Shark Out of Water

by DelSheree Gladden

  The park Guy had mentioned was only two blocks from the restaurant. By the time they reached it, Charlotte’s fingers were cinched around his. “You already know, don’t you?” she said quietly.

  Seeing no point in lying to her, Guy said, “I know you are Dr. Myles’ patient, but that is all.”

  “Have you known since the day we met?”

  Guy shook his head. “I thought you worked at the hospital when we met. It was on Thursday that I ran into Myles after we spoke. He only divulged that you were a patient because he was concerned.”

  “Concerned about what?”

  Hesitating, Guy was not eager to share that Myles was worried Guy’s presence in her life would do more harm than good. He had been concerned, as well, that Guy would try to begin a relationship without knowing the truth, but Charlotte was his patient, and he was more concerned for her than for Guy.

  “You have already admitted to knowing about my reputation.”

  “Yes.”

  Guy felt nothing more needed to be said. Charlotte was intelligent enough to see the implications. It would be difficult for him to argue with any objections his past behavior merited.

  “Is that why you came to dinner with me tonight? To tell me you already knew and that you weren’t looking to hook up with a cancer patient?” Charlotte looked up at him, a million questions shining in her eyes.

  “That is what you expected me to say? That is why you would not let me pick you up, no?” Guy pulled her to a stop and waited for an answer.

  His question seemed to put her off balance. He could see that she was thinking very carefully about his questions. “You already knew, but you offered to pick me up.” Her brows scrunched together. She seemed to realize he would not have offered to drive her if he intended to abandon her after hearing her news confirmed. Still, she did not seem convinced. “Maybe you were just too polite not to offer.”

  Guy shook his head.

  Slipping her hand out of his, Charlotte wandered over to a small bench and sat down. “You said yourself you don’t know what I’m facing. How can you say you aren’t bailing on whatever this is between us without knowing?”

  Guy sat down next to her on the bench and placed his arm around her shoulders. “Tell me then.”

  His voice was calm as he spoke despite the fear he struggled to contain. She watched his every expression. It seemed forever before she finally spoke. “Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.”

  Breathing out slowly, Guy sat back against the bench. He had suspected leukemia since Myles was a hematologist who dealt with blood disorders, but he had been hoping for chronic rather than acute. Acute meant it could progress quickly. Treatment was effective, providing survival rates that came close to seventy percent, but only if caught early enough.

  “What stage?” Guy asked. The tremor in his voice belied his fear of what she would say.

  “L1.”

  Guy felt himself relax by the tiniest degree. They had caught it early, but there was more to it than that. “You have already had all of your blood work done, oui?” Charlotte nodded, bringing a dozen more questions to mind. “What was your white blood cell count? Bone marrow aspiration and your blast cell percentage? Philadelphia gene? Did Myles order a spinal tap?”

  Taking in his questions patiently, Charlotte answered each one. “My white blood cell count was fifty thousand at the last check.”

  Guy nodded. Compared to the normal five to ten thousand, that was high, but not astronomical when dealing with leukemia.

  “I had a bone marrow aspiration done a week and a half ago. My blast percentage was twenty-two thousand.”

  Again, it was higher than the normal range, but on the lower end for her condition. He nodded again, indicating he was ready for the next answer.

  “I’m negative for the Philadelphia gene.”

  She said it with a sense of relief, and Guy echoed that sentiment. The genetic abnormality known as the Philadelphia gene significantly reduced the chance of remission and survival. Guy reached over and took her hand again.

  “So far, there’s no sign of central nervous system involvement, but of course, they’ll have to monitor me very closely and Dr. Myles plans to move forward with CNS prophylaxis treatment alongside the remission induction therapy.” She sighed. “He wants me to consider joining a clinical trial as an alternative to standard treatment, but I’m not sure.”

  Clinical trial. Those two words had a strange effect on Guy. Those types of trials were important in cancer research. They were new, possibly better treatments, but there was a higher chance of side effects or poor results. Charlotte might still receive the standard treatment if she ended up being part of the control group, but if she was chosen to receive the experimental drug and it did not work, her treatment would be set back. That could mean the difference between achieving remission and seeing the disease spread.

  “Is that why you went to visit your parents, to discuss your treatment options?” Guy asked. He was not sure how he managed to keep his voice so calm when his mind and heart were struggling to process everything.

  “No,” Charlotte said, surprising him. “I went to tell them about the diagnosis and to ask their advice on whether or not to stay here.”

  Guy looked over at her sharply. “What do you mean?” He shook his head in confusion. “Why would you leave? Your doctor is here. We have one of the top cancer treatment centers in the country at this hospital. You will receive the best care here.”

  “I know,” Charlotte said. She rested her hand gently on Guy’s forearm after hearing the anxiety in his voice. “I understand all of that, but I don’t know if I can get through this without help. I’m worried that I’ll have to take a leave of absence from work. Any savings I do have are going to disappear quickly. Dr. Myles warned me that the treatment is pretty intense. I may not be able to take care of myself. If I can’t, I don’t have anyone else here to rely on.”

  Shaking his head, Guy said, “That is not true, Charlotte. You will have more help than you can stand.”

