Secrets Of Sanctuary Hospital A Hidden Enclave For Angels, Demons, And Vampires

by L.A.A. Law

Chapter Four – Andrew

  Entering the kitchen, I notice a tall, muscle toned man; his head hanging; gripping the counter with his back towards me. Not wanting to disturb him, I turn to leave, but my stomach growls causing him to turn around. He doesn’t meet my eyes, but the anguish dominating his features is inescapable and I feel an overwhelming desire to wrap my arms around him and comfort him. His short, raven hair frames his pale complexion, high cheekbones and sculpted lips. He is devastatingly beautiful, irrespective of his tortured features.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t know anyone was in here. Are you alright?”

  His eyes slowly draw up meeting mine. I am mesmerized by his anguished glare. His gray eyes remind me of turbulent storm clouds. He struggles to control whatever emotions threaten to overtake him, his eyes flash serene blue before returning to gray. I must have been looking at a computer screen too long. Staring at him, the image of the man hovering over me flitters across my memory. I am sure he is the reason that I am standing here now. “It’s you!”

  Before I can say anything more, his sultry, tenor voice entangles my mind. “I lost a good soul today. It hit me very hard. You must be Mia, I’m Andrew.”

  His narrowing eyes tell me that he recognizes me and answered my earlier question to distract me. If they work here, why didn’t they take me here? Why are they pretending they didn’t save me?

  He gestures toward the table with his long fingers, interrupting my thoughts. “Your dinner will get cold. Don’t let my dark mood keep you from eating.”

  Hunger gets the better of me. I sit down, mindful that he is the one who asked me not to bring up my accident. Maybe in his obvious distraction, I can get some answers. “Would you join me? I hate to eat alone.”

  He hesitates, but sits down.

  Knowing that asking about my accident straight away will only cause him to leave, I start with the only other topic I can. “What was your patient’s name?”

  “Amber.”

  “Was she sick for a long time?”

  “No, her parents transferred her here to undergo experimental treatment. Amber suffered severe head trauma during a train accident in Boston and never regained consciousness.”

  I gasp as unbidden visions of the little girl on the train invade my memory.

  “Am I upsetting you?”

  “No, I was at that accident a lot of good people died! How did she die?”

  His voice is taut with anguish. “Her organs finally failed. I wish her family had made it up to be with her in her final moments instead of me. Her mother is going to be devastated.”

  He must be part of the terminal care department. I wonder if he is new. “Is this the first time you have lost a patient?”

  “No, I head the terminal department.”

  “Does losing patients ever get easier?” I know my inquiry sounds absurd, but I can’t help wondering if it ever gets better or if I will carry the look of the girl on the train and the patient I couldn’t save in Minnesota, who jumped off a building screaming that there was no other way to stop the voices, to my grave.

  A sullen look overtakes him. “It’s never easy to lose such a young soul. Amber was only fourteen and the accident is ripping her family apart. Her mother escaped without any serious physical injuries and I’m afraid that the guilt over that and the loss of her daughter will lead her to become a psychiatric patient here. I don’t want to see Alex here and Max without a mother!”

  “You care a lot for the families of your patients.” It’s not a question, but an observation from listening to his impassioned voice.

  “I just wish I had something comforting to say to them and Amber’s soul found solace. I wanted to win this one!”

  Listening to the religious overtones of his soliloquy, I can’t help but ask. “Are you religious?”

  He hesitates. “I know there is an existence for a person’s essence after this life.”

  “Does that help you in dealing with their loss?”

  “It helps only when the soul passing will experience the peace of paradise.” He sounds frustrated.

  “I don’t understand. How can you know?”

  His features turn concerned and he rises quickly. “I see you finished dinner. Thank you for listening to my ranting. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Eva.”

  As he exits, I chastise myself for missing my opportunity to question him about my accident. Turning to leave, Catherine is there.

  “I thought I heard you in here.” She places the electronics on the table.

  “The chowder is excellent. Can I heat some for you?”

  “No thank you, Gabriel brought me some.”

  “How could he, he went to his room?”

  Her eyes shift toward the stove. “He had it delivered. I have to finish a report, excuse me.” She bolts gracefully.

  My observations can sure clear a room.

  Entering my suite, I am met with the fresh scent of gardenias which are next to a big fruit basket with a note reading Hope your first day went well and this will provide healthy midnight snacks until you can fill your cupboards with the good stuff, or should I say your unhealthy favorites. Eva

  I’m surprised she remembered my inconsequential mentioning in a college email. Opening my computer, I log onto my messages which is barraged with emails from my sister and mother. I read the last one from my sister first. Do you always have to be so dramatic? Your phone was returned to mom weeks ago and she is going crazy, especially since you bolted from here without telling anyone where you were headed.

  I call my mother. Despite our disagreements, I don’t want her worrying. As her phone rings I email my sister. I did lose my telephone and was in a minor accident on route to a new job. I’m contacting mom now. Sorry for the trouble. My writing is interrupted when the answering service picks up. “Good evening, how may I assist you?”

