Shark Out of Water

by DelSheree Gladden

  A child changed everything.

  He would not just be committing to Charlotte, to her care, but to helping her with Warren and acting as a parent. Guy had no idea what that meant, or if he was even capable. A few hours a week playing with Lily in no way prepared him to take on the responsibility of a child whose only parent was about to face a tremendous challenge. This would not be trips to the zoo or bedtime stories. This would be infinitely more difficult.

  Guy’s chest constricted as panic began to overcome him. He knew he was not fit to be a parent. Taking care of plants or cats was too much for him. He was on the verge of telling Charlotte she was right, that this was more than he could do without causing more hurt than help. His hands pressed into the sofa cushion, ready to propel him up to standing, but Charlotte pacing in front of him halted every thought but one.

  If it was Carmody in the same situation, he would not hesitate, no matter how terrified or ill-prepared he felt. He could never walk away from any of his friends when they truly needed him. Charlotte would need so much over the course of her treatment. Warren would need even more. Yet…his hands relaxed and fell back to his side as he realized his fear was, for once, weaker than his compassion. Everything about the situation had him reeling, but walking away was not an option. It never had been.

  Only minutes later, when Warren and Mindy came back to the living room, pronouncing the fort to be completely dismantled and put away, Guy took a deep breath. Warren seemed to have momentarily forgotten about Guy and his silly sounding words while he said goodbye to his babysitter and clung to his mother. It was only after Mindy had been sent home—cash in hand—and Charlotte turned her attention back to Guy, that Warren remembered him as well.

  “Is your name really Geeee,” Warren asked, stretching out his name as he jumped onto the sofa next to him.

  “It is.”

  “What does it mean?”

  Guy smiled. “It means guide. You know what guide means?”

  Screwing up his face in thought, Warren said, “That’s like the person who shows you where to go, right?” When Guy nodded, he grinned and bounced up and down a bit. “We had a guide at the museum. He told us about the dinosaurs. Do you know about dinosaurs?”

  “Only a little,” Guy admitted with a laugh. Warren looked rather disappointed at that news, but forgot all about it when Charlotte joined them on the couch.

  “It is past your bedtime, little man,” she said. Warren’s expression soured. As though she knew what was coming next, Charlotte began shaking her head. “No, you may not stay up any longer. You have school in the morning. Now, go put on your pajamas and brush your teeth. I’ll be in to say good night in a few minutes.”

  Instead of arguing, Warren turned to Guy. “Will you be here in the morning?”

  Trying not to laugh at his frank question, Guy avoided looking over at Charlotte, who seemed to be shaking her head in embarrassment. “I do not think so,” Guy told Warren. “Why do you ask?”

  “I thought you could make me French toast in the morning if you were.” He squinted his eyes at Guy. “You do know about making French toast, right?”

  “I know something about it,” Guy said, avoiding a direct answer. It seemed to please Warren, as he jumped off the couch and ran down the hall to prepare for bedtime. Guy then glanced over at Charlotte to confess. “I don’t actually know how to make French toast. Just so you know.”

  Charlotte paused and stared at Guy. “Seriously? I’m not even French and I know how to make French toast. Besides, aren’t French guys supposed to be great chefs, making their dates beautiful dinners to win them over and all that?”

  “This is a myth,” Guy said, laughing. “You would be lucky indeed to find a French man who can cook. The women are the chefs. Our mothers do the cooking.”

  “That sounds terribly sexist,” Charlotte said.

  Amused by her reaction, Guy reached out to Charlotte. She allowed him to pull her a little closer. “It is not sexist, it is tradition.”

  “So you don’t know how to cook anything?”

  “I would not say that exactly,” Guy hedged. “I have survived on my own the last few years. I am capable of making a few things.” When Charlotte gave him a skeptical look, he felt shame for his lack of domestic skills. He looked at Charlotte seriously and said, “I am not unwilling to learn.”

