Page 175 of Her Wicked Plan

Even as a ten-year-old boy who wanted the entire world to think he was brave, I was terrified. It was the biggest roller coaster I had ever been on in my short life.

My mother sensed my fear and held my hand the entire time. The comfort of her touch, knowing that she was there experiencing it with me, made the fear slip away.

When we got off the ride, we were laughing and smiling. It was so much fun that I begged us to ride it again, and we did.

When I turned sixteen, they let me choose where to go for the family trip. We went to New York. Not because I wanted to but because my mother wanted to.

I overheard her talking to one of her friends at the library on the phone one day, gushing about seeing the city that never sleeps.

We saw Time Square, which was overrated, smelled like shit, and was crowded. Chloe fought over her fear of heights and went to the top of the Empire State Building with us.

She didn’t, however, go to the edge and look at the view. She nervously told my mother to take a picture so she could enjoy the view that way.

Chloe’s sixteenth birthday came around, and they offered her the chance to choose the trip that year. She was so excited, squealing when they talked about it.

She picked Hawaii because nothing makes Chloe happier than the sun and sand. At first, I was annoyed that she had chosen a place she wanted to go, seeing as I had chosen New York for our mom.

The annoyance soon vanished when Chloe and I were playing with a frisbee on the beach. I glanced at my mom, her eyes shut, her head tilted back, and a closed smile plastered on her face.

It was then that I realized it didn’t matter where Chloe would have chosen to vacation. My mother would have been happy with wherever because she was with her family.

After that trip, we didn’t go on anymore. I became busy with my third year of college, and Chloe was just starting out in her first year. I miss those times, and the hurt from the memories hurts as much as the understanding that it would never happen again.

We were going to take Carter to Disneyland in two years.

It won’t be the same without our mother.

I never made it to my parents this past weekend. An emergency session came up with Ruby. She snapped, and I wasn’t understanding how this happened when she seemed to be doing fine.

It started in the cafeteria. Another girl snatched the sandwich straight from her hands, which pushed her over the edge that I wasn’t aware she was teetering on.

She used the tray as a weapon, slamming it into the patient’s head. Repeatedly. It took two guards to sedate her, and they put her solitary while she slept off the medication.

Once it was out of her system, they brought her to my office, where we talked for more than the allotted time I would normally give a patient. The session led me to discover that this girl who took her food had been pushing her buttons regularly.

She apologized to me for not bringing it up in our sessions. Ruby thought she could handle the situation independently, but then that situation got out of control.

Dr. Bennett needed me to have this immediate session with Ruby. To help dampen the fire on the whole thing. There was sorrow in his eyes, him knowing that I wanted to go home. But I stayed.

I called Chloe to inform her I wouldn’t be coming home. She said it was fine because Mom wouldn’t have been up for much. She was extremely exhausted and slept most of the weekend. It didn’t matter to me if she was tired. I wanted to be there even if it meant I was downstairs and she was in bed. I wanted to be under the same roof as her.

Separating my thoughts from the day for a time later that I would allow myself to sulk in them, I enter the common room to find Ruby. She sits, reading a book as I approach her. The book closes with a snap, and her eyes meet mine.

“It’s stuffy in here. Would you like to have our session outdoors? We could go for a walk.”

Nodding, she stands and places the book on the coffee table. Edith told me about the gardens the patients could walk through under supervision. Of course, guards are patrolling the grounds. I’ve never been out to see it myself, and I need fresh air.

I greet the guard standing at the garden door, who opened the door for us. I’m amazed at what I see. Multiple colors flood my vision. Different types of flowers are scattered in their own squared-off spaces around the area.

Catmints are bundled together to our left, vibrant red cosmos seeds are planted to our right, and blue flax is behind those. I knew these flowers’ names only from the time I spent with my mother in her garden.

She loved to experiment with her garden. Planting different flowers that people normally wouldn’t. We looked through dozens of books, staring at multiple photos of the world's most beautiful flowers.

Without thinking, I take my phone out and take a few pictures. Ruby glances over at me with a quizzical expression.

“My mother loves to garden. These would amaze her,” I tell her, taking more photos as we walk closer to the plants. “I didn’t know this was out here.”

“I’ve been out here a few times when I needed fresh air. I’d rather come out here than the courtyard where every other patient wants to be.”