DECISIONS DETERMINE DESTINY
A story in the works.
The best way to create is to have an open mind.
This is the beginning of my latest story "Decisions Determine Destiny"
Suggestions are always welcome to improve or create a new story.
CHAPTER ONE
The blood the gore the pain.
Anything to keep her sane
They help the hurt the hell.
A game played by those who prey on those who prayed
In this world, you may succeed
But only if you're willing to bleed.
The words were displayed proudly on the little piece of metal. The statue sat in the middle of the room, people gawked and stared. The young girl on her knees, blood pouring into the stream. A cup filling in the heavily jeweled hands of another. It was a twisted subject that caused chaos among the onlookers, Few stopped to stare. The one who did seemed to stand out among the crowd.
Her long brown hair in a messy bun, the simple black dress hugged each curve. The heels slightly lighter than the darken eyeliner smudge upon her soft skin. Like the statue few stopped to notice; and yet she was all he noticed.
“The blood of the poor empowers the hands of the rich.” The husky voice cut into the conversation the young woman clearly needed freeing from the short messy-haired skater who thought that he could get with this beautiful woman.
Glancing over to the man the young boy left as she began reciting,
”I’ll Beg and Bleed
If the world is illusion
And illusion is madness
The fear of heaven and hell
Cast a most ominous spell.”
“Harter Amos,” he replied impressed
“It's an interesting piece, the strength of the young girl breaking and yet she still tries to please those trying to own her.”
Walking forwards, he put his hand out.
“May i get you another drink miss?” he trailed off hoping he would fulfill his curiosity.
Smiling, shaking his hand and returning to the piece, she said nothing.
“What would you say if I told you that most of the people passing this display are more curious about you than the actual work?”
Letting out a soft giggle, “That would be quite the lie, sir.”
“And yet it's not a lie. The women are looking for things to display in their homes. Flowers, beautiful things that make the other women jealous. The men are here either for their women or to find another for the night.”
Turning back to the man she tilted her head freeing several strands.
“And which of those do you fall under?”
Keeping a straight face he replied with the most ridiculous answer she had ever heard.
“ Oh me? I'm just here for the free booze and food.” gesturing to the circling champagne and crackers.”
Caught off guard she smiled and laughed.
“And yourself, miss?”
“Another freeloader.”
The small silver watch on her wrist beeped. Midnight.
“As nice as this has been sir I must head home. Early start tomorrow.”
Placing her empty glass on a nearby table, she slid through the crowded room and out the door. It was only moments after the door clinked shut before the tall dark and handsome stranger was swept off his feet by another intoxicated woman
The night ended with questions unanswered.
~*~
Early morning it was. The sun hadn’t risen yet as the young woman did. Her hair a tangled mess on her shoulders. Her bed would be left unmade as she darted around the lightly lit room. The cat on the chair slept soundly, the soft air slipping in and out of the small slender body.
The door clicked shut as she slipped from the room and ran to meet the subway that seemed to never stop. No one ever wanted to be down there alone. It was dark and creepy, rain dripped through the grates making it feel too close to the inside of a sewer pipe. The drips hit the murky grey tiles, flicking lights hid the creatures that darted in and out of hidey holes that many called home.
A man sat alone on the ground, a jacket covering everything but his bare toes. His soft breaths confirmed his life but inside it was clear he would rather have died. The cup laid beside him on the edge of a ripped piece of cardboard. The scribbles seemed to say “ anything helps” but with the constant dripping from the downpour on the surface mere feet above caused the black ink to run blue down the board.
As the doors crack open people jumped up quickly nearly running over the person in front of them to escape the sour scent. The corners were avoided, most stood or sat near the middle. Although the trains were cleaned regularly the urine smell seemed to linger.
Her heels clicked softly as she shuffled from one foot to the other. The bar above felt sticky. Who knows how many people have put their fingers along this pipe in hopes to stay standing, or when it last had a thorough cleaning. The flickering lights continued to flash through the small windows as the sun broke across the horizon.
The sky was painted with bright streaks of oranges, yellows and pinks. Birds flew in large “V” formations across the sun. It was peaceful for the few seconds the train was above ground before driving back to what could be the same location she had just left from. The only difference was the guy laying on the ground was thicker, the words on the signs and the location of the flicking light.
The steps had a worn yellow line separating the two sides in hopes to keep traffic flowing more steadily. Did anyone really follow it? Did anyone really know which side was up or down? The taps of her shoes seemed louder as she ascended the stairs, but the noise only fell on empty ears.
Above, the air was crisp. A 20-minute train ride brought her to a new atmosphere. Frost lined leaves, early morning joggers, birds singing a morning song that would fade into an afternoon chatter. Coffee machines would be clicking and filling empty pots with the bitter sludge that seemed to be the go-juice that everyone was begging for each day to get the kids to school or just to kick start the day.
Nods were exchanged as she entered the automatic sliding doors. Quiet mornings were numbly said to passing coworkers and clients. Several individuals sat in chairs impatiently waiting with the mask of patience placed upon a tired expression.
Hospitals and clinics were two very different worlds. A person would never run into a clinic with their pants down, screaming about the hundreds of deep gashes and missing parts that his wife had just cut off after learning of his infidelity.
Not that she had ever had to deal with that up in the psych ward. Just suicidal and mentally unstable. Get them on their meds and move them along. Friendships were discouraged. Relationships with patients were closely monitored.
Work; a legal way to torture people while rewarding them with money. The white walls reflecting fluorescent lights into eyes, causing headaches. A simple switch to darken the brightly lit rooms; demanding maintenance and the attention of each visitor. A thermostat that had no effect. All contained around a desk covered in two-dimensional versions of people's three-dimensional problems.
A stiff chair on either side of the desk. Locks on each drawer. A green filing cabinet that required a stern fist wacking the side to open the top drawer. A doctor's office that belonged in a history book of past professors who made their "mark" on the world.
"Why do you want to hurt yourself?" the young woman questioned eyes trained on the patient as he picked away at the peeling paint of the armrest.
"I don't know. It's just an urge." He said not making eye contact with the doctor.
"You've been here for two weeks, Shawn. Have you written in your journal?"
A simple head shake. A pause. Sigh. Then continuation of destruction to the already depressing paint job. Watching the small chunks of defeated paint fall to the ground reminded her of snow.
The heavy snowfalls she would get as a child. how excited every kid on the block was to stay home and play games or sleep in. The sunshine that would come by the end of the day and start melting everything. Reminding the kids that this freedom was only temporary.
"Let's call it a day. " Closing her notebook and standing up. "Tomorrow is a new day, let's talk then ok?"
A nod but no movement. He wanted to speak to tell her he was sad. Debating when his last day would be.
"It's ok if you're not ready. Or if you can't say it. We can communicate however works best for you." She said placing a fresh notebook and pen in front of him.
Every day the process was the same. Wake up, catch a train, work, catch another train, run, catch up paperwork, art gallery, sleep, repeat.
