Mirror Image (Capitol Chronicles Book 4)

by Shirley Hailstock

  The snows from before Thanksgiving had long since gone. Today there was no snow, only the dark winter trees against a cold blue sky. She smiled, trying to forget that her mood reflected the same coldness as the day.

  Christmas decorations greeted her at the door of the facility. As usual the nurses rushed to help her inside with her burden of freshly baked cookies. There was the usual flurry of activity before she went to sit with her mother. Today there seemed to be an increase of that activity. She thought people whispered behind her back. When she turned they stopped speaking.

  "Has anything happened to my mother?" she asked the head nurse.

  "Oh, no. Mrs. Alexander is the same."

  "I'll go see her now." Aurora took the box of cookies she'd reserved for her mother and started down the hall. She looked over her shoulder at the nurses. Something was wrong, she thought.

  She found out what it was the moment she opened the door to her mother's room. Marsha Chambers stood up. Impeccably dressed in a winter white suit, she had a Christmas tree pin on her lapel. Aurora looked at her mother, then at the woman standing over her. All three women looked incredibly as if they'd been cast from identical molds.

  "I've been waiting for you," Marsha said.

  "Why?" She went to the bed tray and placed the box on it. Removing her coat she placed it over the bed and stooped in front of her mother. "Hello, Mom." As usual, her mother said nothing, did not acknowledge her presence. "I brought you some cookies. They're your favorite Christmas cookies."

  "Your mother and I have been having a nice visit."

  Aurora scrutinized Marsha's face. What did she want? She came here for a reason.

  “Why are you here?" Aurora removed her coat and laid it on the bed.

  "I know we haven't been friends." Marsha glanced at the floor, then back at Aurora. She looked nervous, and Aurora had never seen her nervous before. "It's my fault, not yours."

  Aurora said nothing. She waited for her look-alike to explain further. "I suppose Duncan told you about Charles Hagan."

  "No," Aurora said. "Neither Duncan nor Coop mentioned him."

  She laughed. "I guess they wouldn't. It was my secret." She stopped, took a deep breath, and went on. She related the story of the blackmailing. "I thought he was trying to kill me because I'd refused to increase the payments I was making."

  Aurora stared at her over her mother. Cass sat there, lost to them. She heard nothing, understood nothing.

  "I apologize for putting your life in jeopardy. When I saw the appeal program and how well you did, I knew I'd lost my show, and I had no one to blame but myself." She laughed again. "Coop says I never blame myself so I placed it on you and came to the studio spoiling for a fight. You were the unlucky recipient.”

  "Is that what you came to say?"

  "Not everything. Charles Hagan has been arrested and will probably spend a lot of time in jail. I'm going to have to testify against him and the press will have a field day with the story."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "Be my friend. Coop says you're a wonderful person and that while everyone else believed me to be 'difficult' you were the only one giving reasons why I acted the way I did." She paused. "I know it might take some time, but I'm willing to try it. Will you help me?"

  Aurora couldn't refuse. She knew about Marsha, the things that had happened to her, why she protected herself from the world. She wanted to be her friend. She'd been trained to help people. How could she refuse someone openly asking for it?

  Aurora nodded tentatively. Marsha impulsively hugged her.

  Aurora pushed her back, stepping away from her embrace.

  “Friendship is earned,” she said.

  Marsha nodded.

  “And it’s a two-way street.”

  Again the talk show hostess nodded.

  “Although I’m a psychologist, I won’t be walked on.”

  “I’m through with that,” Marsha protested.

  “I doubt it.”

  “I know Duncan was the glue holding the show together. He smoothed the feathers in my wake. That’s my job now. No more ruffled feathers.”

  Aurora wasn’t totally convinced. Yet it was a start. And she was into second chances. It was her profession. Marsha was offering to change her attitude. She was asking for that second chance.

  “All right, Marsha. Let’s take it one step at a time?”

  “Agreed.” Marsha smiled, not the television smile, but one that came from a place inside her she hid from the world. This was the genuine Marsha. "Now, I want you to see something." She went to the television, which wasn't a new item in her mother's room. The laptop computer sitting next to it was. Marsha turned the screen on and pressed the PAUSE button. It was already cued to play. Both women took seats on opposite sides of Aurora's mother. Aurora held her mother's hand. In seconds the tape came on and she heard the music of The Marsha Chambers Show.

  "We filmed this yesterday," Marsha whispered.

  Aurora watched. The show was about Alzheimer's Disease. First Marsha interviewed people living with relatives who had the disease. Children, sisters, fathers, husbands, and spouses each told how they coped with the loved one who was no longer there. Tears gathered in Aurora's eyes. She understood the guests' feelings. They mirrored her own.

  "Turn it off," Aurora said, standing up and talking a step toward the machine. "I don't want to see that."

  Marsha immediately stopped the tape. "I know this is hard, Aurora. I understand that you live with the same problems as the people on the tape, but I want you to see it all the way through."

