The hardest part would be lying to Keri. It hurt just thinking about it. The trust they shared was sacred. He continued to remind himself that he was lying because he loved her.
When he arrived back home, Keri was at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading her Bible. “I should have brought you a coffee,” he said.
“I actually prefer this,” she said, pointing to her cup.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I see you are not sneezing,” she said. “I guess you managed to avoid being attacked by the
Angel
?” She smiled.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll need
Angel
anymore.”
At
least
not
until
I
find
the
woman
named
Angel
.
“Did you have any interesting dreams last night?”
He paused. “All my excitement was
before
I went to sleep.”
She looked at him and smiled. “It’s all about happy thoughts before you go to sleep. Works every time.”
“I’m not gonna argue with that.” He wanted to tell her about his meeting in Atlanta, but he couldn’t. Knowing he was lying to her made him queasy.
After
I
meet
with
John
Dross
,
I’ll
be
able
to
explain
everything
to
her
…
then
she
will
believe
me
.
CHAPTER 16
Southern
California
Tuesday
morning
—
April
2003
Ryan showered, dressed in his airline uniform, and departed for the airport at 7:00 a.m. But instead of driving to LAX, as he always did to start his trips, he detoured to John Wayne Airport. He had several choices of non-stop flights leaving out of Orange County to Atlanta, but he planned to take the first available flight with an open seat.
Regardless of which flight he took, the three-hour time change and the four-hour flight guaranteed he would arrive during the madness of Atlanta’s rush traffic.
* * *
He touched down in Atlanta a little after 4:00 p.m. By the time he deplaned and picked up his rental car, it was almost five. With his airline employee discount, he was able to book a room at the DoubleTree Hotel for under $100. The hotel was only a few minutes from Buckhead Village.
After a grueling drive north through Atlanta, he exited the freeway. The area was comfortably familiar. His thoughts tangled between his growing up years and the more recent
other
life.
In his
other
life he had not lived in the ritzy and affluent Buckhead, but in a mid-rise condo complex on Pharr Road, just off Peachtree. The condo was only a few miles from the DoubleTree.
When he was young, he lived on one of Buckhead’s nicest streets and attended Pace Academy. When his father died everything changed. Leaving his mother penniless, they were forced to leave Buckhead and move into a rental in one of Atlanta’s less desirable neighborhoods. Regardless, he always considered Buckhead his home away from home; a place filled with memories of his growing up years—a time when he and Keri were first in love.
After checking into the DoubleTree, he took the elevator to the second floor. Just as he opened the door to his room, his cell phone rang. His heart raced. The number on the screen had an Atlanta area code. “Hello,” he said.
“Ryan, this is John Dross. Have you made it to Atlanta yet?”
“Yes, sir. I’m looking forward to our meeting tomorrow.”
“Ryan, I’ll pick you up at eleven. That way we can avoid the lunchtime rush.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you somewhere?”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’m at the DoubleTree on Peachtree Road near Lenox Square Mall.”
“I know exactly where you are. I think it would be easier if I pick you up. I’ll be there at eleven sharp.”
“I’ll be waiting. See you tomorrow.”
Ryan was amazed at John’s continuous over-the-top hospitality: his call, his offer to pick him up for lunch, not to mention the offer yesterday to take care of his hotel and rental car. What’s next? Offer to fly him back to California on the company’s jet?
Tomorrow morning he planned to be at the Starbucks located next to Barnes and Noble on Peachtree Road when they opened at 5:30 a.m. That was where he first bumped into Angel—in his
other
life. It was a long shot that he would see her, but he had to try.
Thursday morning he would return to the airport and catch the first available flight back to Orange County. Hopefully, he would have enough facts to persuade Keri that the
other
world did exist—not only in his dreams.
CHAPTER 17
Buckhead
,
Georgia
Wednesday
morning
—
April
2003
Ryan waited in darkness at 5:30 a.m. in front of the Starbucks on Peachtree Road for the employees to unlock the door. The drive from the DoubleTree was only a few blocks, putting him in front of the store ten minutes before they opened. He didn’t want Angel to sneak in and leave without him seeing her, so he made sure he was the first customer.
Finally
.
“Good morning. What can I get you?”
“Tall coffee, please.”
Customers trickled in slowly at first, but by 6:16 a.m. a line had formed. His instinctive memory should recognize the woman named Angel, but he chose a seat close to the door to capture the smell of the distinctive fragrance as she walked by.
If she was for some reason not wearing the perfume, he had his bottle, just in case. He placed his hand on his right pocket for reassurance of the star-shaped bottle. However, squirting her with the fragrance might present a challenge.
He checked the time: 7:05 a.m.
Still no Angel.
He would stay until nine o’clock. If Angel had a job that started at nine, she would have made her Starbucks run by then.
At 8:15 a.m. the steady stream of customers had slowed. He approached the cashier with his empty cup. The employee said, “Would you like a refill?”
“Please.” On the employee’s green apron, Ryan noticed the embroidery: LEWIS—STORE MANAGER.
When Lewis placed the coffee on the counter, Ryan said, “How well do you know your customers?” He knew Starbucks took pride in building a sense of community in their coffee shops. Employees were encouraged to get to know the customers.
“I probably know most of the regulars.”
“Would you happen to know a woman in her early-to-mid 40s by the name of Angel? She’s an attractive brunette, pretty smile, average build. I’d say she’s about five-six. Very friendly.”
Lewis looked puzzled. “Well…I do know a woman named
Angela
that meets that description. She comes in practically every weekend…early.”
“Have you ever heard anyone call her Angel?”
