Accidental Deception

by Tina Martin

  “Oh. So that’s why you had my vase at the sink…trying to arrange the flowers.”

  “Yeah, and adding fresh water. You see how that turned out.”

  They both laughed, then Carter said, “If you want, I can reach out to some of my contacts to see if maybe I can find some classes for you.”

  “Classes?”

  “Yeah. I gotta imagine there are all types of classes on flower arrangements, design and stuff like that. I can see what’s out there…help you get enrolled.”

  Shayla sat up to look at him and staring in his eyes, she asked, “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course I would. I’m going to help you in any and every way I can. I promised you that.”

  She frowned. “Why?” That was the question of the hour. This man had moved her in his place, bought clothes for her and now he wanted to find her some classes on flower arrangements so that she could get a job and possibly follow her dream. What was in this for him? Did people still help their fellow human out of the goodness of their hearts? Or was there a catch, and if so, what was it? She had nothing to offer him. So what would be his payback?

  “You deserve it.”

  “But—”

  “Shay, just know I’m taking care of you now, okay. I want to. It’s not a problem.”

  Shayla laid her head against his chest again, puzzled, wanting to ask why a second time, but when someone is offering you assistance, is it really necessary to know why they are doing it? Does knowing make the recipient feel better about accepting the hospitality of another person?

  Carter thought about what he told her, that he would help her in every way he could. His guilt-ridden conscience would see to it she had everything she needed. That’s how it was supposed to be since the day Jacob died. Jacob wanted him to take over, to give Shayla a better life. It was spelled out so plainly in his suicide note:

  All I ask is that you take care of my sweet Shayla. She loved me, I know she did, but she deserves a lot more than what I was able to give her…

  Chapter 13

  Shayla slowly woke up, in the middle of her bed, the sheets messy, the comforter barely covering her lower body. She adjusted her eyes to the morning sun then looked for Carter but instead found a note he’d written in a fancy cursive with a phone number that read: Call me when you wake up.

  She sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. It was a quarter past ten. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she stepped in his bedroom, took the cordless from the cradle and dialed the number he’d left for her.

  He picked up after the first ring. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Grinning, Shayla replied, “Um…sorry. I think I have the wrong number.”

  “You ain’t got the wrong number, girl.”

  Shayla blushed as if she was face-to-face with him.

  “So you just gettin’ up?” he asked. He secretly loved the sound of her morning voice. It was soothing and somewhat sensuous, though he knew she wasn’t trying to be. That made it even more entrancing.

  “Yeah. Where are you?”

  “I’m at work now…had an appointment with my optometrist earlier.”

  “Oh.”

  “I hated to leave you without saying bye, but you were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to wake you.” Carter thought of her resting as he prepared to leave this morning. He’d went to his bathroom to shower, threw a towel around his lower half, his hair still damp and sauntered to her room to check on her. She was sleeping so soundly, he leaned closer to make sure she was still breathing.

  “You could have woke me up.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want to.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said blushing even harder. “So how did it go?”

  “How’d what go?”

  “Your visit to the eye doctor.”

  “Oh,” Carter said, not used to anyone checking up on his well being. “Um, it was pretty routine…ordered another pair of glasses…more contacts. Anyway, listen, I’m gonna be here for a lil’ while longer so if you need anything I want you to call me, ‘kay?”

  “Carter, I’m not going to disturb you at work,” Shayla said with a small giggle. “I’ll manage.”

  “Shay…” Carter said, tapping a pen against his desk, irritated that she wasn’t taking him seriously.

  “Yeah?”

  “All kidding aside, if you need anything call me. Okay?”

  “Aw’right, Carter.”

  “By the way…I fixed some breakfast for you. It’s on the kitchen table. Don’t forget to take your meds, and I mean it Shay, if you need anything, call me.”

  “I will.”

  “Ah’ight. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home.” Carter glanced at his watch, trying to estimate in his mind what time that might be.

  “Okay. See ya later.”

  “Later.”

  Shayla set the phone in its cradle, took a shower, and made her way downstairs for breakfast. Carter had prepared some eggs again, toast and a few pieces of sausage.

  * * *

  Sitting at his desk perplexed, Carter thought about what he’d learned last night from Shayla – that his brother was seeing a therapist. He considered calling them. Maybe he could get some information about Jacob – his personal thoughts and feelings – the reason why he decided to end his life. Was it really because of their strained relationship? His animosity towards their mother? Or was he buried in debt, and since life had become too difficult, death was his only way out?

  Carter opened a web browser on his computer and searched for Charlotte Psychotherapy Associates. He dialed the number and waited for someone to answer.

  “Charlotte Psychotherapy Associates…how may I assist you?”

  “Ah…yeah…I need to talk to someone about my brother. I think he was a patient there.”

  “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t give out any information on our patients.”

  “I need to know what his state of mind was…my brother committed suicide and he was seeing one of the therapists there. Can you please tell me something?”

