Saving Mitch Kenyon

By Maelyn Bjork

Meet Tahra Johansson, a pediatric nurse whose engagement comes to a sudden end when her beloved's mother decides she would not 'fit' into the wealthy Blake family. She is left with a two-carat diamond and a house she cannot afford alone. Then there's Mitch Kenyon, a major league baseball player still mour

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bookside Press
• Release date: Mar 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9781778833212

Maelyn Bjork

Maelyn Bjork grew up in Utah, married and taught school in that state. She also lived and worked, in Arizona, California, and Colorado. She has always loved to read and soon the reading gave her ideas and inspired her to write. Once she retired from her teaching position she began to write and it became her passion. She holds a master's degree in foods and nutrition. She and her husband also love to travel especially to cruise. She lives in a suburb of Salt Lake City with her husband and demanding cat named BeBe.

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty- One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty- Five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty- One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-one

Chapter One

When Tahra Johansson walked into her house the phone was practically ringing off the hook. Hold on, I’m coming! She yelled to an inanimate object. She picked it up. Hello?

Tahra, I’m glad you finally answered. I need to see to you tonight.

"Jerry, where are you? Why didn’t you call my cell phone? It was about time her fiancé’ called her. It had been over a week since she had heard from him.

I’m at Salt Lake International. I’m in the process of renting a car. I’ll come by as soon as I can drive up there.

Great, I’ve moved into our new house. I’m so pleased that you can take a look at it before, I do any more decorating. Did you just fly in from San Francisco?

Yes, I have a business appointment tomorrow. However, I very much need to speak with you tonight. He sounded strange so business like, almost ‘cold’.

Jerry, you sound so serious. Are you having a problem setting up the Salt Lake Office of your brokerage firm?

"Well, yes, and no. I’ll talk to you about it when I see you. I’ll try to make to that house within the hour. If I can remember the address? He mumbled. I’ll be ASAP." The line went dead.

Hmmm, why this his strange behavior so close to the wedding.?" Absently, Tahra slid her new engagement ring around her finger. Jerry had given her the two-caret solitaire a little over a month before.

She had barely finished moving into this house. It was the one that she and Jerry had picked out after viewing several. This house seemed to be the only one that both of them liked. Or at least the only one he had disliked that the least. They planned that she would live in it alone, until she and Jerry married in November.

"I’d better change, clean up a little. As she walked down the hall to the master bath, she had already begun to pull off her blue scrub top, her uniform at the hospital. About a half-hour before, she had left the hospital from a normal twelve-hour shift. She was a floor nurse in the Children’s Critical Care Unit at University Hospital.

She decided on a quick shower, and after that applied fresh makeup. Once dressed, she brushed and tamed her long, curly auburn hair, and secured it with a silver clip. She then grabbed her new gray slacks and a peach silk knit blouse from the closet. She always tried to look well dressed and attractive for Jerry. It pleased him to see her dressed in good quality, conservative clothes.

Tea, Jerry loved iced tea. Tahra began assembling a fresh pitcher, and added a can of lemonade. He liked the two mixed together, in a drink called Arnold Palmer Iced Tea. As she placed ice cubes in the jar of lemonade tea the doorbell rang.

She opened the door. Jerry, you made good time. She gave him a wide smile. She pushed open the heavy security door and held it for him to enter. She expected to be swept up in a tight embrace with a long kiss from him, his usual greeting to her. Rather, she received a dry little peck on the cheek, after which he quickly stepped away.

Her stomach clenched, as an uneasy feeling swept over her, but she mentally brushed it aside. She took his arm. That wasn’t much of a kiss. She gave him a smile, but couldn’t understand his frown. Do you want to see the rest of the house, how it looks with my furniture in it? She took his arm and walked down the hallway, and to the first room. Remember, we decided this would be my den, or women’s work room as you call it. The next bedroom she guided him into was empty.

This will be your office. I had Mike put shelves in the closet for your business files.

He barely glanced at the closet. Wordlessly, he allowed her to guide him to the last doorway.

This is the master. I know it doesn’t look complete with my furniture in it, but with our new king-sized bed and the rest of the new bedroom set, it will look much better, more complete You can see that the room is quite a large- - - - - -? With a heavy sigh, Jerry had turned away and walked back into the kitchen.

She quickly followed him into the down the hallway. Something was wrong. Is it that you don’t care for the interior?"

Did you make something for me to drink? He asked, again his face grim.

Yes, I made a pitcher of iced tea. As she poured him the tea, her uneasiness grew, and now she felt hurt, and angry. She felt an unusual foreboding building inside her. This was very strange behavior from Jerry.

He fidgeted, picked up the icy glass and sipped his tea. He paced into the family room section of the kitchen. He toed the oval rug he stood on. This rug, is it new?

