by Tina Martin
Beaming, Carter said, “Sure, there’s been good times, but I can honestly say that on the beach that day was the only time I seen my Mother genuinely happy which is kinda amazing since we were broke back then. But she was truly happy. Later on in life, when the money came, her happiness vanished…and ah…she passed a few months ago.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Shayla took a sip of water. “And to answer your question, I don’t have any moments like that.”
“Oh come on,” he said and just then, a nurse came in the room to give Shayla another breathing treatment. Shayla was relieved that she didn’t have to come up with a beautiful moment to share with Carter, but she also knew he wouldn’t forget this conversation.
So after the nurse left the room (roughly ten minutes later) Carter poked Shayla’s forearm with his index finger and said, “Tell me.”
Shayla sighed loudly. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You’ve never had that perfect, happy moment in your life?”
“I have, but I haven’t been happy in a long time,” Shayla said, her eyes watering.
“Okay, so you must look back on moments in your life and—”
“No…no I don’t,” Shayla said cutting him off and feeling pressured. Of course she looked back at happy times in her life and reminisced. It was those memories that helped her keep her life together. That helped her to stay focused on her life and legacy.
Carter sighed. “I’m just trying to get acquainted with you,” he added, when really, he was trying to get her to talk about Jacob again. He wanted to learn more about his deceased brother. He wanted to know everything she knew. Everything.
“You know enough about me already.” Shayla turned her back to him.
“Like what? Your first and last name?”
“No…like I’m a homeless bum with nowhere to go. Why are you even here, Carter?” she said turning around to face him. “You don’t even know me.”
Carter stood up, walked to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, staring at the back of her head. “I’m here because I want to be here. I told you that.”
“Why? ‘Cause you feel sorry for me?”
“Yeah. I feel sorry for you. Does that make me a bad person? Because I can sympathize with your situation?”
“You can sympathize? How? Number one…you don’t know me, and number two…I’m willing to bet whatever little bit of life I have left in me that you’ve never been homeless. So how exactly is it you know what I’m going through? You don’t know anything about me.”
I know you used to be engaged to my brother, is what he wanted to say, but he held it in. Instead, he kept his cool and said, “I’ma go and get some air.”
He walked away from the bed and out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
Shayla closed her eyes after he shut the door behind him, wondering what she was trying to accomplish by being argumentative with the one and only person in the world who actually seemed to care about her. Who cares if they didn’t know each other? Carter was her lifeline – not the hospital, heart monitor, IV and nurses. Carter was her way out of a life of misery and from her impression of him, he had everything she needed to get back on her feet and rid her mind of all the painful memories that burdened her heart. She remembered the day that changed her life forever:
Jacob got up earlier than usual the next morning and dressed quickly. He assumed Shayla was asleep but she was pretending; wanting to monitor his actions without his knowledge – secretly seeking answers for his odd behavior. He’d grabbed his briefcase and without even kissing her cheek, he was out the door.
Shayla jumped out of bed right after he left, scrambled through his closet for clues, looking for anything peculiar. Maybe he was cheating on her, she began thinking. That would explain his distance.
She checked his shirt collars for lipstick. Nothing. She checked his pockets for phone numbers. Nothing. She went through every suit jacket, checking the inner breast pockets of every coat and then she found something, a business card. She pulled it out, looked at it.
“Charlotte Psychotherapy Associates?” she read aloud. “Why would he be seeing a therapist?”
She was tempted to call his cell to ask him about it. Instead, she withheld her discovery. She would take this up with him face-to-face. Over dinner, maybe.
On her drive home from a staffing agency, she felt confident that she’d figured out a way to approach him about it – a way that would avoid an argument. She would be patient with him, and caring. She would ask him first if there was something he needed to tell her and then if he evaded her question (and she already knew he would), she would show him the card, tell him she found it in his pocket and that she needed answers.
Shayla pulled up in the driveway, surprised to see Jacob was home before her. He usually wasn’t home until seven. She glanced at her watch. It was 5:32 p.m.
She took her purse from the passenger seat and headed for the front door.
“Jacob,” she called out as she took the first few steps into the living room. Something didn’t feel right. His briefcase was left near the front door, next to the umbrella rack. Jacob always took his briefcase upstairs. Always.
She peeped in the kitchen, he wasn’t there either.
“Jacob,” she called out to him again.
No answer. Just silence. An eerie silence. But maybe he was sleeping.
She climbed the stairs, stepped in the bedroom. “Jacob, baby, you in here?”
He wasn’t there either.
She continued down the hallway to the bathroom and tapped on the closed door. “Jacob...Jacob, you in there, babe?”
Silence.
She turned the knob, testing to see if the door was locked. It wasn’t. She pushed the door open. Her eyes grew big with what she saw. She was so distraught, it felt like daggers were being thrown to her heart. She panted, threw her right hand to her mouth while heavy tears fell from her eyes. She was witnessing a real life nightmare…
Chapter 8
Shayla sighed, closed her eyes and yawned. She was growing sick of lying in the hospital bed like a log – sunk into a damp, muddy ground. Unmovable. Dead weight. The beeps and low undertones of hospital equipment was enough to drive anyone crazy – not to mention the plethora of nurses marching in and out of her room like a high school band, and the squeaky wheels on the food cart that was due to come by any minute for dinner service.
