Sweet Dreams (3 page)

After he shaved, Mark went into his bedroom to grab a pair of shorts. "Much better," he sighed. "Nothing like a comfortable pair of shorts."

Looking in the freezer, he grabbed a microwave dinner

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and threw it in on high. He turned the package over and saw that this dinner offered a tasty slab of chicken with mashed potatoes and a brownie to boot!

"K would be proud," he chuckled, as the food started to cook. "A microwave dinner and a soda?" He knew what she would say.

"Not Healthy!"
He could see her face frowning playfully as the smell of fake chicken filled the kitchen. However, he was too tired to cook tonight. "Ding." Grabbing a fork out of the first drawer to the left of the sink, he sat down on the leather couch and started to eat.

"Not bad, for a TV dinner," he said, in-between bites. Not like K's cooking, though, not much like anybody's cooking he supposed.

Now that he was on the subject he couldn't help but think about K and his daughter Samantha. It had been three years since...he shook his head and tried to shake the thought from his head.

"Wow, Three years. Time flies," he thought as he stared off into space.

Finishing his meal, he got up and threw the dishes in the sink, on most nights he would wash and dry all the dishes but he was celebrating, he was done with the mission and that meant only one thing.

Vacation.

Mark wandered into the bedroom and crawled into his king-sized bed. Hitting off the alarm clock--he was going to sleep in and it would be a nice change from the all-nighters he was getting used too. He closed his eyes and pulled the covers up around his chin, no matter how hot it was outside, he had to be under the covers.

Once he had breathed in deep and let it all out in a big long sigh, he began to relax his legs and arms. His eyes were getting heavy and now he knew no matter what they were going to come. The thoughts of his family and they would consume his mind until he fell asleep. This took from one to two hours most nights but tonight he had a feeling he would fall asleep right away. He wished he could see K and her sparkling hazel eyes and the smile she used to only let him see. Then there was little Samantha with her cute pigtails bobbing as she ran down the steps to meet him. The workday was all worth it just to see her and feel her tiny arms hugging him and the way she smelled. He remembered, she smelled like soap and lavender, he didn't know why but she did no matter how dirty she was or how long it had been in-between baths. Now it seemed like it was just yesterday he was home holding K in his arms, he hated to go to bed alone, so alone.

Three years earlier...

Chapter Two

THE CLOCK ON THE WALL READ ONE O'CLOCK.
IT

seemed like it wasn't even moving or that it was beginning to go backwards. Mark sat at his desk with his dark blue eyes staring intently at his computer, trying not to look at the clock, which seemed to mock him with its incessant
tick tock
.

"Mark! I need that file on the Hoffman project. I've got a meeting in one hour with Mr. Hoffman himself to go over any changes he might want to make before we move on." Hank leaned in the doorway, looking at Mark. "Oh, and could you run me another set of blueprints, just in case?"

"No problem. The blueprints are printing as we speak. And I'll clean up the file and get it to you in five." Mark clicked the mouse a few times, as he rose from his desk, and then he headed down to the print room.

"Thanks, man," Hank said over his shoulder.

Hank Douglas was a man of speed. Not only was he quick-witted, but it seemed like he even talked on the run. If he was talking to an employee, he was walking or leaning over a desk or the elevator door was closing just as he put in a few more remarks.

Hank was the CEO of Synergy Engineering and Design, one of the top five engineering firms in the country. They designed multi-million dollar homes for celebrities like Hannah Montana to a quaint vacation home in Sun Valley Idaho for Tom Cruse to the tune of twenty-eight million. It was a small price to pay for a good room when you were on vacation. The division not a part of Mark's world handled the commercial side where they were responsible for buildings like Trump Towers Asia and the beautiful yet urban casino
Parchment
in Las Vegas. Everything was run out of the Douglas building in downtown New York on Broadway across the street from the Marine Midland Building. It was twenty-five stories of glass and stone jutting from the earth in what one would say was impossible construction. Twisting metal mixed with stone made the building look like something from a sci-fi movie. The top of the skyscraper donned a beautiful garden with pine trees standing thirty feet tall casting long shadows over the pond that sat in the west corner. The park was open to the public and most of the employees enjoyed taking walks on their lunch break down the winding path that curved its way around making a loop through the whole park. In the summer months, a family of mallards found their way back each year and got nice and fat from all the free food that just happened to be everywhere.

