A Second Chance

A Second Chance

Prequel to My Wildest Dreams

A Growing Wings Series

Trisha Faye

We are not promised tomorrow. Jenny discovered this truth the hard way.

Will her second chance at life be put to good use? How will her life change?

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Trisha Faye

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of authors everywhere!

This is a work of fiction. While A Second Chance is based on a true experience, with journal entries and reactions taken from real life, the characters, scenes and settings within the tale are fictional, created and embellished as a setting in which to tell the story.

Here’s to celebrating my own second chance of October 21, 2010!

I hope this story entertains, but also stirs up questions and musings about your own life. May your days be filled with joy and wonder as you celebrate life completely and fully.

Chapter 1

We all have big changes in our lives that are more or less a second chance.

Harrison Ford

October 21st

That’s the last time I let you buy our tickets, I mumbled to Carla. Coherent thought in this early hour was not my strong suit. It’s a good thing you’re my best friend. People that book airplanes departing at six thirty in the morning deserve to be lynched.

Carla simply laughed. She obviously felt more chipper than I did. Her three cups of coffee must have kicked in. Think of it this way, Jenny, the earlier we get to San Francisco, the more time we have for sightseeing before the conference tomorrow.

I hated agreeing with her. Getting up at two in order to get to the airport in time to check in is not conducive to me having a congenial attitude. Maybe after I slept a little during the three hour flight, I’d be in a more amenable mood. Possibly. All I know is that you owe me an In-n-Out cheeseburger. Animal style. To make up for this inhumane schedule.

Don’t worry. There’s one on the way to the hotel. I already have it all scoped out. She shifted her bulging carry-on to her other shoulder as we stood waiting in the growing line to get through security. Think of the bright side. No work for three days.

That’s the best thing you’ve said since you picked me up. No Crafty Hands. I heaved a huge sigh. "No annoying customers. No inconsiderate bosses. Maybe it is worth this ungodly wakeup hour. The craft store can survive without me. Vacation, baby!"

By the time we just about stripped down, made our way through the scanner, and waited for what seemed like forever before boarding, Carla’s morning beverage had indeed infused her body with a caffeine jolt. As I buckled myself in, ready to close my eyes once we were off the ground, Carla’s lips started moving. Yackety, yackety, yack. We were finally in the air and she kept chattering. I groaned to myself. Oh good God, will she never shut up? My brain felt numb. I could barely comprehend what she was jabbering on about. But, far be it from me to tell my best friend to shut up and let me sleep.

If I didn’t know that she loved traveling and flying, I’d almost think she was nervous about the flight. She finally calmed down and stopped her magpie prattle. As silence buzzed around my head, my heavy eyelids drooped and soon I was back in my beloved land of slumber.

A strange flush of heat suffused my body and woke me from my dream. I was hot. Hotter than I’ve ever felt before. It was as if a high fever had suddenly spiked.

My groggy brain tried to make sense of this new feeling. I wasn’t sick. I thought if you took my temperature right now, I’d be in the 103º - 105º range. If I have the flu over my three days of vacation, that’s it. I’m quitting retail. The past few years since I’d started working in a retail position I’d been sick more than ever in my life. If I came down with the flu over the weekend that I was so excited about, I was done.

But…the thought ran through my head…You don’t get that sick that fast.

Sugar. Maybe my sugar dropped too low.

As the thoughts kept tumbling around, I reached for my purse on the floor where a few pieces of wrapped candy were stashed in a pocket. As I fumbled through the purse, searching for a peppermint, Carla woke from her sleep.

What’s wrong?

Answers raced through my mind. But they wouldn’t come out of my mouth. And then the intense nausea hit me. Ugh! I am sick, I did get the flu from someone at work.

What’s wrong? Carla repeated.

I still couldn’t answer her. I looked at her. My mind answered her. But the words couldn’t make it to my tongue.

She was instantly alert, asking again, probably wondering why I was acting like such a dunce.

I finally uttered, It’s hot. And then – instead of struggling to say more – I was back in a dream. A very strange dream. Everything was gray and foggy. I didn’t see any colors. Just the gray haze surrounding me. And Carla’s face. She was acting weird. Her face would drift very close to me…almost to my face…and then she’d fade back, further away.

Back and forth she went. Close to me again. Then drifting back away.

No words. No sounds. No voices.

And the man in the seat in front of her. I saw his face too. Doing the same thing. Closer – closer – closer…then receding into the background again.

You know how odd dreams can be, where you’re one place, and then, instantly you’re at another place? This was how this was. I was in the gray, fuzzy world watching these two faces play their strange little games with me – and then – boom! I was laying there, looking up at a ring of faces surrounding me.

It was very odd - awakening from a dream and seeing a circle of strange people surrounding me, staring down at me.

What it the world?

What is this thing on my face?

I felt groggy and unclear. It was like swimming out the murky depths of a deep, deep sleep when your eyeballs are open, but the brain doesn’t function yet.

My hands fought whatever was on my face, although I don’t remember consciously thinking about it.

No. You need to keep it on. A man’s deep voice spoke to me.

Who was this man and why was he so bossy?

He kept asking questions. What was he doing holding my arm? Taking my pulse and getting all personal here? I was too tired and sleepy to struggle. I drifted back out.

Wake up! Stay with us! Voices echoed through the fog. Talking to me. Asking me odd things. They wouldn’t shut up either.

I gradually became more aware. I realized I was laying across the three seats on our side of the plane. My legs were somehow bent and up in Carla’s lap. I had an oxygen mask on my face, something attached to my arm, and a crowd of curious bystanders stood around me, gazing down at me, as if I were the flight’s entertainment of the day.

The pilot’s voice cut through the babble. We’re about thirty minutes away from landing in San Francisco.

What a way to liven up the flight. At least for everyone else. For me – not so much fun. I was too dense to make much sense of what all was happening. All I could comprehend were small snippets of the action here and there. I kept feeling the pull of the wooziness, calling its siren song to me, urging me to return to the gray world. The ring of live voices around me kept calling me back to the present, the world of strangers on an airplane.

Carla kept talking to the bossy man – the one who seemed like he knew everything. At one point she patted the side of my leg. She’s all wet.

Well, duh, I wanted to answer, but still couldn’t find my voice. I’ve had a fever. I’ve been sweating. Of course I’m all wet.

Soon - I think, as time didn’t