Winning the Lottery - 16. Chapter 16 Midlife Crisis

Derrick and I never worked up the enthusiasm for taking a year away from Hawaii. Instead, we slipped into a prolonged period of listlessness. First, we waited for Christmas, and when that was past we had the excuse of Cass and Khala’s graduation in April. Truth was, we were both mildly depressed, feeling indifferent about anything other than sitting around the pool all day. We became very attached to one another, almost clingy, causing a kind of co-dependent situation where we supported each other’s laziness. And we weren’t exercising enough which was beginning to tell on our respective waistlines.

Physically, I was recovering well. Mentally, not so much. I hated my scars and had arranged to have one of the best plastic surgeons in the US fly over to Hawaii to try and reduce their visibility. I was waiting on that too.

Looming also was Cass and Khala’s departure for the mainland. They’d both been accepted into UC Davis, Cass in Veterinary Medicine and Khala in a masters program in Psychology. We were going to miss Cass something awful, and we’d grown to very much enjoy Khala’s frequent visits to the house.

The clinic was running well. I’d only drummed up enough courage to visit it once since getting shot. It was all I could do not to have a full-blown panic attack when I was there. As Don had said, however, my presence there wasn’t required. The foundation had it set up and running like a well oiled machine with locum doctors from the mainland rotating through on a two and three month cycle. Our ‘target’ population was being well served, and the lab/diagnostic centre was running beautifully. Our statistics in preventative treatment were outstanding.

One evening we’d just finished our warmed up pizza dinner (we really hadn’t felt like cooking much in that period) and I cast my eyes around critically our downstairs living space. “This place looks like crap,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Look at it,” I said, sweeping my hand around. “Everything looks old and tired. We haven’t updated anything since the place was built nearly eight years ago.”

“So you want to redecorate?”

“Definitely.”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“How about a country theme? Maple and chintz?”

I wish you could have seen the look on Derrick’s face. “Oh....kay....”

“Ha! Got you. I’m actually thinking Hawaiian. Similar to what we’ve got now but updated and with better quality stuff. There are some excellent furniture designers on the island. What do you think?”

“I like. Come, let’s sit on the couch and we can talk. I’ve been thinking about a couple of things too.”

We got into our favorite position. I noticed that Derrick had brought his phone over with him.

He started kissing my neck again, and of course his hand began to drift south. “Derrick, that’s not fair. You know I’ll agree to anything once your hand reaches its destination.”

“Okay, first off, why don’t you call a decorator tomorrow and have him come out to the house? I think the guy that helped us put this place together originally is still in business.”

“Mmmmm.”

“Gabriel, my love,” said Derrick in his ‘I’m going to ask for something now’ tone that I knew so well.

“Yes, my sweetest?”

“I’d like to buy a new car.”

“Sounds good, what did you have in mind?”

“A...benny.”

“A benny? What kind of car is that?”

“No. A Bentley....”

“What! Let me get this straight. Derrick, ‘Mr. not extravagant Deacon,’ just said he wants to buy a Bentley? Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”

“Very funny, but I’m serious.”

“I’m not sure I even know anything about Bentleys. Aren’t they big and luxurious? Like what the Queen of England rides in?”

“Some are, yes, but I’m looking at their SUV. It’s called a ‘Bentayga.’ It’s really beautiful. Here let me bring up the Bentley website and I’ll show you.” With that he ceased rubbing my belly and grabbed his phone. See, there it is. What do you think?”

“It looks gorgeous. But wait a minute. What’s that one? The convertible?”

He clicked on the picture. “Oh, it says it’s a Continental .... Do you like it?”

“Well, I mean, if we’re being extravagant, maybe you could get the SUV, and I could get the convertible.”

“Does this mean ‘Mr. independent Gabriel Nichol,’ is willing to let his Solara go?”

I snuggled in closer to Derrick. “I think it’s time....”

We spent the next half hour looking at photos and specs of the cars we liked. We decided to check out the Bentley dealer over on Kapiolani Boulevard the next morning. It was the first time in ages that we’d become ‘enthused’ about anything. We discussed the merits of Bentleys versus other luxury cars such as the Rolls Royce, the Lamborghini and the Ferrari, but we kept coming back to the Bentleys. Derrick was right, the Bentleys just seemed to suit us. They seemed to have just the right blend of luxury and conservatism. They’d be noticeable, yes, but they didn’t scream ‘Look at me!’ the way the others did.

After we’d looked at car pictures to our satisfaction, I snuggled back against Derrick and he started kissing my neck and rubbing my belly again.