Yes, well I bought it at a used furniture store. It was in such good shape, and I love the colors in it. The soft beige, peach, green and blue, and it really blends well with the colors in the sofa. Don’t you think?

It is a nice room. You’ve done a good job decorating it. He said. Do you mind if we go for a walk?

Jerry, what is it? You seem so uneasy, so anxious. Will a walk help?

I’ll be able to explain things better at the park. Come on, let’s go.

They climbed in Jerry’s rental car and drove to a nearby park. In this particular park, they had spent many evenings together during the spring and summer. They took a familiar trail and found a newer steel bench.

Now Jerry, whatever is bothering you, you can share it with me. She had to know what he was so troubled about. Yet she had a gut feeling she wouldn’t like what he was going to tell her.

There’s a glitch in our marriage plans. Jerry jumped up and stood against a tree, and stared down at his feet, not at her.

Tahra’s heart skipped a beat. What do you mean, a glitch? The strong feeling of foreboding had settled in her. Is there a problem with the date? We can move it up a little or move it back. The invitations haven’t yet gone to the printers.

"No, - - - - -well, yes. The hitch is my mother. As you know since my father’s stroke, she’s taken over the family businesses, the properties, the foreign holdings."

"You’re telling me that your family owns more than just brokerage firms in San Francisco, and of course the big house? I suppose you could call it an estate." She closed her eyes, thinking of Jerry’s family home and smiled.

It’s such lovely place, nestled in the hills. Also, you told me that your family owns the condo in Deer Valley. She found herself talking too fast and her breathing became shallow. She put a hand on her chest as if it would slow her heart rate.

Yes, we own those properties, and there are others. Our family, at least my parents, is quite wealthy.

Tahra said nothing. What is he trying to tell me? An uneasy silence developed between them. She rubbed her arms as if she were cold, even though the late September evening was quite warm. Jerry looked down to his shiny black loafers, and took a tissue from his pocket and wiped dust from them. When he stood up his gaze seemed sad.

It’s me, isn’t it? I don’t ‘fit in with the rest of your family. I’m just an average nurse from Utah? A girl whose family members all must work for a living. She wrapped her arms tight and hugged her chest, but managed to meet his eyes.

"I’m so sorry Tahra. It isn’t what you are. It’s what you’re not."

I don’t understand. She gave him a wide-eyed stare, and shook her head,

You’re not from a wealthy Utah family, or as least not from old California stock.

You mean your family expects you to marry a socialite from California, or someone similar? Her voice rose in disbelief.

"I thought you would be okay, and would meet with my mother’s approval. Especially since you and I would be married and living here in Salt Lake. You know, away from her, and their close friends in the city. I convinced her of your virtue, your unblemished character. She was pleased that you are a college graduate, and at one time had been a competitive skier. She does like your looks, your attractive, trim figure.

At first, she felt you could be easily groomed, and dressed to blend in with our friends. Her greatest fear is that you would convince me to spend a hunk of the Blake family money on a ski resort or something equally frivolous."

What? Was she listening to a fairy tale, a twenty-first century Cinderella story? She had assumed his family was up to date in their thinking. Enough, not to be concerned about old family blood lines? A mirthless little laugh escaped her. "What about our feelings for each other? I thought we were in love. We picked out this house together. I bought it with my savings, and the money you gave me for the down payment. I thought you would pick up the house payments when we married. She jumped up and paced in a circle around him. I don’t want to live in this house alone."

I know the house is a problem for you. I already gave you $25,000. That was half the down payment, wasn’t it? What if you keep the engagement ring? It paid over $9,000 for it and that was wholesale. Will that help?

She opened her mouth to fire a vicious retort, but her mind was blank. She could not breathe a word, because - - - - - of what she was hearing. Is there another girl? One your mother has picked out for you?

Well. He dug the toe of his shiny shoe in the dirt near the tree, and then a great sigh came from him. We attended a party last Saturday evening, and I was introduced to a girl that mother seemed to like. She suggested I ask her out. I took the girl to lunch But of course I can’t follow up and begin to date the girl, until I cleared up our situation. He turned and stepped on the trail. Come on, I’ll drive you home.

During the short drive home, Tahra was still trying to wrap her brain about all of these revelations. How could Jerry do this? Since they had met in January, he had pursued her, non-stop. She thought Jerry loved her, and wanted to marry her. She thought she had loved him, but now did she really? Right now, the only emotion she felt toward Jerry was a cold anger.

Jerry smoothly eased the Lexus onto Tahra’s driveway. When she tried to open the passenger door, he put out an arm to stop her. Please believe me. I’m really sorry things didn’t work out for us. I don’t want to hurt you, but sometimes we must accept reality. Please don’t be too upset. You’re an attractive girl. You have a lot going for you. You’ll move on, as I must. I do wish you the best. His words did nothing to soften the ‘sledgehammer’ blow.

