by Tina Martin
“Well, if you didn’t get dissed, what happened with Camille last night?”
“I took her to her hotel and she jumped on me like she was desperate. I wasn’t feeling it. Anyway, I gotta get back—”
“Yo, we still hittin’ Club Ice tonight, right?”
“No….can’t make it tonight.”
“Carter, you killin’ me.”
“You can go without me for a change.”
“Yeah, right…like I can pull the crowd of women you be pulling. Them women don’t want no scruffy looking dude like me. They like them tall, yellow boys.”
“Man, please. You get more play than me…got them chicks thinking you Anthony Anderson.” Carter laughed. “You shouldn’t even be concerned about picking up chicks anyway. You got a woman.”
Carter looked up, noticed a nurse checking him out. She shot a flirtatious smile his way. He smiled back just to be polite then returned his attention to Terrance. “Look, man, I’ma holla at you later. I gotta run.”
“Ah’ight. Later.”
Before Carter could step back in the room, his phone rang again. Who is it now, he thought, and actually frowned. He might as well been at work to be talking on the phone this much.
“Hello,” he answered, even though he didn’t recognize the number that appeared on his screen.
“Hey, Carter. It’s Julissa.”
“Uh, hey,” Carter said unexcitedly. He could barely recall the woman, but remembered he had dinner at her place a while back and spent the night at her home in Mint Hill or Indian Trail. Or maybe it was out in Matthews. He dated so many women, he lost track of them and the surrounding cities in which they lived.
“So I was wondering if I could see you tonight, boo,” Julissa hissed in his ear and when she said, boo, he remembered which one she was…the woman who was in medical school. They’d spent a few days together back in October, then his interest in her waned, same as every other woman he ever came in contact with. Still he wondered why she was calling him four months later. He must’ve made an impression.
“Um…” Carter scratched his head. “Now’s not a good time, Julissa.”
“Well, can you call me later?”
“I’m gonna be busy later.”
“But Carter, I thought we had a nice time when we hung out. It’s been months and you haven’t even bothered to call me. Didn’t we have a good time together?”
“Listen, ah…Julie—”
“Julissa,” she quickly corrected.
“Right…Julissa…I know I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” he said, because that’s what he told all the women he dealt with. “So I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”
“Oh, I get it…now you don’t want to see me, but it’s all good. I’ll never bother you again,” Julissa said. She hung up her phone, disappointed.
Carter shook his head, mad at himself for hurting yet another woman. Julissa was probably sitting at home in her room crying at the realization he wanted nothing more to do with her. His charismatic ways and irresistible charm had many women trying to latch on to him. He was a good catch. By outside appearances, he was the type of man any woman would want to introduce to her parents – he had a solid, lucrative career, a home, luxury vehicles, money and he was extremely good-looking – what woman wouldn’t want to lock him down? But Carter wasn’t having it. He was single, thirty-five years old and loving the single life without having to deal with the complication of bringing a woman into his perfect realm. Besides, why have one woman when he could have them all?
He slid his phone in his shirt pocket then pushed the door open to accompany the homeless woman again. He stared at her as he walked around the foot of the bed in order to reach the chair that sat next to it. “What’s your name?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the chair now, attentive to her.
The woman pretended not to hear him, closed her eyes briefly then was back to the ceiling, her mind being flooded by fluorescent lighting as his deep voice swept back and forth in the emptiness of her head.
What’s your name? What’s your name? Your name? Name?
She could recognize the sincerity in his voice but again, she didn’t know this man – only that he had a role in saving her life.
“I know you hear me.” He glanced at the monitors as if he had the expertise to read them, but had no clue what the numbers meant. All he knew, from watching television hospital shows, was that a flat line was a bad thing, and so as long as he didn’t see one, she was good.
Carter touched her hand, having read somewhere that when you politely touch a stranger during conversation, it’s a natural ice breaker. Makes them more comfortable with you.
“Where are you from?”
The woman quivered, snatched her hand away from him and closed her eyes again.
Carter sighed deeply. “Boy-o-boy…what are you getting yourself into now, Carter?” He rubbed his hands together like men do as if the gesture helped them to plan their next move. Then he checked his watch. The town meeting was about to get underway. “What am I doing here?” he mumbled.
“I can hear you, you know?” the woman said, her voice low, very soft. Delicate. Raspy. She coughed a rough, sick cough and opened her eyes.
Carter perked up. Finally, he was getting somewhere. “What did you say?”
“I said,” the woman took a breath and whispered again, “I can hear you.”
“If you can hear me, why won’t you answer me, sweetheart?”
“There’s nothing sweet about me.” She coughed a little harder, her gritty voice only a little higher than a whisper. “And I don’t have a heart. Not anymore.”
“Come on now,” Carter said, reaching for her hand again with intentions on consoling her but she snatched it away for the second time. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve been through a lot and it’s gonna take some time to heal.” He waited for her to respond. After a full, long silent minute, she still said nothing.
