suddenly occurred to him that the back was also where they put handicapped people and stored their wheelchairs. That meant...Oh, fuck! He could only hope Miss Personality Plus wasn't sitting next to him.
Making his way down the plane aisle, he mentally cursed, spotting her sitting next to the window in the last row. His row. It wasn't a total loss, though. He had the aisle seat, which meant whoever was in the middle could enjoy her stellar personality.
He put his bag up in the bin and nodded at her as he sat down. She rudely rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window, ignoring him.
The hum of passengers getting settled, putting baggage into the upper bins continued while the plane filled. Finally, he heard the front door latch, and the sudden pressure in his ears told him the interior air conditioning had been switched on. There was no one left in the aisles, and the seat between them was still empty. Of course! It finally dawned on him that it was Sheila's seat, and Sheila wasn't coming. Cory groaned with dismay. Although socializing didn't seem to be Miss Personality's strong point, he'd have to put up with his new neighbour.
The plane jerked backward as the tractor pulled it away from the terminal and ten minutes later thundered down the runway. When it bounded into the air with an abrupt lift, he heard a startled squeak, and she fished in front of her for a vomit bag. He grabbed his and held it out for her as a backup just in case. She flailed her arm at him knocking his hand away, so he dropped the bag beside her and withdrew.
She puked into the bag three times before folding it up and setting it on the seat beside her. Wiping the back of her hand over her lips, she grimaced at the horrid taste in her mouth. Cory reached for the stewardess button.
When the stewardess finally made her way down the aisle, he nodded toward the girl and her puke bag on the seat.
"Oh dear, sweetie. Let me take care of that for you. Would you like some water?"
Miss Stellar Personality nodded and pointed up at the baggage bins. "I need my pills, please."
Cory jumped up. "Why don't I get her bag while you get the water."
He opened the bin and grabbed the pink one.
The stewardess was back in a minute with water to rinse her mouth and spit out, along with a bottle of water to drink.
Miss Determined-to-make-everyone-else-miserable, did nothing to improve her standing. Handing her bag back to Cory and the spit bowl back to the stewardess, she thanked nobody. Curled up, cradling the bottle of water, she went back to brooding, staring out the window.
Cory counted that flight as the longest, ugliest flight of his short life. He was a sociable guy and could get along with almost anyone. Except for her, apparently. Once they landed and got ready to deplane, he handed her bag down to her and opened his mouth to say goodbye. The words died in his mouth with the look of scorn and hatred she gave him.
What a bitch, he thought.
The customs lineup was long and slow. He noticed her over in a line devoted to handicapped people. The customs officer there had her pill bottles lined up in front of him, and it was obvious he was giving her the third-degree over them. He could see the bitter look on her face as she almost spat her answers back to him.
"Somebody, you know?"
That brought his attention back to the customs officer in front of him now. "Sorry, not really. I sat beside her on the flight and from everything I saw she's really sick. I've seen the difficulties she's been through at the airport back home and on the flight. I kinda feel sorry for her. It isn't easy to be handicapped and travel. That other officer looks like he's really giving her the third degree over her prescriptions."
"He has a reputation," the officer said diplomatically. "Anything to declare?"
"No."
The officer waved him through. Walking out of the airport, he could see her still explaining her various medications to the customs guy. Suddenly he had the craziest vision of her losing her temper with the idiot and blowing the roof off the airport when she exploded. He chuckled; the idiot had no idea what a short fuse he was dealing with.
It felt like a weight lifted off his chest, walking out into the warm tropical sunshine. He found his hotel bus and handed over his luggage. Two weeks of eating, sleeping, drinking, and lying on the beach. It sounded like an ideal place to mend after Sheila shit all over him.
Checked into the hotel, he made his way to his suite. Stripping down, he bounced on the bed. A nap seemed like a perfect project right now before finding something to eat.
A while later, after a refreshing nap, a quick shower and a change to cooler clothes, he opened the door to the hallway. Across the hall, the girl in the wheelchair was wheeling out of her room.
They both froze. Instinctively, it was on the tip of his tongue to say hi when she gave him another scornful glance.
"You again?" she spat out like she'd just discovered dog shit on her shoe.
Cory lost it. "I've seen all the pill bottles you're packing, lady, but you might have left the one with the nasty pills at home. This is supposed to be a fun vacation, not an episode in your personal vendetta against strangers. Don't bother talking to me again."
He stalked off down the hallway.
He hadn't made it far when he heard faint sobs behind him. He almost turned to go back and apologize, but shit, this was all on her. There was no reason for him to say sorry.
Sitting staring out at the ocean view while waiting for his food, he noticed her wheel in. Although the restaurant was empty at that time of day, she picked a table as far away from him as possible. He shook his head. Whatever that woman had stuck in her craw was her problem, although it was a pity. She was cute; they were both here alone. They might have had some fun together as friends.
It seemed to be his luck lately to get shit on by women.
That brought him full circle back to Sheila. What had happened there? The last few days, he'd gone over and over their relationship in his mind. There had been some episodes where she seemed distracted lately but not a hint that she was unhappy with their lives and where they were headed. Then out of the blue...!
