Author: mariacatalinaegan

Mitch Taylor and Rebecca Sorenson share a secret.

Rebecca’s job as secretary of Cascade Elementary, the same school she attended as a child, is rewarding. She has a great group of friends, many of whom are married now. And if sometimes she wished it were her up there in that sparkling white dress…

Except, wait—she did get to wear bridal white. Granted, it was a slinky party dress and the justice of the peace was Elvis in a gold lame jacket, but still, the deed was done.

She’d tied the knot.

Mitch Taylor doesn’t do regrets. It would be a waste of energy bemoaning the mistakes he’d made in his life. The end of his promising football career taught him nothing in life was a guarantee.

Like love.

What were the chances two people from the same po-dunk town in Washington would end up together in a nightclub in Las Vegas? A few too many drinks later, a hasty ceremony performed by the king of rock ‘n’ roll, and they’d been hitched. The night that followed lived on in his dreams, but when he’d woken the next morning she was gone.

Can these two mismatched lovers find a way past their mistakes, or will they keep their lonely hearts forever guarded?

We entered an uncarpeted, vacant hallway that branched out on both ends. Several metal doors with bolts lined the walls. The blue paper booties I wore crinkled against the bottoms of my feet sliding across the shiny white floor.

“What did they give me?” I asked when we stepped into the restroom straight across from the room I was in.

Ann led me to a stall with no door, only an off-white partition that separated it from the other johns. “It was a barbiturate used to sedate patients. Sleep therapy is what some doctors dubbed it.” She continued to talk while I emptied my bladder, keeping her word to give me as much privacy as she could.

Once I finished, I went to the sink and cringed at my reflection in the mirror. The right side of my face had a purple, yellowish bruise across my cheek, and the luster in my hazel eyes was gone. My complexion had a grayish cast. Whatever was injected into my body created a carbon copy of myself.

Ann handed me a washrag, and I realized there was no hot water when I went to dampened it. After I cleaned off my eyes and face, we headed down the north side of the hall. I listened to Ann tell me that most of the residents were in the common room, which explained the eerie silence.

“There you are,” a manly nurse with thick forearms and a broad forehead said when we rounded the corner from another corridor. She was heading our way and seemed quite annoyed.

Ann stiffened but held her head high. “Ameerah caught my attention. She needed to use the lavatory, and now I’m taking her to the dining room for lunch.”

“I realize you’re new here, Ann,” the other nurse said, “but we do not call patients by their first name in their presence. Each one has a number.” She pointed at me. “This one is number sixty-four.”

A laugh of disbelief escaped my lips. I couldn’t help it. What type of place was this, sedating people, tying them to a bed, and calling them by numbers instead of their names? I found being called Sixty-four another check in the box under the dehumanization category. “Excuse me,” I said when they looked at me, “I don’t know what type of facility I’m in, but regardless, I have a name. It’s Ameerah. To refer to me by a number is demonizing my identity, so I’d appreciate it if you would stick with my name instead.”

The coarse nurse scowled. “We will do no such thing.”

I made a face. “Why? What’s the purpose in such a demoralizing act? And what the hell is this place?”

Still scowling the nurse snapped, “Watch your mouth.”

“You’re in an insane asylum,” Ann said.

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Down the hallway, James heard voices and the ping of an elevator. The soft hush of rain enveloped the early evening when he glanced outside through the blinds. He saw the limo that waited for him and he couldn’t wait to escape the clutches of his tormentor for the final time.

“I am a wealthy man, and I am Russian, so I know everything. I know about your men. That too is my fault. I should’ve loved you more and you wouldn’t look for tokens from others.”

James took his left hand and closed the blinds, leaving the room in virtual darkness except for the glow of the machines that kept his father alive. He noticed the shallow breaths from across the room.

“But you are my son, and I promise you that one day you will meet a girl and she will make you believe in magic.” His wizened eyes peered at James in the darkness, and he said, “I want you to be very careful.” He paused before continuing, “The thing you desire and love most is what will kill you.” He took four deep gulps of air, holding the oxygen tube to his nostrils. “I believe I have taught you that lesson. You have watched me chase money. Now I die alone. Hated by my own blood.”

How long is he going to go on like this? “Is this all you need to say? I must go.” James’s voice shook as he said this and his rage surprised him. He kept his hands in his jeans in order to stop himself from hurting the old man.

A frail hand reached for him in the darkness. “Please forgive me. I was never taught to love. I love you.” He wheezed the rattle of death and said, “You are a rich man at a young age. You have made me proud.” With that, his hand dropped to the bed and one of the machines began to flash rapidly. Zoe and another nurse bolted into the room.

“He’s coded,” Zoe said, looking up at James.

He looked at the ceiling as if searching for a clue, ran his hand through his hair, and said, “Do what you have to do.” With that, he walked away without looking back.

On the way down the corridor and into the elevator, his brain raced as quickly as the monitor had a few moments ago. Why did he wait until now to tell me these secrets?

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