  “Guy, look,” Charlotte said, pulling away from him so she could face him head on, “I can’t make this decision based on your promise that you want to help. No offense, but I barely know you. You seem like a genuinely nice guy. If I wasn’t sick, I’d be thrilled to have a charming Frenchman sweep me off my feet. It’s not that simple, though.”

  “I never said it was simple.”

  She shook her head in irritation. “Guy, please. I didn’t ask you to dinner tonight to try and wrangle a promise out of you that you’ll help me through all of this. That would be crazy! I would never expect that from someone I’d known for years, let alone a few weeks.”

  “Why did you ask me to accompany you tonight?” Guy asked. He was trying to understand her, but she was not making sense.

  Folding her arms across her chest, Charlotte glared at him. “I wanted to tell you goodbye.”

  Shocked, even though he supposed he should not have been, Guy struggled to find a response. “You have decided to leave?”

  “No, well, maybe. I’m not sure yet. There’s so much to consider, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not dragging you into my problems just because I’m terrified of doing this alone!”

  “Am I being dragged? No,” Guy argued. “I came here tonight already knowing you were sick. To be honest, I thought you were mourant!”

  “More what?”

  “Mourant, dying!” Guy snapped. “I thought that was your reason for going home to your parents, to discuss whether or not to accept treatment.”

  Charlotte stared at him unblinking. “You thought I was going to die?”

  “I knew it was a possibility. I have spent the last three days reading old textbooks, relearning everything I could about cancer so I could be prepared to have this conversation and help you.” Guy shook his head, frustrated because he had no idea what to do anymore.

  For a long while, Charlotte did not speak. She turned away from him and stared out into the trees, silent as
she thought. It was torture for Guy not to say anything. He knew she needed to consider his words and her own feelings, but he was silently begging her not to brush him off.

  “Why are you doing this, Guy?” Charlotte finally asked. “Is it because of your patient who killed herself?”

  “What do you mean?” Guy pulled back.

  Staring down at her hands, Charlotte would not look at him as she spoke. “I know you feel guilty about her death, but trying to save me won’t make you feel any better about what she did.”

  Guy was struck by her comment. Was that why he had latched onto Charlotte so quickly, why he felt a connection with her? Perhaps, on the surface, it might appear to be true, but Guy had met Charlotte before Patricia’s death. He had felt a sense of kinship with her from that first, chance encounter. It was not a desire to save her, either. He knew there was a chance she would not survive this illness. He was more optimistic now than he had been before, but he knew the chance remained. If she declined, even with treatment, there was nothing he would be able to do to stop that from happening.

  The conversation with Vance late Thursday night came back into his mind. Everything he had said that night was still true. Slowly, Guy put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulder and pulled her closer to him. Instead of arguing that his desire to befriend her had nothing to do with Patricia, Guy took a different approach.

  “My friend Carmody and her husband Michael are traveling to France in a few months for their fifth wedding anniversary. While they are gone, their three-year-old, Lily, will stay with her grandparents. I had wanted to offer to watch her myself, but because of my work schedule, it would have been difficult for me to keep her the entire time. So, we have dates planned, instead, for when I am not working.”

  “Dates?” Charlotte asked.

  “Oui, for Lily and me. She is ma petite amie. She has requested to visit the butterfly zoo, which is really the botanic gardens, the regular zoo, the children’s museum, and to have a sleepover in her Dora tent.”

  “A sleepover?” Charlotte questioned.

  Guy nodded with a smile. “But it has to be in the Dora tent. I’m not sure how she expects me to fit inside the tent, though. It is very small.”

  As he spoke, the tension holding Charlotte’s body away from him softened. She leaned into his embrace, lightly, but with less hesitation than before. “You have all of this planned… with a three-year old? That’s a difficult age to manage.”

  “Oui, but if she does not behave, she knows I will not read her a bedtime story, and that is her favorite activity for us. Sometimes I think it is the only reason Carmody and Michael invite me for dinner, so they can have a night off from bedtime duty,” Guy said with a chuckle.

  There was a small smile on Charlotte’s lips, but she did not respond right away. She seemed to be considering everything very carefully. “Guy, are you telling me all of this to convince me you’re not a player like everyone at the hospital jokes you are? Because…”

  “No,” he interrupted, “that is not why. I have no excuses for my dating track record. I have never wanted a serious relationship with anyone, and I ended it as soon as I saw it going in that direction.” He shook his head, knowing it sounded like he was trying to tell Charlotte he expected some kind of commitment from her. “I’m not even suggesting that is what our relationship might become. I only know that I have come to care about you and I do not plan on abandoning our friendship because of your illness. I may not be very good at romantic relationships, but I do know how to be a friend. There would not be a whole group of people willing to help you in any way you need, simply because you are important to me, if I did not.”

  “What do you mean?” Charlotte looked up at him, clearly upset. “You told all your friends about me? About my cancer?”

  Guy shook his head. “I spoke to Vance because I needed advice…and because he is my psychiatrist. I mentioned you to Carmody after I first met you, and all I told her this weekend was that you may need some help in the future. My other friends, I know all I need to do is ask and they will do what they can.”