He stood up, leaned over her to take a closer look at her face. The urine smell hit him hard up close, but instead of stepping away from her to get some fresh air, he held his breath while examining her. The dark circles under her eyes were more visible now that she’d had them closed. He noticed several scratches on her cheek. He wondered what she had to endure on the streets, if she’d been hurt, beaten up or raped. When was her last bath? Last meal? Where was her family? Brothers? Sisters? Parents? How did she end up this way?
He touched her arm, his large, strong hands big enough to wrap around her wrist and said, “Can you tell me your name?” as he coughed a little from the odor.
The woman adjusted her position in the bed, hiding her hands and arms under the thick pile of blankets that lay on top of her, keeping them out of Carter’s reach. “Why? Why…do you want to know…my name?” she asked taking necessary breaths in between.
“Because I need to know.”
“Why?” she asked, looking at him, her eyes batting slowly.
Carter sat on the bed next to her, staring into her eyes, feeling a strong urge to stroke her hair, but if she couldn’t tolerate his gentle touch to her forearm, she certainly wouldn’t be comfortable with hair strokes. So feeling disconnected, Carter used words to relay his genuineness. “So I can take care of you.”
“I don’t need you…to…take care…of me,” she said between coughs. “I’m in a hospital. They should be able to do that job. What are you doing here, anyway?”
Carter frowned. “I’m here because I care.”
“You care?” she asked, followed by a double sneeze, her body shivering as if struck with a sudden cold spell. Aftershocks. “Nobody cares. People pretend to care about people like me only because they feel like they’re doing the universe a favor. I mean really, don’t put yourself out.”
Carter looked angrily upon her and spoke in his tactful business tone saying, “Believe me, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. I’m here because I do care…thought you were going to die in my
arms this morning.”
“Well, unfortunately, I’m not dead, so…”
“What?” Carter glared at her as if he had heard her incorrectly. How could this delicate, little woman be so unappreciative?
“Just go…run off and save somebody who wants to be saved. I’ll be fine here, and even if I’m not, that’s okay too.”
“Wow,” Carter said. He felt dissed, something he never felt with a woman. And he was accustomed to dealing with high-maintenance chicks – women he could effortlessly attract with his nonchalant, arrogant attitude and deep pockets. Being dissed by a homeless woman was not good for his ego.
“Why are you so ungrateful?” he finally snapped. It had been on the tip of his tongue for the last few minutes. “I could’ve left you lying on the sidewalk…”
“Then why didn’t you?” The woman shot back in a monotone low voice, not sounding argumentative, but her words still came across harsh.
“Because I cared enough to stop and help you,” he said, raising his voice a higher octave. “I had a very important meeting to attend today, but instead, I’m stuck here with you.”
“You’re not stuck. I don’t see any chains on you. Go…I don’t need you here. Go to your meeting.”
“You know what,” Carter said, lowering his tone, trying not to let his feelings get in the way of what he wanted to accomplish with her. “I’m just gonna step out of the room. Why don’t you rest…sleep off your anger or something? Jeez.”
“Why don’t you go home?” she said so softly, Carter couldn’t completely make out what she’d said.
She closed her eyes after she watched Carter leave the room. Finally, peace and quiet. That, coupled with a soft bed and warm blankets were enough to put a sugar-crazed toddler to sleep, but as she laid there drifting she remembered her last moments with her fiancé’, eight months ago:
“Hey babe,” she told him as he stepped in the kitchen, briefcase in hand. She hadn’t been home too long, but was there long enough to get started on dinner. She’d just slid a meatloaf in the oven. The blended aromas of onions, green peppers ground beef and spices filled the kitchen. “So, how was job hunting? Find anything?”
Jacob was perplexed about something, that much she could tell from the worried expression on his face. She studied him closer by looking him up and down, noticing his smoke gray suit – clean and crisp, his shirt white, his necktie loosened, his five-o’clock shadow poking through his light skin.
He walked up to her, tasted her lips, held her head firmly between his strong hands. “You know I love you, more than anything in this world. You know that don’t you, Shay?”
Her face glowed as she stared into his eyes. “Yes,” she replied. “I know. That’s why I’m marrying you.”
He attacked her lips again, this time stronger than before. Actually, she couldn’t recall an instance when he kissed her so vigorously. Her hands found the back of his head. He mumbled how much he loved her while they smooched. Then he said that he would always love her, even if something bad were to happen to him…
Chapter 3
The tired woman opened her eyes, just in time for dinner service. She didn’t have the appetite to sample the Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and peas on her tray. A few days ago, she would’ve fought somebody to get a meal like this – now it was sitting right in front of her and she couldn’t eat it. Go figure.
Instead, she took a few sips of orange juice and traveled the room with her eyes. Carter, she noticed, wasn’t there. She imagined he was in way over his head trying to play hero to her and after she told him to leave, he took her advice and bounced. She looked to her right and saw a black briefcase next to the chair beside her bed. A businessman never leaves his briefcase behind, especially a Carter-Williams-type business man. It would only be a matter of time before he was back, and speak of the devil…
“How are you feeling?” Carter asked as he stepped in the room with some food in a Styrofoam carry-out container. His sleeves were rolled up, necktie loosened and the top two buttons of his shirt undid. “It’s good to see you sitting up.”