On her days off, she spent time doing mundane things; reading, doing art, taking care of shopping and cleaning. She had order. A bland organized life that helped others survive; their bland unorganized lives.
~*~
Just down the road, he stood on the edge of the roof looking down.
“We are going to be developing this roof into the premier club destination for anyone who’s anyone.” the woman with dark hair and a clipboard said. He couldn't remember her name nor did he care. This location wasn't at all what he had in mind. Mostly because of the long drop. Drunk people are stupid. Mix in the drugs you know are going to come through no matter how hard someone tries to keep them out. It's the perfect recipe for death.
"Building the walls up some more?" He asked, walking to another edge.
"No?" The lady said, confused.
"So let me get this straight you have me up 20-30 stories with these low fences, sober; I'm scared I'm gonna fall off the edge. Drunk you got yourself a lawsuit. Also, it's a small space. Your bar is gonna take up at least half of the space, and if you decide not to have a bar your waitress are going to have a hell of a time running up and downstairs." He said walking up to her. "Trust me. Don't do this location." With that, he turned and walked out the badly located door and down to the elevator.
The sun was hidden behind clouds as he walked out the front door. His slick black car parked in the back where it could remain until after he had some sort of fuel in his stomach.
A ten-minute walk brought him upon a nice family-style restaurant. The light was burnt out on the end but Eddie's was still big and clear. The booths were a faded red with a few cracks and tears.
"Afternoon darling! Here's a menu for ya! Can I get you a drink to start?" She was a larger woman with curly hair. The simple red dress with the little white apron made the place feel old-timey. Especially with the old men sipping coffees at the counter and talking about the good old days.
“A coffee please.” he said with a simple smile. He felt dirty. It felt fake, everything was fake; Every aspect of his life. Staring out the large windows into the murky grey sky, that felt relaxing. The world was as ready as he was to call it a day. The bells on the door rang as more people entered. A couple, a family, a group of teens, a lonely woman with her nose stuck in a book. A wannabe hipster with his beanie on the verge of falling off his head, his macbook in one hand and a phone in the other, Shockingly he wasn't going to the coffee shop just down the road. They all wondered in for a taste of the atmosphere; awhile the restaurant continued to fill and empty, it remained fairly quiet. The children cried when they didn't get ice cream for dinner. Constant noise from the kitchen with clattering pans, the hum of the fan and the soft vocals of whichever singer was on the hit list that week.
As the sun continued its descent through the lake of grey clouds,he rose and made his way through the nearly empty building to the door. The lights of cars blinded him as he walked away from the setting sun towards the small parking lot he had left his car in. The sounds of tires splashing through puddles that filled the worn road kept him away from the edge in hopes to keep his suit dry and clean, but the thick layer of slush and mud had already wreaked havoc on the hem of his pants.
Lowering himself into the seat of the slick black car he felt numb; driving had become such a chore. Seat belt on, It felt lonely. Keys in the ignition. No one to talk to, nothing to distract him from the boring scenery, he had seen a thousand times before. Turn the keys, start the car. The inside of the car had very little life on its own, nothing personal, nothing decorative. Reverse out of the parking spot. It was kept clean; Company had it professionally detailed at least once a month. Pull up to the edge of the sidewalk. The car wasn’t the top of the line brand new car some companies had but it was relatively new. Safely pulling out onto the road, It was quiet. The hum of chatter on the radio made the small space feel twice as empty as he pulled onto the highway. The leather seats soaking up the heat or the cold in a heartbeat, but they were easier to clean, looked better. The simplicity that it caused the company was the most important and favored part.
A song he knew and enjoyed slipped into his mind as it leaked out of the speakers. He reached over and rose the level of the volume; he couldn't help but let the tiniest of smiles escape his lips. Humming along to the words that could mean the world to one person and absolutely nothing to the next, brought a touch of light into his life. A red light appeared in front of him. Nothing uncommon. It was an unnecessary evil that he had to deal with in his life, if he was running late everything would be red or backed up for miles making him twice as late; and if he was just driving home it was every red light in existence. He would always leave an extra hour early to ensure his timely arrival. A soft sigh left his body as his eyes drifted up to the rear view mirror. In time to catch a glimpse at the large truck speeding towards him, waiting for the impact he closed his eyes and took a large breath. The vibrations shook the car, up his body and into his chest. Any second he should be shoved into the busy intersection, Sent spinning into another car, a light post, a concrete divider built to save the cars going the other direction but trapping those who dared to speed up behind any accident that may occur.
As the rumbling past him he sat for a second, disappointed. The honks behind him was the only reason he lifted a heavy foot from the break to the gas. He could slam on the brakes, throw the car in reverse, Crash into everyone behind him; but the chances it would do enough damage to him was unlikely. It would probably kill someone in the following cars. If it didn't take him he would be forced to live with the pain of knowing he took someone else instead of himself. He could drive around bars after closing time. There was always someone out at that time who thought he was god. Thought he could make it home cause he only had a “few beers” but how would he explain the reason he was out so late? Late night cravings? It might cause someone to get sober, or it could ruin them more.
He could swallow some pills. Say he had a headache. Text his mother. Say it was a bad one and take one too many tylenols. But then he'd want to say how much he loves her. How it wasn't any of her fault. It would make the consider suicide. He couldn’t do that to her. He could order something at a restaurant, something he was allergic to, but that would require actually having an allergy. It would have to look like an accident. Something that wouldn’t cause anyone too much pain.
As he pulled into the underground parking of the over priced one bedroom two bath apartment he felt a ping of sadness. Yet another opportunity had expired. At least until he was back on the 21 floor leaning out over the busy city lights. As partiers ran to catch bus rides and the guy in the corner would be begging for money. The odd drunk releasing his bladder upon the innocent brick wall that would later be sprayed down by an angry owner.
CHAPTER TWO
The dark shadows dipped into her room as the slender black cat repositioned himself along the edge of her body. His soft snores, mixed with the occasional purrs of joy, released a calming effect on the young woman as she gently pet the shiny, soft fur. The morning News whispered in the wind as it fell upon the empty ears within the four walls of the shallow living area. Her phone shook with another warning, wake up or be late. It was the third and final warning. The gentle banging upon the wooden side table was enough to stir the cat from his slumber with a grumpy and sleepy mew. As if he had been asking her to remove the subject of disturbance from existence so he may continue to enjoy the warm embrace from his owner.
While last night had been uneventful; If life had a daily schedule it would have been perfectly executed. This morning as well.
The coffee was warm as it slipped past her lips. The caffeine spread through her body as she began to groom herself for yet another day of rushing to meet the train, knowing she would be several minutes early. Every morning she knew she would beat the train's arrival by 5 minutes at least. The sleeping guy would be in his corner inhaling the fumes of the trains as they raced from one end of town to the other before heading back to make the trip again.
