Shark Out of Water

by DelSheree Gladden

  Pushing out of his office and down the hall, he barely stopped to tell Christine he needed to step out. He was on the elevator, riding down floor after floor before he even considered where he was going. When the elevator doors opened to the cafeteria, he stepped out with relief.

  When Guy first started working at the hospital, he had been on the night shift. The cafeteria staff grew to know him quickly as he was in constant need of caffeine, preferably in the form of coffee. He frequented the cafeteria less often on the day shift, but as he walked in, it was comforting to see that they still remembered him.

  “Bonjour, Dr. Guy. It’s been too long since you’ve been down to see us,” one of the women behind the counter said. Guy did not recognize the second woman behind the counter, but he knew this charming woman very well.

  “Bounjour, Samantha.” She beamed at him, obviously pleased he remembered her name. “I apologize for being, what is the phrase? M…I…?”

  Samantha chuckled, making her middle-aged features light up. “M.I.A., Dr. Guy. Missing in action.” She shook her head at him. She probably guessed he was familiar with the phrase, but likely also guessed that he enjoyed letting her correct him. “I thought you’d jumped ship for the Starbucks down the street.”

  “Moi? I would never!” Guy said with mock astonishment. “How could you think I would step out on my favorite ladies? Your coffee is wonderful.”

  The second woman Guy did not know rolled her eyes, but smiled at his compliment. Samantha only chuckled as she handed over his French roast. “Enjoy your coffee, Dr. Guy, and I hope we’ll see you more often.”

  “Merci. I will be back soon.”

  Guy turned, the ache in his chest lightened somewhat by Samantha’s kindness. He was intent on heading straight back up to his office, but as he turned around, he was stopped by an unexpected sight.

  “Dr. Saint Laurent,” Charlotte said. Her smile was genuine, but tired. “How are you?”

  “I am well. How are you doing, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte blinked, clearly surprised he had remembered her name. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

  She stepped toward the counter to place her order. It was likely a sign that the conversation was over, but Guy did not walk away. He had been seeing her phantoms for the past week. Now that he finally had her in his sights, and not a mistaken image, he was unwilling to let her get away. She said nothing when he waited for her to order, but turned around to face him afterward, as if she knew he would have waited.

  “Are you on a break?” Charlotte asked.

  “Oui. I needed to open my mind,” he said.

  Charlotte frowned a little. “You mean, clear your head?”

  Laughing, Guy nodded. “I apologize. American phrases are still difficult, even after so long.”

  Their conversation was interrupted briefly by Samantha handing Charlotte her smoothie and muffin. She was perfectly polite to Charlotte, but when she turned away, Samantha’s eyes snapped over to Guy. She grinned and nodded in Charlotte’s direction.

  Eager to be out from under Samantha’s eye, Guy gestured to a table on the far side of the cafeteria. Charlotte hesitated, making Guy backpedal. “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude. I am sure you have somewhere to be.”

  He took a step back, but Charlotte reached out quickly, touching his arm for just a moment before pulling it back as if embarrassed. “No, you’re not keeping me from anything. I just…don’t you need to get back?”

  “Not for a while yet. My nurses are very good to me. It has been a difficult few days and they understand this.” He shook his head. “They are probably glad to see me gone at this point. I have not been very pleasant today.”

  Charlotte cocked her head to one side. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I was very rude toward Kit.”

  “Kit?” Charlotte asked.

  “Katheryn, one of the nurses. Kit is a nickname.”

  Charlotte broke off a piece of her muffin and toyed with it before finally putting it into her mouth. Guy watched her lips more closely than necessary as she ate the morsel. “Did Kit do something wrong?” Charlotte asked a few seconds later, pulling Guy’s attention back to the conversation.

  “No, she did nothing to deserve my bad behavior. I should not have come to work today, but I did not want to stay at home, either.”

  “Why not?” Charlotte asked. It made Guy curious that she was not deterred by the personal nature of her questions. She asked without fear.

