Two By Four Marriage Therapy

Author's note: Many stories published in Literotica require a good bit of suspension of disbelief in order to be enjoyed. It is incumbent on the author to provide enough 'true' elements so that the plot can has enough plausibility to keep the reader from giving up on it. This is one such story. As always, I hope you enjoy.

"Archer, get me another drink and don't slow walk it."

"Yes, dear" is what he said but what he thought was, "Thank goodness, this may be the last time I ever have to say 'Yes dear' again." He went in to mix her drink of preference. This time, however, he mixed a package of powder he had brought from his pharmacy. After a few stirs, it was done.

"Here Blair." He handed the drink to her. She took a sip and almost spit it out.

"What is this shit?"

"It's your Long Island Tea. I tried to make it just the way you like it. What's wrong with it, dear?"

"There's too much alcohol in it. Your bartender ability to mix drinks is slipping. I guess I should expect that since it seems lately you can't do anything else right either."

"Do you want me to make you another drink with less alcohol?"

"Naw, I'll get used to it. Thanks for nothing."

Blair spent about ten minutes spouting more complaints that Archer had learned to treat as background noise. She was beginning to slur her words. He was now ready to start his grand plan.

"Blair, I have to tell you something and I need you to listen. It will take a while so I would appreciate you not saying anything until I'm done."

"Fuck what you want. I'll say what I . . . "

Archer quickly got in her face. "Blair, if you open your mouth before I'm through, so help me I'll slap your face as hard as I can!" Archer's gentle disposition had disappeared. Blair had never seen him so mad.

His anger did not stop her initially. "I'll say whatever . . . " Archer's hand reared back and Blair closed her mouth. From the look in his eye, she had no doubt he was about to make good on his threat.

"Blair, I've had it with you. What I'm about to do is for your own good although I doubt you will agree. Hell, you haven't agreed with anything I've said in the last few years of our marriage anyway.

"I'm tired of hearing of how it was my fault I didn't wear a condom which resulted in your getting pregnant and us getting married. I'm tired of hearing how you're going to sue the pharmaceutical company one of these days because you had a 'pill' baby. You still haven't seemed to have accepted that you are the mother of two children. And I'm sorry I let you bully me into getting a vasectomy before I was 25 years old.

"What happened to the woman who tried to make the best out of a bad situation? Who was that woman who was glad to see me come home every day. Who was the friend that talked with me and made decisions as an equal partner in our marriage? Who actually said she loved me frequently? Where is she? I don't know. I haven't seen her lately.

"I'm tired of hearing I don't make enough money. I buy some new golf shoes for the first time in ten years and you go ballistic because I'm throwing money away on worrying about getting a stupid small ball into a hole. Somehow you are able to overlook you continue to go to dress shops and buy Petite sized clothes that you haven't been able to wear in over five years. Half the dresses in your closet haven't even been worn.

"I'm tired of hearing what a worthless husband I am. All I do is work all day and then come home to do the chores you don't want to do. I take care of the kids until they go to bed. Then I come down to fetch you drinks and hear the topic of complaint of the night. When we go to bed, you're either too drunk or too tired or just not interested in having sex. Can you even remember the last time we had sex? I can't.

"The kids are not sure that you want to be their mother. When have you helped either of them with their homework? When have you driven them to one of their activities? When have you gone to a parent conference? When have you told them that you are proud of them and that you love them? Do you know that when we get ready to go out to get ice cream or go roller skating, they ask, 'Mom's not going is she? She takes all of the fun out of going out.' Did you ever notice that our kids never want to invite their friends to our house? You know why? They don't want their friends to be yelled out by you for dirty hands or loud laughing or just having a good time.

"I'm sorry that you don't like your job and how underutilized you are given your superior talent over the other people in your office. I'm not sorry enough, however, to keep listening every time how boring your job is. I know you process loan applications for technical errors before you pass them along. If I hear one more time how your boss treats you like he thinks you're only able to play tic-tac-toe while the other staff are smart enough to play chess, I'm ready to stuff real chess pieces in your mouth. Tonight you went on and on for over a half hour about how you ran out of ink in your red ink pad and had to walk all the way to the supply closet which caused you to leave work ten minutes later than normal without any overtime pay."