  Charlotte tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. She started to say something, but Warren’s voice calling out from the hallway stopped her short. Instead of whatever she was going to say, she said, “Coming, little man.” She stood, slipping out of Guy’s grasp. She looked toward the hallway, but turned back to face Guy. “We need to talk, but let me tuck Warren in first.”

  It was tempting to take the time to sit and consider everything Guy had learned that night. It was equally tempting to stay on the sofa and stare blankly at the wall. Guy was not about to do either. He stood, feeling suddenly nervous. “Would you… could I help you?”

  Rather than answer, Charlotte slipped her hand into Guy’s. They walked down the hall to where Warren was laying on the floor, rolling back and forth impatiently. Guy and Lily had their own routine, but Guy stood back, watching Charlotte curl up with Warren on his bed as they read from his favorite book. It was a different dynamic than what he was used to. There was no joking or playing, but he was captivated by their sweet interactions. It was obvious to Guy how much Warren loved his mother. She was his whole world. He was affected deeply as Guy realized Warren could lose her. What would that do to such a young boy who adored his mother so much?

  “Goodnight, Mr. Guy,” Warren said as Charlotte stood and walked toward the door. When Guy stepped forward to see around her, she surprised him by gesturing for him to continue.

  Guy approached Warren’s bed and sat down on the edge. “Bonne nuit, Warren. I hope you have peaceful dreams tonight.”

  Warren gave him a funny look, but said, “Well, I hope you make me French toast in the morning.”

  His comment made Guy and Charlotte both laugh, though Charlotte’s laugh was tinged with trepidation. Guy ruffled Warren’s hair playfully and said he would do what he could about the French toast. He seemed satisfied with that answer and snuggled down in his blankets with a final goodnight to his mother.

  The walk back to the living room felt longer than it should have to Guy. He was almost afraid to sit down next to Charlotte and face what she planned to say to him. If Charlotte did not want him to continue in her life, there was nothing he could do to change her mind.

  Sitting down next to Guy, Charlotte looked worn out. She refused to let her weariness stop her from facing him squarely. “Warren is the biggest reason I went home to my parents last weekend,” she said. “Taking care of myself will be hard enough. How am I supposed to take care of Warren, too? Dr. Myles warned me that treatment for what I have can take up to two years before patients go into remission…if they go into remission. I don’t know how to do this without moving back home and letting my parents help me.”

  “It does seem like the wisest choice,” Guy admitted. “That is what you wish to do?”

  Charlotte’s head fell into her hands. “No.” She looked back up at Guy, her expression tortured. “I don’t want to leave my life here, or uproot Warren in the middle of the school year, or take him away from his friends and his home. I don’t want to have to move him again when this is all over. This is where our lives are. Warren loves his school. He loves Mindy. I love my job and I don’t want to give up on everything I’ve worked for here.”

  “What do you do?” Guy asked.

  For a moment, Charlotte was too off balance by the change in topics to answer. She shook her head a moment later and said, “I’m a graphic designer. I help design product packaging for companies.”

  “That is a job you could do from home, oui? Moving may not mean losing your place in the company you work for. They could possibly reduce your workload when you are undergoing treatment, make you à temps partiel. I mean, half-t
ime, or contract employee, yes?” Guy offered.

  Charlotte stared at him in confusion. “I thought you were going to talk me into staying?”

  “Oui, I am,” Guy said, smiling, “but not for the wrong reasons.”

  She shook her head at him. “Guy, I don’t want to leave, but I don’t know how to stay.”

  “You stay by letting people help you. You stay by making a plan that makes remaining in Chicago easier.”

  Charlotte pulled her legs up onto the couch, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her. She faced Guy squarely. “Are you telling me that you have a plan…already?”

  “I am not so bold as to say I have a plan for everything, but I think there are things that could make this easier for you here.”

  “Such as?”

  Guy hesitated. After her comment about not uprooting Warren, he worried she would be against his first suggestion. It needed to be made, however. “If you could find a house or ground level apartment still in Warren’s school district, would you consider moving? The stairs are going to be difficult for you during treatment.”

