by Tina Martin
“How long ago was this? When Carter saved your life?”
“Back in February. I was homeless, living on the street and he stopped to help me. I had pneumonia, bronchitis and hypothermia…I was a mess.”
“Oh my…so you went to the hospital then?”
“Yeah.”
“So how’d you end up living with him?”
“Well, he stayed at the hospital with me. Told me he wanted me to live with him.”
“And you didn’t know him before any of this went down?”
Shayla shook her head. “No.”
“And you trusted him enough to go home with him?”
“I had nowhere else to go. It was either go with him, or back out to the streets or a shelter.”
“I see.”
“I think I made the right decision. I’ve been living with him for a couple of months now. He hasn’t done anything to harm me. I don’t think he ever would.”
“Wow. Must be an amazing man to take you in like that.” Dr. Westbrook watched a smile grow on Shayla’s face.
“Yeah. He’s a little cocky…and pushy…and bossy…and stern, but surprisingly, he’s quite the gentleman.”
Dr. Westbrook crossed her legs and noticed how Shayla’s demeanor had changed to a more cheery one when she spoke about Carter. She was itching to know more. “So how are your living arrangements?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, do you do things together?”
“Yeah,” Shayla said, wondering why the doctor shifted her focus towards Carter.
“Like what?”
Shayla grinned uncomfortably. “Um…”
“Do you watch movies together? Talk about your lives? Go out to dinner?”
“I talk in depth about my life…he doesn’t talk much about his. Oh, and we do watch movies together every now and then…eat lunch together…dinner…why?”
“I noticed that when I first asked you about him, Shayla, a glow came on your face.”
Shayla blushed. “I mean, he’s helped me a lot…he didn’t have to, but out of the goodness of his heart, he takes care of me.”
“Do you love him?” Dr. Westbrook asked and just as she did, they both heard taps at the door.
Carter walked in, suited up as usual. “Sorry I’m late. Sorry, Shayla.”
“Actually, Mr. Williams, we’re finished for the day.” Dr. Westbrook stood up and walked near Shayla.
Shayla stood too, told Carter the session went okay and they walked out of the door. Shayla looked back at Dr. Westbrook. “By the way, the answer to your question is yes.” She smiled at the doctor, waved and walked away.
Outside, Carter touched Shayla’s right shoulder. “Shay, I’m sorry. I know you were depending on me. I tried to get out of the office, but…” he sighed. “Things just kept holding me back.”
“Carter, it’s okay. I told you our session went fine.”
“I still feel bad though, and I gotta go back to work right now,” he said shaking his head. “I’m sorry baby.”
“Carter, don’t worry about it.” Shayla sat in the driver seat of the car now with the door ajar. “You go back to work, take care of business and I’ll fix us something for dinner tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Now go on.”
“Okay.” Carter shut the door. “I’ll catch up on your session over dinner tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Carter gave her a pat on the shoulder, then watched as she drove away.
* * *
Later that evening, Shayla prepared dinner. She’d cut up some lettuce, grape tomatoes, cucumbers, black olives, carrots and green bell peppers. Then she chopped up ham and the boiled eggs and tossed everything together with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing, took out some thick, white ceramic plates from the cupboard and two forks, placing everything on the table just so. She lit two white candles, turned on some soft music, grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet and a bottle of Chardonnay from the pantry. Carter was due home any minute, and after a stressful day, he would have a relaxing dinner with wine, soft jazz and candles.
Shayla rushed to the front door when she heard his keys. She unlocked the door before he had the chance to.
“Hey,” Carter said surprised, not expecting her to greet him at the door.
“Hey.”
Grinning, he said, “Were you standing here waiting for me to get home?”
“Yeah. I wanted to tell you to run upstairs, get comfy and join me in the kitchen for dinner, ‘kay?”
Carter squinted at her and dropped his keys on the desk. “What are you up to, Shayla?”
“I told you I was making dinner tonight.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.”
“So go get comfortable and come right back.”
“Ah’ight,” Carter said walking towards the staircase.
“And don’t be taking all day either, Carter. I know how you get down in the shower.”
“I’ll be no more than ten minutes. Promise.”
Shayla went back to the kitchen, took some shredded cheddar and sprinkled some in the salad. She grabbed some paper napkins and as she placed them on the table, Carter sauntered in.
“Wow. What’s all this?” he asked scanning the table.
Shayla looked him up and down. Had he really showered that fast? He wore some gray jogging pants (which apparently was his favorite type of pants to unwind in, even with summer approaching) and a white T-shirt. His hair appeared to be damp. He smelled of fresh soap.
“Sit down and relax,” Shayla told him. She watched Carter take a seat. “I know you had a rough day, so the candles are to help you relax…nothing romantic or anything like that.”
“You sure about that?” Carter asked slyly, biting his bottom lip. “Looks romantic to me.”
“Well, it’s not. They’re just to…look, I’ma blow ‘em out if you keep on.”
Shayla watched Carter laugh as she took the bowl of salad and put a good serving of it in his plate. She filled hers and sat down, taking the bottle of Chardonnay and serving Carter first. She went to pour some in her glass and Carter took the bottle. “Nope…not while you’re on meds.”
