their dream.” She handed the sheets out to everyone. “I’ve assigned one staff member to each guest. We’ve already talked to the troupe who is performing and worked out parts.”
Ethan looked down at his paper. He was paired up with Bobby, a young kid, only about twenty, who had Tri-lateral Retinoblastoma, a rare terminal cancer which targeted the eyes. He tried to remember what he had read in his file, something about being diagnosed with cancer when he was eighteen months old and they hadn’t given him eight months to live. His mother, Elizabeth, or Sissy as her family had called her, had already passed away six years earlier from ovarian cancer. He couldn’t fathom what it would be like as a parent to fight for your child’s life from such an early age. Then to go through your own battle with it when he was still dealing with his. He did the math in his head. Bobby had only been fourteen when his mother died.
Looking up, he saw Sam staring at him. He wondered if his poker face was still as good at it used to be. Seeing her brow furrow as their eyes locked, he knew she couldn’t see past what he wanted her to—at least for the time being. Unfortunately, she’d seen him weak twice now. He didn’t want to make it a third.
“Good,” Sam said. “It’s almost time to go. Ethan and I will each be driving a van. Let’s collect our partners and get this show on the road.” She smiled at her joke and walked over to him. “Here.” She waved a set of keys in front of him. “Since I know where we are going, why don’t you let me lead the way?”
“Sure.”
They stood looking at each other, not knowing what to say for a minute before Sam turned and walked away. There was something about her, something healing and beautiful. He found himself being drawn to her like a moth to flame, which didn’t sit well. When she didn’t look back at him, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. In the past, women were always falling at his feet, chasing him, but Sam, she walked in the other direction. He began to wonder if the real reason he was still here was because of her. So far, his research hadn’t pulled up anything wrong with the resort, and no one would push themselves as hard as she did if she were only in it for the money. Sighing, he followed her out the door and walked to the second van, which was waiting for him.
“Hey there, Bucky!” Patty said and slapped him on the back. “Decided that doing some theater in the park is a little more fun than jumping out of a plane?”
Raising an eyebrow, he nodded. “So much more fun,” he said dryly. “Are you going to relax your daredevil ways and come with us?”
“Damn, Skippy, I am. They’re even giving me a couple of lines.” Her voice shook with excitement and she waved a script in front of his face. “I’ve been studying the play. I don’t want to miss my mark.”
“Which play are they doing?”
“Romeo and Juliet.” She patted the rose she had tucked behind her ear. “See, I’m all ready for it!”
Ethan gave her a small smile. “Looks like we’re getting ready to leave. You’d better get a seat.” He walked around the van, inspecting the tires before doing the same on the other vehicle. Needing something to keep him occupied and not having to interact with anyone was what he needed. He didn’t know all of Shakespeare’s work, but that one, full of hope and romance, death, poison, knives and suicide . . . the last thing he wanted was more death added on top of everything else he was dealing with. He shook his head at himself. What was he thinking? He was working at Last Resort, where people went to die. There was no escaping it.
He made sure Bobby was settled in—although, he’d been raised in such a way he could get around just as well as anyone else—and then Ethan finally climbed into his seat and started the van. Putting it in gear, he started the trip down into the city listening to the cheerful chatter going on behind
Ethan looked down at his paper. He was paired up with Bobby, a young kid, only about twenty, who had Tri-lateral Retinoblastoma, a rare terminal cancer which targeted the eyes. He tried to remember what he had read in his file, something about being diagnosed with cancer when he was eighteen months old and they hadn’t given him eight months to live. His mother, Elizabeth, or Sissy as her family had called her, had already passed away six years earlier from ovarian cancer. He couldn’t fathom what it would be like as a parent to fight for your child’s life from such an early age. Then to go through your own battle with it when he was still dealing with his. He did the math in his head. Bobby had only been fourteen when his mother died.
Looking up, he saw Sam staring at him. He wondered if his poker face was still as good at it used to be. Seeing her brow furrow as their eyes locked, he knew she couldn’t see past what he wanted her to—at least for the time being. Unfortunately, she’d seen him weak twice now. He didn’t want to make it a third.
“Good,” Sam said. “It’s almost time to go. Ethan and I will each be driving a van. Let’s collect our partners and get this show on the road.” She smiled at her joke and walked over to him. “Here.” She waved a set of keys in front of him. “Since I know where we are going, why don’t you let me lead the way?”
“Sure.”
They stood looking at each other, not knowing what to say for a minute before Sam turned and walked away. There was something about her, something healing and beautiful. He found himself being drawn to her like a moth to flame, which didn’t sit well. When she didn’t look back at him, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. In the past, women were always falling at his feet, chasing him, but Sam, she walked in the other direction. He began to wonder if the real reason he was still here was because of her. So far, his research hadn’t pulled up anything wrong with the resort, and no one would push themselves as hard as she did if she were only in it for the money. Sighing, he followed her out the door and walked to the second van, which was waiting for him.
“Hey there, Bucky!” Patty said and slapped him on the back. “Decided that doing some theater in the park is a little more fun than jumping out of a plane?”
Raising an eyebrow, he nodded. “So much more fun,” he said dryly. “Are you going to relax your daredevil ways and come with us?”
“Damn, Skippy, I am. They’re even giving me a couple of lines.” Her voice shook with excitement and she waved a script in front of his face. “I’ve been studying the play. I don’t want to miss my mark.”
“Which play are they doing?”
“Romeo and Juliet.” She patted the rose she had tucked behind her ear. “See, I’m all ready for it!”
Ethan gave her a small smile. “Looks like we’re getting ready to leave. You’d better get a seat.” He walked around the van, inspecting the tires before doing the same on the other vehicle. Needing something to keep him occupied and not having to interact with anyone was what he needed. He didn’t know all of Shakespeare’s work, but that one, full of hope and romance, death, poison, knives and suicide . . . the last thing he wanted was more death added on top of everything else he was dealing with. He shook his head at himself. What was he thinking? He was working at Last Resort, where people went to die. There was no escaping it.
He made sure Bobby was settled in—although, he’d been raised in such a way he could get around just as well as anyone else—and then Ethan finally climbed into his seat and started the van. Putting it in gear, he started the trip down into the city listening to the cheerful chatter going on behind
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