Accidental Deception

by Tina Martin

  “You sure don’t look fine,” the nurse said, handing Shayla a box of Kleenex. “I thought for sure you’d be ready to eat after your bath. Don’t you feel better?”

  Shayla snatched a tissue from the box, wiped her eyes and dabbed her nose.

  “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “No,” Shayla cried. She had an aching for Carter to be there, to be by her side as he had been since finding her beside the road. She needed him there. Even after telling him several times to leave, she needed him. She had no one else.

  Shayla closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the crying and that’s when she heard his voice outside of her door, her savior, saying ‘good morning’ to someone out in the hallway. Her heart rejoiced and she was so happy, she felt weak. Her body couldn’t handle the elation.

  “She still sleepin’?” Carter asked the nurse at the door.

  “No. She’s up. I helped her bathe and tried to get her to eat earlier, but she started crying and closed her eyes on me.”

  Shayla listened as Carter stepped in the room.

  “Shay,” he said softly.

  She opened her eyes when he whispered her name. Carter held a beautiful bouquet of flowers in one hand and balloons in the other, expressions of get well soon defying gravity courtesy of helium; enough balloons to send a small child soaring into outer space. She paid particular interest to the flowers – roses, lilies and poms – arranged beautifully in a green vase. He set the things on a countertop before walking over to her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing tears from her face with his thumbs, noticing the cleanness of her skin. Made the scars on her face more visible. “Are you in pain?”

  If he only knew how much pain she was in – the mental pain heavily outweighed the physical – thinking about Jacob every night and reliving what happened was taking a toll on her. The remembering, the nightmares – it was all too much. But now that Carter was with her again, the emotional part just got a lot better.

  Carter called the nurse back in the room to be on the safe side. “Is she okay?” he asked, never taking his eyes off of Shayla.

  “Oh, she’s okay. I don’t think she’s in any pain, but like I told her a moment ago, she does have bronchitis, so we’re going to do some breathing treatments after breakfast. Other than that, she seems all right. She did ask me where you were a lil’ bit ago. I think she was worried you weren’t coming back.”

  Carter leaned over Shayla.

  She noticed he smelled fresh – like cologne, soap, aftershave – the same smells she remembered as he wavered over her on the sidewalk. She inhaled a long drag of his scent while staring at his face, noticing that he shaved. For a second, she wanted to run her hand across his cheek to feel the smoothness of his skin, but resisted.

  “You thought I wasn’t coming back, sweetheart?”

  Shayla nodded, and watched the nurse beam while leaving room.

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to rush so I could get back before you woke up. I just ran home to shower, change clothes and get you a lil’ something to cheer you up.” Carter took her hand and clutched it. “I told you I was gonna be here for you. I’m a man of my word. You can trust me.”

  He thought about what he said – you can trust me – but he had yet to tell her about Jacob. He was hurt by his brother’s suicide so he could only imagine the heartbreak Shayla must have felt when he died. But did he really want to have this discussion while she was laid up in a hospital bed, trying to recover from a list of ailments? There was no sense in opening old wounds, not now anyway. Her physical health was more important.

  He kissed the backside of her hand and squeezed it slightly between his two large ones. “Now you have to eat your breakfast, hun.”

  “Okay.” She watched Carter scoop up some eggs, then proceeded to spoon feed her like an infant. In many ways, she felt like one – a helpless child. Obviously she couldn’t take care of herself. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Plus, she needed food, clothing, shelter and unconditional love, all the ingredients for a happy, healthy baby. She had indeed regressed to infancy.

  “How is it?” he inquired.

  “It’s okay.”

  He gave her another spoon full then asked, “Are you usually this soft-spoken in the mornings?”

  Shayla looked him square in the eyes, noticing how bright and brown they were. She clearly saw how distinguished he was now, looking dapper in a black, collared sweater and blue jeans.