  Even having suspected that Charlotte would not like his suggestion, he did not expect her to begin sobbing. He was too shocked to react immediately. When he did, she pushed him away when he tried to comfort her. He refrained from touching her, but he could not stay silent. “Charlotte, I am so sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”

  “This is the apartment Jackson and I bought and moved into after we got married. It’s where we brought Warren home together. This is the only place Warren spent time with his father.”

  Understanding the source of her pain, Guy sank into the couch. “When did Jackson die?”

  “Three days after Warren was born,” Charlotte said through her tears. “He went to the store to get a few of the things we didn’t even know we needed for Warren. I fell asleep after he left. When I woke, it was dark and I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t gotten home yet. I tried calling his cell phone so many times. I was frantic by the time the police knocked on the apartment door.”

  No longer able to resist comforting her, Guy pulled Charlotte into his arms. She curled against his chest without hesitation. He stroked her hair as he held her. “What happened?” he asked when she had calmed somewhat.

  “A woman wasn’t paying attention and ran a red light. She was speeding and hit Jackson’s car right where he was sitting. The police said he was killed by the impact. It was so sudden. I was left to raise our son on my own while I was trying to grieve for my husband. I almost moved home after it happened, but I couldn’t bear to leave the apartment.”

  Guy stayed silent for several long minutes. He understood why leaving the apartment behind would be difficult for Charlotte, but he worried staying would make life much more difficult for her. Even so, the topic was clearly not an easy one for her to face. “Let’s not talk about the apartment right now.” He pushed her back from his chest gently. “What about Warren? Have you considered arrangements that may need to be made for him? The girl, Mindy, she is still in school, oui?”

  Wiping away tears, Charlotte nodded. “Yes. She watches him after school now, and I think she’ll be able to walk him to school for me if I can’t, but I can only afford so much per week for daycare. And if I’m not working, I don’t know what I’ll do to cover everything.” She shook her head. “I have to make sure Warren is taken care of. If I went home, at least someone would be there every day to make sure he has what he needs.”

  “Did you know,” Guy said, “that Carmody is a stay-at-home mom and a registered nurse?”

  Charlotte shook her head, clearly perplexed by the question. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Carmody’s husband, Michael, is also a chef who earns a very good income and Carmody is always looking for play friends for Lily.”

  Still unsure of the point, Charlotte peered up at him carefully. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I am telling you this because you do not seem to believe me that you will have all the help you need if you stay here. I do not know if you believed that Warren’s presence alone would make me run away from you, or if knowing that remaining your friend will mean helping both you and Warren made you think I would leave, but neither one is true.”

  Pushing up off the couch, Charlotte began pacing in front of the coffee table. “Why? Why are you even here, Guy? Why are you so determined to help me?” She stopped pacing and stared him down. “I knew Jackson since high school. We dated for over a year before he told me he loved me. I don’t know if this is some kind of French cultural thing where you think you’re in love and you’re determined to win me over, or if you’re just a weirdo who’s become fixated on me, or one of those guys who needs to feel like they’re rescuing women all the time to feel fulfilled. I have no idea, but I don’t know what to do with you! I don’t understand what’s going on in your head, because most normal guys would be gone by now.”

  Guy said nothing. He waited until Charlotte’s agitation calmed and her chest stopped pulsing frantically with every anxiety-laden breath. When he was sure Charlotte was ready to listen, Guy stood and approached her slowly.

  “Charlotte, I am not in love with you,” he said. He was amused when she frowned in what seemed to be disappointment. “I am not dismissing the idea of such a thing,” he said with a smile, “but I make no such claim now, though you are very beautiful and I enjoy being with you very much. While it is not uncommon for French men to come on strongly when they are interested in a woman, this is not the reason I am here.

  “I will admit that I was intrigued by you on our first meeting, but if you tell me tonight that my presence is not welcome, I will not seek you out,” Guy promised. “Neither am I the type of man who constantly needs to rescue women. I could give you the mobile numbers of past girlfriends and they could attest to that fact.”

