Surrender to You

by Shawntelle Madison

  Mr. Denis thanked me for my help and ended the call. I had a few minutes to take a breather before I had to fetch him.

  “Who are the bigwigs this time?” Yolanda asked me between phone calls. She was on her break and eating the most delicious-smelling pack of powdered donuts.

  “More businessmen. This time from Canada.” I played with the phone cord to distract myself.

  “Are you all right?” Yolanda asked me with a grin.

  “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

  “You seem nervous for some reason.” Her grin was sly.

  “Oh, stop it. I just have a lot on my mind today.”

  “Yeah, a lot on your mind.” She hopped back to do a jump shot into a bag.

  “I’ve seen you work a lot and you seem so cool and relaxed. It’s rather scary, if I think about it.” She leaned in, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Seeing you lose your cool is kinda refreshing.”

  Had I been that obvious? I straightened my back. “Let’s just get this done so we can have some lunch. I’m about to tackle one of those cardboard sandwiches the staff abandoned in the break room.”

  After I fetched Mr. Denis from his suite on the thirty-ninth floor, we arrived to the conference room where many of the other guests had already assembled.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” I asked him in French, hoping I hadn’t messed up any words.

  “No, thank you.” He left my side to greet the other buyers from his team. I looked over the room. Most of the executives from Gold Bridge Construction had the same look. The stiff collars and confident expressions. I walked through the room and checked the beverage and lunch tables to make sure everything was in place. All I had to do was sweep the room and make sure everyone had what they needed and then I could go.

  Then I noticed him standing across the room. He was beautiful, practically a lion among his pride. He stood with two buyers discussing the many features of the hotel. None of them included Dante’s Second Floor, but what he said reflected his pride. Just listening to him added a glow into my body. If he moved me so much, how come I felt this way? Why was I ready to bolt and run away? Just thinking about our time together in his office still made my stomach quiver.

  The group he was with headed toward the beverage table. He separated briefly from them to speak to the lady manning the table. He walked right past me without saying a word. At other times, he at least acknowledged me, but this time, nothing.

  A lump formed in my throat and I tried to swallow it down.

  Isn’t this what you wanted, Carlie? Our intimate moments would stay locked away. Also, I wasn’t willing to give in to him, and this was exactly what I needed—a boundary he didn’t cross.

  I scanned the room and smoothed down my skirt. The body language of everyone in the room comforted me. No one needed me.

  Not even him.

  Chapter 18

  Carlie

  Thankfully, I had the next day off. I’d scheduled myself off ahead of time so I could venture out again with Carver to check out the lead on another Patricia Hall.

  This time he picked me up at my apartment around ten in the morning. Any earlier and I would’ve been comatose.

  The inside of his SUV smelled like coffee and candy.

  “Hey, Jason,” he said. “I got you some coffee.”

  The aroma was wonderful. “I didn’t know what you liked so I grabbed a bunch of creamers and sugars.”

  “You got enough sugar here to bake a cake.” I chuckled and added a creamer and sugar to my hazelnut coffee.

  “I needed some, too.”

  I feigned glancing at my watch. “So how long do I have until you go into diabetic shock?”

  “I’m doing pretty good today.”

  My smile faltered. He hadn’t been around the last few days. “Has something come up or…?”

  “I was in the hospital for a bit. Not too long.” He flashed me a beautiful smile and I had to grin in return.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Drinking that green stuff every day only goes so far.”

  “True that.”

  “I’ve been working long hours, and that shit catches up with you eventually. My doctor says I will be out of commission for a while since I need more testing.”

  “And you’re out with me today? What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not an invalid. I just need to take care of my body.”

  “Hence long trips to Dante’s Second Floor for people-watching.”

  “Exactly.”

  I groaned. “Where are we going?”

  “Cleveland Circle. My lookout told me she showed up a few days ago. She hadn’t been home since then. He said she looked—a bit ill.”

  “Ill?”

  “Yeah, like she’d been sick.”

  “That’s not good.”

  Just like last time, my heart was deep in my throat, even to the point when we pulled up to the brown brick two-story home. Was this the place where my mom lived? I tried not to get my hopes up. I was in a better place compared to last time.

  Carver took the lead and walked up to the door. He knocked a few times, but no one showed up. Finally, after a few minutes, a woman opened the door. She looked nothing like me, though. Her hair was coffee-colored and her skin tone was a few shades darker.

  She smiled at Carver. “Can I help you? Sorry it took me so long.”

  “I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’re looking for Patricia Hall.”

  “That’s me.” Concern lined her features.

  “My client is looking for a relative and, well, we’re so sorry to disturb you today.” He took a step back.

  “Wait a minute,” the woman said. She peeked at me as I stood on the sidewalk. My heartbeat grew painful. “You’re looking for Patty, right? About the height of that girl there, same face?”

  I hurried to the door. “Yes, I am. That’s my mom.”

  The woman laughed a bit and she leaned on the door. “I can’t stand up too long, but you can come in for a bit if you like.”

  “We can wait here. We don’t want to intrude,” Carver said.

