Shark Out of Water (12 page)

Chapter 14

Absolument

Stepping out of his car, Guy watched Charlotte do the same. He had followed her, at her request, back to her flat. Why he did so was something of a mystery. Charlotte had offered no explanation after telling Guy there was something else she needed to tell him. She simply asked him to follow her home so she could explain.

Even now, as they stood on the street, Charlotte balked at giving him any hints. “Follow me,” was all she said. She did, at least, wait for Guy and walk with him up to the main entrance.

The building’s classic architecture spoke of a past century. It was clearly a remnant of an older time, but remained solid and well cared for. The neighborhood surrounding it was pleasant and seemed safe, which pleased Guy. It was not enough to occupy his mind as Charlotte unlocked the main door and gestured for him to enter. These were not the circumstances he had envisioned when previously considering being asked up to Charlotte’s flat. He followed her up the stairs regardless, anxious to know what she thought would change his mind.

Having realized Charlotte wanted distance from him until everything was in the clear, he had refrained from touching her. However, when she became noticeably tired after the first two flights of stairs, he put one hand under her elbow and the other around her side for support. She froze at his touch, but Guy saw in her eyes that it was more from worry than his nearness. He felt the same thing.

If Charlotte was already struggling to manage the stairs to her apartment before treatment even began, how did she hope to carry on when the chemotherapy made her too weak to get around? Guy’s concern grew with each step. By the time they made it to the door of her flat, Charlotte was clearly fatigued. It took her a moment to compose herself and unlock the door.

As soon as she did, high pitched squealing sounded through the flat. Guy’s attention was immediately drawn toward the sound as his arm tightened around Charlotte’s waist. She only smiled, her arms reaching out when a child came tearing around the corner and collided with her. The impact knocked her back into Guy, who was luckily still holding onto her, but she only laughed.

“Mommy!” the little boy cried. “You’re home!”

Guy held onto Charlotte while his head spun. She had a child? A million and one questions filled his mind, but before he had the opportunity to ask a single one, a teenage girl burst around the corner looking exhausted.

“Mrs. Brooks, I’m sorry. He heard the door being unlocked and just took off. I got caught up in the blanket fort we made and couldn’t stop him from running through the house.”

“It’s okay, Mindy. Don’t worry about it.” She glanced down at her son, who looked to be around five or six years old. She leveled a scolding finger at him. “Warren, you know better than to run inside the apartment.”

The little boy’s head dipped down in contrition, but the happy grin remained on his lips. He only held the pose for a few seconds before looking back up at his mother. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to Guy.

“This is my friend, Guy.”

Warren wrinkled his nose. “Gee? That’s a funny name.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte started to say something, but Guy held up a hand to cut her off. He squatted down next to Warren. “It is funny, because it is French. All my words sound funny to people here.”

Warren peered up at his mother, likely trying to gauge her reaction so he could figure out if Guy was playing a trick on him or not. When he seemed confident that he was not being made fun of, he stared at Guy again. “Where did you come from?”

“I was born in France, but I live here in Chicago now.”

“Can you speak France?” Warren asked.

Guy smiled at his mistaken word choice. “
Oui, je parle très bien le Français.
”

Warren’s eyes lit up with excitement. He turned to his mother, tugging on the hand he still held. “Mom, did you hear that?”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “Why don’t you go help Mindy clean up the fort? It’s time for her to go home. I’m sure she’s tired after playing games with you all night.”

“Will you still be here when I’m done?” Warren asked Guy.

Guy and Charlotte exchanged glances, neither one sure, neither one wanting to speak for the other. After a moment of hesitation, Charlotte looked down to Warren and said, “That depends on how long it takes you to clean up.”

The sound of bare feet slapping against hard wood was all that was left of Warren as soon as the words left Charlotte’s mouth. Mindy laughed at his antics before turning to follow him. As soon as the two had disappeared, Guy turned to Charlotte, who instantly became defensive.

“Please, not yet,” she begged. “I haven’t told Mindy what’s going on yet. She only knows I haven’t been feeling well and I don’t want her to overhear anything. She’ll be very upset.”

“And Warren? He does not know?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t even know how to explain everything to him.”

Guy nodded slowly and reassured her he would not say anything. His thoughts were still racing, but he forced himself to settle on the sofa and wait. No matter how much he thought he had prepared for his confrontation with Charlotte, the discovery of Warren had completely caught him off guard. It terrified him. He had made his decision to stand by Charlotte through her illness despite how much that frightened him.

A child changed everything.

He would not just be committing to Charlotte, to her care, but to helping her with Warren and acting as a parent. Guy had no idea what that meant, or if he was even capable. A few hours a week playing with Lily in no way prepared him to take on the responsibility of a child whose only parent was about to face a tremendous challenge. This would not be trips to the zoo or bedtime stories. This would be infinitely more difficult.

Guy’s chest constricted as panic began to overcome him. He knew he was not fit to be a parent. Taking care of plants or cats was too much for him. He was on the verge of telling Charlotte she was right, that this was more than he could do without causing more hurt than help. His hands pressed into the sofa cushion, ready to propel him up to standing, but Charlotte pacing in front of him halted every thought but one.

If it was Carmody in the same situation, he would not hesitate, no matter how terrified or ill-prepared he felt. He could never walk away from any of his friends when they truly needed him. Charlotte would need so much over the course of her treatment. Warren would need even more. Yet…his hands relaxed and fell back to his side as he realized his fear was, for once, weaker than his compassion. Everything about the situation had him reeling, but walking away was not an option. It never had been.