Archer took a moment to see if the drug was having an effect yet. She seemed a little sleepy but the anger he was generating in her kept her somewhat alert.

"I'm sorry that you hate our house so much. Look around. When we were growing up, neither one of us had half the space or half the technological gadgets and appliances that we enjoy. We are paying off the mortgage ahead of schedule. The kids have their own room and have a backyard to play in where we don't have to worry about their safety. It's only because of your shitty attitude that I consider this a house instead of a home.

He noticed that Blair was about to nod off. Archer delivered the bomb.

"I know about you and Jason Vincent at work. I guess that partially answers why you're not interested in sex with me anymore. By the way, I talked to his wife today and gave her the evidence I had of your and Jason's affair. I thought about divorcing you, but you would come out much better financially than me, especially if you have Jason to help support you. No divorce. I have something different in mind."

He was not sure how much Blair had heard of his last pronouncement. She was unconscious.

*****

THE ASYLUM -- two weeks later

"We have to do it tonight, Uncle Archer. I told you it was dangerous to keep someone sedated so long. I know you're a pharmacist, but it could be life-threatening to continue to sedate her. She may be getting her minimum nutrition from the IV bags, but she's beginning to lose weight."

"I guess I'm ready enough to go ahead tonight. You got everything you need, Jeremy?"

"I think so, Uncle Archer. I sure hope this works. You know we could get sent to jail for this."

"Well, that's why you've got $15,000 of my money on you. Risk -- reward, you know. I told you I promise to take the blame if it goes sour. I'll make up some story about how I blackmailed you."

"I know, Uncle Archer. I will call you when I leave. That's assuming I don't get caught."

Archer got back in his car after helping Jeremy change his wife's clothes to the solid color jumpsuit Jeremy had brought.

"Okay, Aunt Blair" he said to the unconscious body. "We're on the way to your new home."

Jeremy drove himself and his sedated aunt to Farmdale Mental Health Facility where he used to work. He drove up to the front gate guard station and stopped. Jeremy was glad to see a familiar face at the gate.

"Hey Jeremy, who you got there?"

"Hey Amos, it's Ms. Hensley again."

"That's strange. I haven't received a notice that we had an escapee."

"You know how the front office is trying to avoid bad publicity right now after that medication screw up lawsuit. Since she always runs to the same place, we knew where to pick her up. She put up such a fit this time, however, I had to sedate her."

"Okay. Can I see her ID badge?"

"As usual, she tore it off and threw it away somewhere. I'll have to tell the staff to issue her a new one again."

"Where you taking her? Back to her ward?"

"Nah, they want her to go directly to the Danger Ward. She cut Doctor Lopez with some scissors to escape. Although it was barely a scratch, he squealed like a stuck pig."

"Serves that arrogant SOB right." Both men laughed. "I'll call ahead to them know you have a delivery for them."

"Thanks. See ya." Jeremy pulled up to the Serenity Building where the Secure Ward (aka Danger Ward) was and sighed in relief. "One more acting job to pull off."

He went and got a gurney and placed his still sedated aunt on it. He covered as much of her as he could. They went in the door, to the freight elevator and off the elevator to the third floor where the more violent patients were housed. Jeremy pushed the gurney to the nurse's station.

"Hey Jeremy, man, I thought you quit. What are you doing back? Glutton for punishment?"

"Naw, I just changed my mind, Trevor. I guess I just needed a vacation, you know?"

"I hear that. I need a permanent vacation from this place. I don't know if I can stand another 11 years of this shit before I can retire."

"And, if it wasn't for the health insurance, I'd probably not have come back."

"Tru dat." Both men chuckled.

"So, Jeremy, who you got there?"

"This is a new one for you guys. Mary Hensley. She has been on Ward A-3 for several years."

"What earned her a trip to the Danger Zone?"

"She cut Doctor Lopez on her way to escaping."

"I hope she managed to cut his throat, that smug bastard."

"Sorry, only nicked him, but he wants a bronze star besides a purple heart."

"Shit, I got a trunk full of purple hearts. Was damn near killed a couple of times. What did I get? 'Good job, Trevor' and a pat on the back. Man, I'd give anything to put Dr. Lopez in one of the rooms without muscle to back him up. I'd call it a dose of 'Reality Therapy.'"