  “Sir, I’m very sorry for your loss, I truly am, but patient information is strictly confidential and protected under Federal laws.”

  “Ah’ight. Thank you for your time.” Carter dropped the phone on his desk and leaned back in his chair. He’d come so close, but still very far from knowing his own brother. He had to find out more from Shayla.

  Later that afternoon, Carter was back at home, searching for Shayla as soon as he stepped in the foyer.

  “Shay,” he said loudly, his voice filling every room in the house.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the family room.”

  Shayla listened as his footsteps crept closer.

  Carter peeped around the door.

  “You found me,” she told him. She was lying on the couch, her legs crossed at her ankles. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a white cashmere sweater.

  “Somebody looks comfortable,” Carter observed.

  “I am.” Shayla’s eyes followed him as he walked in, loosening his neck tie.

  “So how did everything go today?” he asked her, lifting her legs then lowering her feet into his lap after he’d sat. “I was a little worried to leave you by yourself.”

  Shayla glanced at him, watching as he held her feet there in his lap. What was he doing?

  “Shay?” he said, then squeezed one of her big toes.

  “Huh?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “How did it go today?”

  “Everything was fine. Nothing happened. And thanks for the breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And I’ve been thinking about last night,” Shayla continued. “I’m sorry I was crying on you and um…making a mess. I’ll never do that again. I feel so stupid.”

  “Sweetie, don’t worry about that.”

  “But I know I drooled on you, Carter.”

  “Yeah, you did actually.” He c
huckled. “But honestly, I’m glad you’re opening up to me.” He looked at her thick socks, tried to tickle her toes through them.

  “What are you doing?” Shayla said giggling and squirming. “Carter, stop it.”

  He laughed at her. “Okay. I’ll stop,” he said, but was tempted to do it again.

  “So where are your new glasses?” she asked, pulling her legs to her body, sitting in Indian style at the opposite end of the couch.

  He found her reservation appealing after she pulled her legs away from him. And why was she asking about his glasses? “Why?”

  “I wanna see you with them on.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do.”

  He looked at her with curiosity. “Be right back.”

  A few beats later, he stepped back in after taking the case from the desk in the foyer. He sat down again, closer to her this time, opened the black box and slid a pair of sleek, rimless Polo frames. “Well?”

  Goodness. A smile grew on Shayla’s face. “They look amazing on you.”

  “Amazing?” Carter said then laughed it off.

  “Yeah. Why are you laughing?”

  “Nothing.”

  Shayla pulled the glasses from his eyes. “You got the contacts in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of wearing ‘em?”

  “Well, I need to be able to see…so…”

  Shayla slapped his knee. “Why haven’t you tried the laser surgery? It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

  “I’m not too thrilled about people playing around with my eyes like that.”

  Shayla placed the glasses back in the case and closed it.

  “Well, I’m gonna go change clothes so I can take you to dinner, Ms. Shayla.”

  “Huh?” she asked, frowning. Was she hearing things, or did he just ask her out to dinner?

  “I said, I’m gonna go change clothes so I can take you to dinner.”

  “You wanna take me to dinner? Like out in public?” She asked in disbelief. She thought Carter to be a man who was mostly concerned with his appearance and what people thought of him and there would be all kind of whispers if he was seen with her around Charlotte. Granted she wasn’t dreadful looking, but she was no beauty queen. And he looked like the type of man who wanted a supermodel strapped to his arm.

  “Yeah.” Carter squinted at her. “Like out in public,” he repeated with a wicked smile. “Is there a problem with that?”

  “Can’t we eat something here? I’ll cook if you want me to.”

  “We could eat something here, but I want to take you out. Why do you look so scared?”

  “I’m not scared, I just…” Shayla stopped short of saying she wasn’t ready to go out yet. She didn’t feel like herself without Jacob and it would be embarrassing not only for her, but for Carter, if she slipped up and started wailing at the dinner table. And she was sure she didn’t fit the description of the women Carter would normally take on dinner dates.

  Carter wrapped his arms around her and shook her playfully. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  “Okay,” Shayla said reluctantly. How could she say no?

  Carter stood and stretched. “I’ll be right back. You want me to bring your shoes down?”

  “No, I’ll go get ‘em.”

  Shayla followed him upstairs, and on to her room. She slid her feet into some black boots, threw on a coat and walked back to his room. Standing at his door, she watched him pull a burgundy Polo over his head, and down his muscular frame. He’d already had on a pair of dark blue Levi’s.

  He turned towards the door and saw her staring. “That was quick,” he said smiling. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  They walked downstairs together and once outside, Carter opened the passenger door to the Lexus, allowing her to get in. He walked around the car, opened the driver door and sat next to her. “You ever eaten at Carrabba’s?”

  “No. Heard of it before and rode pass a few times, but never stopped. Italian, right?”

  “Yep, and it’s not far from here. You like Italian food?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well you’ll love this place.” He closed her door, then walked around to the driver side, got in and backed out into the street.