  “Then why?” Charlotte asked again.

  She did not resist when Guy took both of her hands in his and held them between their bodies. He stared down at her hands for a long while before turning his attention to her worried expression. “I do not connect with people often. My family taught me to have a public persona, superficial interactions that were polite and pleasant, but to hold back deeper emotional connections for family and close friends.” Guy shook his head.

  “How did they expect you to make friends or have a real romantic relationship if that’s how you always acted with people?” Charlotte asked.

  Guy nodded. “That is the problem. The friends I have now are people I spent years with in school, or many, many torturous French lessons with, such as with Carmody.”

  “You taught Carmody to speak French?” Charlotte asked.

  Shaking his head dramatically, Guy laughed. “I am still attempting such a feat. Lily speaks the language better than Carmody.”

  His response made Charlotte chuckle, but she still seemed worried. “If it has taken you so long to let them into your life, what are you doing here with me tonight?”

  “I do not know,” Guy replied honestly. “You may know better than I.”

  Charlotte seemed startled. “I didn’t do anything. I just talked to you.”

  “But it was different. You saw and treated me differently.”

  “But I didn’t,” Charlotte argued.

  “Oui, you did. I do not mean to sound conceited, but most women are taken in by my accent and appearance. You were not. It was as though you looked through what I show people and saw me for true… for real, I mean. You saw me and seemed to accept me without question.”

  For some reason, Charlotte laughed. Guy instantly felt self-conscious, wondering if he had misjudged Charlotte’s reaction to him. He frowned when she freed her hands from his. She pressed them to his face a moment later, capturing his attention. “You thought I wasn’t taken in by you?” Charlotte asked with a laugh.

  Guy shrugged. “You did not seem to have been.”

  “I was a little distracted at the time,” Charlotte said. “Dr. Myles had jus
t given me all my test results and laid out my treatment options.” She shook her head. “It says a lot that you were able to pull my thoughts away from all of that enough to have a semi-normal conversation.”

  His hands slid around her waist as he grinned. “Is that true?”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes at him. “Guy, you’re gorgeous and charming and incredibly sexy. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that.”

  “You are interested in me?” Guy asked in surprise. “More than friendship?”

  “Well,” Charlotte said, taking a step back from him, “I would be if I wasn’t about to go through chemo and probably lose my hair and spend the next two years feeling like I’ve got the worst flu in the world.”

  “After, then?” Guy asked, his grin teasing.

  Instead of being offended by his attempt to lighten her concerns, Charlotte laughed. It was just a chuckle at first, but it grew into a full belly laugh. She had Guy laughing as well until they both sobered as reality rejoined the conversation. Charlotte looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you? About all of this.”

  “Absolument,” Guy said without hesitation. “I am absolutely serious.” Charlotte’s bottom lip began to tremble. She reached out for Guy’s hand, not resisting when he pulled her into his embrace. No other words needed to be said.

  Chapter 15

  Très Fou

  Guy was not sure what woke him. He blinked and attempted to reach up and rub his eyes, but his hand would not come. It took him a few moments to clear his vision and take in his surroundings. Confusion set in when he registered molded ceiling panels. His flat had no such thing, though these reminded him of years past. He moved to sit up, but found himself stuck again. Only when he looked down, did he realize he was lying on a couch and Charlotte was asleep next to him, with his arm serving as her pillow.

  All attempts to get up vanished. He relaxed next to her and carefully drew her hair back from her face where it had fallen during the night. He remembered, then, how emotionally exhausted they had both been after their talk the night before. They had sat down on the sofa afterward, intending only to let themselves calm down a bit before saying goodnight. Clearly, they had been more tired than expected. Not that Guy minded. It was soothing to hold Charlotte, to protect her from fears and worries, but he was not sure how she would react to finding him there next to her. Not wanting to cause any problem, he reluctantly slipped his arm from beneath her head and settled her on the sofa without him.