Mark Appleton was in charge of the Residential Depart-

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ment where they designed houses, from basic design to landscaping and interior design. Mark was the chief engineer with five other designers under him. The company employed almost a thousand people and was on its way to being one of the most sought-after firms in the nation.

Mark grew up in the small town of Canon City, Colorado. It was an old mining town that after the gold ran out became a sort of tourist town with a railroad offering scenic tours and impressive gorges, long bridges and whitewater rafting. The population was only fifteen thousand and moving to New York after growing up in a small town was a bit of a shock to Mark's system. Nevertheless, he managed and now loved the city and even looked past its ugly spots and ever-growing cancer. After high school, Canyon City High home of the fighting tigers, he went off to Harvard school of engineering and applied science to study civil engineering. After graduation, he was picked up as an intern with S.E.D. thanks to professor Greenheart who had taken a liking to Mark and knew Hank's family. Sometimes it is really who you and not what you know. Ten years later he was in upper management and according to Hank
"a mover and a shaker son, one of the best
and get that file on my desk like yesterday and..."
the elevator door closes and the rest is lost with the slam of the metal doors.

After a year with S.E.D., Mark met his wife, K. She was an art teacher in a local high school and loved kids more then anything in the world--that is until she met Mark. They met at City Baptist one Sunday, which is where Mark was going every Sunday. He liked to go and get his mind and heart right. It was something he had grown up doing and something about it had a lasting impact on him. K walked in, the light from the morning sun hit her back, Mark turned, and like a ray from heaven, he saw an angel. Now he never believed in love at first site so he called it like at first site. She was everything he had ever dreamed and more.

K was beautiful, and not just to Mark, but to any redblooded American. She had long, blond hair that was naturally curly and hazel eyes that changed to a fire green when she was ticked! Mark liked to get her all good and mad every now and again just so he could see the fire in her eyes. Her skin was fair and smooth like fresh milk. She gave him a look and just like her, she went and sat down in the pew right in front of him. Needless to say he didn't hear a thing that was said across the pulpit that morning and afterward in the parking lot he stumbled over himself and asked her out. Sometimes miracles do happen.

After dating for a year, with a few maddening fights that ended with those fiery green eyes they were married beneath the shadow of the Rocky Mountains back in his hometown. It was a beautiful wedding with the fall leaves blazing with color, red and orange covering the ground where they stood gazing into each others eyes and souls. The lake behind his parents house looked like glass and seemed to smile with approval as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. After a ten-day honeymoon, they bought a little house in upstate New York, it was the all-American house with a small yard and a big old oak tree in the back, and a porch swing painted white in the front. "It's perfect," she said as he pulled off his hands from her eyes. He loved to surprise her and this

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one took some doing. He had signed the papers before leaving for Colorado, hoped, and prayed it would be what she wanted. Not exactly, a purchase you can just take back and get a refund. Mark breathed in a silent sigh of relief when he saw her reaction.

Samantha was born a year and a half later. She was everything they hoped for in a daughter, with her mom's smile and her daddy's dark blue eyes. She thought she was sixteen and was more independent than her own good when it came to doing things for herself. "I can do it!" was a common phrase in the Appleton household.

It all seemed like it was just yesterday that he first saw K

sitting in that little church pew, and now tonight was their fiveyear anniversary. Mark turned and looked out the window of his office and noticed the throng of people that filled the sidewalk down below.