  “Ah…I don’t know how to answer that,” Shayla said chewing. “I mean, I’m not sure. I guess my body needs time to wake up.”

  “So the answer is yes?”

  Shayla shrugged. “I guess so. Why?”

  “I like it. It’s sweet.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. A mild spirited woman is soothing…a rare gem.” A rare gem indeed, especially compared to the women he was accustomed to wining and dining. They were the professional, outspoken type of women, the ones who were quick to rattle off how independent they were while snapping their necks and popping their lips.

  “Thanks,” Shayla said, turning red in the face.

  “You’re welcome.” Carter examined her for a moment, wishing he had the power to read her mind, to extract everything she knew about his brother from it. In essence, they could help each other. He could help her get back on her feet while she unknowingly helped him gain some closure in his brother’s death. “Before you were homeless, how was your life?” he asked, with the intention on redirecting the conversation to Jacob.

  “I…I,” Shayla said, then began coughing hard, so violently, she threw up the little bit of eggs she’d eaten.

  Carter jumped out of the chair and rushed to her side. “Hey, you okay?”

  She continued coughing and brought her right hand up to cover her mouth.

  Carter rushed out in the hallway and yelled for a nurse. A pack of them came running, increasing the panic in the room.

  Carter by Shayla’s side again, felt faint to see blood ooze out of her mouth. He held her hand and began to say the same things he said to her when he first found her on the street – that everything was going to be okay and to hang on.

  Shayla’s eyes had turned a bloodshot red and she turned to look at Carter as if to say this was it, that she was dying and she was secretly thanking him for all he’d done for her up until this point.

  “Shayla, hang on, sweetie. Hang on.”

  Shayla could see the despair in his eyes, but couldn’t clearly hear a word he spoke. Unstable, her eyes closed and opened repeatedly for a few seconds until they finally closed, the heart monitor beeping out of control.

  Carter took a step back while the nurses worked to stabilize her. One called for a doctor. Another cleaned blood from her face and mouth to make sure she wasn’t biting her tongue, while nurse number three grabbed a pan and held it to her mouth.

  “What’s going on?” Carter asked, his heart thudding as he glanced at the heart monitor. “Is she okay?”

  Instead of answering him, one of the nurses escorted him to a nearby waiting area. Before she ran off, Carter asked, “Why can’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m not quite certain right now, Sir, but we will continue working to stabilize her and one of us will let you know when it’s okay to go back in her room. Okay?”

  “Yeah…” Carter said, watching the nurse leave. He sat down, stood up, then sat down again, looking sadly towards the floor and fighting back tears. This was his fault. If he would’ve only obeyed the final wish of his brother, the wish that was so clearly spelled out for him, Shayla would be the same ‘beautiful doll’ as Jacob had described her in his suicide note. Now she was sick, with pneumonia and bronchitis, having a hard time breathing and struggling to stay alive.

  Tears escaped his eyes and Carter let himself cry for the first time since Jacob’s suicide eight month’s ago – all those horrible feelings coming back now. He hastily smudged the tears away with th
e backside of his hand, paced the floor of the waiting room, smacked the cement wall with an open hand, leaning his forehead against it. He sat down for second, covered his eyes and stood up again, pacing the waiting area, his hands in his pockets; a few people staring, feeling sympathy for his suffering.

  He sat down again, took a photo of Jacob from his wallet and said, “I’m sorry lil’ brother. I’m so sorry.” He wiped his eyes using the backsides of his hands before rushing to a nearby bathroom to clean himself up. He needed to be strong for Shayla, since she couldn’t do it for herself. He owed it to her and to his brother. It was too late to save Jacob. He prayed it wasn’t too late for Shayla.

  Chapter 7

  Very early the following morning, around 6:00 a.m. or so, the nurse walked in the waiting room, saw Carter slouched over, his body taking up two chairs. She tapped his shoulder.