“Gabriel, my darling?” he said in his ‘ask’ tone again.

“Yes, my sweetest?” (I really thought I had perfected that sweet as sugar response with just the right touch of sarcasm.)

“I got a call earlier today from a guy who told me about a plane that’s for sale. I’m thinking of upgrading from the Cessna 206.”

“Sounds good. With Gramps and Grams spending more time on Maui it might be nice to have something a bit bigger to run over there and back.”

“Yes, and Cass and Khala will be in Davis, and it would be nice to run over to the mainland occasionally too.”

I was about to agree, when realization struck. “You’re not talking about a propeller plane, you’re talking about a jet. Am I right?”

“Yes. See, here’s the thing. The Gulfstream G650 was introduced at the Paris Air Show back in 2013 and they’ve started delivering them to customers this year. Well, one was ordered by some technology guy, but his company has tanked, and he can’t take delivery of it now. So that plane, which has just rolled out of the factory, has become available. The marketing guy from Gulfstream said he’d give me first dibs if I want it.”

I turned and took a serious look at him. “Derrick, what’s up? First a Bentley and now a zillion dollar plane? Oh my God! You’re having a midlife crisis! My husband is having a midlife crisis! Oh my God!”

“Very funny, Dr. Nichol. Maybe I am having a midlife crisis. So what? I can afford to have the mother of all midlife crises if I want. And the plane is not a zillion dollars, it’s only 65 million.”

“Oh, well then.... And, yes, Mr. Deacon, you can have a midlife crisis if you want. I’m sorry for teasing you. Go ahead. Tell me about this plane.”

“Well, I just happen to have a few photos of that too.” He reached for his phone again.

Derrick explained that the G650 was larger than the G550 that I was used to. It also had a longer range. And larger windows. This particular plane was done in cream leather with subtle wood trim. There was a gorgeously appointed bathroom in the back, then a private sleeping area. Mid-plane it was configured like the G550 with seats and tables. At the front it had a well appointed galley, another lavatory and a crew rest area. It certainly had the WOW! factor going for it.

Derrick explained that he’d be the principal pilot but that he’d hire two other pilots. Plus he’d hire two cabin attendants so there’d always be one on board. He was planning on setting up a limited liability company so we could charter it out when we weren’t using it for ourselves.

“Holy shit, Derrick, that would be amazing. Between the Bentleys and the plane we’d really be making some serious changes to our lifestyle. Talk about being spoiled!”

“Yeah, but all my life it’s been ‘don’t be extravagant!’ I think it’s time I let loose a little, don’t you? When I was frightened about losing you, I thought that life is too short to always be reining ourselves in. Maybe now is a good time to kick up our heels a bit. We had a taste of that lifestyle on our cruise last summer, and I must say I did enjoy that. Whadda ya say?”

“I say we’re going from depressed to manic. That’s what I say. But that’s not so bad. Unless, of course, you want to take the plane to Vegas and gamble away millions. Now that would not be good.”

“Nothing extreme like that.”

“Well, okay, then. Let’s have a little fun!”

Derrick’s hand reached its final destination and that put an end to any serious discussion for that evening. We had a ton of fun with our lovemaking that night alternately moaning and laughing and crying out in pleasure.

The next morning at breakfast Cass said dryly, “We heard you guys last night.” Khala blushed and looked everywhere but directly at us. Derrick and giggled like schoolgirls.

“What has gotten into you two?” demanded Cass.

“Your dad’s having a midlife crisis,” I said.

“Khala, I come from a certified crazy family. The sooner you get your PhD, the sooner you can help these lunatics. At least they shaved this morning, so things are looking up.”

With a new spring in our steps we jumped in Derrick’s seven year old Lexus SUV and headed into town to check out Bentleys.

On the way into town I phoned our design consultant, and he said he’d come out to the house later that afternoon to talk about what we’d like.

It’s Hawaii, so we were dressed pretty casually. Derrick parked his car in front of the showroom and we entered into The World of Bentleys. We headed toward a burnished gold SUV and started looking at it. I opened the driver’s door and looked at the interior. It was pretty luxurious. The salesman rushed over looking perturbed. “May I help you gentlemen?” he said in a rather condescending tone. (I guess the seven year old Lexus and our casual dress didn’t scream ‘Money!’)

“Is this model for sale? I mean right now...to buy right away?” asked Derrick.

“Yes...um...certainly,” the salesman replied with a forced smile.