And yet her heels clicked as they descended down the stairs onto the subway. Across the platform and into the building, Feeling fake as the soft good mornings, the quick greetings were mumbled. All as monotoned and depressing as the day before; work was irrelevant this morning. The news she had received on the subway had broken her heart.
The morning had come and gone at the same time it always had, but it felt different. Colors were dull, crowded places felt empty. it was a cliche but they became cliche because they worked; They happened so often.
Before long she found herself descending stairs yet again as her feet, for some unexplainable reason carried her across the lobby that afternoon and into the busy sunshine world of people as they raced to beat the midday rush.
One hour.
She had one hour to eat before getting back to talk to more people about their life problems. About why they had landed in her care. She loved it, Helping others. Fixing each person enough until they could spread their wings and fly on their own. If they came crashing down, she would be there ready to pick them up again. Open her arms and begin healing all over again. Most lunch hours were spent responding to emails from former patients. Ones who had though the world was ending, that their life was meaningless, to tell her that they had grown. Several were married. Some had children. Others had a successful job, filled with caring friends and family.
Today was the exception.
No amount of good news could recover the heartbreak she felt when she had learned on the subway that a former patient had taken his own life after losing his daughter in a car crash. His wife had died of cancer a year before. He had a tough time, but instead of reaching out he let himself sink.
Lost in her thoughts, of the kind young man who had made it so far in life to wind up back where he had started, caused her to slip on the black ice under the rough tip of her heels.
Groaning she stood up, rubbing her bottom and muttering about the lazy work some people did. How a layer of salt could have prevented her and several others from falling on their bottoms and embarrassing themselves as she had.
With a large huff she turned to leave. Taking two steps she was quickly turned back around by the sound of crushing plastic of the slick black car as it collided with the rusty brown truck
~*~
Restless. A night of restlessness. Thoughts dove in and out of his head. The fan swooshing above his head made the room feel large, Large and empty. Some people had photos on the walls of family and friends, art, plants. Something that brought the room together, made it feel alive but he had left it as empty as possible. He didn't want to be too much of a burden after he was gone.
Waking up before his alarm was nothing new. Some would roll over and check facebook or some form of social media until their alarms would scream at them to get up. The darkness coaxes them back to sleep; the five more minutes of rest that could make all the difference. If anything he wasn’t one of these people. He would lay in bed and stare at the fan. The slow pace counting each time the blade made a pass. The sun shine would creep in over summer, and hide longer in the winter.
By the time the alarm rang he would be up, phone in hand, headed to the shower. The water would warm as he brushed his teeth. A towel draped over the top of the glass wall warming from the heat trapped in the rather large room.
Slipping into the steaming capsule, he would lazily wash his hair and body; nothing would be rushed. It would be followed by several minutes of standing in the water enjoying the sound of water as it hit the ground beside his feet splashing up and warming the tops of his toes. His perfectly manicured nails enjoying the warm water as it slipped under the curves of his soles.
Suit, tie, coffee, newspaper, shoes, phone, wallet, keys. Lock the door and hit the button for the elevator. Pray that chatty cathy down the hall does hear it and come running. Enter the freezing garage, it was claimed to be heated, but the machine was never working. The salt crunched under his overly expensive shoes as he made his way to the black crv sitting quietly in the corner.
Plastic junk that would crumble under a sneeze.
Clicking on the radio, he drove in silence down the road. He had yet another meeting about the property on the roof. Selling retail was simple compared to boardroom meetings. The ability to stand and move around was something that made it a little more bearable when having to deal with people. Pulling up to the red light, he leaned forwards and changed the radio station. As he leaned forwards the deep red coat caught his eye. He knew that coat. It was a coat he had watched slip out of the art gallery mere nights before. It was a coat he wanted to learn more about.
A honk behind him startled him as he looked up at the now demanding green light. Ignoring his overwhelming want to sit through the green light he raised his foot and gently pushed the gas pedal. The car rolled into the intersection as he began to make a left turn on to the longstreet stretch in front of him.
He heard the horn long before he felt the impact. The bright lights scared his focus with black figures. His hands gripping the steering wheel raced up to protect his head. He wasn't sure why he was protecting his head. He'd be ok with this. This would be a good way to go. Sudden. A true accident, but it ended as quickly as it came. The car stopped smashing into the light post. His forehead stung. His neck stiff as he leaned back. He could vaguely hear the cries of onlookers. Drunk driver? Distracted? Did it matter? No. Was the person still alive? Had they had a medical emergency? Did he finally anger someone to the point they wanted to kill him? That would be an interesting way to go. Maybe he should hire a hitman. A small laugh escaped his lips at the thought.
“Sir! Are you ok?” a beautiful voice, sounded like an angel.
"Mmhmm fine,” He said looking at the worried face.
"You truly are a beautiful angel my dear. I hope heaven is at least half as nice." He muttered rubbing his shoulder
Caught off guard by his words the young woman paused before leaning forwards.
"Do you know what happened?" She asked
He looked at her with a simple smile and said "well my dear I just died down there, did I not? Hit by some buffoon texting I presume?"
Worry flooded the ladies face,
"Sir, you've been in a car accident and you’re not dead; but you've probably hit your head fairly hard."
"Non-sense my dear, I'm in heaven. And you, my sweet, are the angel who has finally answered my prayers to die." He laughed before glancing around. Heaven surely did not look very different from the place he had died mere moments ago. Maybe this was hell?
"Sir I need you to sit still until the paramedics get here ok?"
Ignoring her request he released the seat belt and opened the door. The lady had enough sense in his eyes to move out of the way.
"Sir please stay seated, you could have been badly hurt." She urged.
"Nonsense I tell ya, I'm fine,” He snapped as he stepped out of the car. It wasn't until he had put all his weight on to his left foot that he felt the pain of the sharp plastic that was sticking out of his ankle.
Grasping his ankle on one foot he quickly lost his balance and fell to the ground. With the fall being in such an awkward location and form; It came to no surprise when his head hit the concrete. Knocking him unconscious.
~*~
Smashing through the double doors, she continued to hold pressure on the now bleeding ankle while someone gave cpr to the old man from the truck. Tox screens and blood work would show what drugs he was on. The track marks on his arm were easily seen. She wasn’t an ER doctor but she had enough basic training and smarts to know where to help and where to step back.
The old guy was put into a room, shocked and brought back and lost again and again. It was unlikely he would walk out of the hospital. But this guy, the familiar guy seemed to only need some stitches and monitoring for the conclusion.
Furthermore; he would need to talk to someone after the things he was saying at the accident scene. She had heard strange stories of people in shock. She had hoped it was only the shock but five years of experience told her different things. She had learned to trust her gut when it came to things like this. Her first year had left a permanent reminder of what could happen if you don't trust yourself and the signs.Everybody lies. Everyone says one thing when they mean another, because they only want help to a point. No one she dealt with really wanted to get better until it was clear that she was not going away.
