CHAPTER 1: Here we go...
Prologue
There is a point in every person's life that they can consider a defining moment. Now, a lot of people have that moment later in their life, and it comes in the form of a little ray of sunshine. It's like some golden epiphany. Unfortunately, that was not my experience. Not by a long shot. My name is Celeste Torelli, and my defining moment came when I was fifteen years old. It was not a ray of sunshine. It was not a golden epiphany. It was a tragedy and was, by far, even to this day, the lowest point in my life. It changed everything for me. I didn't know it then, but it would also change things for everyone I had in my life.
Celeste
As I stared down at the bloodied mess of a man on my table, I closed my eyes to steady my breathing. I may be used to it now, but it will never be pleasant to look at, by any means. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I opened my eyes again and set about pulling multiple bullets from his battered body. I swear, it actually looks like someone was trying to beat him to death with the bullets and they got stuck in there. There are so many bruises. Each time I removed a bullet, it loosed a small stream of blood from the hole. Six bullets. Six bullets that each on their own could kill a man. This man, though, was lucky. He will live. He is on my table, and I refuse to let any patient go without a fight. This one was way too close, though. If I had taken just five more minutes, things might be different. I closed him up and went for a coffee.
For starters, don't think I'm cold. This is what every night is like for me. I am an ER surgeon. A pretty damn good one, if I do say so myself. Back to the "go straight out for coffee" thing. I see terrible things day in and day out. It ranges from gunshot wounds to emergency fetus extractions to fingers blown off in firework mishaps, and everything in between. You know, your usual blood, guts, and gore. In this line of work, you can't hold on to every case. There are some cases that are borderline comical. One in particular where a dog stole a knife off the kitchen counter and stabbed his owner in the foot. The owner found it funny too. Those cases are few and far between though. A vast majority of my night is dealing with the horrible cases like the one I just dealt with back there. Those are the cases that if you don't let it go, it could eat you alive. After surgery, drinking a hot cup of black coffee on the roof lets me clear my head. Looking out over the night sky with the Chicago cityscape as the foreground, my tension slowly melts away. It's a stress - filled existence, but it's mine, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I know every case probably causes another gray hair, but that's why man invented hair dye, right?
Ricco
Standing at the window in my office, my mind has once again turned to Arianna. Not a day has gone by in the fourteen years since she passed that she wasn't in my thoughts. It has become more frequent lately, though. She was the love of my life, my wife, and the most amazing mother. The day she passed, it felt like my heart stopped.
Like the very soul had been ripped from my body. I raced to the hospital where she was taken. As I ran through the ER to the emergency surgery area, I came to a dead stop at the waiting area. There, in a hard chair, sat the only reason I had left to live. The reason I had to pull it together. The reason I needed to be strong. Our fifteen - yearold daughter, Celeste. She had been with Arianna when the accident happened. I could see the fear, anger, and sadness in her face. I ran to her and embraced my little girl tightly. A voice floated up in nothing more than a whimper, "She died, Daddy. I couldn't save her." The only thing that followed was the shaking sobs of my only daughter.
I was quickly pulled back to reality by the knocking on my door. "Yes?"
My assistant peers around the door. "Mr. Torelli, your one o'clock is here."
"Yes, send him in. Thank you, Mrs. Todd." I went back to my desk, straightened my tie, that I had unconsciously been balling in my fist. I sat down waiting for the door to open, trying to calm my nerves.
The door opens and a booming voice fills the room. "Ricco!"
"Hey, Anthony! Good to see you. Sit, please."
"It's getting close," he says with an almost sad smirk on his face.
"I know. I can't believe how old we are," I retort, trying to lighten the mood.
"Have you talked to Celeste yet?" he says as he chuckles.
"Not yet. She's been on night shift for a few months now, so we don't see each other too often."
"Ricco, you've got to tell her. The retreat is next month. If you don't tell her soon, you are going to incur her wrath."
I can't help but let out a big belly laugh. "I know, I know. Isn't it funny how one petite little woman, my daughter no less, can evoke such fear in two powerful, intelligent alpha males, such as ourselves."
"Well, Ricco, number one, there is nothing petite about her temper, and number 2, I'm fairly certain that it's not just the two of us that it has that effect on." He points out, not being able to contain
his own laughter. "She's an amazing woman, but let's try to stay on her good side, shall we?"
"Don't worry, Anthony. She's coming over to dinner tonight to catch up. I'll talk to her then."
"Well, good. If she bites your head off, I'll be sure to bring whiskey to my next visit. It helps to soothe the ego."
"Ha. Ha. Very funny."
"Hahah. I've told Ajax. He's not happy about it, but he'll be there."
"How is Ajax? I haven't seen him since Celeste's eighteenth birthday party."
"Oh, you know. As cranky as ever."
"I wonder where he gets that from."
"Watch it, old man."
We laugh and catch up for a while, until Anthony has to get back to the office. He is one of my oldest and closest friends. I don't think I would have gotten through that first year after Arianna passed if it weren't for him. I owe him a lot. Not that he would ever let me repay his kindness. Anthony Barton had been my guardian angel in a way. A true friend.