“Carter, a few sips ain’t gonna kill me.”
“Well, I’m not willing to take that risk.” Carter got up, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and set it on the table next to her plate. “That’s better for you.”
“Gee. Thanks.” Shayla took the water bottle from the table and unscrewed the top. “So tell me all about your day.”
“Been slammed with meetings all day…didn’t even make it to your session. Still can’t believe I missed it.”
“It’s nothing to beat yourself up about. Plus, I think it was good for me to experience that on my own. It’ll pay off in the long run. I mean, you’re not going to be there for every major breakthrough I have in life.”
“So you had a breakthrough?”
“Yeah. My session made me realize something today.”
“Oh yeah?” Carter said chewing, feeling his stomach churn at the possibility that Dr. Westbrook might’ve told Shayla about his relation to Jacob. Would she do something like that?
Shayla watched him for a moment, admiring how brilliant he was, how even when he rocked a five o’clock shadow, he was still a handsome powerhouse of a man – so strong and sophisticated.
“So tell me about it,” he said.
“Um…she told me I should hold on to the good times me and Jacob shared…said those will help me move on with my life and I completely understand and agree.”
“Hmm.”
“She pretty much told me the same thing you told me…that I can love Jacob for the life we had together, but it was dangerous for me to be in love with him because he can’t love me back.”
Carter nodded and took a sip of wine. “You tell her about the shop you’re volunteering at?”
“Yep. She was happy with that…said I needed to stay occupied.”
“Good.” Carter stabbed a few pieces of lettuce and tomatoes with his fork and took it to his mouth.
“Towards the end, we talked about you.”
“Really?”
“Un huh. She wanted to know how we met…how our living arrangements were. I don’t know why that was relevant to her but—”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her…you know…about our living arrangements. I mean, I didn’t go into detail or nothing, but she knows.”
“She knows what?” Carter asked, taking another fork full of salad to his mouth.
“That you saved my life...let me live with you.”
“Hmm,” Carter said. Even though Dr. Westbrook knew he was Jacob’s brother, she didn’t tell Shayla. He felt relieved. But there was still the possibility she’d tell her in a future visit, or pry even further into their lives. “Did she say why she asked about our living arrangements?”
“No. I guess it was just casual conversation.”
Carter finished his wine and poured another glass. “When we were leaving, you told her ‘the answer is yes’. What was that about?”
“Oh…nothing.” Shayla tried to disguise a smile.
He squinted at her. “You know I know when you’re hiding something from me.”
Beaming, Shayla said, “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Then why do you have that big, beautiful smile on your face, darling?” He took another sip, never taking his eyes off of her.
Blushing, Shayla looked down and stared at her salad plate.
“You’re not going to tell me?” he asked, finishing the second glass of wine. “I can get things out of you if need be.”
Shayla looked up at him again, studying his cute dimples, his mesmerizing brown eyes that she’d grown to love even more as the days progressed.
“Okay, okay.” She picked up a cucumber slice from her plate and took a bite from it. “She asked me if you were single.” It was a lie, of course, but she wanted to see Carter’s reaction to it.
Carter squinted at her again. “Nah… not buying it.”
“What? She did. Why wouldn’t she be interested in a fine fella like yourself?”
“Why wouldn’t you be interested in a fine fella like myself?” he challenged.
Shayla looked at him, saw the flames from the candles swaying in his eyes. Was he serious? “Whatever, Carter,” she said, dismissing his question. “Anywho, what should I tell her? You single?”
“Why you playing with me, Shay?”
“What? You didn’t think she was pretty?”
“Not as pretty as you,” he commented.
Shayla beamed, felt flutters in her stomach. “Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have anymore wine tonight.”
“What do you mean?” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin, never taking his eyes off of her.
“Uh…um…nevermind,” Shayla said. Two compliments in less than five minutes – Carter was on a roll. But were they legitimate compliments? Did he really think she was pretty?
Carter forked a grape tomato. “So seriously, what did she ask you?”
“Wow. This is really bothering you isn’t it?” Shayla willed herself not to laugh. “I’ve never seen you obsess over anything.”
“I’m not obsessing,” Carter countered.
“Okay, well you’re dwelling on it.”
“I just wanna know.” Carter wiped his mouth again. “I’m also a little interested in why you’re being so secretive about it.”
Shayla continued eating, ignoring him.
“Shayla.”
Shayla cracked a smile, then giggled hard like she was the one that had been drinking wine. “Yes?”
“What did she ask you?”
“Gosh, I can’t believe you’re gonna make me say this.”
“Say what?”
Shayla took a sip of water and braced herself. “Okay.” She blew a breath, calmed herself. “Um, she asked me…” She paused when she felt butterflies tickle her insides. Could she really say this to him? “Um, she asked me if I loved you.”
Shayla resumed eating, refusing to make eye contact with Carter after her confession.
Carter sat back in his chair and watched her. Did he hear her correctly? Or did he have too many glasses of wine? “Wait…she asked you if you loved me?”