The man beside her began to stir as the medication made its way out of his system.
“Morning Mr. Moore. How are we feeling?” she asked the man, who seemed to be oddly calm for someone who had just woken up in a hospital. It was nice to put a name with the face she had secretly been wondering about since the art gallery, mere nights ago.
“Hi,” he groaned, touching his forehead. Gasping at the pain beneath the skin, his large frame slowly rose to sit level with her. Her legs crossed at the knees, with the clipboard upon her lap. Her hands folded firmly grasping the mall pen she had been using to mark the pages enclosed before her. Her hair pinned back with another pen, her glasses slipping down her narrow nose.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You were in an accident,” she said leaning forwards, she adjusted her grip on the clipboard. “Mr. Moore, may I ask you some questions?”
“Uh, yea I guess,” he mumbled, still not sure of what had happened.
“During the car accident you said some things that had several people concerned. We just want to make sure you are doing ok, before we release you to family”
“Um okay?”
Leaning back in her chair she opened the clipboard and clicked the pen open.
“Ok so lets start simple, just to make sure everything is ok physically before we go anywhere else. Do you remember the date?”
“January 14, 2020.”
“Perfect and can you tell me your name?”
“Moore. Uh Flynn moore.”
“Alright and birthdate?”
“February 2, 91”
“Ok, lovely. Now when approached during the accident you seemed to believe you had died. Do you remember that?”
“Not really. I remember asking someone if I was in heaven.”
“Yes you did. Do you remember why you asked that?”
“I thought I had died.”
“You seemed happy to be dead. Is there a reason behind that?”
A pause.
He looked scared.
Almost like a kid who had just let his best friend's secret slip out.
“No, I’m not sure why I would be happy,” he croaked.
She stared at him for another moment, reading his jagged movements, and the sweat that had formed on his brow.
“Mr. Moore, can I be honest with you?” she said, putting the clip board down. A simple nod was all she needed, and exactly what she received.
“Mr. moore. I don’t like hospitals. I find them creepy. Especially the ER, hallways as well. It's always a little too quiet, smells too strongly of the bleach. Yet, when I get home I find myself missing the quiet hallways and the smell of the freshly bleached floors. I seem to regret not cleaning my house more thoroughly. I regret not listening when my mother told me how to clean the coffee stains out of my mugs,” she paused before standing, and moved closer to the edge of his bed. “Mr. Moore, I believe when you get home tonight you will find yourself regretting the chance to talk. You don’t seem like a man who likes to regret things, and yet I can see you'd rather be anywhere other than sitting in this bed, in this ER, talking to me. So instead of placing you on a 48 hour watch, I'm going to give you two options. One, we continue to sit, and talk. Then I can decide if I think you're worth the risk of leaving with a note recommending that you speak to someone. Or two, I call up the stairs and let them know I'll need a bed prepared.”
The distant sound of the phone ringing down the hall, and footsteps racing across the floors; covered the small ticks of the clock that hung behind her head.
“ I have had suicidal thoughts,” he said looking guilty at his feet.
“For how long?”
“years.”
“Have you ever acted on these thoughts?”
“No.”
“Have you ever wanted to?”
“Yes.”
“What stops you?”
“My mother.”
“Are you close?”
“Yes.”
“If I release you tonight where would you be going?”
“To my mothers”
“Would she be able to supervise you? Do hourly checks to ensure the concussion has not worsened?”
“Yes.”
“Well then Mr. Moore, while I do not see you as a threat to yourself as of right now, I do believe that you need to speak to someone. Be it me or someone you are more comfortable with, such as another gentleman or even a close friend.
I see no reason to hold you here; However I am going to recommend a therapist, who I have worked with in the past. It is clear you need help but I see no immediate cause for concern.”
Normally she would have held someone with these responses, but something was telling her to release him.
A feeling inside; and as she stood to leave he called out.
“Doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Would it be possible to stay under your care?”
“It would.”
“Would we be able to meet tomorrow? Say noon? “
“We would.”
“Um I hate hospitals as well. Would it be possible to meet elsewhere?”
After a brief moment of hesitation she responded with, “Eddie’s. Down the road. 12:30, don’t be late.” With that she turned and walked out of the room.
“Eddie’s.” he whispered after her with a smile.
CHAPTER THREE
It had been the first time in weeks that he had felt excitement, joy, happiness. Something other than the pit of darkness that had seeped in and controlled every movement. It was a parasite, impossible to kill like a cockroach and as irritating as fleas biting every inch of hidden skin. Choking his freedom from his body. It had become a normal feeling. But today the sun felt warmer. The elephant had left his chest.
His morning meetings were filled with lawyers talking at him but never to him. Stating that what was said could not be used for night time talk with loved ones or over coffee with friends. The basic dos and don’ts of any new project just in case it doesn’t pan out.
The Hard wooden chairs covered in fake leather, it stuck to skin and made more noise when you shifted even slightly than someone sneezing right next to you. Secretaries gave everyone the cold shoulder as they typed away on the small keyboard in front of them with their overly long nails making the annoying clacking noise. The lady they were assisting had the same long nails crashing on the worn counters. Impatience buzzed around the office and for once through him.
The air was tight with excitement. Whether it be for the weekend ahead or the thought of summer, a child’s birthday. Maybe even the chance for extra sleep. While the seconds seemed to take minutes to tick by he couldn't help but wonder if this feeling of joy would last.
It wasn’t until 11:30 that he had noticed that he lost all joy of escaping to meet her. The work had dragged his mood through mud and back. Finally, as he was about to leave his office at 12:15 he felt a touch of joy again. The sun dripped through the clouds leaving warm spots throughout the roads. The lights buzzed in the big red sign as they tried to stay alive until it was time to repair.
The bells jingle again as he stepped into the busy yet familiar atmosphere.
"Why hello again dear! Just grab a seat anywhere. Can I get you a coffee?" The plump little lady asked. Her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head with a few strands slipping down her face. The exhaustion and pain slipped in behind a friendly smile that seemed to be wearing thin. Her hands held a tray full of drinks waiting to be delivered to restless dinners.
"Oh um yes please." He said undoing the button on his suit jacket. Looking around for either an empty booth or the doctor he had been excited to meet again. Upon finding only one empty booth near the back and no sign of the doctor he felt his heart sink a bit. It felt wrong to feel so happy and excited. He didn't deserve to feel this way. Especially after what he had done. If she couldn’t feel the joy and happiness of life then why should he?
Each time the bells above the door would ring he would jump. Ready to stand and take her jacket off for her. His mother had ensured he was taught right. A woman should never open a door for herself. A woman should never have to hang her own jacket. It was small things that no one seemed to do anymore.
12:31. No sign of her and here she was giving him hell not to be late.
12:32 would she show?
12:33 should he order food? He did have to eat at some point.