“Not that I can remember.”
Ryan distinctly remembered the woman telling him that the perfume had her same name.
“Are you sure?” Ryan said.
“I’m fairly certain, but she does match that description.”
“Do you know what kind of car she drives?”
“No. I’ve never really noticed.”
A wave of dizziness filled his head. Perhaps it was the caffeine, but more likely because he wondered if the woman Lewis called Angela was his Angel. Maybe Lewis was confused. He sees so many people it would be understandable.
“I’m willing to take a chance it’s the same woman,” Ryan said. “If I leave a note, could you see that she gets it. I’m visiting in town and will be leaving tomorrow.”
“Sure. She comes in almost every Saturday and Sunday morning.” Lewis handed Ryan a piece of paper and a pen, and then turned to take a customer’s order.
Ryan wrote:
Hi
Angel
,
You
might
not
remember
me
,
but
we
met
on
a
couple
of
occasions
here
at
this
Starbucks
.
I
was
talking
to
Lewis
and
he
said
you
still
lived
in
the
area
.
I
grew
up
in
Buckhead
,
but
have
since
moved
to
California
.
I
wanted
to
thank
you
for
helping
me
with
the
perfume
and
hope
one
day
to
return
the
favor
.
Perhaps
we
will
meet
again
soon
.
Ryan
Mitchell
He folded the note and passed it to Lewis. Lewis put it in a Starbucks envelope and sealed it. He handed Ryan a business card. “My name is Lewis. Call me next week and I’ll let you know if she got the note.”
“Thanks, Lewis, I really appreciate it. My name is Ryan.”
“Nice to meet you, Ryan. I’ll be working this weekend, so I’ll keep an eye out for her. I’ll also mention it to the other employees.”
This meant another trip to Georgia—another lie he must tell Keri.
This
could
go
on
forever
.
What
happens
if
she
is
not
here
on
the
weekend
he
returns
?
He checked the time: 8:50 a.m. He tossed his coffee cup in the trash and headed for his car. With plenty of time before John was due to pick him up, he decided to take a short drive around Buckhead before returning to the hotel.
CHAPTER 18
Southern
California
Wednesday
morning
—
April
2003
Keri had no legitimate reason to suspect Ryan was experiencing dementia or a mental problem, other than the one time on Sunday afternoon when he passionately insisted they had lived two separate lives—something he kept referring to as his
other
life. After she had suggested how it was easily explained as a dream, he appeared to agree. But knowing that the Alzheimer’s disease has a strong genetic component, and Ryan’s mother had suffered with Alzheimer’s, Keri couldn’t help but be cautiously observant of Ryan’s behavior for early signs of the disease.
It was 9:30 a.m. The children were in school and Ryan was in Central America. If she talked with someone at Ocean View in Laguna, maybe it would ease her mind about Ryan. Instead of calling, she decided to drive to the facility and speak with someone in person.
* * *
Ocean View was where Ryan’s mom had spent her last few years. Keri was familiar with the place, as either she or Ryan had visited Martha every day.
“Hello, Keri,” said a familiar voice.
Keri turned to see a short, heavy-set, Hispanic woman in her 60s. She was the nursing assistant that had been so special to Martha.
“Ana-Maria! How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine…right here where you last saw me. How is Ryan?”
“He’s doing good…” She paused.
Ana-Maria was the perfect person to talk to. She had been working in the Alzheimer’s wing at Ocean View for over twenty years. If anybody understood dementia and Alzheimer’s, she did. In addition to her many years of experience, Ana-Maria had also received her Certified Dementia Practitioner (CDP) certification.
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk with someone about, and you are the perfect person,” Keri said.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure.” Keri’s eyes filled with tears.
Ana-Maria took Keri’s hand and led her into a nearby vacant room and closed the door. Her face showed a caring concern. “What is it?”
“Is it possible for someone with early stages of dementia or Alzheimer’s to have confusing dreams?”
“Since dreams are stored in our long-term memory, if a person with dementia and short-term memory loss is reminded of something from a dream, they can think they have experienced it in real life, giving them an eerie feeling of déjà vu.”
Shivers crawled up Keri’s back like a spider. Her heart raced. She remembered how serious Ryan was about his idea of his
other
life. Water filled Keri’s eyes.
Ana-Maria put her arm around Keri. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Ryan.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “I’m worried. I know it’s probably nothing, but I just don’t know.”
“Is he acting strange?”
“It was just one time. He told me about a dream he had…well, it was actually more like another life he had lived. It sounded like he was confused, but he really believed it. After we talked for a while, he seemed to accept that it was only a dream. That was Sunday afternoon. Everything has been normal since then. He’s on a trip now.”
“I don’t think I would get too worried about it right now.”
Ana-Maria’s words sounded hopeful.
“You think he’s okay?”
“We have all been somewhere and had a moment of déjà vu. At least I know I have.”
“Now that you mention it, so have I.”
Ana-Maria said, “Our long-term memory is relatively permanent, able to store events as far back as when we were five or six. For Alzheimer’s patients, short-term memory usually goes first and is followed by their long-term as the disease progresses.”
“But what about the déjà vu? Ryan was persistent about trying to connect our present life with the events in his dream. He believes things happened that didn’t.”
“As the short-term memory starts to disappear, the long-term memory is often perceived as the patient's current reality. But this is after the disease is fairly developed. I really don’t think this relates to what Ryan is experiencing.”
“Ana-Maria, do you think I should be worried? Be honest.”
“No. Not simply because he had a déjà vu experience. Like I said, that is perfectly normal.”