Huntsville, Alabama

"Sera, I’m sorry. I had hoped I was wrong; however, the biopsy of the tumor has been examined twice by two different specialists and the results are the same."

She sat there, blank, amazed, and very shaken. She couldn’t believe the doctor could remain so reserved, as if he were telling her what he ate for breakfast.

For the third time in fifteen minutes, Sera reached up and touched the scarf covering her buzz-cut head. Her scarves matched every outfit perfectly. She had even purchased a book on how to make fashionable ethnic designs. Today it was the twist and knot on the nape of her neck.

It was strange to think about such things after receiving a death sentence.

" I will soon find out. God, I think I am going to be sick. Please help me get through this with some dignity."

She took a quick breath of utter astonishment as Doctor Ryan glanced at his watch, as if she was taking up too much of his time. "Hell, at least you got time, you unconcerned bastard."

Her lips thinned with irritation. Her dark eyes showed the tortured dullness of disbelief.

"Sera? Dear, I would think you would have some questions. I am here to help you and make sure you understand-"

Startled, her eyes glazed with tears that wouldn’t fall. "I have more than questions. You know I …I have money…and …I have excellent benefits. Surely you can refer me to a research center experimenting with special cases. I’m willing to go abroad. Anything." She couldn’t stop the shrill in her voice.

"No, Sera, there is nothing. You better than anyone know traveling can cause an entire new set of complications. The increased pressure of a flight could cause hemorrhaging, an embolism causing a stroke, memory loss, or worse, instant death. Driving, while taking morphine can-"

"Oh, hell. We wouldn’t want that, would we?" Sera released a sob, her voice filled with sarcasm as she continued, and "What are we talking about, Dr. Ryan, instant death? It would be a blessing, don’t you think? I’m a doctor for chrissake, one of the best in my field. You know this."

The silence grew thick between them and Sera’s breath escaped in a long, low hiss of annoyance. "Okay, so my current specialty is wildlife, wolves in particular, but I was in the same profession as you are before changing my field of expertise; so give me the respect I deserve, if not as a medical doctor, then as a family friend."

"Sera, it’s not my intention-."

"Sure it was. Because it’s easier to shut down your feelings than to deal with the human emotions of diagnosing or giving a death sentence to with someone you know!"

"Calm down, Sera, it won’t do for you to get upset."

"Come on, did you say ‘get upset’? Hell, I’m pissed." She spread her arms wide and leaned against the large desk. "So why don’t I be the one to get the bad news out on the table! Obviously, you’re not in the mood to do be a friend or a doctor today."

"Sera, I know you are, as you said, ‘pissed’ but you are out of line." Dr. James Ryan’s eyes briefly locked on hers before resting on his folded hands.

She refused to back down. Sera remembered the many times she’d had this conversation with other patients and their families. The evening the wife of a deceased patient slapped her and accused her of heartlessness was the day she decided to change her field.

From the way this doctor was looking at her right now, she realized for the first time what her patients must have felt like and what made the woman angry enough to hit her.

"James, it’s time for you to look me in the eye and tell me…if I’m lucky I will die in my sleep from hemorrhaging or clotting. If I’m unlucky, I’ll lose my mental faculties and control of my bodily functions. See, was that so hard to say?" She said sarcastically. "I know you’ll make sure I’m somewhere where someone can change my diapers and tend to those pesky bedsores that never heal."

Pace. Pace.

"I can also depend on you to do what you think is best for me out of respect to my dead parents. You will hook me up to tubes, keep me well-hydrated, and as comfortable as possible. That is, until it no longer works, and wow, after all that suffering, I just might get lucky enough to have a stroke or organ failure, so I can die before fucking starving to death!"

"Sera, stop it right now!"

"What?" She walked back to the chair and dropped. "Am I not acting the way your other patients act when you’ve given them no hope?"

Her accusing gaze was riveted on him, her hands gripping the arms of the chair as she leaned forward.

"James, I’m not just a patient, I’m your god-daughter. You were at the party the day my adoption became final." She spoke in an odd yet gentle tone. Folding her hands in a pose of tranquility, she managed a sad smile. "And, except for calling me Sera, I could be just another stranger who was referred to you by another doctor. When I lost Mom and Dad in the accident, I turned to you and your family. Now, I feel as if you are just giving up on me."

"Sera, you won’t have to go through this alone. You still have the family and me. There are also staff professionals standing by to assist you-"

"I’m only twenty-nine." Her head bowed. "I’ve worked so hard to get to this point in my life, where I can finally devote some time to more than working. You know what? I hadn’t realized how desperately I wanted children until this moment."

"Don’t do this to yourself Sera."

She twisted her hands together in her lap. "Two, I think; a boy first, so when I have a second child, he or she would have an older brother to look after them. I always hoped Mommy and Daddy would adopt me an older brother." Her voice cracked and tears fell over the hills of her cheeks. "But with their wildlife research they barely had time to visit me while I was away in college."

Clearing his throat while bracing his elbows on his desk, he linked his hands together in front of him and he leaned towards her.

She stared at him. He smiled with kind understanding. For the first time since she entered Doctor James Ryan’s office, she felt she was seeing her "Uncle Jimmy," the name she called him in less formal surroundings.

"By your opinion, if there are no other problems, how long do I have?"