12:34 the bells rang again. Her soft yet dark brown hair swept through the door. The tight high ponytail being pushed over her shoulder as the door clanged shut behind her. Standing he caught her attention. As she strode over he couldn't help but notice the shoes she had been wearing, were the same ones from both the art galla and at their meeting the previous day. Her legs were covered by some black dress pants. Not too baggy but not skin tight yet you could see the muscles in her legs as she took each step. The white shirt hidden under a simple black suit jacket, all covered by a soft brown trench coat. The simplicity was beautiful on her. He had purely agreed to meet her for several reasons. One, he didn’t want to spend more time in the hospital than necessary, too many bad memories. Two curiosity. Her comments at the art gallery had him wondering about her. And finally a slight want to get help.
He could remember a time when he was in school when all he wanted in life was to do good things and help others. When he wanted to change the world. Life wasn’t a question of wanting to be there or not. It was what he could do tomorrow.
“Sorry I’m late. Had a meeting with a patient that ran over.” she said reaching out her hand.
“A woman is never late. Everyone else is just early.” he responded shaking her hand. As he stepped behind her to help with her jacket. “ I trust everything is okay with your patient?”
Freezing for a moment she wanted to dive into a patient confidentiality rant and how no one seems to respect it. But she held her tongue.
“I know you can't get into specifics. Just hope everything is alright.” he said hanging her jacket on the well placed hangers on the side of the booth chair.
“They will be thank you.” she said, taking a seat. After ordering food and coffee it was time for business.
“I normally don’t get to eat when dealing with patients. Strict no sharp objects on the floor rule.” she said with a slight smile.
“I normally don’t get to eat with people.” he joked.
“Busy days?”
“No, I just don’t talk to alot of people,” he said, catching her eye.
“And why is that?” she pushed, resting her chin on her fist as she studied his face.
Putting his silverware down he took a sip of his lukewarm coffee.
“I used to. I used to have a rather large group of friends. Coffee and dinner dates scheduled weeks in advance. Alone time scheduled for the little things in life. Now I just don’t find the joy in life like I used to.”
“What made you stop?” she pushed again.
“Family accident,” he replied shortly shutting down any more questions as he looked out into the snow. The accident wasn't fresh. It had been 7 years. But the blame was fresh each morning and twice as painful at night. Even worse in the winter.
Taking a moment she took a breath and started again.
“Is there anyone you're still close with?”
“I still get the odd email from a couple of friends.”
“Perfect.” she said cutting him off before he could say something about not seeing them often enough or something about meaning to message them back later. He knew he wouldn’t actually make the plans but he’d say he would. “I like to give my patients some kind of homework between sessions. Something to focus on or improve. I have two for you. One. get a hold of any one or two of your friends, go for lunch, drinks, a party, the gym. Just reconnect with one or two. I'd also like to fill out this questionnaire. It's mostly a formality. Just gives me an idea of topics that you would like to bring up later in time and things we can work on now. Short goals, long goals, phone number email. Previous health conditions and such.” she said passing over a folder. “Feel free to email me a scanned copy or just bring that to our next session.”
Taking the folder he took a moment to skim the short page of information. “And when would our next session be?” he asked, placing the folder next to his coffee on the table.
“I usually like to do every two to three days. I like to aim for twice a week.”
Nodding, he looked at her as she checked the time. “ unfortunately lunch is all the time I have today. Feel free to email or call me and we will set up our next session,” standing she pulled out her purse readying to pay.
“Hey this one’s on me.” he said, placing his hand on top of her purse.
Shocked, she let out a soft “k” as she nodded. Standing quickly he helped her with her jacket before shaking her hand goodbye and watching as she gracefully exited the building.
Returning to his seat he picked up the folder once again and looked at the top right hand corner of the form. Eager to learn her name.
Doctor Eira Mitchel.
Eira.
Teagan...would she be ok with Eria? Would she approve of his actions today? Of the joy he had felt?
Quickly closing the folder, he paid for the table and made the short walk to his car. Taking the 15 minute drive back to work he couldn't help but feel guilt. Erin would have been disappointed in him for trying to get help when he was the reason she was gone.
~~
Stepping in the cold air she finally got a chance to catch her breath. While he had been sweet, charming and very courteous. She couldn't help but feel lost. Normally she could tell if someone was suffering the loss of a loved one or a best friend. It seemed to be both for him. The pain he felt was locked behind a wall of guilt, suicidal thoughts and pain. He would not be a simple fix. While she had never expected anyone's pain to be temporary she could never understand how strangers could be so mean to each other. Throughout school she had suffered with being different. She was a target. While she was able to let most of the words roll off, she struggled with body image for years. They always seemed fixated on her hair and her body. After being called “greasy” and fat for years she had tried homeschooling but the isolation had gotten the better of her and she wanted to be around friends again. Maybe that was a part of his problem. Isolation. Hopefully the “homework” would allow him to feel slightly normal again. Even for a day.
It was clear that he had lost someone close to him. However it was still a work day and she could not stay fixated on him all day. Quickly stepping onto the elevator she organized her thoughts and attempted to focus on her upcoming patients. Attempted being the key word. During time between patients she would find herself wondering about him. His past, if he would do as she requested. How no one else she had met had ever shown such respect and grace to her as he did during their previous three meetings. Even if he was thinking about her. That one was always enough to snap her back to reality and focus on the problems in front of her.
~~
Later that evening while doing her notes she kept drifting back to him. She liked to build profiles on each patient for quick reference. On a busy day she would be seeing anyone who would call down for a psych consultation, her regular meetings as well as meetings with possible future patients. She could be up and down the elevator 20-30 times a day or not move till lunch. Upon finishing her last bit of paperwork for the evening she found her hand drifting above the mouse pad on her laptop. She had started a simple file on him already. Name age, basically anything she had collected in the meeting earlier that day or in the day prior. Typing his name into facebook a few hundred came up. After trying several filters she eventually found her man. The page seemed to be fairly empty. A few posts here and there of important updates, a few shared posts but it seemed as quiet as he was. After adding in simple things to her notes she decided the best way was to just google hime, his mother, his last name. Do some minor stalking. She liked having some base knowledge before going into sessions. As she scanned each link she began to lose hope of finding any information on him until a news photo of a younger looking version of him came onto screen.
Clicking on the link she was shocked. He had a sister who died. The article did not provide much information and any other articles provided much less.
Her profile on him left many unanswered questions. Looking down at her page she mumbled out the information to herself and the cat who had perched himself on the back of the couch to stair at the birds as they pecked away at the seeds in the feeder hanging from the roof of the small deck.
Name: flynn moore
Birthday: february 2, 1991
Age: 29
Work: commercial appraiser, real estate attorney
Family: mother: alive connection: unknown.
Father: alive connection:unknown
Siblings: sister:deceased connection: unknown
Hobbies: unknown
Friends: unknown
Groaning, she closed the laptop and threw it on the couch beside her. The cat meowed at her as he jumped off the back of the couch and strutted towards his food bowl.