As she slid out of the car her anguish turned to hot anger. She gave the passenger door a hefty slam, then put her hands on her hips and yelled. Go back to San Francisco Jerry, and do me a favor. Don’t change your mind. I never want to see you again.

Instead of going into the house by the front door, she changed directions, walked through the yard and opened the kitchen door. She walked to the dog run and let her brown Doberman into the house.

A few minutes later, dressed in running clothes, she emerged from the house with her dog, named Streak. With tears streaming down her face, she began jogging, but soon picked up speed to a run. The young dog easily kept pace with her. Tahra ran until she had no breath left, and her legs had turned to jelly. Bending over she sobbed, while Streak danced around her whining, knowing something was terribly wrong.

At last she straightened, she squared her shoulders, grabbed Streak’s leash, and slowly walked home. After another shower, she found a nightgown she had purchased for her honeymoon and slid it on. Still blinded by tears, she sat on the floor, and leaned against a new, blue overstuffed chair. Absently, she sat and caressed the oval rug. Streak curled up beside her, as if to comfort her. Slowly, with no tears left, she stopped crying and hiccupped She sat staring at nothing, finding no solace in the darkened room. Sometime during the early morning hours, she laid her head on the rug and fell asleep.

Chapter Two

Seven months later, New York City

The old yellow, New York City taxicab made its way through the usual Mid-town traffic. The destination: an uptown address of a steel and glass high rise on the Upper East Side. From the fifth to the twenty-ninth floors housed it some of the most expensive dwellings in the whole city.

The cabbie jumped out of his vehicle and hurried around to open the rear door. Exiting the back seat was a tall, broad-shouldered man. The afternoon sun caught a gleam of gold in his hair.

The cabbie went to the trunk of the automobile, opened it and asked. Which bags are yours, sir?

The navy and red one and just call me Mitch.

The driver pulled a large red and blue duffle bag and set it on the sidewalk. Mitch handed him a generous tip. Oh thank you Mr. Kenyon I’m looking forward to going to Halley Stadium when the season begins and watch you pitch.

The doorman of the building hurried out to the sidewalk and picked up Mitch’s duffle bag and carried it into the building.

Mitch turned back to the two other men in the cab. I’ll see you guys on Monday. Take it easy. Don’t close down to many nightclubs and bars this weekend.

The younger man grinned. Mitch, if I had a pretty actress/ wife to come home to, I wouldn’t go near a bar. The rookie ball player teased.

Mitch rubbed a hand over his face, as if to rub away the fatigue from his body and pain from his mind. Yeah, she’s back to work on the new season. I’m sure she’s been putting in long days. He closed the rear of the cab and tapped the roof. The cab driver nodded and steered the vehicle into the traffic.

The doorman opened the tall steel and glass door for Mitch to enter the spacious lobby. His custom-made dress shoes echoed across the marble floor to the elevator. The doorman held the elevator and set Mitch’s bag inside. How was spring training? Mr. Kenyon?

It was hot in Florida, but in general, training went well. I’ll get you some tickets. See you later, William.

The elevator took him to the 29th floor. Since there were only four penthouses on that floor, It was a short walk to his front door. He searched his jacket pocket and found his keys. As he opened the door, the whine of a vacuum assaulted his ears. The sound came from upstairs. Mitch set down his duffle near the wide winding stairway and strolled into the living room. This room more than any of the other rooms in the pricy condo, grabbed his attention. He remembered the first time he ever set foot in this room. A wall of windows facing north and east went from a foot or so from the floor to near the twenty-foot ceiling. He was mesmerized by the magnificent view.

Sheer beige curtains were drawn, but Mitch knew the view by heart. It was of Central Park and the East River. Wealthy New Yorkers paid millions for a view like this. That’s what Deidre had paid for this apartment, millions.

Mitch walked through the spacious dining room and passed the table with its gleaming black surface and twelve matching chairs. Through a swinging door he moved into the high-tech kitchen. Every appliance known to man could be found in the white cabinets or on its speckled gray solid surface. He wondered if he would find any food in this room. Deidra didn’t cook, and she never shopped for groceries. If there was any food in this gleaming kitchen, it was because there would be a dinner party, or she would send Ingrid out to do some shopping.

Mitch searched the refrigerator and found a bottle of catsup, coffee cream, and a diet soda. There were coffee pods in the cupboard, and a Kuerig coffee machine sat on the counter. But other than a promise of fresh coffee, he would have gone out or order food in. He stomped out and took the curved stairway up two at the time. He would shower and go out for a late lunch.

