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munch on? What do you suggest, Ms. Morrison?”

      Gin raised her chin and looked him directly in the eye. “Well, I suppose that would depend on what’s more important to you—your job or your life. That decision should help you put things a bit more into perspective. This was a wake-up call. Next time you may not wake up at all. Is your job worth that?”

      “Not really, no,” Terry said with a sigh. “I love what I do, but I’m definitely not ready to die. I have young kids and a beautiful wife who depend on me. I make a lot of money and I’m very successful, but no, none of it is worth dying for. What do you suggest I do?”

      “Get some balance in your life,” Gin suggested. “Your job is stressful, but you seem to thrive on it. You just carry it too far. Draw the line…take off weekends, be through at five, set some boundaries. Learn to delegate. I’m sure you have other people that can handle these sorts of issues when you’re not there. If not, I strongly suggest that you begin grooming someone. Next, start to appreciate your body, not abuse it. Regular exercise is critical. Find something that you enjoy that is physically strenuous and do it several times a week. Take walks with your wife. Set up a home gym if you don’t have time to go to one. Definitely stop smoking. Nicotine is a potent vasoconstrictor—tightens your blood vessels—which aggravates any existing disease. Rethink your diet: no fast foods, minimal sugar, no sodas, diet or otherwise, no processed foods, lots of organic fruits and vegetables. Maybe get a low-RPM juicer—an Omega or something similar that preserves the natural enzymes—and blend some fruits and vegetables into a drink that you like. Eat a salad at least twice a day—I even eat salad for breakfast, if you can believe that! Choose colorful things like apples, oranges, berries, purple cabbage, red peppers, tomatoes, carrots, dark-green things like kale, spinach, romaine lettuce, and the like. Throw in half a lemon, an avocado, some cilantro, parsley, celery, and a few nuts of your choosing, and you’ll have a pretty powerful meal! Eat less and not late at night. Minimize meats and then only wild or grass-fed. Get on a good supplement program. Drink plenty of filtered water. Cut down the alcohol to an occasional glass of red wine. No white stuff—white flour, sugar, or rice. No doughnuts, cakes, candies, cookies, pies, etc. No high-fructose corn syrup. ABSOLUTELY no diet sodas! Minimal, if any, dairy products. No GMO foods. All organics. Get plenty of rest—in bed by 10:00 p.m. Starting to get the picture, Terry?”

      “Wow, I don’t do ANY of those things, not even one! That sounds like a lot of change. I’m not sure I’m up to all that.”

      “Do what you can. Stop smoking, for starters. That has to be the most retarded practice on the planet. Start exercising! How hard is that? Find something you like and do it! Get more sleep. Cut out the sodas. Make just a few dietary changes, like the salads. Surely you can at least do that, can’t you?”

      “I guess. Sounds like I really don’t have much choice, do I?” Terry looked like he had just lost his best friend. “This really sounds overwhelming! I’ve been smoking for twenty years—I’m not sure I can even stop doing that, let alone all the rest.”

      “That’s totally up to you.” Gin reached down and touched his hand. “You’re a responsible executive, Mr. Kingsley. Run your body like you run your business. I’m sure you wouldn’t tolerate practices at work that you could see were ruining your reputation and profit margins, would you? Take care of your body in the same way. Wake up and stop being manipulated by industries and corporations that have no interest in your well-being. Take charge of your health as if it were your real estate firm. No slacking. No excuses. Just good performance. The universe is giving you another chance, and I’m your messenger. You won’t be running anything from the grave site!”

      “Wow, you don’t let up, do you?” Terry looked into Gin’s eyes and felt the warmth of her hand on his. For just a moment, and most unexpectedly, it felt like there were no boundaries between them—that she was him and he was her—both a part of something bigger and more beautiful than he could even describe. It only lasted an instant, but as their eyes met, there was no more separateness, no isolation, no struggle. There was only a gentle peace, an overwhelming sense of just being loved, and a surprising compassion and connection with all of life. For once, he was at a loss for words; he just wanted to hold her hand and keep that feeling forever.

      “Mr. Kingsley, have I lost you?” Gin’s voice suddenly brought him back to the world of time and space, hospitals and nurses, life and death.

      “No, I’m here, Ms. Morrison. Just had a flash of something I’ve never experienced before, that’s all. I hear you loud and clear. I want to be a part of life, not death. There’s an exciting world of potential here…things that I haven’t taken the time to explore at all. Thank you for what you said. I will leave here a different person because of you. I am forever grateful to you for that.”

      “Not me, Mr. Kingsley. I’m just the messenger, like we all are, if we allow ourselves to be, that is. Now go, change your life, and be an example for someone else who needs the message. I’ve gotta run now,” Gin lamented as she withdrew her hand and rose to her feet. “The guy next door needs more than any of us can give, I’m afraid. Best of luck to you, Terry. I know you’ll make it, and I’d better not see you here ever again!” Gin added with a no-nonsense wink as she left the room.

      Across the hall in room 210, it was a different scene altogether. The medication had mellowed Frank a bit, and he was starting to be a bit less combative, but certainly not what anyone would describe as cooperative. “Hey, tits…I mean toots…oh, whatever your name is, where you been? Little Frankie here’s had a hard-on for you all mornin’!” he grinned, patting a noticeable bulge between his legs and fortunately under the bed sheets.

      Gin rolled her eyes. Here we go again. God, I can’t stand this guy. I really just want him out of here. “Hello Mr. Scumby. I see you’re feeling a bit better, now that the cocaine is wearing off. Hopefully we’ll be able to discharge you shortly. Your heart rate and BP have settled down to normal. Looks like your behavior has as well.”

      “Well, darlin’, just seein’ that red hair and those tits o’ yours again has made the whole thing worthwhile. One of these days we’ll meet on my turf, and maybe I’ll get to enjoy a few of your other assets,” he grinned sardonically. “The thought o’ you droppin’ your scrubs back there in the hallway’s still on my mind, though. I’d sure like to see that before I go!”

      “Not much chance of that, I’m afraid, Mr. Scumby. I’ve got other business to attend to now, so if you need anything else, please don’t ask for me. I have really listened to more than enough of your insulting comments already today. I’m not sure if the doctor is going to discharge you completely or refer you to drug rehab again. Most likely the former, since you seem to have little or no rehab potential. At any rate, have a nice life and thank you so much for gracing us with your presence again today!” Gin was almost out the door when she heard Frank’s parting assessment.

      “Cute ass, Red Riding Hood. Hope I’ll see more of it next time!”

      Some people never change, she thought. As she passed by Mr. Kingsley’s room, however, she sincerely hoped that he might be an exception.

      chapter 15

      A Season for Grace

      Charleston, South Carolina

      December 2005

      Ryan squeezed through the aisle of the 727 with his backpack and roller bag as he headed toward the plane’s midsection and seat 21E. He had always loved the window seats and, when flying out of Portland, made it a point to sit on the right side of the plane in order to have the best view of Mt. Hood as the plane ascended just to the north. He was particularly excited today since school was out for the holidays and he was heading home to Charleston. Not only that, but Julian and Ben were right behind him. Ben slipped into the middle seat as Julian struggled to get his carry-ons into the overhead compartment. Ben had never seen Charleston before, and was particularly excited to see this magical place that Ryan and Julian had so often told him about.

      “Wow, I can’t believe I’m actually going to Charleston!” he exclaimed as

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