Accidental Deception

by Tina Martin

  Carter chuckled while watching Shayla’s lips form to a smile.

  “So, anyway, back to me…Jacob and I were engaged, we were happy, in love and all that other mushy stuff you apparently know nothing about. But things went downhill with us when he lost his job. He was depressed and bitter. Then I got laid off and that only exacerbated the situation. We struggled financially for a while and as a result, our relationship slowly began to fall apart and one day, I came home after an all-day job search to find him lying lifeless on the bathroom floor. He had ah…he overdosed on some pills. I called 9-1-1, but it was too late.”

  Carter’s heart raced as he listened to Shayla tell the story. “So he was already dead when you found him?” he asked feeling sad but trying to mask his feelings in front of her.

  “Yeah,” Shayla said just barely, withholding tears. “He didn’t have pulse. I did call 9-1-1, and I tried to revive him but it was too late. When the paramedics got there, they tried too, but I knew he wasn’t coming back. I just cried, and cried and cried.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Carter said throaty.

  She dabbed the corner of her eyes, preventing the tears from flowing. Then she said, “Um…as for other stuff about me, I’m twenty six.”

  “Twenty-six? You look younger.”

  “I think I know how old I am, Carter.” Shayla grinned again. But the smiles were only a mask to cover what she was really feeling as she relived the details of Jacob’s suicide.

  “Okay…” Carter said raising his palms. “I’m just saying that I would’ve guessed younger. Most women would take that as a compliment.”

  “Well, I take it as you trying to be nice. I don’t need the flattery.”

  “I’m by no means trying to butter you up, sweetie. I was just making an observation. You do look younger than twenty-six.”

  “Yeah, probably because I’m so frail, weak and unkempt.”

  “So how did you survive on the street?”

  Shayla shrugged. “Did I survive? Look at me.”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? Breathing?”

  “Just barely, and I’m still gonna have to resort to staying at shelters and begging people for money until I can find a job. Life is so difficult and painful, almost not worth living.”

  “Life is difficult, but sometimes we need to go through different situations to help refine us and mold us into the person we will become, the person we need to be.”

  “So I was supposed to go through the death of my fiancé and be homeless for months to help me be a better person?”

  “No. I’m saying when things happen we push through, survive them and move on while allowing those experiences to mold us.”

  Shayla nodded.

  “And as for you staying at shelters and begging for money – never again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m gonna take care of you…make sure you have everything you need.”

  “Why?” Shayla asked frowning.

  “Because Syler has a heart.”

  Shayla beamed, watching him stand to stretch his fit body.

  “Are you done with your tray?”

  “I guess so.” Shayla had eaten most of her food this time. “Yeah. I’m done.”

  Carter took the tray and set it on the counter next to the flowers he’d bought, before sitting next to Shayla on the bed.

  “You tired?” he asked, adjusting the blankets that were spread over her, fluffing her pillows and making sure she was comfortable. He pressed the head-down button on the bed until it was reclined enough to her liking.

  “I’m always tired,” Shayla said through a yawn.

  “I’m a little tired myself.” He sat down, leaned back in the chair and let out a strong exhale.

  “Carter, I know you’re tired of sleeping on that chair. Why don’t you go home, sleep in your comfortable bed and if you still want to, you can come see me tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean ‘if I still want to’? What does that mean?” he asked sitting up.

  “Just…I just…I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to do this for me. I mean, I appreciate your generosity and everything you’ve done so far, but I’ll find a way to take care of myself.”

  Carter flashed back to her lying on the sidewalk, her body cold and shivering. She didn’t have the means to take care of herself. But he had everything. “What if something happens to you and I’m not here?”

  “Well, this is a hospital…”

  “Yeah, but I would feel better if I’m here watching over you.”

  “And I would feel better if you went home and had a good night’s rest.”

  “I’m not going home, Shayla,” he said defiantly.

