The Gemini Bridge

  The Gemini Bridge

  By Shea Meadows

  Copyright 2015 Shea Meadows

  All rights reserved. No part of this book, including its cover art, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, by any information or storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from copyright holder, Shea Meadows.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover art created especially for this book by Mishka Navarre and was commissioned by Shea Meadows for this use and copyrighted along with all other materials in this volume.

  Kindle formatting was provided by Durham Editing and E-books who also provided amazing support and technical advice as this book was being prepared for publication.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my husband Don who has allowed me to go absolutely crazy while writing this book and continued to love me anyway.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements and Artist and Author Information

  Prologue

  Ricky gazed at her unconscious sister, remembering how strong their bond had always been. They had been only four years old in 1970, but a scene vividly played out before her.

  Queen Tilda and Princess Ricky sat in a tight circular hug. The pitch-black cave filled with scary noises closed in around them.

  “What’s that?” Queen Tilda whispered in their secret language.

  “It’s the bear!” A quiver of fear traveled through Princess Ricky’s body.

  “There’s a different roar. Maybe a mean ghost!” Queen Tilda’s wide eyes seemed to shine in the dark.

  “Queen, there’s no ghosts.” Princess Ricky’s rosebud mouth curved down at the mere idea.

  “Is too!” The queen extracted an arm from their hug and pounded her royal fist on the cave’s floor.

  “Is not!” The princess extracted herself from the queen’s other arm.

  “But I’m queen and I said so. Don’t argue.”

  “I don’t care if you’re queen; there are no ghosts.”

  The queen crossed her arms and scowled. “My best friend is a good ghost, so I know better.”

  Princess Ricky’s chin trembled and tears splashed from her green eyes down her round face, a hollow feeling filled her heart. “I thought I was your best friend, not some ‘maginary ghost.”

  “I can have two best friends, one with a body and one without. Anyhow, you’re my sister, so you have to love me even if I like ghosts.”

  Before Princess Ricky could answer, the wall of the cave quaked, and a dark, slavering beast jumped on them, depositing copious amounts of dirt, twigs and hair.

  “It’s the bear!” the queen declared as the unruly animal licked the remains of lunch from their sticky hands.

  “I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Ricky pushed Stanley, the cocker spaniel, off and crawled from under the blanket-draped card table. She looked up at their beautiful dark-haired, green eyed mother standing over them.

  “Ricky and Tilda, take your tent down. I’ve got to vacuum. I saved this room for last to let you play.”

  Ricky turned to Tilda who had followed Stanley out from under their shelter. “See, Tilda, it’s a tent, not a cave, and the noise was the vacuum not a ghost, and you’re not queen.”

  Marie Banner shook her head. “I didn’t understand any of that, Ricky. You girls are too old for a secret language. You’ll be in school soon. People have to be able to understand you.”

  Tilda looked up and smiled sweetly. “I tell her and tell her not to baby-talk, but she does anyway.”

  Ricky whirled around to face her mother. “It’s her baby-talking, not me.”

  Marie scooped up her identical twin daughters and tickled them until they giggled. They looked so much alike, the only way to tell one from the other was their behavior. Ricky was self-assured and defiant. Tilda was calm and almost regal in her behavior; no surprise that she was always the queen when they played and Ricky the unwilling subject.

  “Stop arguing. Please take Stanley out to the yard. Tilda, fill in the hole he dug in the garden, and Ricky, brush the dirt from his fur. Okay?”

  The five-year-olds protested but obeyed, their sturdy bodies with the long black braids marched to the backyard.

  As she brushed the dog, Ricky called to her sister. “Tilda, I’m sorry. You believe in ghosts. But I can’t.”

  Tilda turned toward her twin. “That’s okay.” Tilda cleaned the last of the dirt from her hands and went to hold Stanley’s head as Ricky brushed him. “You know what, Ricky? We’ll always be best friends, ghosts or not, with or without bodies.”

  Ricky smiled, put the brush down, and hugged her sister. “Betta fredo alda. Best friends always.”

  Chapter 1

  June 2002

  Ricky Banner, dressed in her stained nurse’s uniform and scruffy white work shoes, stood in the ill-lit hallway. A suitcase and an array of plastic bags littered the dingy carpet around her feet. Tears streamed down her face as she pounded on her friend’s door. After the third round of pounding, the door opened, revealing the disheveled red hair and sleep-deprived face of her best friend in Chicago.

  “Em, I’m sorry. But, you said anytime, and Roy…” Ricky’s voice trailed off to a sob.

  “Come in, Sweetie; I tried to warn you about good old Dr. Roy.” Emily, dressed in an oversized men’s T-shirt, her countless freckles standing out like beacons on her pale skin, wearily helped Ricky collect her belongings. “I don’t know what made you go on the lease for that huge apartment with him.”