”Sorry Oreo” she mumbled, getting up and headed for the shower before calling it a night. He was a man of mystery and she wanted to know more.
After scrubbing her hair and body clean from the dirt of the day she quickly pulled on her shorts and t-shirt for the night before doing one last check of her email. A bunch of spam and updates for things that didn’t catch her interests. A few work emails that were quickly answered before being discarded to the back of her mind. As she rose her finger and placed it upon the power button she took one last glance at the time. 11:57 pm. She began to push her finger in when her phone chimed.
New email
Subject: questionnaire.
Gasping she sat up and quickly opened it.
Dr. Mitchel,
I would like to thank you once again for taking the time to meet me today. Below I have included a PDF of the questionnaire you left with me. I would love to schedule our next meeting at your convenience.
Have yourself a good day,
Flynn Moore.
Curiosity may have killed the cat. But satisfaction brought it back.
~~
Again while driving home he sat and considered every moment where he could tap the breaks and get hit by a semi, or turn the wheel just slightly and hit a fence post. He knew these thoughts were toxic, wrong, and yet as he passed a lake all he could think of is parking the car and walking down to the water. Would he take his clothes off? Leave a hint as to where he had gone. No that would be silly. They would know it was on purpose then. He should just go on the ice fully clothed that way when the ice broke under his weight it would be marked down as a stupid decision gone wrong. The footprints in the melting snow would indicate his direction of travel. The broken ice and water splashed along the edges would simply show where he had fallen in. He would struggle for a moment to make it look like he tried but after he would simply relax and slip into the water. It wouldn't take much. He sat through a full light change and part way through a second one when a honk urged him forwards.
Upon arriving home, he would leave the lights off, kick his shoes off in the same spot he always did, keys in the glass bowl and straight to the fridge for a cold beer. He would turn the tv on to make it seem like he was doing ok to his neighbours. Especially nosey Miss. Harrison down the hall. She would regularly gossip on the elevator usually missing her floor to hear the latest gossip.
But tonight was slightly different. He had wanted to come home and fill out the papers that Eira gave him. Upon opening the cold beer and turning the television on he got straight to work.
Pre Appointment questions
Please fill out the following questions to the best of your abilities, if you are unsure of your answer we can always adjust your goals or limits as treatment progresses. If you have any questions please contact me via email and I will respond as quickly as I can.
Name:
Birthdate:
medications/health concerns
Email:
Phone:
Emergency Contact
Availability:
Goals:
Short term goal:
Long term goal:
Topics that are off-limits unless therapist feels appropriate to discuss:
Topics that are strictly off limits until brought up by you:
While it didn't seem like much the limits and goals took several moments to fill in. While his mother was easily placed in the emergency contact slot, he did not intend to inform his mother of his doings. He had done counselling after that night and was deemed as grieving, he had never thought of doing it again. His mother had raved about what wonderful things the therapist had been doing for her but he had felt like the therapist had only been placing more blame upon him.
Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity he had filled out the form.
Name: Flynn Douglas Moore
Birth date: February 2, 1991
Medications/health concerns: none
Email: Flynn.Moore@westmount.ca
Phone: 250-866-9272
Emergency contact: Anna Moore Relationship: mother phone:250-866-2834
Availability:open unless I have been previously scheduled for a meeting. Please consult for exact times
Goals: want to live life, have a family, not feel as guilty
Short term goal: have a treatment plan
Long term goal: feel “normal”
Topics that are off limits unless therapist feels appropriate to discuss: all is open until otherwise stated
Topics that are strictly off limits until brought up by you: my sister
With that finished he quickly scanned it, answered a few emails and watched a touch of television before crawling under the messy blankets and calling it a night.
CHAPTER FOUR
The night had been filled with gut wrenching nightmares; He had not slept worse in months. While his schedule seemed too busy to cancel he deeply considered laying in bed all day. Yesterday had taken its toll on him; to While not physically exhausting his emotions had been in a state of hyper awareness. Each moment of happiness was replaced with her broken face.
His phone lit up, vibrating as the first messages of the day slipped in, reminders would shortly follow, then the phone calls that he would forward to his secretary; unless it was family or personal.
Finally gaining the strength he pushed his body from the soft comfort of the bed and took a deep breath as he convinced his body to take a step towards the bathroom. The heat of the shower quickly took over the room. He stood in front of the mirror, his grip tight on the countertop. He could feel the hairs along his arm stand as goose bumps quickly covered his whole body. He could feel her eyes on the back of his neck. As the mirror was encased by the fog from the shower, his gut dropped.
He could feel the slither of her voice dip into his ear as she whispered, “Your fault. Your fault,” over and over again. Slamming his hand into the mirror he quickly wiped the condensation from his view. Locking eyes with himself, he took a rather large breath before slowly glancing behind him. It was only in his head, she was never there. She had never even stepped foot into this apartment. Nothing of hers was inside the apartment. Not even a photo.
The memories of her smile, her laugh, her voice was enough to drive him mad. He had betrayed her. Grabbing his phone he sunk down to the floor. A quick yet informative text to his secretary would get him free for the day.
Reschedule appointments. Sick.
It was that simple. No one would question him. He rarely got sick enough not to go into work, but when he did he could safely take several days off.
The quiet beep of his phone was his confirmation that he could do anything today. While his body asked for no such thing, his mind begged him to go back to sleep. Though sleep was no safe place. She would often creep into his mind and play tricks upon him until he woke up in a suit of sweat. He feared the only escape from this pain was to escape to six feet under.
After a shower almost an hour later in icey warm conditions, he found himself sitting on his couch in his most comfortable sweatpants, starting a tv where many men ran back and forth on a large field throwing or catching some sort of ball. His focus was on his phone. She had asked him to meet with at least one friend. Tim, john? Maybe jack. No none of these were friends after his sister. As he scrolled further through his phone he each name seemed less and less comforting. It wasn't until he neared the end that a name arose worthy of his interest. He had been there through all of Flynn’s best and worst moments.
While it took several moments of convincing, his thumb grew tired of hovering as he let it slip down and press the glowing screen.
One ring
Two ring
Maybe he wouldn't answer
Four ring
“Hello?”
Deep breath he thought to himself
“Reid, hi. It's um. Well it's Flynn.”
“Flynn? Bloody hell mate, what's it been? A year at least surely!”
A slight smile spread across Flynns face as he heard the irish tinge in Reid's voice
“I um was hoping you would like to join me for a drink sometime. Maybe tomorrow?”
There was a pause, a deep breath followed by a long sigh.
“I’d love to mate but tomorrow is no good for me. Maybe tonight?” The irish accent made every blow land softer than it would from a normal canadian voice.
“Actually that sounds good,” he said as he rose from his spot on the couch. “I'm free in an hour” the sun had already started to set. Had it really been a whole day already?