  “Well, why don’t you see if they’ll bring you a cot or something? At least you could stretch out without having to be origami in that chair again tonight.”

  “Trust me…this chair is all they have,” Carter said stretching. “But it’s all good.”

  “Carter, I’m telling you…they have cots.”

  “How do you know?”

  “They have too, right? For people staying overnight? Families with young children?”

  “Shay, this isn’t the Ritz-Carlton.” Carter grinned, threw his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

  “I’ll ask the nurse.” Shayla pressed the red nurse-call button on her bed rail.

  “You called for a nurse,” a voice said on a speaker-type intercom.

  “Yes. Can you bring a cot to my room, please?”

  “Um, sure. We’ll have someone bring one momentarily.”

  “Thank you,” Shayla said, looking at Carter. “Told ya.”

  Moments later, one of the technicians wheeled in a twin-sized cot. It was a little small for Carter’s tall, athletic body, but still was better than being scrunched up in a chair all night.

  Carter folded it out, tested it, his feet dangling off the bed. “Ah…not bad.”

  “You can have one of my blankets if you want.”

  “I’m good.” He got off the cot and walked over to her. “You just rest…’kay?”

  “Okay,” Shayla said, yawning. She asked him for the time. He said it was a quarter past seven, but somehow it seemed later than that.

  Carter stood there, staring at her for a few moments more, imagining what her life was like with his brother. Was she happy? In love? Did they have plans for a family?

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” Shayla asked him.

  Carter blinked back to reality. “Oh, sorry…um…you know, they were talking about possibly releasing you tomorrow, since you’re doing a lot better.”

  “Really,” Shayla said yawning again, “Because no one told me.”

  “I overheard them in the hallway.”

  “Oh,” she said, and wiggled to get comfortable, closing her eyes.

  Carter watched her again, studying her. He could see her beauty beyond the scratches and other flaws. He could see the woman with whom his brother had fallen in love with. But then again, his brother wasn’t the type of man to go after a woman because of her physical attractiveness. There must’ve been something deeper he saw in her, something that amplified her beautifully to him in ways that not only made her physical appearance that much more striking, but also made it easier to fall in love with her. Maybe he could discern she had a heart of gold, that she would make an excellent mother, that she had a self-sacrificing spirit and would be the perfect woman to share a life with, to grow old with.

  “Can I ask you something, Shayla?”

  “Sure.” She opened her eyes.

  “Where would you go if you weren’t coming home with me?”

  “Who says I’m coming home with you?” she said with a smirk, then proceeded to say, “I don’t know…probably back out in the street somewhere…sleeping under an overpass.”

  “Never again,” he told her. “Even if I have to buy you a house…”

  Shayla squinted, gave him a yeah-right lo
ok, before closing her eyes.

  “Goodnight,” he told her then walked over to the cot and passed out a few minutes later, tired after another long day and glad he could finally stretch.

  Meanwhile, Shayla was having a hard time getting to sleep. Whenever she dozed off, she would remember something about Jacob:

  “What’s the time of death?” she recalled hearing one of the folks who’d barged into their condo ask. She was still sitting on the bathroom floor weeping, holding Jacob’s hand, not ready to let go of the fact that he was gone.

  Her mind was spinning, her thoughts clouded. This wasn’t happening, not to her. This wasn’t her life. She had to have been dreaming, just having a hard time waking up from unspeakable tragedy but the more she pinched herself, the more she realized this was no dream. This was real life. Jacob was dead and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it…

  * * *

  At midnight Carter stirred when he heard someone in the room. He opened his eyes, rubbed them and saw a nurse checking Shayla’s IV bags.

  “Excuse me,” Carter whispered to her from the cot.

  “Oh, yes Sir. Sorry if the noise woke you up. I was trying to be as quiet as possible. How can I help you?”

  “Um…Shayla told me her Mother had heart problems…was wondering if you guys checked her for that?”

  “Oh, yes Sir…when she first arrived and everything was fine. No heart problems.”