The double tap at the door grabbed her attention. She thought it might be Carter, that is until she heard those annoying wheels – sounded like sewer rats fighting for territory.
“Here’s your dinner,” the woman said.
Shayla recognized her from last night. She glanced at her name badge. “Thank you, Gloria.”
“Oh, you’re certainly welcome, Ms. Kline,” Gloria responded with a pleasant, warm expression on her face.
Shayla sat up a little, adjusted the bed to support her back with the press of a button, and took the top off of her plate. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, candied yams and string beans – that was her dinner, similar to the last real meal she had back in December at a shelter. It looked good, but she lacked the enthusiasm to eat. It was as if her brain was telling her she was hungry one minute and full the next. If Carter was there or her country nurse, they would be telling her to eat something. So Shayla picked up the fork, jabbed a bean but didn’t bother tasting it. She was confused – about eating, being homeless, being sick and trying to heal – everything was too much to deal with.
What’s wrong with me, she thought and as she tried to figure it out, tears ran down her cheek. She wiped her eyes and gasped for air.
“Is it that bad?” Carter said as he walked in Shayla’s room. “I know hospital food is questionable sometimes but jeez.” He chuckled a bit.
“I’m so sorry, Carter,” Shayla said breathless.
“For what?”
“For getting upset with you earlier.”
“Oh, that’s nothing sweetie,” he said si
tting in what had become his favorite chair. “I work in the banking industry. I encounter pissed off people all the time. Your lil’ temper tantrum is like a sweet morning breeze compared to what I have to deal with on a consistent basis.”
Shayla grinned, wiped her eyes again and bit a piece of turkey. “I’m usually not like that. I just—”
“No need to explain. I have a tendency to force people to tell me what I want to hear, so I’m sorry if I was pushing you too hard. I have to get out of the corporate mindset and remember I’m dealing with a lady.”
A lady, Shayla thought. She couldn’t remember the last time someone called her a lady. She certainly didn’t feel like a lady. A lady is a woman with a high social status, who was well spoken, polite and refined, and while Shayla was kind, she was in no way distinguished, especially in this condition.
“It’s okay,” Shayla told him. She was just glad he came back.
“You sure, ‘cause I’ll be glad to spank myself right here in front of you,” Carter said with a straight face then cracked a small smirk when he saw her smiling.
At that moment, Shayla felt comfortable with opening up to him, to let him peer into her screwed-up life. What would she have to lose by confiding in him? She took a deep breath, relaxed her soul and said, “My fiancé’s name was Jacob Dempsey. My happiest moments in life were with him.” She swallowed hard. This wasn’t easy for her to say, but once she got the words out, she felt a strange sense of accomplishment.
Carter frowned slightly as he remembered getting the call that his brother was dead. It all felt surreal – like a bad dream, but this wasn’t anything he could wake up from. This was real life. Losing a family member, a brother, was rough. It was especially difficult due to their nonexistent relationship. Then a few months later, his mother died too.
“Carter, did you hear me?”
“Oh…um, yeah. I heard you. So things didn’t work out, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said were, so I assume things didn’t work out,” Carter said, already knowing the answer to his question but wanted details from her. He needed to know more about her life with Jacob.
Shayla hesitated to comment any further and Carter picked up on it right away.
“You know, Shayla, if you’re going to be living with me, we gotta get to know each other. So how about this...I’ll give you the run down on me then you can tell me more about yourself, okay?”
“Okay.”
Carter cleared his voice as if it was necessary and said, “My full name is Carter Syler Williams. Try saying that three times fast. Ah...I’m thirty-five…slightly germaphobic and a neat freak…well not a neat freak, but disorganization bothers me. I’ve never been married, never been in a serious relationship, never been in love. I’ve lived alone since I was eighteen. I have no siblings. I don’t have kids, actually I don’t think I want kids and lastly, I’m one hundred percent committed to my career. I’m President of Global Banking at one of the major banks here.” Carter felt a tad bit uneasy for lying about being an only child, but for years he didn’t have a relationship with Jacob, so he felt like an only child. Still, it was a lie.
“You’ve never been in love?”
Carter grinned. “After everything I said, that’s the only thing you heard?”
“Not the only thing. I’m gonna touch on that middle name of yours too, but you’ve never been in love? That’s shocking.”
“Why’s that shocking?” Carter asked, fully interested in her answer.
“I mean, you seem to have it all together. How could a man like you escape the pool of women out there looking for handsome, briefcase-toting husbands, Mr. President?”
Carter laughed at her question then said, “Guess I’m not husband material.”
“Oh, so women can tell you’re not husband material just by looking at you?” Shayla tasted the yams while watching Carter for his reaction to her question.