  “Hello, this is Mia.”

  “Mia, where have you been? Your mother has been going crazy since someone in New York answered her call! She is in surgery, but I’ll get her the message. Where can she reach you?”

  “My new number is 207-871-1289.”

  “Would you like me to send you your telephone?”

  “No. Please place it in the donation box for soldiers.”

  While waiting, I complete my sister’s email. I took a position at Sanctuary Hospital in Maine with Dr. St. Cloud. I just couldn’t squeeze my square peg into our family’s round hole anymore. It was too hurtful for everyone. I hope your and Stephan’s careers will soar now that you don’t have to watch out for me any longer. I hit send as the telephone rings.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry that you were worried.” I blurt out.

  “Where are you? Are you alright?”

  I’ve never heard her voice panicked before. “Mom, I’m fine. I have taken a position at Sanctuary Hospital in Maine.”

  “Isn’t that where Dr. St. Cloud went?”

  “Yes it is, why?”

  “Did she convince you not to contact us these past few weeks by filling your head with psychological babble that we are putting too much pressure on you again?”

  It takes less than two minutes for my mother to slip from concerned to criticizing. I shoot back without thinking. “Eva had nothing to do with that. I was in an accident. I contacted you as soon as I could.”

  Concern re-enters her voice. “Are you hurt?”

  Not wanting to go into details, I lie. “No, it was very minor and I’m fine.”

  Her condescending, authoritative tone returns. “Mia, just come back! We pulled some strings after your mishap and you can intern here in patient follow-up care on a trial basis. If everything goes smoothly, you can transfer to another department.”

  I let her continue a little longer, but finally interrupt. “Mom, I love you, but I can’t keep causing discord in our family by trying to mold myself into something that I will never be! I will never be a great surgeon or be able to dea
l with patients on the same level that you molded Stephan and Katrina. I tried and failed miserably! I just can’t do it anymore! I can’t be the source of my family’s unending disappointment. You of all people should be able to understand that especially after witnessing how much my inabilities frustrate dad.”

  “Mia, losing patients is a hazard of this business. You have to move forward. There are people you could help if you would just stop fighting with everyone and try. You are hiding up there with her!”

  “Mom, I’m done arguing! You need to learn to accept two out of three successes. Maybe in time you’ll understand. I need to do something different, be somewhere where people don’t see me as the only failing Angelis, somewhere where I actually contribute and help. I have accepted a position. I love you, but I’m not coming back! I appreciate your effort, but you shouldn’t have pulled favors on a futile mission.”

  “Mia, that institution is for lost causes. You are giving up, again! All of their patients are beyond help.” She sounds exasperated. “When you finally realize this, it will be too late for us to help you! We have pulled every favor due us and then some. Grow up. Face your issues. Be reasonable!”

  “Mom, I believe I can make a difference here. If I’m wrong, I will live with the consequences. I tried it your way and failed. Can’t you be happy I am getting up and trying again? I can’t continue to argue anymore.”

  “Isn’t there anything I can say to prevent you from ruining your life?”

  “I’m not ruining it, I’m living it! I have to go.” Hanging up, I know my decision will not be accepted. Despite my fervent words, years of insecurity, self-doubt and self-loathing consume me as I offer up a silent prayer that my presence will not do more harm than good and I won’t ruin the lives of those who are trying to help me here the way I ruined my family.

  Just before I log off, a message pops in my inbox from my sister. Despite wanting to ignore it, I draw in a deep breath and open it, hoping that tomorrow will truly be a fresh start. Could you be any more selfish? Mom is frantic and can’t even talk to dad because he’s in Argentina performing a transplant on a diplomat. Are you so bent on destroying your life that you would throw away all of their sacrifices on your behalf! Do you have any idea how much we all risked to keep you on the right path. You may want to pretend you’re pursuing a career, but we all know you’re just avoiding confronting your demons!

  Her superior attitude jumps off the screen. Wanting to diffuse the idea that they can continue debating my life, I quickly reply, constantly reminding myself that diplomacy, while on the internet, is always best. Although I appreciate how everyone feels, I am not running away! Our parents are wonderful doctors and so are you and Stephan, but I just can’t continue to sculpt myself into what everyone else thinks I should be. I don’t want to argue about this. I can’t continue to be a source of disappointment to everyone. Someday, I hope you can see my point of view. I love you and tell mom I love her too. Hitting send, I log off.

  I lay in bed for hours while the criticisms from my family hack away at the last remnants of my ravaged soul. As four a.m. rolls around, my body is so rigid and stiff from anxiety, I can barely move. Rising, I shower. As my body relaxes, my mind wanders, but I can’t escape their words. Maybe they’re right and I am too hopeless to help anyone. Frustrated tears pour down my cheek. I freeze as someone calls my name in a stern voice. “Mia, stop this right now! You are compassionate and will make a world of difference in not only the patients’ lives but your own here.” Getting out of the shower quickly, I go to see who is speaking but find no one. The dead bolt is still latched.