  “Okay. Good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy the rest of your night,” the nurse said then quickly exited.

  Carter stood, stretched and stepped in the bathroom for a second then walked over to inspect Shayla. She was sleeping, soundly. Quietly. Peacefully. He stared at her face. She was delicate, he realized, but even though she was sick, she was still dainty. Beautiful. He watched her chest rise and fall. She’s okay now, he told himself. He wanted to touch her hand, but was afraid he might wake her so he resisted. Her rest was important.

  Moments later he felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He checked the display, recognized the 757 Virginia area code and he knew it was Desiree, his last fling after Camille from three months ago, almost instantly reliving images from their only encounter. She had been staying at the Marriott, bumped into him on his lunch break at Just Fresh, a sandwich shop in Independence Center, the building across the street from his. She beamed at him when she first saw him and couldn’t take her eyes off of him no matter how hard she tried. He was tall, handsome and just plain gorgeous, she noticed. There was always something striking about seeing a fine man in a black suit – a man that was about his business – one who could handle the professional world while simultaneously maintaining his looks, health and swagger. She approached him, asked him if he lived in the area or if he was an out-of-towner like her. Carter told her he lived in Charlotte and the two had lunch together. They hooked up that same night.

  With his phone in hand, he stepped out in the hallway, not wanting to disturb Shayla.

  “Hello,” he answered.

  “Hey, sexy,” Desiree said. “You told me to hit you up when I was in town…well, I’m in town...at the Marriott again, same room as last time…and guess what I’m wearing…”

  “Um…Desiree, now is not a good time, okay. Actually never is a good time.”

  “Oh,” Desiree said caught off guard by his rejection. “You must be seeing someone, huh?”

  “No, I’m not. I just got a lot going on right now.”

  “Well, baby, I can help you clear your head if something’s bothering you,” Desiree said, being persistent. “Why don’t you come over? I won’t bite this time. Promise.”

  Carter sighed and said, “Listen, Desiree, you’re a pretty woman but I can’t do this with you, okay. I know I told you to call me, but that was three months ago. Things have changed, I’ve changed, and I don’t want you to call me anymore, ah’ight?”

  “Fine then,” Desiree said with an attitude. “There’s plenty more brothers who want this.”

  “Go holla at them then.” Carter pressed the end button on his phone.

  He stepped back in the room, looked over at Shayla again. She’d turned on her side, facing the wall now and he wondered during her transition, if she’d heard any of his phone conversation.

  Chapter 9

  Shayla sat on the edge of the bed the next morning, listening to the nurse give Carter discharge instructions, telling him how often she should take her medications and scribbling down a list of activities that were not acceptable for her at home. She said Shayla should take it easy the next few weeks. It would be crucial for her recovery.

  Carter nodded. “You hear that Shayla?” he said, but Shayla didn’t acknowledge him. He turned to look at her, watching her stare down at the floor or at her feet. He couldn’t tell which. Carter turned his attention back to the nurse.

  “Also Mr. Williams,” the nurse continued, “Ms. Kline does not have any insurance, or at least none that I’m aware of.”

  “I’ll take care of that. All the bills should come to this address.” He took the clipboard from her and scribbled his address on the top form.

  “Okay, well sign there next to the ‘X’ confirming you take financial responsibility.”

  Carter signed freely then looked at Shayla. “I know you’re ready to go home, sweetheart,” he said trying to keep up the charade that he was acquainted with her long before this incident occurred when in fact he hadn’t. They were still strangers in many ways.

  The nurse left the room with her clipboard after Carter signed his life away.

  “What you waiting on, hun?” he asked Shayla. She was still sitting on the bed, arms folded, staring down at the floor her body shivering a little, having come up from underneath the covers now.

  “Um…I don’t have any clothes,” Shayla told him.

  “Oh, what am I thinking? I brought you an outfit…think it’s in my bag. Hold on.”