"As much as I'd like to shoot the shit with you Trevor, where can I put Ms. Hensley?"

"You got the transfer paperwork? I don't have anything on her yet."

"Yeah, I know. Dr. Lopez was acting so much like a baby he hasn't filled it out yet. He ordered me to bring her right away and said he would send the paperwork later. I wasn't about to argue with him after he wrote me up the last time I was 'insubordinate.' Asshole."

"Okay, what about her night meds?"

"Already taken care of. You don't have to worry about giving her anything until morning. Everything should be here by then."

"What do I need to know about her if she wakes up? Is she likely to attack me? Is she a screamer, moaner, or see monsters?"

"Normally, she is not too bad. I think Dr. Lopez finally just pissed her off about something so bad she couldn't take it anymore. Probably his sparkling bedside manner. The biggest thing about her is that she tries to convince people she is someone else. Lately she has been calling herself Blair McKenzie. It's called a Dissociative Disorder. They used to call it Multiple Personalities. Pretty rare. We think she got the name from some women's magazine. Her mind has created this fantasy woman's life and can tell you all about her family and her job. Usually, she screams about not belonging here. She says her husband had her put here and she's not insane. I guarantee she could pass a lie detector test because she absolutely believes it. If someone off the street were to hear her story for the first time, they'd probably fall for it hook, line and sinker."

"I've think I've got another one of those in 309 except she says she's Jacqueline Kennedy. Demands to see the President almost every day. I keep hoping we get a patient who says he's JFK and see what happens between them."

"Room number, Trevor?"

"Let's see. Put her in 344. The mattress is pretty lumpy, but it's clean. I hope she's quiet. That's the room closest to the nurses' station. I need my beauty sleep, you know."

Jeremy took Blair to 344 and laid her in her new bed. "Sorry, Aunt Blair. I hope Uncle Archer knows what he is doing."

Jeremy made it out of the building and through the front gate without any problem. He headed for the airport to fly to the country he had picked, one without an extradition treaty. Jeremy always wanted to travel, and a male nurse could get a job anywhere. He had saved up a good deal of money besides what his Uncle Archer had given him.

The next morning, the effects of the sedative had worn off. Blair struggled to get her bearings. She recognized nothing as she saw she was surrounded by four bare, light green walls. She looked at what she was wearing. "Who put these god-awful clothes on me? Where are my clothes?"

Blair was very frightened. At first, she thought she was dreaming. She had difficulty when she tried to stand up. Her legs were strangely weak. Gradually she explored her new sparse environment in the light from a single light in the middle of the ceiling. Blair tried the door handle and found the door was locked. There was no inside release. When turning and rattling the knob didn't help getting the door open, she became hysterical. Blair started pounding on the door and screaming for help. After a couple of minutes, Trevor's voice from outside the door yelled, "You better quiet down Mary or I'll have to give you something to calm your ass down."

Blair yelled back, "I don't know who you are, and my name is not Mary. My name is Blair and if you don't open this door, I'll put your balls in a smore and give them to a Boy Scout campfire."

The voice laughed back. "That's a good one, Mary. Now behave! That's your one and only warning. Everyone else is trying to sleep."

Blair didn't behave as instructed. Her histrionics were successful in getting the door to her room opened, however, instead of freedom, she was held down by one aide while the other gave her an injection. Blair/Mary was soon back asleep. Trevor complained to himself, "Bitch. I was sound asleep. Now I got a fill out a damned Chemical Restraint Report."

Early the next morning, Chief Psychiatrist, Dr. Esteban Lopez, who had not been cut, was making his rounds in the Secure Ward. As usual, he was trying to go as fast as possible. He wanted to spend as little time with 'these' people as he could and still get credit for billing purposes. His current job as Head of Clinical Services at Farmdale was the best he could get after charges of questionable sexual counseling techniques when he as in private practice. He still had six months to go on his one-year probation. Moving down the hallway, he moved past Room 344 since his log had the room as vacant. The aide from the ward accompanying him told him there was patient in 344 now.

When Dr. Lopez asked who, the aide said "Mary Hensley."

