Page 150 of Enthrall
Cameron’s voice came from my headphones. “As far as I can remember, you just jiggle a few gadgets and hope nothing falls off.”
Lotte burst out laughing. “Will you shut up.”
Cameron flicked a switch on the ceiling. “Look at this as a character building exercise.”
“My character’s just fine, Dr. Cole,” said Lotte.
“She has a point,” said Richard.
“I’m the only one who’s allowed to be right,” said Cameron. “Remember that memo?”
“Oh yeah,” said Richard, “I remember now.” He turned to look back at me again. “Seriously, he’s the best pilot I know.”
Cameron flicked switches on the front panel, setting off a whirring above our heads, scattering leaves around us. A swirl of dust blew outward. The engine hummed as the rotaries chopped through the air, blurring the blades.
“I usually keep my eyes shut during takeoff,” said Cameron wryly.
“Thanks for that,” said Richard.
Despite this adventure, there was a hole in my heart, and a knot in my gut making it hard to breathe. Feelings of betrayal welled along with that old familiar grief as pain found a home inside me again. Confusing, conflicting emotions twisted in my chest over the thought that I’d soon be reunited with my dad.
Gravity pushed me down into my seat as the helicopter rose, banking left.
The grand view of Chrysalis shrank below.
WITHIN MY HEART LAY the possibility of forgiveness.
I couldn’t wait to see my Dad again. Though there was also a stirring of something unfamiliar for the man who’d put me through so much pain. It should never have been like this. I’d never stopped him from doing anything, ever. I couldn’t grasp why he’d rejected me. He might as well have been dead.
Had this been any other day, I would have raved about flying in a helicopter. It made me wonder what other skills Richard and Cameron might have. Perhaps I’d even have felt excitement for visiting the wine country for the first time.
We had made a smooth landing on Gabe Donnell’s helipad in Yountville. Abe wasn’t there because he was off training for Saturday’s game. As one of the Baltimore Ravens’ star players, he wasn’t due home for a while. His house was enormous, and from the air we’d gotten a good view of both his tennis court and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. We ignored his invitation to hang out there and merely walked the short distance to a waiting convertible Lexus.
We passed vineyard after vineyard with their lush bunches of green and purple grapes strewn upon vines that sprawled on either side of us. The greenery was a refreshing change from L.A.’s dry landscape. The open top car allowed this evening breeze to find us.
Sitting in the backseat beside Lotte, I balled my hands into fists of nervousness, willing Cameron to drive faster. He focused on the road ahead, having checked the location of the winery before we’d left. He drove with confidence since he’d memorized our route. Now and again I caught his reassuring smile for me in the rearview mirror.
Richard sat beside him in the front passenger seat and occasionally shared a word or two with him but mostly stared at the view. Lotte frequently offered a look of support and it went a long way to ease this uncertainty.
A well of emotions made me sigh.
And sigh again.
Running over the words I’d use to comfort him, I vowed to reassure my dad there was no anger but only joy with our reunion.
Forgiveness.
Richard’s love gave me the strength I needed to see this through.
There were so many questions. I was about to know more about my father than I ever had, and even other relatives too. Unanswered issues could be solved. I needed to know what he’d done with his life until now. I knew it wouldn’t be easy for him or me, but in my heart I knew we’d survive this. The thought of his embrace, the feeling of falling into his arms again, would be forever treasured. I marveled at my ability to let the past go. I’d come to understand. I knew I would. With Richard by my side, I could face anything. And Cameron too, with his remarkable ability to communicate with anyone. He’d see to it I was understood. He’d help me say the words that would no doubt come out scrambled.
A sign announced we’d arrived at Roscoe-Harvey Winery and Vineyards. Trying to calm my pounding heart and not leap out of a moving vehicle, I rested my hand on the door handle. Cameron slowed the car and brought it to a stop halfway up the driveway. I climbed out. A ranch-style house was surrounded by a white picket fence. Old brick surrounded by a lush landscape of trees gave away this estate had been here for years. A hundred at least. There was history here, the family kind, and I wondered how my father had found this place.
A ranch hand approached. “Have you come for the wine tasting?”
“We’ve come to visit Mr. Lauren,” Cameron told him. “Can you tell us where we’ll find him?”
“You have an appointment?”