“Un huh.”
“And you said yes?”
Shayla dropped her fork, courageously looking up at him. “Yep. I said yes.”
“Hmm…” Carter said staring at her, looking mildly amused.
“What?”
With a smug smile on his face, he said, “How long have you known this…that you love me?”
“Gosh,” Shayla said blushing. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, seriously.”
“You’re not serious…you’re picking on me. You can’t even wipe that grin from your face.”
Carter tried his best to hide his smile. It just wasn’t happening. “I am serious, because if that’s true, and you really love me, then why you tell her how you feel about me, but not mention a word to me about it?”
Shayla shrugged, watched the dimples at the edge of his smile then stood up to collect their plates. She placed them in the sink and with her back turned to Carter said, “I guess it’s kinda embarrassing.” She turned on the faucet, rinsed the plates, preparing them for the dishwasher.
Carter walked over near her, standing immediately behind her as she rinsed dishes. He locked his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulders. “I suppose you’re right.” He turned off the faucet, then clutched her again, his lips brushing against her cheek. “It would be embarrassing, but only if the other person didn’t feel the same way.”
Shayla turned around to look at him. “Carter—”
Before she could speak another word, Carter sealed her lips with his, cupping the back of her head, her curly strands swinging. For that moment, he owned her lips and her mind. Not only did Shayla feel her stomach tighten and legs go weak, but she also felt the honesty in his touch and though she knew Carter may have been truthful, that he did love her, she also discerned he didn’t say it forthright. It was all done covertly. When it really came down to matters of the heart, was implied love the same as defined, explicated love? Or is love expressed more by actions than words?
Chapter 20
“Shayla, do you mind watering the flowers out front,” Rebecca, the flower shop owner told her. She was a Caucasian woman, in her late twenties with blonde hair laced with a few streaks of brown. The freckles on her cheeks made her appear younger than she actually was.
Shayla noticed that since she’d been working there, Rebecca had the habit of walking on the backs of her tennis shoes, wearing them like slip-on sandals instead of sneakers. Around her waist, she wore a fanny pack that was filled with florist tools – a knife, scissors, a stapler, pencil, even had a small roll of wire.
“Just the flowers in the front?” Shayla asked for clarification.
“Yep. Just a misting should do the trick.”
“Okey dokey,” Shayla responded, cheerfully. She had just finished arranging a bouquet of yellow roses for Carter and had them delivered to him. Feeling especially happy and excited today, she walked outside and turned on the spigot. She picked the hose and pressed the nozzle to spray the plants, admiring the different colors and watching a few customers enter the store. She smiled as they passed then resumed watering.
About ten minutes later, she stepped back inside. There were about five customers in the store. Some were browsing and a couple of folks were standing at the counter, waiting to be helped.
“Rebecca,” Shayla said discreetly, watching Rebecca tie a bow around a bouquet of roses for a young gentleman. “Let me know whose next.”
“Could you please assist the woman over? Her name’s Jacqueline. She’s one of my regulars…don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Sure. No problem.” Shayla walked over ne
ar the woman, noticing her beautiful hair and tall stature. She guessed her to be in her late fifties, or even early sixties with the streaks of grey hair mixed with her black strands. She was elegant.
“Hi,” Shayla said, greeting her with a warm smile. That’s how Rebecca told her to greet all the customers. Said that customer service was the reason she was still in business.
“Well, hi there,” the woman said back. “You must be new.”
“Yeah. I’m helping Rebecca out for a while.”
“Good. She gon’ need it this time of year, honey.”
Shayla smiled. “I’m Shayla, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you Shayla. I’m Jacqueline. Jacqueline Williams.”
“Good to meet you as well, Ms. Williams.” Shayla wondered if Jacqueline could’ve been related to Carter. But then again, there must’ve been a plethora of ‘Williams’ in Charlotte, and just because they all had the same last name didn’t mean they were related.
“Darling, you can just call me Jackie.”
“Okay. So how can I help you today, Jackie?”
The woman sighed. “Just making my monthly trip to buy a bouquet of pink roses.”
“You love roses, huh?”
“Well, my sister did. She once said they were the most elegant flower in the world. Pink roses.” Jacqueline shook her head and released a deep, worrisome sigh. “She passed last year, so I come here to buy flowers for her grave.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Shayla said, while thinking how she’d never have the courage to leave flowers on Jacob’s grave, let alone visit his grave. “Um, how does Rebecca usually do that for you?”
“Well, she puts them in a vase with a little water so I can carry them out. You don’t have to do anything fancy to ‘em, sugar.”
“Aw’right. I’ll fix them up like she does. Be right back.” Shayla walked to the back of the shop, picked the best-looking pink roses she could find, twelve of them, and brought them back to the counter were Jacqueline was standing. She went back to get a vase, ran a little water in it and joined Jacqueline again. Picking up the roses one-by-one and arranging them neatly in the vase, she said, “Your sister was lucky to have a sister like you. This is a beautiful thing you’re doing for her.”
“Thank you, hun.”