  “A combination of blindness and stupidity, with just a dash of self-delusion and hero worship, now that I have twenty-twenty hindsight.” Ricky dragged her suitcase into the living room and leaned it against the coffee table. “Are you on day shift tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, and I was at a party until an hour ago. We’re going to have ten surgicals and two discharges in the morning.” Emily brushed her unruly hair out of her pale hazel eyes. “But friends have priority over sleep.”

  Ricky leaned back in a leather lounger. “Here’s the Cliff Notes version. I came home early with a monster headache. Went into the bedroom, threw my stuff on the bed, and heard a yelp. I’d just beaned Julie Richards with my purse. She and Roy were getting it on.”

  Em snorted. “Did you bean her on purpose?”

  “Nope, it was dark, and I thought I was alone. Roy said he was pulling an extra shift tonight. But I think his idea of overtime was round one at our place, then round two at hers.”

  “Rick, you knew didn’t you? You’ve been making excuses for him for months. What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing tonight. I’m past exhausted. If I can camp here, I’ll face the mess in the morning.”

&
nbsp; “You’re not staying with him, are you?”

  “No, he wants to pay me for my half of the security deposit and take me off the lease. Julie is moving in. I’ll put my stuff in storage and then look for something else when he pays up.”

  Emily shivered and wrapped her thin body in the blanket on the couch. “Want to move in here? I wouldn’t mind a roommate, and it would help with rent.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but you and Phil are pretty serious. How many nights a week is he over?”

  Emily crumpled the blanket’s edge between her fingers. “Two or three, but it’s still at the fun and games stage. I’m not sure if it’ll last. He’s got habits that drive me crazy.”

  “I don’t think it would work with me around, Em. I’d feel like a voyeur. But I’d appreciate a room for a week to get squared away. I’ve got personal time coming and Stella wants hours, so I’ll take time off from work.” Ricky looked at her friend who was dozing off on the couch. “Go to bed, why don’t you? Are there clean sheets in your spare room?”

  Em nodded and stood up with a sleepy groan. “I’ll see you about four, after my shift tomorrow. We’ll talk. Hope you sleep.”

  “I will. It’s my usual coping mechanism.”

  Ricky followed her friend to the bedroom hallway and went into the room opposite Emily’s. Mounds of unfolded clothes were scattered over the bed. Assorted boxes and shoes littered the closet. Ricky found two empty laundry baskets in the kitchen, near the apartment-sized washer and dryer, and cleared the bed of clothes.

  She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled an oversized T-shirt from one of her bags. As she settled into the cold, empty bed, she grieved the end of her relationship with Roy Fields.

  Scenes of their affair drifted through her mind. He’d looked like a boyish hunk when he first came on her geriatric unit to oversee the surgical patients. Wavy brown hair, and a piercing gaze, slender but muscular, an engaging smile, Ricky was drawn to him.

  The first dates were delicious, with sweet gestures like singing to her and bringing her favorite foods to her apartment. They moved in together and within months they’d pooled resources for the deposit on a bigger apartment and were talking marriage. It seemed like it would work. Ricky was sure she’d found the “one”, not like her first serious relationship ten years before.

  Then she saw the same flirting he’d directed toward her continuing with other women at work. Em told her the rumor was he’d slept with a whole list of people. But Ricky thought that was past, until the day she saw Roy groping Julie in the med room. Stupid with love, she forgave him, but it hadn’t stopped. He had admitted tonight he and Julie had been involved for a month.

  Ricky rolled over on her side, trying to get comfortable, but her mind wouldn’t turn off. The only way to quiet it was to create an action plan. Tomorrow she’d offer Stella and Barb her hours for this week. That would give her time to remove her things from the shared space, store them, get her part of the security from Roy, then after that, she’d keep as far away from Roy as possible.

  Then another thought intruded: Do I want to keep running into Roy and Julie?

  It was a well paying, interesting job, but it made more sense to give notice and look elsewhere. With her education and experience, she could make a clean break and come out ahead.

  An important lesson for me: don’t date people at work.

  With that decision made, Ricky felt drowsiness closing in and her focus shifted from her unhappy reality to her dreams. At first, she dreamt of what happened that night, with the exception that her dream-self pummeled both Julie and Roy with her purse and vented her anger in eloquent terms. As she hefted her abnormally heavy purse upward to bash Roy again, she felt a hand restraining her arm. In the dream, she turned to see her sister, Tilda, standing behind her.

  Then the dream shifted, and Ricky viewed the sisters from a point in the corner of the room. The woman behind her looked exactly like Ricky, except the dream Tilda showed signs of her radically different mindset. Instead of short black hair, Tilda’s hair was long and flowing with white streaks. Instead of Ricky’s dream uniform, Tilda wore a gold, gossamer-thin dress that reached her ankles. The dream sister was about ten pounds thinner than Ricky, and her face was radiant, compared to the rage evident on Ricky’s face. Love seemed to flow from her green eyes.

  Dream-Ricky turned toward dream-Tilda. “What are you doing here? Can’t I have any fun without you interfering? I’m venting, and it’s not hurting anyone.”