"You know it is difficult to predict such things."

"Best-case scenario."

"Two years."

"Worse?"

"Six months, if you don’t have a stroke first."

Sera shook her head. "Then you know what I‘m going to do and the less you know the better. I’ll get my affairs in order and I’ll choose when and where I wish to die."

"Please don’t, Sera." His voice cracked with emotions.

"I need you to do me one last favor-."

"I will not help you get more morphine than I am allowed to prescribe, Sera."

"I would not ask such a thing of you. Besides, I have means to get what I need from the animal research clinic." She saw the aging lines on his face deepen and felt saddened to have taken her frustrations out on him. He truly was someone who cared for her. The only thing she had left close to a family.

"I want you to know that you, Martha, and the kids have been great friends to me. Thank you." She cleared the lump tightening in her throat and continued. "This will be our goodbye and I would appreciate you breaking the news to your family, just tell them I’m leaving to spend the time I have left in seclusion…don’t tell-"

"No…no, of course not," he bobbed his head, rubbing his temples with his hands.

"However, the favor is I need is for you to give me a letter of my diagnoses and copies of my files and such. I will be sending it to the appropriate places along with my final notes on wolves and the environmental injustice against them. It is important to get this information to my lawyer to delegate my final wishes."

He leaned back in his chair folding his arms across his belly. "Sera, in all good conscience, I can't allow you to do this-."

"Even if it means it’s the last thing you’ll get to do for me?"

"That’s not rational." His lips compressed in a thin line. A mottled flush came across his face as he tried to keep back the emotions.

"Neither is dying when you have yet to live."

With a resigned sigh, he removed a pen and prescription pad from his breast pocket and began to scribble a note for his assistant. "Give this to Meg on your way out; she will get what you need. We can messenger anything else you might need once you settle in if the need arises."

"Thank you so much…for everything." She took the paper from his hand.

"Sera, it was a pleasure to watch you take your parents’ research to another level, not to mention the memorial wildlife research and development park you opened in their names. They would have been so proud to see all you’ve accomplished."

"I would like to think they’ve been watching. As far as being proud, I’m sure they’ll let me know soon enough." She smiled; he didn’t.

"Sera, will you be coming back here…your remains, I mean?"

"No, I’m going to arrange for a cremation. I would like to have my ashes scattered in Lake Tahoe. If it was good enough for Mom and Dad, it’s good enough for me." She shrugged her shoulders in mock resignation.

He grunted. Sera saw it was time for her to go; he would try to be strong for her sake and as long as she lingered it would become more awkward for the both of them.

"Till we meet again…in the afterlife, Uncle Jim. That is if you believe in such a thing." Putting her hand in his, she squeezed his hand affectionately. "I don’t."***

Within two weeks after Sera’s visit to the doctor’s office, she took one last look at her empty townhouse. She didn’t feel any sadness about leaving the life she had known. Why should she? She spent most of her life traveling for the sake of her work and research and hadn’t had the opportunity to turn her place into a real home.

However, Sera would miss her research students. They had the same drive and dedication to the health and preservation of forestry wildlife that she had.

With their help, Sera had won awards for her hypotheses, filmed a few wildlife documentaries, and written several books on the subject of the environmental science of wolves. Long after she was gone, her work would be here for others to take up where she had left off.

After arranging for her lawyer to disburse her monies between several wildlife preserves for continued research, there was nothing left to do but leave the keys for her townhouse to the new owner; Uncle Jim’s eldest son, as a graduation gift.

She was fifteen before she had known what it felt like to be part of a real family. The foster care she received from her high school biology teacher and her wildlife reservist husband changed her life. When they adopted her, it was the happiest day of her existence. Unfortunately for her, the time she had with her parent was to be short-lived.

When they died in an automobile accident during her junior year of college, she gave up dating and partying altogether. She changed her electives and, instead of becoming a medical doctor, she focused on wildlife species-wolves in particular-and botany.

Sera would take her memories of the life she shared with the Tibbs family and their friends to her grave. At least for a moment life had been everything she dreamed it could be.

With one large suitcase filled with necessities, a purse heavy with morphine, an envelope containing the doctor’s diagnoses in case there was a problem, traveler’s checks, and a one-way ticket to Lake Tahoe, Sera Tibbs closed the door on what had been her life. ***

Sera’s plane arrived late in Tahoe and fatigue settled in pockets around her eyes. The rapid pounding of her heartbeat set the pace of the thumping in her head. The first thing she needed to do was find a ladies’ room so she could splash some cold water on her face. Next, she would call Tahoe Management Group to make sure they opened and aired out the lakeside rental cabin.

Sera felt frazzled and her entire body seemed to be fighting her every movement. If one more person brushed against her, or bumped into her, she was going to share the contents of her stomach with them. A few times, she had to stand still and think before she took her next step. Something was terribly wrong. Was this one of the symptoms of her illness?

Sera felt fear rioting from within. She applied pressure to her temples with the palms of both hands, praying the pain would subside. She whimpered as voices, footsteps, and a baby’s wailing became one big, muffled roar. It seem to go on and on without any relief in sight.

She cradled her head with trembling hands, her purse swinging on the bend of her arm; her eyes felt like they were on fire as she squinted against the vivid lights of the airport lobby.

"Please…not now…not now…" she chanted in a broken whisper.