  “Don’t worry. Ace trusts you.” I peered behind Patricia and saw a huge German shepherd. The dog wagged his tail.

  We walked into the small house and Carver closed the door behind him. The place was sparsely furnished and newspapers were scattered across one of the blue couches.

  “The home care lady isn’t coming until tomorrow so you’ll have to pardon my mess.”

  “No problem.” I picked up the newspapers and placed them into a pile. My hands were shaking the whole time.

  “So you know a Patricia Hall who looks like my client, Ms. Jason?” Carver began.

  “Yeah, I get chemotherapy every two weeks at the medical center north of here. A few months ago, I happened to notice that the lady sitting next to me had the same name.” Patricia smiled. “We always joked to the nurses that they better not mess up our meds.”

  Oh no.

  “A cancer center.” My voice sounded hollow.

  Patricia nodded. “I shouldn’t be spreading Patty’s business to strangers, but yes, she has cancer. She looks just like you, though. It’s the eyes and the face. I knew the moment I saw you that you’re related to her.”

  “My mom gave me up and left me in a foster home.”

  “And now you’re looking for her,” Patricia finished.

  I nodded, unsure what I could say to get Patricia to give me more information. I opened my mouth again, but Carver spoke first.

  “If you wouldn’t mind telling us where you’re treated, we can look on our own. We don’t want to put you in a position.”

  “I don’t mind. Patty’s always come by herself. You see, my son or my daughter-in-law takes me to chemo, but Patty was always alone. That bothered me to no end. It seemed like she was holding something dark inside, and no matter how much I prayed for her, she seemed withdrawn.”

  “Cancer can do that to people. My best friend died from leukemia when
I was a kid,” Carver said.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Patricia sighed. “Every two weeks I saw her at the Blessed Faith Medical Center.”

  “So we might find her there?” I asked, eager to see her and find out if she’d be well or not. Please let her be better.

  “Not anymore, honey. Patty told me two weeks ago she was going in for bowel surgery. She’s likely still in the hospital. As for her current condition, I don’t know.”

  Chapter 19

  Carlie

  In all my dreams, I was standing in a park next to my mother and we were feeding bread to the ducks. The wind off the bay brought crisp air, but my mother shielded me from the worst of it. Winter was coming, but I had nothing to fear.

  Instead of that fantasy though, I was sitting at my desk, feeling like I was a leaf about to be separated from the tree I clung to.

  Yesterday, Carver had said, “If you give me about twenty-four hours, I can use my resources to find out where she is.”

  I didn’t remember nodding. It didn’t matter, though. I would’ve gone room to room if necessary. Especially now that I was so close to finding her.

  As promised, while I was at work, my phone dinged with a new text: Crestwood Memorial, room 4608. Take things slow. Tell anyone who asks that you’re her daughter from out of town & you found out she had surgery. Good luck, Jason.

  Carver had done it!

  I nearly dropped the phone. I was that overwhelmed.

  Somehow, I stumbled to the elevator and hurried up to Tomas’s office. He was inside and didn’t say anything when I drew his arms around me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I am now,” I murmured.

  When I pulled away, he didn’t say anything, only holding on to my hand until I let go of him. I wanted to tell him everything, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Recharged,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

  I couldn’t keep doing this to him. I couldn’t do this to myself, either.

  I tried to escape, but he held on to me.

  “You’ve been keeping things from me. What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

  I tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t budge. I bit my lower lip and my chin quivered. Not now, Carlie.

  I refused to turn around and have him see me like this, but instead of letting me walk away, like a jerk his grip grew stronger. Tomas pulled me into his arms, even when I stiffened.

  “What’s wrong, Carlie?” he asked again. Much more softly this time.

  My teeth gnashed together and all burdens slowly ebbed away. The walls I surrounded myself with crashed down into crumble. I’d told him I didn’t need him anymore and here I was, clinging to him as if I was a ship seeking a safe harbor.

  Owing you anything is a burden I’m not too good at carrying.

  Why had I said that to him?

  “I found her.” My voice wasn’t mine. I’d been hollowed out too many times.

  “Your mom?”

  “Yeah.” That was all I could manage to say. As much as I didn’t want to rest my head on his chest, I did. This was the place I wanted to be right now. I could give in this one time.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Did she reject you?” His voice hardened.

  I shook my head. “It’s not like that. She’s…in the hospital. She just had surgery for bowel cancer.”

  He cursed against the top of my head. “She gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t even gone yet.”

  He pulled back to cup my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a job—I just found out.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He wiped my tears off my cheeks. After he did that, I wanted to hold him even longer. “Thank you,” I managed.

  “How about you take a breather, and then we’ll go see her.”

  It wasn’t a question. He had declared his intention to go with me.

  “I can’t have you do that. You have buyers coming today.”

  “I did have buyers coming today.”

  —

  The last time I was in a hospital, I was there for the results of my celiac test. Just like in the U.K., hospitals were dry, sterile places you never wanted to visit.