  Charlotte’s anger diffused, but she remained reluctant. Guy thought he understood why. It had to be a frightening thing to think about staying in Chicago for her treatment with only the promised help of a man she had only known for a few weeks. When Charlotte, spoke, he realized that was not the whole reason.

  “Guy, if you’re serious about wanting to stay friends despite me being sick…well, there’s something else you need to know.”

  The expression she wore spoke more than words alone. Whatever she was still hiding, it was pas bon. It was not good at all. She was suddenly more nervous about her new secret than she was about revealing her illness.

  Chapter 14

  Absolument

  Stepping out of his car, Guy watched Charlotte do the same. He had followed her, at her request, back to her flat. Why he did so was something of a mystery. Charlotte had offered no explanation after telling Guy there was something else she needed to tell him. She simply asked him to follow her home so she could explain.

  Even now, as they stood on the street, Charlotte balked at giving him any hints. “Follow me,” was all she said. She did, at least, wait for Guy and walk with him up to the main entrance.

  The building’s classic architecture spoke of a past century. It was clearly a remnant of an older time, but remained solid and well cared for. The neighborhood surrounding it was pleasant and seemed safe, which pleased Guy. It was not enough to occupy his mind as Charlotte unlocked the main door and gestured for him to enter. These were not the circumstances he had envisioned when previously considering being asked up to Charlotte’s flat. He followed her up the stairs regardless, anxious to know what she thought would change his mind.

  Having realized Charlotte wanted distance from him until everything was in the clear, he had refrained from touching her. However, when she became noticeably tired after the first two flights of stairs, he put one hand under her elbow and the other around her side for support. She froze at his touch, but Guy saw in her eyes that it was more from worry than his nearness. He felt the same thing.

  If Charlotte was already struggling to manage the stairs to her apartment before treatment even began, how did she hope to carry on when the chemotherapy made her too weak to get around? Guy’s concern grew with each step. By the time they made it to the door of her flat, Charlotte was clearly fatigued. It took her a moment to compose herself and unlock the door.

  As soon as she did, high pitched squealing sounded through the flat. Guy’s attention was immediately drawn toward the sound as his arm tightened around Charlotte’s waist. She only smiled, her arms reaching out when a child came tearing around the corner and collided with her. The impact knocked her back into Guy, who was luckily still holding onto her, but she only laughed.

  “Mommy!” the little boy cried. “You’re home!”

  Guy held onto Charlotte while his head spun. She had a child? A million and one questions filled his mind, but before he had the opportunity to ask a single one, a teenage girl burst around the corner looking exhausted.

  “Mrs. Brooks, I’m sorry. He heard the door being unlocked and just took off. I got caught up in the blanket fort we made and couldn’t stop him from running through the house.”

  “It’s okay, Mindy. Don’t worry about it.” She glanced down at her son, who looked to be around five or six years old. She leveled a scolding finger at him. “Warren, you know better than to run inside the apartment.”

  The little boy’s head dipped down in contrition, but the happy grin remained on his lips. He only held the pose for a few seconds before looking back up at his mother. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to Guy.

  “This is my friend, Guy.”

  Warren wrinkled his nose. “Gee? That’s a funny name.”

  Shaking her head, Charlotte started to say something, but Guy held up a hand to cut her off. He squatted down next to Warren. “It is funny, because it is Fre
nch. All my words sound funny to people here.”

  Warren peered up at his mother, likely trying to gauge her reaction so he could figure out if Guy was playing a trick on him or not. When he seemed confident that he was not being made fun of, he stared at Guy again. “Where did you come from?”

  “I was born in France, but I live here in Chicago now.”

  “Can you speak France?” Warren asked.

  Guy smiled at his mistaken word choice. “Oui, je parle très bien le Français.”

  Warren’s eyes lit up with excitement. He turned to his mother, tugging on the hand he still held. “Mom, did you hear that?”

  “Yes, I did,” she said. “Why don’t you go help Mindy clean up the fort? It’s time for her to go home. I’m sure she’s tired after playing games with you all night.”

  “Will you still be here when I’m done?” Warren asked Guy.

  Guy and Charlotte exchanged glances, neither one sure, neither one wanting to speak for the other. After a moment of hesitation, Charlotte looked down to Warren and said, “That depends on how long it takes you to clean up.”

  The sound of bare feet slapping against hard wood was all that was left of Warren as soon as the words left Charlotte’s mouth. Mindy laughed at his antics before turning to follow him. As soon as the two had disappeared, Guy turned to Charlotte, who instantly became defensive.

  “Please, not yet,” she begged. “I haven’t told Mindy what’s going on yet. She only knows I haven’t been feeling well and I don’t want her to overhear anything. She’ll be very upset.”

  “And Warren? He does not know?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t even know how to explain everything to him.”

  Guy nodded slowly and reassured her he would not say anything. His thoughts were still racing, but he forced himself to settle on the sofa and wait. No matter how much he thought he had prepared for his confrontation with Charlotte, the discovery of Warren had completely caught him off guard. It terrified him. He had made his decision to stand by Charlotte through her illness despite how much that frightened him.