  Tilda shook her head and smiled. “I told you he was not to be trusted, Ricky, and deep in your heart, you knew it. If you keep on beating him up in your mind, it’ll make you sick. Frankly, there’s something more important happening.”

  “And this isn’t important? I lost my lover, my dream home, and I’m quitting my job. What’s worse than that?”

  Tilda wrapped her arms around Ricky. “Remember when we were kids? Remember twin language? Remember betta fredo alda, best friends forever? Well, I need you Ricky; everything else takes a back seat. Will you come?”

  Ricky shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about, Tilda? What do you want me to do? You’ve got a whole truckload of weird friends who understand your needs. I haven’t been able to figure you out for years.”

  Tears streamed down Tilda’s face, as Ricky turned back to Julie and Roy who were watching the sisters from the bed. Ricky could hear Tilda repeating: “Betta fredo alda.” The words echoed in her ears as she woke up.

  It took Ricky a few minutes to remember where she was and why. Then longer still to review the revenge dream that had suddenly become a reunion with her opinionated sister.

  It’s just like Saint Tilda and her New Age crap. Forget and forgive my ass! If I called her and poured out my heart that’s what she’d tell me. But that “Betta fredo alda” stuff. I haven’t thought about that in years. Why now? Maybe my subconscious is telling me Tilda can help. I’ll call her later.

  Ricky checked the clock, eight-thirty. Em was on duty as unit secretary on orthopedic surgery. She’d be up to her ears in paperwork, so Ricky was on her own. Roy had the day off but was probably with Julie, so Ricky could go to their place without seeing him. The first step was to get back the security deposit. She didn’t want to mooch off Emily for long.

  After a quick breakfast of toast and tea, she called the director of nursing at University Hospital and gave her two weeks notice.

  Then she cleaned up, put on a jogging suit, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. There was a moving and storage company she’d used before, just blocks from the hospital.

  Ricky took her cell-phone from her purse to check for voice mail. She’d turned it off after the blowup with Roy. It rang as soon as she turned it on. The caller ID came up with her dad’s number in Eden Prairie, Minnesota.

  “Hi, Dad. Hope you weren’t trying to get me for long; my cell was off.”

  Here father’s voice sounded shaky. “I’ve left twenty messages. Your sister’s been in a horrible accident. She needs you. She may need a kidney. Can you come?”

  Ricky slid to the floor and sat in the open doorway of Emily’s apartment with her head cradled in her hand. That’s why the headache. That’s why the dream.

  “Okay, give me details. I have to know how long I’ll be staying. I gave two weeks notice for my job today. I’ll leave immediately instead.”

  George Banner cleared his throat. “She turned over on I-94 last night. She hit the median and had to be pried from the car. Thank heavens she was alone and didn’t hit anyone. They’re not sure what happened. They’re trying to figure it out, but she’s so banged up it’s hard to determine. She hasn’t woken up. Right now, she’s on dialysis and a respirator.”

  Ricky’s hand shook so hard she could barely hold the phone. Dad and Tilda were her only close family. “Roy and I split, so there’s nothing holding me here. I’ll pack what I need and have someone send the rest. I’ll move in with Tilda for as long as it takes. I s
till have my Minnesota nursing license.”

  George let out a sigh of relief. “When will you get here?”

  Ricky rubbed her hand over her eyes. “I have a few calls to make. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll fly instead of driving. Is there some way for me to get around when I get there?”

  “One of Tilda’s friends can pick you up at the airport, and then I’ll rent a car for you.”

  “Maybe Emily can drive my car to Minnesota next weekend, and I’ll arrange for a flight back for her. I won’t need a rental for long. I’ll get working on this and call you back. Hang in there, Dad. We’ll all make it through the tunnel.” Ricky’s hands were still shaking. “Are you going to the hospital? Do I need a number there?”

  “She’s in intensive care at Minneapolis General. Call my cell.”

  Ricky went back into the apartment, called the nursing director, and told her the newest developments. Next, she calmed her breathing and called Roy’s cell phone.

  “I have something important to tell you.” Ricky’s hands were shaking and her voice weak.

  “This isn’t a good time.” Roy’s voice had that angry, clipped tone Ricky recognized from previous arguments.

  “It’s not about us. You and Julie can stop worrying; I’m going to Minneapolis. Tilda was in a car accident last night. She’s on a respirator and dialysis and hasn’t regained consciousness. I’m quitting my job and moving back to help her, or at least be with her at the end.”

  Ricky heard a sharp intake of breath on Roy’s end, and his voice softened.

  “How can I help you? Do you need money?”

  “No, I’m okay with cash for now. What I need is your cooperation with sending me my half of the security deposit, should be about $2000.

  “I’ll handle it, Rick. I won’t cheat you. What about your stuff?”

  “That’s the second thing. I want the rest of my personal things, my books, albums and what I brought from my apartment. Anything we bought together, you keep. I’ll probably stay at Tilda’s house for now or with dad. I’m not sure. Dad’s address is on a magnet note on the fridge. Hire a mover and send me the bill.”