  Shayla was quiet as they drove and after only ten minutes, Carter turned in the parking lot, found a parking stall, shutting off the engine. Unlatching his seatbelt, he watched Shayla for a moment. She was staring out the window as if completely unaware they’d arrived at their destination.

  Carter touched her arm. “Come on. Let’s go in,” but didn’t expect he would startle her. She trembled at his touch, then apologized for being so jumpy.

  A waiter showed them to a table and as Carter got comfortable, he noticed how reserved Shayla had become. She was out of her element and not comfortable in her own skin.

  “Don’t clam up on me,” he said looking at her sitting opposite of him. “Everything’s fine, sweetie.”

  The waiter asked what they wanted to order for drinks. Still staring at Shayla, Carter waited for her to say what she wanted, but she said nothing. She was staring down at her lap. Physically she was there, but her mind was absent from it all.

  “Ah…she’ll have water and I’ll have a Sprite. And for an appetizer, can you bring a regular size calamari with marinara sauce, please?”

  “Yep…be right back.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Carter looked at Shayla again. She was sitting in the same position, her head bowed, staring at her lap. “Shayla.”

  She looked up at him, a tear traveling the length of her face from her right eye.

  Carter sighed. Now he knew why she didn’t want to leave the house. “Sweetheart, I just want you to be happy, and I’m trying my best but—”

  “It’s not your fault. I just think about Jacob and I can’t shake it. I love him so much.”

  Carter stood, walked over and sat next to her. “Well, you’ve been through too much to be sitting here crying like this.” He brushed tears away from her face.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize for your feelings. Just try for once to be happy.”

  “I do try.”

  “Then try harder. I know it’s not easy, and I know this…going out to dinner…might be a stretch for you, but you need to start slowly putting the pieces of your life back together. You can’t do that by staying hidden. You have to get back out there…reinvent yourself.”

  Shayla took a napkin and dabbed her eyes.

  He palmed her thigh. “You understand what I mean?”

  She nodded, still in tears. “I understand you, yes, but I’m not sure if you understand my position. I have nothing, Carter. I don’t have a family, children, Jacob…nothing. So what’s the point? Why am I here? To be miserable? I have no one to live for.”

  “Then live for me,” he said looking in her eyes. He watched her look out the window, turning away from him. “You hear me?”

  She nodded again.

  “Look at me.”

  She wiped her eyes again before turning to face him.

  “Can you try to have a lil’ fun with me this evening?”

  She shrugged and wiped her eyes again. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “I’ma hold you to that.”

  The waiter showed up with the calamari, set it in the center of the table along with their drinks, then rushed off.

  “Um, Carter, can you let me out?” Shayla asked. “I need to run to the bathroom.”

  “Sure.” Carter scooted over, then stood to let her by.

  He looked her up and down as she walked away. Even though she was a pretty woman, nothing about her screamed confidence. She was existing but not living, not caring about anything, behaving like a person who had lost their passion, drive and spirit. The mere sight of her smiling gave him hope that she was capable of turning the current state of her life around into something better.

  When she was finally out o
f sight, he took a piece of calamari, dipped it in the marinara sauce and tossed it in his mouth. He looked around the restaurant and spotted a group of women staring at him – nothing out of the ordinary. He was used to attention from the ladies, though sometimes, it was a bit of a nuisance. This was one of those times. He looked away but could see one of them approaching via his peripheral.

  “Hey,” she said a big, sneaky grin on her face.

  “Hi.”

  “My girl over there, the one in the black shirt, wanted me to give you her number.”

  Carter looked over at the woman. She was pretty, with flowing cinnamon hair, a pretty smile, and from what he could see, a nice body. But had those women not seen a woman with him already? Or did they assume Shayla wasn’t his girl because she wasn’t dressed-to-kill like they were? Didn’t look the part? If he and Shayla were a couple, had these hoochies deemed her not good enough for him?

  “Tell her I’m taken,” he said, then resumed eating.

  The girl walked away giggling.

  Shayla was still in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She dashed more cold water on her face, took some paper towels and dabbed her eyes. Then she closed them, inhaled deeply and exhaled, telling herself it was okay, that she could get through dinner without crying over Jacob yet again. That she could be happy for one evening per Carter’s request.

  She wound some tissue from the roll and as she was about to blow her nose, blood oozed from both nostrils. She grabbed more paper towels, wet them then held them in front of her nose with her head tilted up towards the ceiling. She repeated this several times until the bleeding finally stopped, then cleaned herself up again, wetting yet another paper towel to make sure her face was clean. Looking in the mirror for final inspection, she noticed that there were a few drops of blood on her white sweater. She wet some tissue, dabbed the spots, but only made the stain worse. There was no way she could hide it from Carter, unless she crossed her arms. And that’s what she did as she approached the booth, rejoining him at the table.

  “Thought I was gonna have to come looking for you.” He stepped out from the booth so she could scoot pass and sit next to him again. “You okay?”