Propose? Am I ready for that?
“Yes,” he muttered aloud, “I want to propose marriage to Sabrina. It’s been my intention since the day we first met.”
It occurred to him that when he proposed marriage to the one and only true love of his life, he’d need a ring. He wanted to do it right. He wanted to offer her a life with him on bended-knee while holding her hand in his. He wanted to make the proposition the traditional way. Alec grinned and the action caused sandy-brown lashes to cover his sparkling, startling blue eyes.
“Yes, I want to do it right,” he proclaimed.
When he was twenty-one, Cassidy had given him Grandmother Saguache’s wedding rings. The engagement ring was a one caret, brilliant-cut blue diamond mounted in a simple band of white gold. A beautiful and valuable heirloom, it would do Sabrina justice. His mother had said, “This ring was passed to Jazibella from her grandmother. It is to be given to your wife when the time is right for you to marry. Keep it safe and know that it will bring great happiness to your own wife.”
He hoped that Sabrina would love it. The ring was waiting in a special box in his bedroom dresser drawer. And now, he knew the time was right. He would propose when he returned to New Orleans.
In the meantime, the news of Monsignor Abernathy’s death spread like wildfire throughout the French Quarter. His name was on everyone’s lips. Some cried. Others made the sign of the cross. And a few felt a bit of relief.
Santeria heard the news like everyone else. She was slow and careful with her response, guarding her reaction.
At the first opportunity, she retrieved the note that was sent to her on the day Vivien Simon last visited. Santeria gently rubbed her finger over the signature, M. She had known immediately who sent it. It had frightened her. She knew a great deal about the man’s life. She knew what he was capable of doing to anyone who got in his way.
Santeria went behind her curtained off area and lit a candle. As she thought about Monsignor Abernathy’s evil deeds, she held the note over the candle’s flame. “You’ll never hold power over us again,” she whispered as the paper turned to ash.
Chapter 21
Alec pulled the rental car into the parking lot of the first clinic on his route. He retrieved his jacket from the backseat. He was wearing a royal blue shirt, black slacks, and a red tie with blue stripes. The color of the shirt enhanced his aquamarine eyes, making them even more pronounced. He looked very professional, and as he slipped on the jacket, he instantly took on his medical supply rep identity. He was no longer a retired Army medic or an angel or demon. He was ready to fulfill the responsibilities of his position.
Alec liked his new job. It was official and credible, but it also gave him the time needed to follow his true passion in two additional locations: Mobile, Alabama and Melbourne, Florida. It spread his reach over three states and warded off any undue notice or attention of his primary activities in New Orleans.
If he had utilized his army medic training to become an Emergency Medical Services (EMS) Paramedic, the job would’ve given him little time to pursue his real mission in life.
Alec entered the facility where Dr. Anthony Avila saw psychiatric patients twelve hours a day. The clinic, open six days a week from seven to seven, also maintained an emergency staff each Sunday. As a large industrial-type building, it had been converted to meet the needs of the mentally ill patients seen here. Dr. Avila took his practice very seriously.
The large waiting room in the front of the building was almost filled with depressed and agitated patients. Two Licensed Professional Counselors and their nurses, performed intake and triage. This procedure allowed them to assess which ones to see in the treatment rooms and who required the crisis center.
In the back, the crisis center held various private beds, similar to hospital rooms. It was fully staffed and open twenty-four-seven. There, Dr. Avila, along with his personnel, could help a patient through an emergency without actually admitting them to a psychiatric facility. It was one of the many ways, the good doctor attempted to aid his patients.
Dr. Avila had personal experience with the chemically unbalanced and disturbed mind. His daughter, Tiffany, had presented with psychosis in her early teens. Promptly diagnosed as schizophrenic and passed through the system, she didn’t get the help needed. She wasn’t actually schizophrenic; she was hormonally imbalanced. A simple but overlooked diagnosis. She could’ve received hormone replacement therapy or supplements and recovered easily enough. However, that wasn’t Tiffany’s fate and the results were catastrophic.
Often, many laymen and psychiatric patients referred to the diagnosis and treatment of mental and behavioral disorders as a ‘slaughterhouse’— since the methods used were similar to the treatment received in one. Many times, the patient was first stunned into submission. Then, administered drugs, the patients were sedated. Lastly, they were led to the eventual deaths of their body, mind, or soul. Like cattle, mental health patients were prodded, shoved, and herded toward their own demise. The final blow – a sledgehammer – landing squarely between their eyes. It ended any semblance of life.
Tiffany’s father vowed to change that.
Dr. Avila was old school when his daughter was diagnosed. He firmly believed that if you had a heart problem, you should see a cardiologist. If you had cancer, see an oncologist. Likewise, if you had mental problems, see a psychiatrist. He had relied on those with expertise in the field to treat his daughter.
He didn’t realize that psychiatry held very different practices. He didn’t understand that new patients often were diagnosed and treated by standard, routine prescriptions without full consideration or a complete medical picture. Overmedicated, the young woman fell through the proverbial cracks and committed suicide. She was only seventeen.