“Well, no, but if we go out, they’ll definitely know before the date is over.”
Shayla frowned a little at his direct answer and said, “I don’t believe a word you’re saying. You look like husband material.”
“Trust me. I’m not,” Carter said matter of factly.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s just the way it is, sweetie.”
Shayla set her fork in her plate and looked at Carter. “Wrong answer,” she replied.
She watched Carter flash the most amazing smile she’d ever seen on a man, even more dazzling, bright and intriguing than Jacob’s. Then he said, “What do you mean ‘wrong answer’?”
“Your vague response is not an acceptable answer to my direct question.”
“Oh, wow. Okay, well…um…” Carter said fishing for a good answer. “I’ll put it like this…some men can settle down, get married and have a family, but not me. I’m not wired like that. Besides, I like my life simple and easy. Women tend to complicate things.”
“So when you date a woman—”
“I make it clear upfront that I’m not looking for a relationship and if we hit it off from there, which we usually do, she gives me what I want and I give her what she wants.”
“And this is purely physical?”
“Yeah, well except for kissing.”
Shayla released a yeah-right smacking noise with her mouth.
“I’m serious,” Carter affirmed. “The closest I’ve come to kissing any woman is giving you mouth-to-mouth.”
“Oh,” Shayla said, shyly looking away from him. “Why haven’t you kissed anyone? Because of the whole germaphobe thing, because if that’s the case, you would’ve never given me CPR.”
“It’s not a phobia thing…just too intimate for my taste. I don’t want women to think I want more, so I don’t lead them on that way.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, getting back to the whole dating thing…I think that if I’m honest with the woman upfront then we both know what to expect and my life remains simple and drama-free.”
“If you say so…” Shayla picked up her spoon and tasted the mashed potatoes.
“You disagree?”
“Very much so…sounds like a life of chaos to me.”
“How you figure?”
“Well, as a woman, I know that even though a woman might agree to go out with you after you’ve given her the rundown of your so-called no strings attached policy, in the back of her mind, she’s still hoping she would be that woman to make you change your mind…make you settle down and actually love her.”
Carter furrowed his brows, impressed by her synopsis. Shayla was right. Every woman he dated “loosely” thought she might be the one to make him settle down. Carter wasn’t having it, and whenever a woman started to catch feelings, he moved on to the next one.
“Am I right?” Shayla asked. “I know I am…when a woman actually begins having feelings for you, you push her away.”
Carter grinned, didn’t confirm or deny her story.
“You’re the kind of man that sees women as objects,” she asserted before she even realized what she said.
“No. That’s not true. Not true at all. I don’t take advantage of women.”
“Seems that way.”
Carter ran his hand over his mouth and said, “Okay, let me break it down for you…I never had a desire for a family because growing up, my family was…uh…in shambles. So business was all I had. And with a successful job came money. And, of course, with money came women.”
“What do you mean, of course?”
“I’m just sayin’…you know how y’all do.” Carter laughed.
“Oh, now I’m a gold digger too?” Shayla asked, smiling hard.
“I’m not talking about you specifically, sweetie.” Carter swept her hair in a backward motion. “But honestly, most women only want me for my money, not an actual relationship, which suits me fine because I don’t want a relationship. Even the few women who were actually feeling me on a relationship-type level didn’
t have what it takes to make me love them.”
“What does it take?” Shayla studied him for an answer.
He thought for a moment and even in quietness, he couldn’t come up with an answer for her. Instead he asked, “So what’s the story with you and Jacob?”
Shayla glanced at Carter, not knowing where to begin. Then she remembered how faint she felt when she opened the bathroom door that day:
“Jacob!” she called out to him, falling to her knees and shaking him, trying to wake him up. He was lying there, in the fetal position, wearing only a pair of boxers. Empty pill bottles were scattered about on the floor next to his lifeless body. Shayla grew numb, in shock, but had enough control of the situation to dial 9-1-1. She cried out for Jacob, calling his name over-and-over, hoping that by some miracle, he was not dead…that when help arrived, he would be revived back to life. She cried out to the operator that he wasn’t moving, that he was just lying there on the floor. The operator instructed her to begin CPR. Shayla was unsure exactly how it was done, but she’d seen it done enough times on TV. So she flipped Jacob over onto his back and began compressions, but she knew it was too late. He was already gone.
Help arrived moments later. She let the paramedics take over. They worked hard, trying to save a life, performing CPR, using a defibrillator while Shayla stood off behind them and prayed. She knew it was too late. She could feel death in the room.
Jacob, her fiancé, the love of her life, was dead.
* * *
“Oh, now you get quiet.” Carter said, diverting her from her nightmarish daydream.
“I was just…um…it’s just a touchy subject, but since you shared your wild bachelor, playboy life with me, Syler, I guess I can talk about it.” Shayla grinned.
“You gon’ pick on my name now?” Carter said, beaming. He liked that she had a playful side.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. Syler just sounds funny…like the name of an English bulldog or something.”