  He jumped, startled by her touch. He quickly opened his eyes, looked at her and said, “Is she okay?” he asked, his heart thumping.

  “She’s okay, Mr. Williams. You’re welcome to go see her now.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” Carter said, rubbing his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He stepped in the bathroom to splash cold water on his face again. Then he walked down the well-lit hallway towards Shayla’s room.

  He pushed the door open slowly, saw her resting comfortably. The beeps of the monitors made him feel nervous and anxious – fear that he would lose her somehow even after she appeared to be stable. He sat on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall, noticing a clip-like device secured to the index finger of her right hand, a pulse oximeter, measuring her oxygen level. She had an oxygen mask on this time, too, and though Carter understood it was helping her, it made her appear sicker. Her skin, though clean now, looked dry. Her lips still chapped. Her eyelids a noticeable reddish shade. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes again, even paying more attention to the scratches on her face and arms. Carter held her hand, thinking about all the ways he would make her life better. She deserved so much more than this.

  He felt her hand squeeze his just barely. He waited for her eyes to open but they didn’t.

  “Good morning,” he said anyway. He watched her flash a short, lazy smile behind the mask – the kind of smile a person flashes when you know they’re in pain but want to give off the impression that they are fine.

  “You gave me quite the scare yesterday,” Carter said, using his index finger to softly stroke the side of her face. “I didn’t think you were gonna make it the way the nurses ambushed you...had me worried.”

  Shayla recalled pieces of what happened the day prior, but didn’t say a word about it. She was too tired to even think about it.

  “Um…they’re gonna be here with your breakfast soon…then you have to get another breathing treatment.”

  Carter leaned closer to Shayla, so close, she could feel his warm exhales against her cheek. “Can you talk to me?” he asked sincerely.

  Shayla said nothing. Her eyes remained closed.

  “Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me if you can.” He pushed his lips against her dry cheek.

  Shayla squeezed his hand a bit tighter at the warm feel of his lips. She opened her eyes, stared into his, trying to determine the veracity behind his stares. He was mere inches away from her face. And what did he think of her? He was a well-groomed businessman with the features of an ‘A’ list celebrity – a regal nose, dazzling eyes, healthy skin and moisturized lips. She, on the other hand, was a complete mess, poor, homeless, just downright disgusting.

  “Are you from Charlotte?” he asked looking into her eyes, trying to initiate small talk.

  Shayla’s eyes rolled from his eyes and down to his lips. She noticed the bit of hair underneath the bottom one. Must’ve been some style thing, she assumed, but it looked nice. Suited him to a tee.

  “Well?” he said.

  “Why’d you kiss me?” she inquired.

  Why did I kiss her, Carter thought. “I just want you to know I’m here for you, now can you tell me where you’re from?”

  “As far as I know, I was born and raised here…at least that’s what my grandmother told me.” She yawned, stretched her arms up in the air slowly, trying not to disturb the IV.

  “Where are your folks?” Carter asked, stroking her hair.

  Shayla shrugged. “My Mother died when I was young. My Grandma told me she had some kinda heart problem. I don’t know my Father. My Grandma was all the family I had and she died a few years ago.”

  Shayla felt a sense of relief offloading this information on to him, but also didn’t see the relevance. If he wanted to take care of her, why did he need to know about her relatives and life history? What was his intentions?

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Carter said playing with her fingers now, individually fiddling with each one. He was about to ask another question before the nurse barged in the room to check her vitals.

  Carter watched as the nurse strapped the blood pressure cuff on her arm again for the umpteenth time. He asked if her blood pressure was okay. The nurse told him it was a little low but not too low. She proceeded to check Shayla’s temperature. It was 96.7 degrees.

  “Why’s her temperature low?” Carter inquired.

  “She’s still recovering from the hypothermia.”

  “Well can you bring some extra blankets for her? Make her more comfortable? Warmer?”

  “Sure can…be right back with some.”

  The nurse darted out quickly and sure enough, came back with two beige blankets.