Dr. Avila, an internist at the time, was ravaged. He had left the care of his daughter to others and it had resulted in her death.
Unable to accept, reconcile, or rationalize Tiffany’s outcome, he returned to medical school to complete a clinical psychiatric degree. He was on a mission to make sure that what happened to Tiffany never happened again.
He was only one man, but his war against the injustice and prejudicial treatment of the mentally ill became all-consuming as he fought to change treatment practices and perceptions. He struggled to give those who came to his clinic a better option.
Alec entered the front door and handed his business card to the receptionist. She called Skylar, Dr. Avila’s personal assistant, to come out front. This was his second trip to the clinic and he stood at the front desk until she came out.
Skylar, in her late-thirties and dressed in scrubs, extended her hand in greeting and Alec shook it. She was an R.N. Her primary duties always included assisting Dr. Avila in the care and treatment that he prescribed. When he was with a patient, she was ever by his side. She also oversaw some medical business matters such as meeting with Alec now.
“Hello Mr. Winters, please come with me,” Skylar said as she motioned for Alec to follow. Skylar led Alec through the waiting area and towards her office.
The waiting room’s décor was pleasant enough. Filled with low murmurs of unrest, many of the patients rocked back-and-forth, muttering softly, with their arms locked around their midsections. Alec had seen this protective stance often, especially when visiting his sister. The common gesture was an attempt to ward off potential threats to their soft, more vulnerable inner parts. It was also a metaphorical and symbolic effort to hold him or herself together.
In general, many patients in the system came from abusive homes. Emotionally or physically wounded, they were labeled and diagnosed mentally ill or mentally unstable. Meanwhile, their abusive tormentors weren’t punished at all. Those patients received such a diagnosis because no one took the time to figure out what else to do for him or her. Others had suffered a traumatic experience. Their brain chemistry had shifted in response to that emotional shock. A few were treated because a brain injury had turned their worlds upsid
e down.
The mutters and hoarse whispers quieted when Alec walked by. Patients looked at him thoughtfully and with brief clarity before shyly looking away. One woman, timid and reticent, came forward. She gently stroked his arm to ensure that he was real. Then, she returned to her seat with a satisfied grin. Alec smiled at the woman and continued on his way.
“You seem to have a calming effect on our patients, Mr. Winters,” Skylar commented. “It happened the last time you were here, too. I found it odd, but wondered if it was a one-time thing. Now, I can clearly see it was not.”
“I have a younger sister who has been institutionalized since her early teens. I suppose that my acceptance is noticeable to those here,” he quietly replied.
Logically, Alec knew that he easily could have ended up in the same situation. He could’ve also been incorrectly diagnosed and locked away from all that he loved and desired to accomplish. If not for his family’s support, everything could’ve turned out differently. As a teen, if he had told anyone – other than those closest to him – that he’d seen a dark, ugly cloud surrounding his father the night Buck died or that his father screamed in fear and called him a devil, he would’ve certainly been classified as delusional or insane.
Seeing into the spiritual plane was one of the main reasons most people were labeled, diagnosed, medicated, and then, imprisoned. Catalina had confided that her doctors repeatedly questioned her. “If you see an angel and I don’t see the same thing, how can you say it is real? Don’t you think someone else would also see this angel? When you see something no one else can see, you are hallucinating, delusional and a bit psychotic.” Alec, realizing how fortunate he was, silently vowed to never take that providence for granted.
Once inside Skylar’s office, she pulled out the list of supplies and medications needed. Alec sat down to enter the information into a company-provided laptop. He wouldn’t see Dr. Avila until the order was ready for electronic transmission. Then, it required the doctor’s personal signature and password. It was a failsafe to make sure that unauthorized drug orders were never placed.
After leaving Avila’s clinic, Alec continued to make the rounds to hospitals and other clinics in the area. He swiftly went about his duties. By late afternoon, he had already seen more than half of those on his route. The company allowed a full five days to service their customers in Mobile, but he was so adept at the job, he completed the work much sooner. The extra time allowed him to track down predators and save the innocent.
Chapter 22
After businesses began to close and Alec had seen everyone he could for the day, he drove toward Water Street, desiring to find a hotel near Royal, Dauphin, or St. Francis streets. On the way, he noticed a Circle K on the right. Something about the convenience store mysteriously grabbed Alec’s attention. The lights around the banner flashed on and off like a rabid strobe light.
Alec pulled into the parking lot and looked around before getting out of the car. The ghost of his grandfather, Martin Saguache, leaned against the building as he nonchalantly smoked his favorite pipe. Alec was certain his grandfather was responsible for the peculiar flashing sign.
Alec followed his grandfather inside the store and to a row of prepaid phones. Although, he didn’t understand why it was important at the time, he picked up one of the phones and looked at his grandfather. Martin, unusually quiet, was satisfied. Never a big talker in life or death, his grandfather only nodded, seemingly pleased.
“Grandfather, are you still angry?” Alec asked.
“I was never upset or angry at you Alec. I’m very proud of you. I’m worried about the consequences,” Martin replied.
“You successfully have me worried too,” Alec responded as he headed to the cashier.