  Crestwood Memorial felt that way, but this time I wasn’t alone. Tomas walked beside me. The feeling was strange, but I welcomed it. Our hands brushed a few times, but when I tried to move mine away, he took it and squeezed it.

  “I-I’m fine,” I stammered.

  “I know.”

  We didn’t say much on the way up to room 4608. Tomas wasn’t much for small talk and this time I appreciated it. My hands were sweaty and the sour feeling in my stomach heightened with each floor we passed. The moment was coming and I was scared shitless.

  All this time, I’d expected to see a woman standing in the flesh behind a closed door. She was supposed to invite me into her home and we’d catch up over tea. But instead, I was walking down a quiet hallway with open doors and nurses sitting quietly at stations.

  Take it slow, Carver had said.

  Instead of hurrying, I crept up to the doorway and took a deep breath. There would be no mishaps this time. Someone was lying in the bed. I walked inside, my chest swelling with pain from my held breath.

  “Hello?” I whispered.

  There was no reply. I walked farther inside and realized the patient in the bed was sleeping. The woman who was my mother lay still in the bed, her face ashen among her wrinkles and lines. A feeding tube circled her ear and ran into her nose. I could see myself, even in her withered appearance. Cancer had siphoned away the life from her limbs. The only sound in the room was her quiet breathing and the steady beeps of the machinery monitoring her well-being.

  Somehow, I willed my feet to take a step closer. The pressure of Tomas’s hand on my back faded away. Three more feet. Then two.

  By the time I placed my hands on the railing, my legs were numb.

  Her hands were so small, but her fingers were long—just like mine.

  I waited, glancing at the doorway to make sure no one was coming. How could I steal this moment?

  Tomas stood by the far wall, his face encouraging.

  I reached for her hand, expecting the skin to be cold, but her hand was quite warm.

  “Hello,” I somehow whispered.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but I started when someone spoke to me. “Can I help you?”

  The nurse looked at me with concern.

  My mouth flapped a bit before I spoke. “I’m her daughter.”

  The concern on the nurse’s face flared before she peered at me closer. “She’s not accepting visitors right now post-surgery.”

  “I-I’m sorry.” I probably sounded like a babbling fool.

  Tomas stepped forward. “Ms. Jason just heard about her mother’s procedure, so she came here to check on her well-being.”

  “I see. So far Patty hasn’t had any visitors.”

  “My mom and I are estranged.” That was putting it lightly.

  Tomas placed his hand on my shoulder. “We came to check on her. Is she receiving all the care she needs?”

  “I can’t share too much with you until I get permission from Patty, but she is resting comfortably.”

  I nodded, a bit reassured.

  “Thanks.” Tomas asked a few questions. All of them simple and nonintrusive. With that stolen minute, I continued to take in her face. Every single feature I locked away in my mind. I’d found her. I’d finally found her.

  I wiped away my tears and turned away.

  “How soon can she come back to check on her mother?” Tomas asked.

  “In a day or two, she should be up. After the procedure, we want to make sure there are no concerns.”

  He nodded.

  Reluctantly, I left the room with Tomas, but I’d be back soon enough.

  Chapter 20

  Tomas

  Watching Carlie look at her mother for the fi
rst time was an experience I’d never forget. Seeing her tremble with fear made me want to protect her and make that moment perfect.

  I stood in front of the window at my penthouse, looking over the Boston skyline. So far all the lights had yet to give me any answers.

  This was all supposed to be so simple. That had been my thought when I hired someone to retrieve the address for Frank and Patricia Hall, but apparently the place was abandoned. So far Carlie had done a fine job of searching on her own. She’d refused to tell me how she learned her father was dead and how she found her mom, though.

  It didn’t matter, though. Her mother had cancer and had had surgery to remove part of her bowel. Helping Mrs. Hall was all that mattered.

  Using my resources—even if Carlie didn’t want my help—a colleague of mine at the hospital gave me some additional details. I hesitated twice before I called her up. She’d want to know—even if she didn’t want my help. The phone was merely a communication tool for booty calls.

  “Is this a bad time?” I asked.

  She drew in a deep breath and the groaning sounds of springs in a couch drifted through the phone. “No, it isn’t. What’s up?”

  “I got some info from a friend of mine at the hospital.”

  “What did you learn?”

  Not the best news. “Patty Hall is a patient of the state, and so far she’s been moving in the slow-cranking system we call public healthcare.”

  I almost felt her grimace before she spoke. “Ugh. Fuck. She probably had to wait for surgery.”

  I sat down in my seat. “How are you feeling?”

  “A bit tired.”

  Tired from seeing her mom, or maybe she was tired from having celiac disease. I’d learned a lot the night of Carlie’s birthday. Before paying for their meal at the restaurant, I’d caught news I hadn’t ever expected to hear. After a bit of digging, I’d learned a lot about Carlie’s condition. The need to confront her about keeping secrets circled my tongue, but she’d been through enough today. At least a few boundaries had been broken between us.

  “Have you eaten?” I finally asked.

  “I will when I get hungry. I kinda let my fridge end up on E.”