  Carter lifted his bag from the floor and set it on the bed next to her. He unzipped it and took out some newly tagged jeans, a light purple cashmere sweater, white socks and some black snow boots.

  Handing her the clothes, he said, “I’m sorry if the pants are too big. I guessed you to be a size eight.”

  “I am a size eight…at least I used to be. I guess we’ll find out.” Shayla took the clothes from him, held them tightly to her side, keeping her gown in tact.

  Carter forced himself not to smile and said, “Oh, I bought a pack of panties too…where are they…” He rummaged around in the bag again, pulling out a pack of multi-colored cotton panties, size five.

  She took the items to the bathroom, shut the door behind her.

  “Don’t lock it,” Carter yelled. “Just in case.”

  “Okay,” she replied, laying her clothes on the edge of the bathtub.

  Standing in front of the mirror, she slowly removed her gown as if by seduction but in her case, fear – fear of what she might see underneath. She hadn’t seen herself naked in months. No doubt her body wasn’t the same as she remembered it, especially after enduring so much – things a woman dare not think about. She looked herself up and down, her breast smaller than she remembered them. Her stomach appeared to be sunken in a bit with purplish bruises below her right breast. Her legs were skinny and hairy.

  Back up to her face, she noticed a few scratches – one above her left eyebrow, the other next to her bottom lip. Her hair was so nappy, she wouldn’t even attempt to get a comb through it. It was dirty, and was in the same ponytail she put it in months ago.

  Shayla carefully inspected the rest of her body, noticing more scratches on her arms. Looking at her breasts again, she wondered if Carter hadn’t bothered to buy a bra for her since they were so small.

  She ripped open the package of panties, removing a sea green pair, stepped into them and pulled them up to her waist. They fit perfectly. She stepped one leg at a time in the jeans – they fit a little loose but she could get away with it without having
to wear a belt. The medium-sized sweater fit well, right over her bare A’s.

  “Shayla, you okay in there?” Carter asked tapping on the door with his knuckles, leaning his ear against it.

  “Um…ye…yeah…I’ll be out in a minute.” Shayla turned the hot water knob on the sink, held both hands under the stream of water and brought all she’d caught in her hands to her face. The warm water felt therapeutic to her hands, soothing to her dry face. She repeated this several times more, then took a paper towel and dabbed her face dry. She brushed her hand across her hair, could see clearly how dirty it was with the help of fluorescent lights. A good shampoo followed by a deep conditioner or hot oil treatment would make it vibrant again.

  She sat on the edge of the bathtub and took a sock, staring at her toes. Her toenails were awful, jagged and dirty. She remembered a time when she used to be able to afford at least one French pedicure a month. Now she was rocking bear claws. She slid on the socks anyway, just so she could get out of there. Carter was anxiously waiting right outside the door.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, feeling like a new person only because this was the first time in months that she actually had on clean clothes. It was a good feeling.

  Carter looked her up and down. “Wow…I actually get to see the real you. How tall are you anyway, shorty? Five-four? Five-five?”

  “I’m five-six,” Shayla responded. “You must be about six feet, huh?”

  “Actually, I’m six-two.”

  “Oh,” Shayla said staring at him. He had on a long-sleeved pink dress shirt with tan khakis and brown leather shoes.

  “You wanna put your shoes on?” he asked her.

  “Oh, yeah.” Shayla broke her trance with him then walked over to the bed. She sat down, lifted her right leg first and slid it in the boot. “Wow…they fit. How’d you know I wore size eight shoes?”

  Carter grinned. “Might sound a little peculiar but I measured your feet while you were sleeping.”

  At first, Shayla thought he was joking, but when he didn’t say otherwise, she believed him. He actually measured her feet. While she slept. She cringed at the thought of him seeing her feet up close. She hadn’t clipped her toenails since being homeless and per her own inspection a few minutes ago in the bathroom, she was in serious need of an emergency pedicure. He must have thought she was disgusting.