At the top of the stairs, he passed his office. The next door, the nursery door was closed. As he stood in front of that door, sorrow and pain clutched his heart. The nursery had been his beautiful baby daughter’s room. She had lived in it barely a year. It was nearly three months since her funeral. On a frigid snowy afternoon, they had lowered the little white casket in the cold, hard, winter ground. Tears clogged his throat, and he shook his head in pain.

Now his beautiful daughter, Michaela dwelt as a tiny angel in heaven. She had left a hole in his heart he wanted to shove his fist through. Being away for seven weeks at spring training, he thought would ease the pain. But standing here only brought fresh grief. However, He must continue to deal with his grief the best he could.

Half-an-hour later he walked out of the master suite, showered and in clean clothes. Again, he passed the closed nursery door. This time he opened the door. There was nothing left of Michaela in the empty room? For a moment he stood remembering a giggling little girl standing up in her crib as he played peek-a-boo with her.

As Mitch studied the empty room, he felt shock then anger. Everything was gone: the white crib, the matching rocking chair, a basket full of toys. Not even the border print around the top of the walls remained: Whimsical drawings of little girls enjoying a picnic. The warm toned beige and pink border print was gone and room had been painted a light gray.

Mitch strode across the room and threw open the closet door. Again empty. Nothing left of his precious little girl. It was if she had never existed. Anger drove him down the stairs. Ingrid! Ingrid where are you? He yelled. Even over the roar of the vacuum. She must have heard him, because the house was suddenly quiet.

Oh, you’re home sir. What is it Mr. Kenyon? She looked up at her employer, as seemed to cringe as he approached her. Is there anything you need?

Where’s Deidra? Where’s my wife?

Well sir, there is a cast party. She say she be pretty late. She not expect you ‘til tomorrow.

What happened to Michaela’s things? What did Deidra do with them? Mitch growled.

The baby’s things? Oh, I sorry about the little girl. She was sweet baby. Ingrid frowned, looked down at the floor, shaking her head.

Where are they? His face felt tight, like a mask of anger.

Ms. Neisson, I mean your wife. She give to charity. A man, Sasha, he came and took them last week.

Everything? Even her favorite bear?

No, remember. Hospital burn it, because of bad germs.

Mitch ran his heads through his still damp hair: As that act would help to clear his mind. Now he remembered. The bear had been full of the virus. A strange virus something new. One, that took the CDC nearly two days to identify. Michaela had held on to that bear until she closed her eyes. And even with the ventilator breathing for her, she never opened them again.

Ingrid stared at Mitch. Is there anything I can do or get for you, Mr. Kenyon?

No nothing. Mitch sighed and walked back up to his den. At least Deidra had not disturbed this room. There was a sizable stack of mail on his big cherry wood desk. He would go through it later. He paced by the window, and gazed down at the busy Manhattan Street below. His thoughts still filled his mind with his loss of his precious Michaela. Returning to this condo, the place where he and Deidra had lived less than a year before Michaela was born. Then a little more than year a later and his precious baby was no more. Though all her physical items were gone, the place seemed to echo her vibrant little spirit. He wondered if he could even live here anymore.

Right then his empty stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten for several hours. He glanced again down at the busy street below and remembered a little Italian Restaurant just around the corner, and up the street half a block. He left his den and took the stairs down to the front door at a good clip. He left Deidra’s high rise, luxury condo.

A few minutes later he was seated at a small table, and had ordered a pasta dish and a glass of red wine. He ate and drank without thinking. But, as he strolled back to the high rise, he became aware of a fresh spring breeze. The leaves were budding out on the trees. Looking at them lifted Mitch’s mood. He remembered he had returned to New York, and had many obligations waiting on his desk, Obligations to his team and the owners and even to Deidra.

When he walked into the penthouse it was quiet. He returned and began to sort through the mail. He separated the bills from the other envelopes and began paying them online. A few hours later his head ached and his eyes burned. He closed his eyes for a moment and nearly fell sleep. His well used leather couch looked inviting. He found the knitted throw his mother had sent them when he and Deidra had married. He lay down and fell asleep.

Much later he woke with a start. He glanced at the desk clock it was well after eleven p.m. He grabbed his tooth brush and comb from his duffle bag, and went up to the master suite. Deidra had not yet returned home. He pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms from a drawer and decided to go to bed.

He woke about two hours later. Deidra still had no returned. He called her studio line, but no one answered. As he slid out bed, he heard the front door open and then slam closed. He went to the top of the stairs and watched his wife teeter unsteadily into the living room. She turned and her four-inch heels made a clicking sound on the marble floor. Mitch watched for a moment, but then decided she needed help. He ran down the stairs and managed to reach her. She had staggered up two steps, but then caught her brocade evening coat under her foot. He grabbed her just as she twisted and fell back.

She blinked her eyes. Oh Mitch, you frightened me. She