  “Thank you,” Carter told her.

  “Welcome, Sir. Anything else you need, just let me know.”

  As soon as the nurse left the room, the food service worker was coming by with breakfast. Carter rolled her tray table to the bed, instructed the worker to set the food tray on the table. He thanked her before she left the room.

  “Here, let me help you,” he told Shayla, assisting her with removing the oxygen mask. “Did they say it was okay for you to take off the mask?”

  “Yeah. The nurse said I could for breakfast.”

  “You want to sit up a lil’ more?”

  “Yeah.”

  Carter pressed the head-up button, elevating her into more of a sitting position.

  Once she was up high enough, Shayla sipped the orange juice but didn’t touch her breakfast – grits, a toast, some eggs and a little packet of grape jelly.

  “Do you feel like your appetite is getting any better?” Carter asked, since noticing she still seemed disinterested in the food.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How can you not be sure? Either you want to eat or you don’t. Simple as that.”

  “Well, no, I don’t feel like eating right now.”

  Carter sighed. “You want me to run down to the deli to get you something?”

  “No, I—”

  “Okay, well try something on your tray, Shayla.”

  Shayla gave Carter a hard glance and said, “Okay. I will try to eat a little.”

  He seemed happy with that so she continued, “I know you might think I should gobble this whole plate down in a matter of minutes…you know, after being homeless and all.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m thinking.” Carter stared into her coffee brown eyes.

  “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?”

  “That’s not how I’m looking at you, sweetie. I’m just concerned,” Carter said, thinking this was the perfect time to tell her Jacob was his brother. That in some weird serendipitous way, the universe made him find her and vice versa. She was more apart of his life than she could ever begin to imagine.

  “What are you concerned about?” Shayla asked, stubbornly biting into a piece of raisin toast.

  “You,” he said pointedly and thought to himself that the only other woman he’d ever been concerned about was his mother. “You’re not trying to eat and if you don’t eat, it’s gonna take lon
ger for you to get better, Shayla.”

  “I am trying…see,” she mumbled with a mouthful of bread, biting another piece not necessarily because she wanted it, but to prove her point. To show her willingness to assist in her own well-being.

  “Okay. That’s all I ask.” Carter stood, slid his hands in the pockets of his day-old jeans and paced the floor in front of the windows, looking at the view of trees, buildings and cars, flashes of his mother and brother racing through his mind like a slideshow. He turned around, jiggled some change in his pocket and asked, “Have you ever wished you could freeze time?”

  “What?” Shayla mumbled.

  “You know…when you’re doing something you love or at a place so beautiful, you want to stop time, or in other words, make what you’re doing at that precise moment last forever.”

  “Um…” Shayla drawled, trying to think of something.

  Carter continued, “For example, for me, that would be standing on the beach with my Mother. I must’ve been ten, maybe eleven at the time, standing on a beach in the Outer Banks, smelling the fresh air, admiring the blue water. I loved it when we were a family, when things weren’t so hectic and it was the little things that mattered.” Carter realized that most of their family trouble started when his mother began putting more focus on money and material pursuits than the happiness of the family. Children are not born desiring money and pursuing riches. They are taught that through heavy commercialism and their guardians. Children are a product of what they learn from their parents.

  Unfortunately, Mama Lenora ascertained that Carter was the loyal son, the one who would pursue profitable jobs and strive for wealth while Jacob was more content like his father.

  “What about you?” He walked to the bed and sat next to her again. “You have any moments you wish you could box up forever?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, when she did know. She was at her happiest when she and Jacob were first engaged. They would spend time watching movies, taking strolls down inner city Charlotte streets – Trade, Tryon, Central Avenue – holding hands, frequenting parks and enjoying Charlotte’s vibrant night life as a newly engaged couple. “Why is your favorite frozen time when you were with your mom? At age eleven? Nothing good has happened to you since then?”