  "Why? What will it change? When it's done my mother will still have Alzheimer's. She still won't recognize me and I won't be able to do anything about it."

  "It can change your attitude, Aurora. I hope it will make you better able to cope with your own life."

  "What do you know about my life?"

  "Very little," she said. "I'd like to know more, and I'd like for you to have more. Please sit down."

  Aurora resumed her seat and the tape picked up where it had stopped.

  Marsha went on to interview an authority on the subject. Aurora knew the facts of the disease. She understood that little by little Alzheimer's ate the brain away, stealing memories and leaving the patients unable to care for themselves.

  Finally a psychologist came on, giving advice to the individuals on how they should go on with their lives. There was nothing they could do, nothing medical science could do, at this time. There was no need to take the guilt onto their shoulders, trying to make something happen, to change what they had no control over. They should live their lives. Aurora couldn't help taking her mother's hand as she watched with interest.

  "You can't live your life through them," the woman on the screen said. "They wouldn't want you to give up your ambitions, your dreams, to watch them slowly die." Tears spilled down her cheeks. Aurora listened. She heard what Duncan had tried to tell her two weeks ago.

  Then one of the guests asked about heredity. Fear bolted through Aurora. She felt she was a time bomb and that sooner or later the same fate that had befallen her mother would he hers.

  "You can't live like that," the psychologist explained. "You have a life. It's a precious gift. You can't waste it thinking about something that might or might not happen."

  Then Marsha went into the audience, but she didn't take questions. Turning, she asked a question of one of the guests on the stage. "Amy, you have a mother who has Alzheimer's and you have a fiancée in the audience."

  Aurora recognized the researcher she'd met her first day on the show, when she was leaving and Amy mistook her for Marsha. A man next to Marsha stood up. "This is Galin North. Galin, how do you feel about the possibility that Amy might one day not remember you?"

  "I love her," he said. "I think any time we have together is better than not having time." Marsha started to remove the microphone, but he continued to talk and she pushed it back toward him. "There isn't any real proof that Alz
heimer's is hereditary," he went on. "I'm hoping she'll carry the memories we make into old age."

  He sat down and the audience applauded. When they finished Marsha spoke again. "We have another member in our audience who feels like Galin."

  Aurora drew breath in when Duncan stood up. "This is Duncan West," Marsha introduced. "His situation is similar to Galin and Amy's."

  "I don't have a fiancée," he said. "I'm in love with a woman you all know. She was Marsha's replacement for a few weeks. We called her Rory. Her mother has Alzheimer's. Rory, I love you. I want to marry you, for better or worse."

  Tears rolled down Aurora’s face. Hot, scalding tears silently rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't hear anything else Duncan said. Marsha pushed a handkerchief into her hand and turned the machine off. Aurora dried her eyes. She heard Marsha leave the room.

  She stood then and again stooped in front of her mother. The eyes that looked back at her were blank. While Aurora had been moved by the program, her mother viewed it as noise in the room. "I have to go, Mom. I might not come to see you for a while, but I will come." She kissed her mother. Duncan loved her and she loved him. He wanted her to marry him, and she wanted nothing more than to spend whatever time she had with him. If it was only a day, she wanted to be with him.

  "I'm going to get married," she said.

  Her spirit lifted as she had always wanted it to when she came here. She turned and picked up her coat. As she passed her mother she squeezed her shoulder. She hoped that touch meant something, since her words could no longer reach her.

  Leaving the room she closed the door silently. She took a step, then stopped abruptly. Duncan stood a few feet from her. Further down the hall Marsha stood with a congregation of nurses and aides. For a moment Aurora couldn't talk. Duncan said nothing. She went numb. She'd just seen him on the screen in miniature. Life-size, he scared her. She hadn't prepared what she intended to say. Had he meant what he'd said on camera?

  "Say something," she commanded.

  "Marry me."

  Aurora's feet found movement and she flew down the hall. Duncan's waiting arms closed around her, squeezed her, lifted her off the floor. She kissed him hard, clinging to him, planting kisses on his mouth, over his face, his eyes, his chin, then back to his mouth. She was holding on. Nothing would take her away. Nothing would keep them apart. From now until the end she was his, and he was hers.

  "I require an answer," he said, setting her on the floor.

  "I'll marry you, Duncan."

  "And California?"

  "California." She smiled and nodded. "I have to sort through all those offers. Maybe I’ll get my own television show.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” Duncan said.

  She kissed him again. This time softly, rubbing her lips over his. He held her tenderly, caressing her like a rare gem. Then she put her whole heart into it. When she pulled back she lay her head on his shoulder. He held her for a precious moment. She leaned back and looked at him.

  "California or anywhere," she whispered, and kissed him with a force so soft and loving it told him their love could not be limited by time and circumstance.

  The End

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Mirror Image! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:

  1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so she can discover me, too.

  2. Help others find this book by writing a review.

  3. Sign up for my new releases e-mail by contacting me at Shirley.Hailstock@comcast.net. I’ll drop you a note when my next book is available.