"Reservations," Mark said to himself, "Check." He had made them a month ago at an exclusive restaurant called
The
Leaf
. It was going to be a great night. Samantha would be at the sitter's overnight, and Mark would be showing K around the honeymoon suite at the Hilton Garden Inn if everything went according to plan.

Mark was glad for a project and with his mind busy, he wouldn't be thinking about what tonight would be like. The clock still mocked him and there was something about Friday's, time seemed to always go by so slow. No matter how hard he tried his mind was not on work today, all he could think about was the evening to follow, and K.

He hurried, grabbing the blueprints as they came off the plotter. His eyebrows furrowed down as he impatiently waited for the printer to finish the last one.
Finally!
He folded the last one, and after a few minutes of arranging the completed file, started down the hall to a big corner office that was at the far end of the building.

Mark hit the gym at least four days a week after work. His five-foot-eleven frame was strong and solid. He was an easygoing guy who always enjoyed a joke. Most of the time he was the one telling it and if no one thought it was funny, he would keep going till he could get someone to laugh. He ran his hand through his short blond hair and looked into each office as he walked. He was an observant man and had a bad habit of looking over his shoulder for no reason al all.
To
many spy novels,
K would say, thinking he was some sort of James Bond or something.

"Hi, Mark. Big night tonight?" the receptionist said as she put a pencil in her hair.

"Yeah. I am going to get out of here after I get this file to Hank. Oh, did you..."

"Yup, I called the flower shop after lunch and made sure that K got them. Don't worry!" she said before he could finish his sentence. "Oh, and the delivery guy said she cried and cried because she wanted
chocolate
, not flowers." Her eyes rolled back in her head as she giggled.

Mark threw a paper clip at her as he walked off chuckling. She ducked out of the way just as the phone rang. "Synergy Engineering. How may I help you?"

After Mark dropped off the file and prints in Hanks office, he took a short cut through the break room to his office. He quickly cleaned up his desk, making sure everything was in place, pencil holder on the left. Picture of Sam and K next to

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his PC and everything else had to be in a drawer in its particular holder or folder.
Was he a little OCD?
Maybe, but to Mark everything in his office and in his life for that matter had a place. Why not put it there and at the end of each day, he did just that. "I'm out of here!" Throwing his keys up in the air and catching them, he gave Bert, one of his designers, a smirk on his way to the elevator, and then laughed out loud.

"You be good tonight," Bert said. "Big brother is watching you," he joked as he looked up from a set of plans.

"Have a good weekend, Bert. I know I will." Mark walked into the cherry wood lined elevator and pushed the button to the parking garage.

"Ding." The elevator door closed just as Bert started to respond. Mark laughed, "I just pulled a Hank!"

Mark Pulled from the parking garage onto Broadway and missed a bright yellow cab who thought this was a racetrack rather then a clogged city street. He flipped on the radio and wanted to catch the traffic report even though he knew what it would be, bumper to bumper all the way home, a tangled mess of metal, cell phones and everyone paying attention to everything but their driving. The radio crackled and a firm commanding voice came on from the much practiced radio announcers voice. "Cindy Winters is reporting live from David's Island Correction Facility where we have a breaking story unfolding. We go live now to reporter Cindy Winters, Cindy, can you tell us a little bit about what is going on out there?"

"Well, Tom, the prison alarms are sounding, and I am looking at about fifteen fire trucks. I've been told that every paramedic within the surrounding areas has been called to the prison!"

Mark was jammed up on the expressway, trying to decide if he wanted to change lanes or just wait it out like everyone else. He turned up the radio and waved at an angry woman with a little white dog sitting on her lap. She waved back but only with one finger,
so good-natured New Yorkers were.
K

liked to call them Yorkers but Mark had his own pet names for them. The news story went on and Mark half listened.
Was
there a prison break or maybe a riot?
That sort of thing happened more then anyone wanted to think, but from the sounds of it, it didn't sound like a riot.