I manage to finish up my work by the end of the day, but then dread sets in. I have to tell Celeste about our retreat. Ugh. This shouldn't be a big deal, but Celeste hates taking time off work. I have to ask her to take two weeks off. She will not be happy about this. Oh well, here goes nothing.
Celeste
That night I head to my childhood home. Dinner with Daddy used to be a more regular thing. He and I have had very different schedules for a while now, so it has become less frequent. I truly do miss it, though. My daddy has always been kind, caring, strong, and supportive. I wouldn't have been able to pick up the pieces after Mom passed if it hadn't been for him. He has always been my rock. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I don't date much. I have never met a man who has ever come close to being as good a person as my father. If I'm going to get married and have kids someday, I want my kids to have just as good a dad as I have. I'm pulled from my thoughts as the driveway comes into view.
As I pull up in front of the house, Daddy comes out on the porch and beams a smile at me. I can't help but return it. It's been too long. Just being here fills my chest with warmth.
"Daddy!"
"Celeste! Oh, baby girl. It feels like forever since we've done this."
I chuckle despite myself. "Daddy, I'm almost thirty. Not exactly toddler age, ya know."
He wraps me in a hug, and says in mock annoyance, "We've been through this, Celeste. Even if you're two hundred, you're still my baby girl."
"All right, Daddy. You win. Now what's for dinner? I'm starving!"
An all - knowing smirk plays on his face as he says, "When are you not hungry?"
"All right! That's enough out of you. Just feed me already."
We finally head inside and start in on dinner. Daddy really got good at cooking after Mom passed. I guess he wanted to try to make everything easier on me. This meal was no exception. It was delicious. We sat at the table eating and drinking wine. We caught up on each other's lives and laughed. It felt like home. Hours had passed, and then it happened. The words I always hate to hear from my father. Mostly, because whatever comes after those words is a huge pain in my ass. Or it's incredibly sad. Crap! What now?
"Baby girl, I need to talk to you about something important."
"Oh god, Daddy. What is it?"
I am already irritated, and he can tell. He smiles slightly and continues.
"I need you to take two weeks off work."
My eyes widen so far, they could have easily fallen out. I unintentionally bellow my response, "What?"
Ricco
Oh hell! And so it begins.
"Calm down, Celeste."
"What do you mean calm down, Daddy? Two weeks? Two weeks! Do you know how many patients I see in a two - week period? I could save fifty people in a two - week time frame!"
I look across the table at my now irate daughter. If she were to turn one shade of red darker, she would match the brick on the outside of the house. Oh god, she has her mother's stare. Yikes. There's that temper that rivals even the biggest alpha male. Gotta defuse!
"Celeste, at least let me explain myself before you tear my head off."
"Don't worry, Daddy. I can reattach it for you during the two weeks I won't be taking off." The sarcasm in her voice is so thick, it's almost physically visible.
"Honey, please, listen. I need you to go with me to a retreat. It lasts twelve days. That's why I need you to take two weeks off."
I can see the confusion mixing with the anger on her face. She looks to be calming down, but only the tiniest bit.
"Why do you need me to go, Daddy? What kind of retreat is this anyway?"
Well, she isn't shouting anymore. That's a start, I guess.
"It's the Paranormal Council's retreat, and I need you there as my heir."
I watch her face for insight to her feelings, but as I suspected. No clues to be found. She is silent for a minute then finally speaks up.
"Daddy, I know how important this is for you, so I am going to try to stay calm."
Oh shit.
"Daddy, you know I love my job. Mom is part of the reason that I chose this profession. You were a part of that choice too."
"Me?" I say, clearly surprised, having never heard this before.
She chuckles a little at my reaction. "Of course. I decided that day at the hospital when I was just fifteen years old, that I would do
any and everything I could to keep the look that you had on your face in that waiting room, off anyone else's. I can't save the world, but I know I can make a difference. That's why I do what I do."
There is absolutely no way to look manly when you are holding back tears in front of your daughter. The pride I felt welling up in my chest at that moment is indescribable. I want to say something or to
hug her or anything, but I resist. I let her finish.
"That's why I hate missing work. What if I'm not there and someone dies as a result? I know there are other surgeons, but that doesn't help the guilt." She turns her eyes down clearly in pain.
"I'm sorry, honey. I would never ask if it wasn't important."
"I know, Daddy, but you can't expect me to give up my career just to take over your seat on the council. This is important too."
"I would never ask something like that of you. Why would you think that? Look at me, I sit on the council and have a thriving company and plenty of time to spend with my favorite daughter too."
"Daddy, I'm your only daughter."
Yes! Finally, she smiles. Maybe she won't rip my head off just yet.
Sigh. "All right, Daddy. Text me the dates. I'm not promising anything, but I will see if it's a possibility for someone to cover it for me," she says lightheartedly.
"Thank you, sweetheart. That's all I ask. By the way, I am very proud to know that I had even the smallest part in the fantastic woman you've become."
After that, she hugs me so tight, I thought I cracked a rib. I didn't mind, though. I would gladly endure one hundred broken bones to see her smile.
A short while later, we say our goodbyes and I send her on her way. As soon as she is gone, I pick up my phone and send the dates of the retreat to her. I decide I might as well call Anthony to recap the evening for him. As expected, I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance for him because he was laughing so hard. Thus is the life of a father with a strong - willed daughter.