  4. Come like my Facebook page.

  5. Join my newsletter by sending an e-mail to shirleyhailstock-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. I never send attachments to clog you mailbox.

  Characters are the elements of reading that we remember most. We love the people. As a writer I, too, fall in love with the people. Aurora and Duncan work in the exciting and fast-paced world of television. Like all television programs most of the work goes on behind the scenes. What we see on the screen may only be a Mirror Image of what really happens. Their lives and the culmination of the love between Duncan and Aurora had me crying the same hot, scalding tears as Aurora did over her mother.

  Mrs. Alexander also touched my heart, along with the information I learned about Alzheimer's Disease and its victims. Not only does the patient suffer, but the families, also. Now that you've completed this novel, I suggest you take Duncan West's advice and call your parent or loved one just to say "I love you."

  I receive many letters from the women and men who read my books. Thank you for your generous comments and words of encouragement I love reading your letters as much as I enjoy writing the books.

  If you'd like to hear more about Mirror Image, other books I've written, or upcoming releases, you can reach me at shirley.hailstock@comcast.net. I also have a newsletter which you can subscribe to by sending an e-mail to mailto:ShirleyHailstock-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

  Below you can find a link to other electronic books I’ve written. I hope you’ll try them.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Shirley Hailstock, a short story writers and awarded winning novelist, has been writing for more than ten years. Holding a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry from Howard University and an MBA in Chemical Marketing from Fairleigh Dickinson University, she works for a pharmaceutical company as a systems manager. She is a past President of the New Jersey Romance Writers and is a member of the International Women's Writers Guild among others. She lives in New Jersey with her family.

  Discover other titles by Shirley Hailstock at Smashwords.com:

  Holding Up the World

  Mirror Image

  A Miracle for Christmas

  White Diamonds

  The Magic Shoppe

  Kwanzaa Angel

  Joy Road

  Under the Sheets

  For a full list of books by Shirley Hailstock check out her website at:

  http://www.ShirleyHailstock.net

  Connect with me Online:

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ShirleyHailstockFan

  Email: Shirley.Hailstock@comcast.net

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  Excerpt from White Diamonds

  by Shirley Hailstock

  "Blood!"

  Sandra Rutledge's eyes opened wide as she stared at the red stain dripping through her fingers. The white snow, reflecting from the ground, made the color stand out brighter.

  The man in the car lay slumped over the steering wheel. Instinctively she grasped the door handle and pulled. It opened easily.

  “At least he had the foresight to unlock the door and turn off the engine before he. . .” she stopped, refusing to utter the word. The car was stuck, but it hadn’t been in an accident. The airbag had not deployed. Looking down, Sandra saw breath congealing in the cold air. A sigh of relief escaped her.

  He was alive.

  She had tried to pull him up when she felt the stickiness that dripped through her fingers and stained the snow. She hadn't seen his face. What was he doing on this road? It was the only one that led to her parents' Pocono Mountain cabin. Except for the local park rangers who sometimes came to check to on her, no one came this way without an invitation. And she, as the only occupant at this time, had invited no one.

  Her mother’s first order would have been to check the extent of his wounds, but Melissa Rutledge was a doctor and her daughter was not. So Sandra pulled him upright to find out who he was.

  She gasped when his pale face came into view. Wyatt Randolph! She stumbled back a step, the depth of the snow checking her movement, as she recognized him. His head hit the steering wheel before she could recover her surprise.

  The junior senator from Pennsylvania’s face had been plastered all over the news for a week. Stories of his disappearance t
opped every newscast. Speculation ranging from him being in a sanitarium to a covert operation in a foreign country had played over different news stations. Sandra knew none of them were true. She was the daughter of a U.S. senator and from her experience most of what was printed or reported had only the semblance of truth to it. He could be anywhere.

  So, what on earth could Wyatt Randolph be doing here? Why was he bleeding? And who had beaten him up? She frowned at the bruises discoloring half of his face. One eye was swollen, with blue veins visible against his pale skin.

  "Damn," she cursed. What would her mother do now? Sandra thought for a moment, then pressed her hand to his throat. She felt a pulse. Her breath came out with relief at the weak but steady thump against her fingers. Stop the bleeding. The thought came from nowhere. She tried to find the source of the blood flow, but his position in the car hindered her. She had to get him back to the cabin. At least there she'd be able to see what she was looking for. Not that she'd know what to do then, but at least they wouldn't freeze to death in the wind. She reinforced her decision by telling herself she couldn't undress him here, with snow flying in her face and the north wind whipping at them. She pulled his legs out of the car and placed his feet on the ground. Polished black shoes sank into the deep snow. He wasn't even properly dressed for this kind of weather, she thought. Where were his parka and boots? Again she wondered what he could be doing up here. The weather forecast called for an additional twenty inches of snow before morning. That would add to the double-digit amount already covering the ground. Any fool would know better than to try these roads in a car without four-wheel drive during a snowstorm.