The next hour never ended. The lights dimmed some more and then he was sat in a sports bar across from the red headed Irishman who had spent the last hour asking about every little detail of his life like the typical shrink would. Funny part was he was nowhere near a shrink; The Irishman was an editor for the newspaper in town. He had been there for all of the ups and downs in Flynn’s life; yet he had never expected to lose contact so suddenly from someone he cared so deeply for. After several rounds of what should have been an ice tea or form of pop but was really beer or vodka inside of a pop. they made the call to end the night and regroup over the weekend. The happy Irishman was lucky to receive a ride from his adorable and short girlfriend Sara who offered to give Flynn a ride home as well but was politely declined. The social exhaustion was starting to hit him as he said his goodbyes and made his way to the door.
Knowing Reed could never say no to a drink he had made the smart choice to leave his car at home and take the train. Now he had slightly regretted saying no to the ride as he stepped into a cold puddle of slushy snow just outside the door. Instead he pulled his jacket tighter and took a deep breath before starting the short walk to the train station.
Meanwhile across town Eria had been finishing up her paperwork in hopes to catch the final train home. Nothing worse than paying that $30taxi fee to get home after a long day at work.
Quickly putting her paperwork away she raced down the steps of the hospital entrance and down the road. Her heels clicked almost as quickly as her fingers had been as they flew across the keys of her computer mere moments ago.
As she passed through the gate of the train station, the gate barely had time to click shut when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Turning the corner she watched as the train began to move.
“Wait!” she screamed after the rounded metal as it pulled out of the light and into the tunnel of darkness leaving her stranded and out of breath on the platform.
“Doctor?” a voice called out from the opposite end of the platform. Looking up she saw the concerned look of her newest patient. Flynn.
“Mr. Moore?” she said, straightening her stance
She watched as his eyes drifted to where the train had pulled away mere moments ago and back to her clearly exhausted yet professional stance.
“Guess we’re in the same boat.” he nodded towards the fading red lights on the rear of the train.
“Guess we are,” she said, glancing towards the stairs. Even in his slightly drunken state he knew that she would be scared in this moment. A woman alone on a subway platform with a man she had only met a few days previous who was intoxicated. It was a recipe for disaster in her eyes. Was this how she felt?
“I'm sorry doctor, I'm sure your evening plans don't include a drunk client and a missed train. I promise even when I am drunk, I don't lay my hands on a woman.” he said raising his hands in the air.
“You seem like you've been in this situation before.” she replied, still hesitant to move closer.
“No.” he stated. “ I just heard stories and I know they never asked for it. They just wanted to live their lives.”
As he glanced to the ground the air turned stale.
“Um i should probably get going.” she said pointing towards the stairs.
“Wait!” he reached out towards her. “ um I'm sorry it's just, it can be a scary town especially at night. Would it be alright if i made sure you made it home alright?”
She glanced up the stairs again into the night, hearing the sirens off in the distance sent a shiver down her spine. She knew what could happen to a girl like her alone at night. She had seen it in several rape survivors that she had helped treat at the hospital as well as a few kidnap cases.
“Where do you live?” she questioned, still hesitant to go with someone she barely knew.
“Bruce ave.” he said, taking a slight stumble forwards.
Taking a deep breath she nodded.
“I live on fourth.” she sighed. “Just let me text a friend. Just in case.”
He nodded
“ I completely understand. Always be safe, never be sorry, right?” he let out a soft chuckle. She smiled and quickly texted his name to a close friend from university who she had spoken to at least once a week or when she needed a little advice on how to handle a patient or a life crisis. Such as fashion or men. Not that men were ever a priority.
“Ready when you are.” she said as she slipped the phone back into her purse.
“I'm actually really glad I ran into you doctor,” he said as they ascended the stairs. “I wanted to thank you for pushing me to meet up with a friend,” as they broke the surface he quickly hailed a taxi.
“How did it go?” she said as they slid into the back seat.
“Really well. We went to a bar and had a few drinks caught up on life and made plans to watch the hockey game next week.” he replied as he sat in the seat.
“Where to, my boy?” the cabbie yawned.
“Corner of bruce and fourth please,” he responded, checking his pockets one last time for his phone, keys and wallet.
For a moment there was nothing but the soft city music barely audible against the horns and yelling of the roads surrounding the small yellow car. People running between bars, doors opening and closing as people slid in between the city lights and the soft glow of the row of vehicles that lined the roads. Some red lights sat on for several minutes while others were mere seconds before pulling back into the already jammed roads.
“Um, I was wondering when i could meet with you again? I went through that document you had requested,” he said, glancing towards her before focusing on his shoes, realizing it may have been a little too forward and uncomfortable.
“How does lunch tomorrow sound?” she said surprising him.
“Here we are.” the cabbie said, pulling up to the curb. Eria began pulling out her wallet until a machine was passed to Flynn and he had paid, tipped and was already making his way around to open the door for her.
“Caught a good one there hon.” the cabbie said.
“Oh he’s not mine. He's a client.” she said locking eyes with him in the rear view mirror. The suggestive raised eye caused her to blush.
“Oh no. not like that I mean I work for him,” she said, stumbling over herself. As the cabbies eyebrow raised more.
“No I mean um I, it's strictly professional.” she said attempting to clear things up without embarrassing Flynn. Just as she began attempting to clear it up for a fourth time Flynn opened the door.
“She's my therapist.” he flatly said, reaching for her hand to help her out of the cab. The cabbie simply chuckled and waved as Flynn closed the door before the cab headed out into the chaos of the city night roads.
“I'm sorry about that. I guess I still put my foot in my mouth from time to time.” she said blushing at the ground. He simply chuckled before asking which way. Taking a quick second to get herself in order she pointed towards her apartment
“Um, I was wondering when i could meet with you again? I sent through that document you had requested,” he said, glancing towards her before focusing on his shoes, realizing it may have been a little too forward and uncomfortable.
“How does lunch tomorrow sound?” she said surprising him.
“Here we are.” the cabbie said, pulling up to the curb. Eria began pulling out her wallet until a machine was passed to Flynn and he had paid, tipped and was already making his way around to open the door for her.
“Caught a good one there hon.” the cabbie said.
“Oh he’s not mine. He's a client.” she said locking eyes with him in the rear view mirror. The suggestive raised eye caused her to blush.
“Oh no. not like that I mean I work for him,” she said, stumbling over herself. As the cabbies eyebrow raised more.
“No I mean um I, it's strictly professional.” she said attempting to clear things up without embarrassing Flynn. Just as she began attempting to clear it up for a fourth time Flynn opened the door.
“She's my therapist.” he flatly said, reaching for her hand to help her out of the cab. The cabbie simply chuckled and waved as Flynn closed the door before the cab headed out into the chaos of the city night roads.
“I'm sorry about that. I guess I still put my foot in my mouth from time to time.” she said blushing at the ground. He simply chuckled before asking which way. Taking a quick second to get herself in order she pointed towards her apartment.