  “Mauvais souvenirs et les nuits blanches,” Guy said, more to himself than Charlotte.

  When he looked up, Charlotte watched him carefully, curious, but this time did not ask. It was as if she instinctively knew which questions would cut too close to the core and which were safe. It was an instinct Guy had tried to develop through medical school and his residency in psychiatry, but had never fully mastered. With Charlotte, it seemed natural, and it spurred him to answer her unspoken question, translating his earlier response.

  “Bad memories and sleepless nights.” He scrubbed one hand through his hair as the ache in the center of his chest returned. “One of my patients died yesterday. It affected me badly and I have been a boar to everyone today.”

  “Dr. Saint Laurent, I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said. Her hand twitched, as though it wanted to move, but she held it back.

  “Please, you may call me Guy.” He thought about his words, and then realized he had never asked permission to be so familiar with her. Chiding himself, he said, “I forget myself. I should not have addressed you as Charlotte without asking, Ms. Brooks. I have no manners today, I fear.”

  Her laugh filled the space around them, for a small moment, making the pain Guy carried seem lighter. She looked back at him with a smile. “You can call me Charlotte. I don’t mind at all.” She laughed again and shook her head. “I thought all French men were supposed to be arrogant and womanizing.”

  “I guess I am just off my game today,” Guy said with a smile. “Did I get that phrase correct at least?”

  “Yes,” Charlotte laughed, “exactly right.”

  Guy was surprised by how much he enjoyed her laugh. He could tell by the way she carried herself that she was tired, worn out even, but she held onto her optimism and kept her heart light. That was not an easy thing to do. He was failing quite badly at that, in fact. Even as he thought about it, his mood darkened and he had a difficult time keeping it from slipping into his expression.

  “Guy, I’m sorry about your patient. It sounds like you were close.”

  “Oui, I had been working with her since my first year at university.” When Charlotte seemed confused by that statement, Guy tried to clarify. “I worked at a crisis center during that time. It helped me gain experience and opened my eyes to those who lived difficult lives. She was troubled even then, but she kept coming back and I kept trying to help her.”

  “How did she die?” Charlotte asked. Her soft words comforted him unexpectedly.

  “Suicide.”

  He could hear Charlotte’s breathing stop. For a fraction of a second there was no sound in their little bubble, only that one held breath and Guy’s hope that whatever she said next would somehow ease some of his pain.

  “The guilt is natural,” Charlotte said quietly. “Undeserved, I’m sure, but something everyone feels when they lose someone close to them.”

  Looking up, Guy stared at her.

  “You’ve never lost someone before, have you?” she asked.

  He could only shake his head.

  “I know I don’t know you, Guy, but this burden is easier to bear if you share it. Trust me.”

  It took a long time for Guy to find his voice again after that. “You have lost someone you loved?”

  Charlotte nodded. “My husband.”

  She offered no other details, and Guy did not ask. The pain etched into her features was clear enough to tell Guy it was not a conversation she wanted to have. He respected that and simply said, “Merci, Charlotte,
for listening.”

  “Any time, Guy.” She smiled, then, and Guy was surprised to realize she meant it.

  The buzzing of his phone in his pocket reminded him that he did indeed have to return to work at some point. He was reluctant to face Kit and Christine, but he knew it had to be done. Regret lingered as Guy pushed his chair back and stood. He offered his hand to Charlotte, which she took with mild surprise. She smiled when he helped her to her feet.

  At this point after meeting a woman, Guy would brazenly ask her out, or for her phone number at least. He wanted to see Charlotte again, but his usual boisterous nature was subdued. Instead of being forward, Guy only said, “I hope I run into you again, Charlotte. I enjoyed speaking with you very much.”

  “I enjoyed it as well.” She smiled and shook his hand. “I’m here fairly often, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”

  Charlotte walked away, toward the main exit, which Guy found strange. He shook it off and turned back toward the counter to refill his coffee. Samantha was eyeing him curiously when he approached. “I have seen you flirt with many women, Dr. Guy. You must be slipping. That was entirely too somber.”