“That white convertible over there,” said Derrick pointing to the Continental GT model, “Is that available too? Gabe, shall we look at the convertible? I’m Derrick, this is Gabe,” he added.

“Um...I’m Clarence Drinkwater,” replied the salesman, introducing himself and handing us his card. He looked confused, but he was polite. “Any of the cars in our showroom are currently available.”

We’d reached the convertible and I began drooling. It was beyond beautiful. It was truly a breathtaking car. “Oh, I want this,” I said

“Clarence,” said Derrick, “We’ll take that SUV and this convertible. How soon can we have them?”

“Um...” was all Clarence seemed capable of saying.

“According to my research,” said Derrick, “These cars retail for about a quarter of a million each. Am I right, Clarence?”

“Um....yes...that’s fairly close. They’re just a little over that, nearer to 270.... With tax and prep you’re looking at just over 300.

“How about this then, Clarence,” said Derrick. “We’ll wire six hundred grand to the dealership’s bank, then we can pay the balance with our Amex card. How does that sound?”

“Um....” Clarence looked a little pale.

“Clarence, maybe you should get your business manager so we can get that money wired. Oh, and will you take my Lexus in trade?”

“Um...of course, sir. Why don’t you gentlemen follow me to the manager’s office and you can sort out the banking details with him. Meanwhile, I’ll get started on the paperwork. Do you gentlemen have your drivers’ licences with you?”

Using the manager’s speaker phone Derrick had the banking details quickly sorted out with his account manager. It was an internal USA money transfer and the dealership’s bank was credited almost instantly.

While we waited for the cars to be registered in our names, and for them to be ready to drive away, Derrick and I walked to the Ala Moana Center for lunch. Our security guys, following at a discrete distance, were shaking their heads at our impulsiveness—something they definitely weren’t used to seeing.

Once we were seated in a restaurant, I said to Derrick, “Did we just fucking do that?” Then we did the schoolgirl giggle thing again.

After lunch, we strolled through the shopping center and impulsively bought ourselves decent watches. Philippe Patek. I mean, why the hell not? Since we were on a roll....

Once we got home with our new cars we had to come clean to Mom and Dad who, in their Buddhist beliefs, believed that material goods did not buy happiness. In fact, quite the opposite. So we were surprised when they admired our cars and told us we’d done the right thing by splurging on something special for ourselves. Huh?

We were a little later than expected getting home, so the designer was there waiting for us. I’d outlined what I wanted when I’d talked to him on the phone, and he’d taken the extra time he had to sketch out an idea for us. He’s quite a good artist and had even used colored pencils, so what he showed us seemed almost real. “Yes!” I exclaimed when I saw his drawing. “Derrick, look. This is exactly what I was talking about!”

“Yeah, I really like it. It’s got lots of color but it looks comfortable too. I say we go for it.”

The decorator explained that he’d be buying all the wood pieces from a local artisan so we’d be supporting the local economy. Can’t ask for more than that.

Later, when we made love there was something new and fresh and exciting in it. We didn’t hold back, so chances are Cass and Khala got a good earful that night too.

As we were ‘recovering’ and cuddling Derrick said, “Gabe, my darling....”

“Yes, my sweetest?”

“Um... Do you really, really want to get your scars fixed? I think they’re kinda sexy, and you know, you’ve really earned them....”

I thought about that for about a minute and realized that Derrick was right. The scars were part of me now; part of my history. Then I thought about all the patients I’d seen who had terrible, disfiguring, and sometimes disabling, injuries and how graciously many had come to accept their new selves. When I looked at it that way, to hate my scars was really against everything I’d been taught, and believed in.

“Yeah, thanks for bringing that up. I’m going to wear these scars proudly. They’ll fade a lot in a couple of years anyway. But I’m still going to get that plastic surgeon to come to Hawaii and do some work on a couple of patients who need it a lot more than I.”

“Love you, Gabe.”

“Love you, too, D.”

Derrick was up early the next morning talking to the Gulfstream representative; arranging for us to see the new plane. I was still sleeping soundly when he poked his head in the bedroom door and asked if I’d like to fly to Los Angeles tomorrow to view the plane. I mumbled, “Grrrrr,” which Derrick took as a positive response.

That woke me up, so I decided I’d drop by the clinic before they got started, just to say hi; I knew Jordan was working that morning and thought it would be nice to see him, Bernie and the other staff again.

When I arrived in my new Bentley, Bernie gave a low whistle of approval. “Man,” he said, “You wear that thing well!”