“This is a nonsmoking building,” a young male commented as Alec stood at the register.
“I’m not smoking,” Alec replied.
“Well, you smell like you’re smoking right now,” the unruffled clerk responded while he bagged the item.
“I’m not,” Alec assured him.
Next, Alec found a Mom and Pop motel. The accommodations were nice enough, but the main reason he chose it was to be close to the city’s downtown scene. Mobile tried to keep the popular area clean and safe due to cruise ship passengers and the money those tourists brought to the area, but it wasn’t always clean or safe.
There had been several prostitution stings lately. The Alabama State Police had discovered the network spanned from New Orleans to Pensacola. They’d rounded-up over forty adults, along with a few teenagers, but there were still plenty of streetwalkers and working girls around the more popular hotels and clubs. Wherever there was desperation, there was also a prolific element of corruption and abuse. The two went hand-in-hand.
After Alec settled in the room, he called Sabrina. Her melodious voice soothed his soul more than anything else in the world. After her sweet, warm greeting, he asked, “Why aren’t you at home with Mother?”
“You mustn’t worry. I’ll tell you what I told Cassidy…I have so many little things to do that I need to be here to do them. Don’t worry about me. Over the years, we’ve spent a lot of time apart. Months passed without us talking to each other. Just do your work while I finish my chores and responsibilities here. We’ll catch up when you get back and we’re finally together.”
“Are you asking me to leave you alone and allow you to have some space?” Alec asked.
“I’m only saying that we both have responsibilities, my love. We’ll be together soon. Then, you’ll probably beg me to return to my condo so you can have some peace,” she teased.
“I love you so very much, Sabrina,” he said, opening his heart to hers. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to know that you’ll soon be living with me, with us, at the family home. You make me very happy, love. This is a dream come true for me. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“It’s what I’ve always wanted too. It feels like a real family again. I haven’t felt this way since my mother was alive. I’ve missed you so much! I’ve missed this…Let us both get busy in order to make it a reality. By the time you return, I’ll be moved in and we’ll finally be together. I’ll talk to you again when you get home.”
Next, he called Cassidy. The Winters’ family members were a close-knit group, but while Alec was in the army, they had grown accustomed to rare conversations that generally got directly to the point. Now, he listened as his mother gave an update.
“Sabrina is arranging for her guest bedroom suite to be delivered tomorrow. After that, there isn’t anything that prevents Cat from coming home,” Cassidy confided.
“Really?” he replied. “That’s great news, but I thought you were going to wait until I returned. Aren’t you worried that Catalina’s adjustment to life outside the hospital is dependent on my presence?”
“Well, I talked to her and she insists she’ll be fine with me and Sabrina here while you’re away. Of course, she is anxious for you to be here too. However, she’s ready and doesn’t want to delay it. I don’t want to postpone it either.” Cassidy was silent for a few moments and then added, “Are you feeling left out? Must the women in your life always revolve around you, dear son?”
He chuckled as they ended the call.
Next, he called Chaz Lambert. It was only fitting that Chaz should be the first to know that Alec would propose to Sabrina.
“It’s good to hear your voice, Alec,” Chaz enthused. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“I wanted you to know that I’m in Mobile, but when I return in a few days, I’ll ask Sabrina to marry me.”
“That’s great news, man!” Chaz yipped. “Have you told anyone else?”
“You’re the first.”
“Then, let me be the first to congratulate you, Alec.”
“Thank you, Chaz. It’s been a long time coming, but now Sabrina and I can have a life together.”
“She’ll be very happy, Alec. It’s what she’s always wanted. It’s what you�
�ve both wanted for a very long time. I’m happy it’s coming together for the two of you. And, I’m honored that I’m the first to know. By the way, if you’re going to become a family man, why don’t you take that Paramedic job you were offered a few months back? Sabrina might like to have her husband in town more often.”
“I haven’t really considered that aspect. For now, the job I have pays well and I’m into the routine. I’ll think about it and talk it over with Sabrina. We’ll see after that. How’s Celina?” Alec asked.
“We’re good. Not ready to walk down the aisle or anything, but we’re happy with each other and I guess that’s what matters most.”
Chapter 23
After the call with Chaz ended, Alec took a walk around the city center to observe those on the streets. As he passed by the many people, he used his astute people-reading skills. Even in the dim streetlight, and almost immediately, a man and woman attracted Alec’s attention.
They held a young woman securely between them, controlling her every movement. The man draped his left arm around the teen’s shoulders and across her neck while the woman held her securely by the right arm. Unnoticed, Alec closely followed them.
Cassidy often joked that Alec was like a ghost, materializing out of thin air or appearing instantaneously without warning. His mother’s description was very accurate. There was a certain mystery about Alec – he moved quietly and silently through any crowd by intention. It was only a small part of his supernatural gifts.
It also helped that nothing about Alec’s physical appearance drew the attention of others. If anyone noticed him at all, he was quickly forgotten. He was handsome, but not too handsome. He was athletic, but didn’t appear too strong or muscular. It was even difficult to determine his age.
Port City (An Alec Winters Series Book 3) Page 9