  “I am glad to know you’re keeping watch,” Guy said.

  Samantha handed him his cup. “She seems like a very nice woman.”

  “And?”

  Shrugging, Samantha said, “Nothing. It was just an observation.”

  Guy was shaking his head as he thanked her and headed toward the elevator. His chat with Charlotte was definitely not common, but for some reason, that did not bother him. He had simply not been in the mood for flirting and casualness.

  Buzzing from his phone reminded him of his harsh words to Vance earlier. He sighed, knowing he had another apology to make. This one would not be so easy. Vance would not let him off without a few stern words. His apology would be accompanied by a formal session, one filled with questions about Patricia. Guy was not sure he would be able to face such a thing yet, but Charlotte’s words echoed in his mind. Plus facile si elle est partagée. The burden was easier if shared.

  Chapter 7

  Famille

  Guy sat in his car for a long time, not sure he was ready to go in. It was an odd feeling. He had dinner with Carmody and her family at least once a week, often several times a week if his schedule allowed. This time felt different for some reason. Too much had happened during the week for it to be a normal visit. Carmody had been texting him nearly as much as Vance and Leo the last few days. If Vance had not decided to keep what had happened from Eli and Leila until they returned from their honeymoon in Fiji¸ he would have had their concern hounding him as well.

  When Guy called Vance to apologize for being such a brute, he had wanted him to come in to talk right away. Guy knew he needed a few days to process everything first. He was meant to meet with Vance in the morning, on his first day off all week. That was part of what made him so anxious, but so was the fact that every time he had run into Charlotte at the hospital cafeteria that week, he became more concerned about her. She always seemed so exhausted when they talked, and he worried she was not feeling well.

  A knock on the passenger’s window startled Guy out of his thoughts. Carmody gestured for him to roll down the window, and Guy complied. “Are you coming in some time tonight? Michael and Lily are starving.”

  “Oui, I am sorry. I did not mean to make everyone wait.”

  Guy stepped out of his car and walked around to meet Carmody. He was relieved when she did not ask him how he was doing. Instead, she started talking about the new French words Lily was learning and their playgroup, which included some rather opinionated mothers. By the time they reached the front door, the ordinary feeling Guy had been searching for began to make an appearance.

  “Guy! You made it,” Michael said enthusiastically. He clapped Guy on the back and led him toward the kitchen. The smells of blanquette de veau permeating from the kitchen instantly made Guy homesick. Michael was a wonderful chef, and he knew French cuisine well. He also knew veal ragoût was Guy’s favorite.

  “Guy! Guy! Guy! Guy!” Lily squealed as she sped through the hallway and crashed into Guy’s leg. He did not understand how she kept from injuring herself, but she only giggled and grinned as he picked her up and threw her in the air several times. Her petite three-year-old body weighed little and it lifted Guy’s mood to see her so happy.

  “Guy,” Lily said when he finally stopped tossing her up and down, “Daddy made chocolate pie!”

  Clearly thrilled with her announcement and expecting a reaction, Guy was more than happy to give her one. “Chocolate pie?” he exclaimed. “How did you know I love chocolate pie? C’est mon préféré!”

  “Mon préféré, aussi!” Lily shouted with a better French accent than her mother. Guy marveled at how quickly the girl absorbed the words he taught her. It was usually only a few words here and there on each visit, but she loved learning his silly words, as she liked to call them. She would easily pass her mother by with hardly any effort at all.

  “Before pie, we must eat our dinner,” Michael said, to both Guy and his daughter. “Are we ready?”

  “Oui, oui,” Guy said, knowing it would make Lily laugh. He grinned when she began giggling hysterically, even though it made Carmody roll her eyes at him for encouraging such behavior.

  After getting Lily calmed down, they took their seats at the table. Guy sat next to Lily, even though there was a seat across from her that kept him out of the line of dropped and spilled food. Inevitably getting covered in some portion of her dinner was worth the delight of sitting next to Lily and her infallible happiness.