Jordan, of course arrived a few minutes late. He burst into the staff room demanding who’s ‘sweet ride’ that was in the parking lot. When he saw me, he exclaimed, “Gabe! No! Really!”

We all chatted pleasantly for a few minutes with me promising to let Bernie and Jordan test drive the car later. Then Jordan asked, “Gabe, I know you didn’t come in to work today, but we could really use your help for a couple of hours this morning. It’s always busy, and the patients will have a long wait. It’s like that every morning....”

“I’ll keep an extra good eye on you,” added Bernie.

I thought, ‘Why the hell not?’ and agreed to work for two hours. I guess because it happened so spontaneously, I didn’t have time to get nervous or upset.

I slipped into ‘doctor’ role as if I hadn’t even been away. There was nothing too exciting that morning. Just the regular aches, pains, earaches, STD’s, probable diabetes, and one pregnancy. I ended up working for three hours and loved every second of it.

I left the clinic with a promise to return soon on a drop in basis. They were glad to have me whenever I could appear. There was always a waiting room full of patients, especially in the morning, so an extra pair of hands was welcome. It would take some pressure off the other doctors too, and it wasn’t like I was cutting into anybody’s revenue because we all worked for a salary (rather than a per-patient billing).

On the way home I swung by the Bentley dealership. Clarence greeted me like an old friend. “What can I do for you today, Dr. Nichol?”

“A friend of mine, Dr. Jordan Applebaum, is going to come by in the next day or two. I want you to give him any car he wants—I’ll pay for it. Anything in the showroom, or anything he’d like to special order. Can you set that up? I’ll leave a deposit, then come by and settle any balance owing. Can you do that for me?”

It took ten minutes for me to have the money transferred. I called Jordan as I drove home using the fancy Bluetooth feature in the car.

“Gabe, that’s too much! You can’t do that.”

“I can, and I did, Jordan. You saved my life. I want to do something...as a thank you gift.”

In the end he agreed to take the car. I’d learned a lot from MacKenzie in convincing people to accept things. He said he’d ask Kelly to meet him at the dealership after work. Later he phoned me and said they’d selected a model similar to mine, the Continental, but not in a convertible because it would be more of a ‘family’ car with Alfy in tow. There was one they liked in the showroom and were able to drive it home that evening. Both he and Kelly thanked me profusely, and I could hear the child-like excitement in their voices. I was only glad that I could give them some small token of my gratitude for Jordan’s expert care. If he hadn’t been there that morning I might not be telling this story right now.

Derrick had been busy most of the day arranging to buy the G650. The Dea-Con leasing guys got involved because there’s quite a lot to do with setting up ‘parking’ and landing rights at various airports. The limited liability company. The insurance. Plus they had access to pilots and flight attendants looking for work. Then, he had to arrange a time to go to Savannah to get certified to fly it. The ‘project’ seemed to energize him the same way that going back to work had done for me.

We took Derrick’s new car out to the airport the next morning and, on the way there, Derrick phoned Don to fill him in on what we were planning. And to tell him the good news about me going back to work. Don had some good news of his own. It wasn’t ‘official’ get, but Marco had been accepted into a post-doc program at Hawaii Observatories. We were ecstatic when we heard that. We liked them both so much and looked forward to having them close by.

The new plane was waiting for us when we arrived at John Wayne International, just south of Los Angeles. It was really something. Just walking in I could tell how much more spacious it was than the G550. Very tastefully finished and I loved the way the rear couch folded down into a queen sized bed in its own private area. After I toured the plane there wasn’t much for me to do, so I retreated back to the G550 to read and relax and let Derrick get on with business.

We ended up spending the night at a nice resort in Newport Beach. Derrick was so excited about the G650 he couldn’t settle down to sleep. He ‘entertained’ me for hours talking about the plane’s features, most of which I didn’t understand. I don’t think he even noticed that I slept through most of his narrative, but I enjoyed being cuddled next to him and hearing the soothing sound of his voice.

Once back at home life settled into a comfortable routine for the next couple of weeks. I worked two or three mornings a week, and Derrick was occupied with the G650 details. We rarely saw Cass and Khala who were occupied fully by their last semester of school. Cass, however, did take a few minutes to pull us aside and tell us he was glad to have his dads back. Apparently, the family had been pretty worried about our ‘depressions’ and would have staged an ‘intervention’ had we not pulled ourselves together.

I gave my Solara to one of Khala’s cousins. I cried when it pulled out of our driveway for the last time.