The woman didn’t say anything to him. She sipped a little more orange juice and stared down at her tray, trying to decide if she wanted to try any food. Mashed potatoes, maybe.
Carter eyed her as he walked around the bed to reach the recliner. He sat next to her, blew a long breath and said, “Look sweetie, you’re gonna have to talk to me if you don’t want these people throwing you in a mental facility.”
She looked at him. He reminded her of someone. An actor? Singer? Someone from her past? Her eyes rolled up to his brown curly hair, then down to his lips, just staring at them. Continuing downward to his chest, she noticed the little sprigs of chest hair through the unbuttoned slit. On to his pants, her eyes focused on the stains on the knees. She remembered him being next to her on the sidewalk but not much else. She thought for a minute more about how much he probably paid for the suit while she scanned the room for his jacket to see what sort of damage he incurred on that as well. Maybe if the jacket wasn’t ruined, he could save the pants.
“Where is your jacket?” she asked him.
“What?” He unwrapped a club sandwich.
“The jacket…that goes with your pants…where is it?”
“What does it matter? You wanna talk about a jacket…I don’t even know your name.”
“Why won’t you answer my question?” she asked, in a low voice. She turned to look at him and instantly recalled to mind who he resembled. The actor on one of Jason’s favorite TV shows. Rescue Me. Franco Rivera. Daniel Sunjata.
“Why won’t you answer my question?” he shot back, bringing the sandwich to his mouth, taking a bite, never taking his eyes off of her. “Where are you from? Do you have any family?” he mumbled, chewing. If he could find her family, he’d call someone to come and take care of her since she wasn’t cooperating with him. He could go back to work and forget any of this ever happened. Maybe even leave the hospital in enough time to meet some of his big shot colleagues from Rock Hill, South Carolina for drinks before they headed home in the morning.
She took another sip of orange juice, trying to work up the nerve to answer his questions and taste one of the food items on her tray. Instead of doing either, she looked at Carter and said, “Can I have a bite?”
Carter grinned with food tucked in his jaw. “You got a whole tray of food right there in front of you and you want my sandwich?”
“I just want a bite.”
Smiling and chewing, Carter said, “Sure, darling.”
He stood up, held the sandwich in front of her face, but before she took a bite, he said, “Wait. Let’s do this.” He broke a piece off for her instead of letting her bite it, just to keep things sanitary. She took the sample from his fingers with her mouth.
“Mmm,” she said, savoring bacon, ham, bologna, lettuce, Swiss cheese and mayo. “That’s good.”
“You want it?” he offered.
“No. I don’t want to eat your food.”
“Sweetie, when a man offers you food, you take it. That’s rare, you know.”
Shayla smiled briefly, thinking about how Jacob had once told her something similar. “No, you go ahead.”
“How about I give you half?” Carter asked, already sizing up what half might’ve been of what was left.
She shrugged.
“You want it or not?” Carter asked. He hated indecisiveness and would swear that’s the reason he was able to climb the corporate ladder so fast. He could make ingenious split-second decisions, relay instructions in a way that people understood, then made sure they carried out his plan.
“Okay,” she accepted.
Carter broke the remainder of the sandwich, handing her the biggest piece.
“Thanks.” She took a bite.
Carter sat in the recliner again, watching her eat, feeling a sense of accomplishment. At least he got her to eat something, even if it was his dinner.
“Carter Williams?�
� she mumbled as she ate.
“Yes?” He smiled at the way she said his whole name.
“Nothing. I just wanted to say your name out loud. Sounds important. Sounds famous actually.” She finished eating the half-sandwich, watched Carter finish his and said, “Why do you use names like sweetheart, sweetie and darling when you talk to me?”
“That’s just how I address women.”
“Really?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yep.”
“So if you were in Starbucks ordering a latte, you’d say, ‘I’ll take a latte, sweetheart?’”
Carter laughed.
She chuckled a bit too, then followed up with, “Sweetheart, where’s my drizzle of caramel? I asked for whipped cream too, darling.”
“No, not like that. I only use those names on a individual basis and with you especially because, for some strange reason that’s completely beyond me, you won’t tell me your name.”
“It’s not a strange reason…just don’t want you getting too personable with me. I heard you cancelling your meetings and stuff. I mean, I’ll be fine here. You don’t have to rearrange your life to help a complete stranger.”
“Oh, now you tell me after you ate my sandwich.” Carter laughed.
She smiled at him. “I mean, really. You could be home relaxing right now or doing whatever it is that people like you do at this time of the day. I’m not your responsibility.”
“You are if I make you,” he said frankly, the business man in him taking over.
“Tell you what,” the woman said. “If you tell me what happened to your jacket, I’ll tell you my name. Deal?”
It seemed senseless to Carter, but he played along to get her name. Finally. “Okay. Deal,” Carter said, throwing some fries in his mouth.
“So, start talking.”
“Okay…” Carter said chewing fast to empty his mouth. “Don’t know why this is relevant to you, but I used my jacket to put underneath your head…when you were…you know…when I found you on the sidewalk.”