  “Michael, this is amazing, as always.” He savored another bite, thinking of his family and his impending trip back to see them.

  “I thought you could probably use a bit of home after everything that’s happened this last week.”

  “Merci. I did need this.”

  “Aren’t you going back to France soon?” Carmody asked.

  Guy nodded. “Sabine and I will both be flying home in another week. It is my parents’ wedding anniversary.” Sighing at the thought of the festivities that would entail, suddenly, going to see his parents sounded much less appealing.

  The conversation turned, Michael asking Guy about France, French food, French wines, and where the best places to stay were. Guy soon realized the anniversary trip Carmody had mentioned was being planned for France.

  “Why did you not just tell me you are going to France? If you tell me what you want to see, I can give you recommendations on where to stay and eat.”

  Carmody shrugged him off. “You’ve had other things to deal with. We’re capable of planning our own trip.”

  Guy laughed as Michael shook his head in the background. “We don’t even know where to start, and I don’t want to have to rely on Carmody’s French to get us places.”

  Scowling at her husband, Carmody’s expression lightened a moment later. She knew her French was not the best. “Anyway, we don’t want to just do the regular touristy things. Michael wants to tour a few vineyards, and of course he wants to know where to get the best food. I want to see at least some of the usual sights and museums, though.”

  “Make me a list,” Guy said, “I will take care of it.”

  Michael nodded as though it sounded perfectly fine to him, while Carmody shook her head. “Guy, you don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s not a problem. I am happy to do it. It will take my mind off everything.” When Carmody still seemed unsure, Guy added, “Please, Carmody. It would be good for me.”

  After a few moments to consider, she finally acquiesced. “Fine, but you must promise to stay within our budget.”

  Guy nodded happily. Soon after, Michael brought out the chocolate pie Lily had been so excited for. As Guy expected, it was French silk, and just as perfectly executed as the main meal. He enjoyed it immensely, though he had to admit it was not wise to sit next to Lily when there was chocolate pie involved. She not only ended up with i
t all down her front, but on Guy’s shirt sleeve as well.

  “Guy! Guy! Night-night time! Story! Story!” Lily cried once she was cleaned of her dessert mess.

  Carmody looked over at him, chagrined, yet hopeful. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. You know I am happy to tuck Miss Lily into her bed.”

  Handing her over, Carmody planted a sloppy kiss on her daughter’s cheek, making her giggle, then went to help Michael with the dishes. Lily focused all her attention on Guy, talking the entire way down the hall to the bathroom. She even talked through brushing her teeth. About what, Guy had no idea, but he nodded every so often and enjoyed her happy prattle. By the time she was in her pajamas and nestled under her blankets, she was yawning.

  “Uh-oh,” Guy said, “you are too tired for a story. I should go home.”

  “No!” Lily whined. “Story! Please!” Her bottom lip stuck out in an expert show of adorable begging.

  Guy pretended to consider her request carefully. “I suppose I can read you one story, but you must not fall asleep.”

  Lily nodded eagerly. “Uh-uh. I big girl.”

  “Okay, but no sleeping,” Guy warned. “Scoot over, ma petite fille.”

  Lily moved over, though no amount of scooting would ever make enough room for Guy on the toddler bed. To overcome this problem, Lily simply crawled into Guy’s lap with her fluffy little lamb and pulled her blanket over both of them. She was nestled comfortably against his chest a moment later, eager for her story.

  Pulling out one of her favorites from her nightstand shelf, Guy read until she was breathing heavily. Even after he was sure she had fallen asleep, he stayed, holding onto the precious piece of innocence that she was. He supposed Patricia was once this pure and happy, but somewhere she had taken a wrong path. Guy closed his eyes and stroked Lily’s wispy hair. How did Michael and Carmody deal with the knowledge that one day Lily would experience the harsh realities of the world? How did it not make them want to wrap their daughter in a protective bubble, always?