They walked in silence for several blocks. Flynn looked at the road and lights ahead while Eira looked down at her feet. Why had she not brought a second pair of shoes with her. She had almost tripped several times on the icy roads in these death traps.
Their arms had been casually bump into each other from time to time. Each time it did they would look away and scoot to the edge of the sidewalk before walking closer again due to the high snow banks and limited trail.
The awkward walk was short lived as they came to a stop at the entrance of her building.
“Thank you for accompanying me tonight Mr. Moore.” Eria said, holding out her hand for him to shake. “I do hope you feel good tomorrow. Try to drink some water before you fall asleep tonight.”
Chuckling yet again he reached down and shook her hand.
“Always take care of people arent you doc?” he said with a sweet smile. Releasing her hand he took a step back and waved a good night to her before making his way back down the road to his apartment.
CHAPTER FIVE
The morning rush slipped through the windows of young Eria’s apartment. She had the day off and was determined to sleep in a little later than normal. While it wasn’t in her personality to sleep in later than 10, she had always stuck to a carefully devised schedule. Up at 9 shower and out the door to the gym by 10. If it's nice out a jog around the park, lunch which was usually a chicken chaser salad, and if she was still hungry a small slice of cake or pie. Then finally home to read a book or call her mother. It wasn’t a very busy day. Often it ended up being a sweats and run around day if needed. But today she required more sleep. Not because she was tired but because she was mentally exhausted. Missing the train last night, the embarrassment in front of the cabbie, and not to mention the stack of dishes she had forgotten to do the night before had attracted fruit flies! It was one of those nights where after all was said and done, when you finally crawled into bed, you didn’t sleep, you would stare at the ceiling while the lights from passing cars made funny shapes, where the clock would tick just a bit too loud. The blankets were just too warm but if you took them off it felt too cold. But a leg out made you think a monster would come eat your foot. It was a silly thought but it always made you keep your feet under the covers.
Her cell phone had buzzed next to her head as she lay there stroking the soft fur on the back of the black purring mess that lay happily upon her chest. Erica never could tell if the extra attention in the morning was a joy because she had awoken or like a child begging for breakfast. When the phone buzzed a second time the cat opened his eyes and stared at it, almost as if he knew she would not normally receive a text this early on a Sunday. Let alone still be in bed at this hour.
Yet he still seemed pleased even as his warm spot upon her chest was quickly removed from his belly as she rolled over to check the awaiting messages. Eria sat with her back against the bare wall as the slender black cat found his comfort again upon her lap.
“Good morning doctor, I was hoping we could grab a bite to eat or a coffee today and discuss potential meeting times. - flynn”
“Could you come in and cover for shay? - Rebecca”
Her thumb hovered over the first message with a lump in her throat. Why did she have such a strange feeling about him? Why did she want to know more about him?
Clicking on his message she typed out “Stanley park, 2:00. “ before replying to Rebecca with a first time, “sorry, I have plans.”
Upon entering the park, she walked around as they did not have a location to meet. In her mind the most logical thing would be to meet at the center fountain or one of the entrances. She thought a part of the reason she didn’t tell him was a hope that he wouldn’t show. She did not know much about him but she felt a connection to him.
She strolled towards the fountain taking a deep breath and scanning ahead for him.
Ding!
Her phone went off in her hand
“You look very nice today. -Flynn”
As she looked up she caught his eye in her own. He had a coffee in one hand and was reaching for another that was set on the edge of the fountain.
The wound, still a fresh pink peeking out of the tan bandage on his forehead was the first thing she had noticed as she approached him. It was a bad idea to meet a patient outside of the hospital or a professional setting but there was something that made her wonder. He was a successful guy with everything he could ever ask for, a strong family connection and a happy childhood, yet he stood there coffee in hand watching as her short legs made the shy strides towards him and he felt lonely. Sad. hurt.
“I wasn’t sure if you drank coffee so I got you a tea. I remembered you ordering one at the restaurant. Two honey one cream.” He said, passing her the cardboard cup.
“Thank you” she said slightly shocked. No one ever remembered the cream part, they all said it was a weird thing to put in tea. It always annoyed her that she had kept some of those small cream cups in her desk.
Stepping to the side Flynn gestured for her to lead the way.
“So why the park?” He questioned.
“I enjoy being near the water and the paths are relaxing” she said while thinking that it was also busy enough that if he did try to kill her someone would see him trying to drag her body away but calm enough that nobody would interrupt their conversation unless it got heated.
“So you said you wanted to discuss potential meeting times? I imagine we could have done that through text or over the phone.” She looked at him with curiosity.
“I suppose so, or you could have just checked the form I filled out for you with my information.” He chuckled back at her.
“Yes, I suppose that too could have worked. Which means you wanted to meet outside of the hours you set out. Routines and schedules are important to keep Mr.Moore even the ones we do without meaning too.” She said, taking a sip of the tea, enjoying the warmth as it trickled down her throat and landed in a warm puddle in her stomach.
“That may be true as well Miss. Mitchel. However you too are not at your office today and have not given me a time limit which means you too are here against routines and schedules, as well as outside of the hours you agree to meet upon.” He replied sipping his coffee with a slight smirk. Amused she turned and looked at him with a sight smile.
“Mr. Moore, you wouldn’t be making fun of me would you? Because if that was the case i may have to terminate the contract.”
Chuckling he turned to her and lean down slightly
“Now, now Miss. Mitchel wouldn’t that go against your nature to help people?”
Laughing she nodded. “That would be true sir.”
He smiled as she laughed. It was sweet like honey. The thought made him chuckled, the cliche sentence had never been so true. Was this what the writers of books meant when they said things like that?
“Mr. Moore, on a more serious note. I feel as if we should discuss what happened that has made you upset enough to text me this morning for a sudden meeting.” She said in a slightly more serious tone.
Freezing he sighed, he could still feel the shiver in his spine from his shower the day previous , the night mares of his sister. The guilt.
“I had a long night. I seemed to be having dreams that made me sick to my stomach.” He stared at his shoes. The contrast between the black tops of the dress shoes he had come to find comfortable against the white snow that had freshly fallen the night before as it glistened under the sun with the pebbles that snuck through. The footprints going in both directions making him want to run away from her. Knowing he could easily cover his tracks among the others that had chosen this path earlier that morning.
“And these dreams? Were they related to your past?” She asked
A simple nod.
“Is it a topic you would like to speak about?”
“It’s complicated.” He said
“Mr. Moore I understand that talking about certain things can be painful. So painful it can make you wish you were anywhere else. But that pain is only temporary. However you need to feel that pain in order to heal.” She said as she gently placed a hand among his arm.
“On your left” a jogger said as he zoomed by. A sign that they should keep moving.
“It’s a topic I am not ready to discuss” he said walking forwards leaving her warm touch behind. “It involves people and things I still regret to this day.”
to be continued....
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