Only minutes later, when Warren and Mindy came back to the living room, pronouncing the fort to be completely dismantled and put away, Guy took a deep breath. Warren seemed to have momentarily forgotten about Guy and his silly sounding words while he said goodbye to his babysitter
and clung to his mother. It was only after Mindy had been sent home—cash in hand—and Charlotte turned her attention back to Guy, that Warren remembered him as well.

“Is your name really Geeee,” Warren asked, stretching out his name as he jumped onto the sofa next to him.

“It is.”

“What does it mean?”

Guy smiled. “It means guide. You know what guide means?”

Screwing up his face in thought, Warren said, “That’s like the person who shows you where to go, right?” When Guy nodded, he grinned and bounced up and down a bit. “We had a guide at the museum. He told us about the dinosaurs. Do you know about dinosaurs?”

“Only a little,” Guy admitted with a laugh. Warren looked rather disappointed at that news, but forgot all about it when Charlotte joined them on the couch.

“It is past your bedtime, little man,” she said. Warren’s expression soured. As though she knew what was coming next, Charlotte began shaking her head. “No, you may not stay up any longer. You have school in the morning. Now, go put on your pajamas and brush your teeth. I’ll be in to say good night in a few minutes.”

Instead of arguing, Warren turned to Guy. “Will you be here in the morning?”

Trying not to laugh at his frank question, Guy avoided looking over at Charlotte, who seemed to be shaking her head in embarrassment. “I do not think so,” Guy told Warren. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought you could make me French toast in the morning if you were.” He squinted his eyes at Guy. “You
do
know about making French toast, right?”

“I know something about it,” Guy said, avoiding a direct answer. It seemed to please Warren, as he jumped off the couch and ran down the hall to prepare for bedtime. Guy then glanced over at Charlotte to confess. “I don’t actually know how to make French toast. Just so you know.”

Charlotte paused and stared at Guy. “Seriously? I’m not even French and I know how to make French toast. Besides, aren’t French guys supposed to be great chefs, making their dates beautiful dinners to win them over and all that?”

“This is a myth,” Guy said, laughing. “You would be lucky indeed to find a French man who can cook. The women are the chefs. Our mothers do the cooking.”

“That sounds terribly sexist,” Charlotte said.

Amused by her reaction, Guy reached out to Charlotte. She allowed him to pull her a little closer. “It is not sexist, it is tradition.”

“So you don’t know how to cook anything?”

“I would not say that exactly,” Guy hedged. “I have survived on my own the last few years. I am capable of making a few things.” When Charlotte gave him a skeptical look, he felt shame for his lack of domestic skills. He looked at Charlotte seriously and said, “I am not unwilling to learn.”

Charlotte tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. She started to say something, but Warren’s voice calling out from the hallway stopped her short. Instead of whatever she was going to say, she said, “Coming, little man.” She stood, slipping out of Guy’s grasp. She looked toward the hallway, but turned back to face Guy. “We need to talk, but let me tuck Warren in first.”

It was tempting to take the time to sit and consider everything Guy had learned that night. It was equally tempting to stay on the sofa and stare blankly at the wall. Guy was not about to do either. He stood, feeling suddenly nervous. “Would you… could I help you?”

Rather than answer, Charlotte slipped her hand into Guy’s. They walked down the hall to where Warren was laying on the floor, rolling back and forth impatiently. Guy and Lily had their own routine, but Guy stood back, watching Charlotte curl up with Warren on his bed as they read from his favorite book. It was a different dynamic than what he was used to. There was no joking or playing, but he was captivated by their sweet interactions. It was obvious to Guy how much Warren loved his mother. She was his whole world. He was affected deeply as Guy realized Warren could lose her. What would that do to such a young boy who adored his mother so much?

“Goodnight, Mr. Guy,” Warren said as Charlotte stood and walked toward the door. When Guy stepped forward to see around her, she surprised him by gesturing for him to continue.

Guy approached Warren’s bed and sat down on the edge. “
Bonne nuit
, Warren. I hope you have peaceful dreams tonight.”

Warren gave him a funny look, but said, “Well, I hope you make me French toast in the morning.”

His comment made Guy and Charlotte both laugh, though Charlotte’s laugh was tinged with trepidation. Guy ruffled Warren’s hair playfully and said he would do what he could about the French toast. He seemed satisfied with that answer and snuggled down in his blankets with a final goodnight to his mother.

The walk back to the living room felt longer than it should have to Guy. He was almost afraid to sit down next to Charlotte and face what she planned to say to him. If Charlotte did not want him to continue in her life, there was nothing he could do to change her mind.

Sitting down next to Guy, Charlotte looked worn out. She refused to let her weariness stop her from facing him squarely. “Warren is the biggest reason I went home to my parents last weekend,” she said. “Taking care of myself will be hard enough. How am I supposed to take care of Warren, too? Dr. Myles warned me that treatment for what I have can take up to two years before patients go into remission…if they go into remission. I don’t know how to do this without moving back home and letting my parents help me.”

“It does seem like the wisest choice,” Guy admitted. “That is what you wish to do?”

Charlotte’s head fell into her hands. “No.” She looked back up at Guy, her expression tortured. “I don’t want to leave my life here, or uproot Warren in the middle of the school year, or take him away from his friends and his home. I don’t want to have to move him again when this is all over. This is where our lives are. Warren loves his school. He loves Mindy. I love my job and I don’t want to give up on everything I’ve worked for here.”

“What do you do?” Guy asked.

For a moment, Charlotte was too off balance by the change in topics to answer. She shook her head a moment later and said, “I’m a graphic designer. I help design product packaging for companies.”