Dr. Lopez probably couldn't tell anyone the name of over ten patients in the whole facility. There were almost 200 total and he did no individual therapy regardless of what it said in the patient's Plan of Care. Mostly, he talked with staff and issued pills based on the staff's evaluation.

"Where is her chart?"

"It hasn't been sent over yet."

"Well, I can't see her without her chart." He continued making rounds.

As the morning went on and Blair/Mary awoke and realized pounding on the door would result in further sedation. Instead, she tried to figure out how she got to whatever this place was. Her husband was the last person she talked to, so he had to know something about what happened even if he didn't do it himself. She was fuzzy about whether or not Archer had said something about Jason. Blair was, however, so sure Archer could not have known about her and Jason that she figured her being in this place had to do with something else.

Had she had some kind of weird reaction to one of her medications that caused her to go crazy? How did she even get to this place? Her reflections caused more questions than they brought any answers. She was scared, scared more than any other time in her life. Blair felt like she was in quicksand and there was a rope just out of her reach.

Trying a different approach, Blair went to the door again and knocked normally. A new staff person's voice was heard in response. Blair/Mary asked, "Can you tell me, where am I and why the door is locked?"

This time a female voice answered, "Mary, you are in the same place you've been for years, Farmdale. You are usually on Ward A-3, but you were moved to his ward for your own safety and the safety of others. We haven't received your chart, your medications or your breakfast yet. Now that you're awake, I'll order your food."

"You said 'ward.' Am I in a hospital?"

"Some people call it a Sanitorium. Actually, it's a Mental Health Facility. I still like the old name: Asylum. It sounds more like a peaceful and relaxing place."

Blair's anger rose quickly at what she was told. "A fucking insane asylum? Who sent me here? My damn husband, I bet. Damn it, I am not insane and quit calling me Mary, you asshole."

"Now, calm down, Mary. What would you rather us to call you, dear?"

"Blair, Blair McKenzie is my name. I live at 4993 Cedar Street. My husband's name is Archer McKenzie. I have two kids. What I don't know is why am I here? I was talking to my husband in our living room last night and suddenly I passed out. Send the police after him. Make him confess."

"We'll get right on that, sweetheart. Meanwhile, would you prefer milk or coffee or juice with your breakfast?"

"What I want is this door to be opened and let me go home!" No response. "Hello? Hello?"

In about 30 minutes there was a knock on outside of her door. "Mary, excuse me, Blair, I need you to back away from the door so we can bring your breakfast in. I'm sorry but it's gotten cold. It was held because you slept late. Okay, I'm bringing it in."

As soon as the door was open and the aide walked in, Blair jumped up off the bed, knocked the tray up, pushed the aide back, and ran through the doorway. She sped halfway down the hall towards the nurse's station where she saw the largest black man she had seen outside of professional football players. He grabbed her up in his powerful arms like she was a paper doll.

"Now, Ms. Hensley, you know better than to do something like that. Are you going back to your room peacefully or does old Luther here need to give you a ride?"

"Fuck you, you black bastard. I'll sue all of you for wrongful detention."

"And I'll sue you for calling me a bastard. My mother and father were married before I was conceived, I'll have you know. Jenny, you better bring me a geri-chair."

Blair was strapped down and given another shot. Once she calmed down, she was wheeled back to Room 344 again. She was in Lala Land by the time she got there. Causing no trouble, she was forgotten for several hours.

By noon, the staff on the Danger Ward were wondering about the still missing paperwork and medications for Mary. They called the Director of Nursing about the medications rather than risk calling Dr. Lopez about the paperwork. The DON checked her records. They showed Mary Hensley had received her medications in Ward A-3 as scheduled. The DON knew better than to believe the record as the aide who filled it out typically checked off all the medication charts before she gave out any medications to save time having to do them individually later. She called the aide in. The aide swore she had given Ms. Hensley her pills. She remembered waking Mary up to do so. And she was in Ward A-3, not the Secure Ward.

On a hunch, the DON called Dietary and asked if Mary Hensley had gotten her breakfast that morning and, if so, where. Dietary said that she wound up sending two breakfasts to Ms. Hensley. One to A-3 and one to the Secure Ward. She had assumed that Ms. Hensley had been moved and that having a meal sent to each ward was done to make sure she received breakfast.