Time to Say Goodbye (Michigan Sweet Romance)

by Parker J Cole

  His lip curled. From his vantage point he could see illness had taken a toll on Kapoor’s body. The man’s chest heaved erratically. Sweat sheathed Kapoor in a layer of beaded moisture. Leon’s contempt ebbed away. He released a deep, gratifying sigh. Good.

  Wait, Kapoor was a convict. Where was the guard? Leon scanned the vicinity in vain for a uniformed sentry. What was going on?

  He returned his attention back to the scene unfolding before him. Kapoor’s sister stood next to the bed. Her hair blocked her face from his view. Her slender brown hand reached out to clasp Kapoor’s. The doctor stood on the other side of the bed, next to a monitor.

  “Did you run the blood work?” The blonde-haired woman inclined her head to an unseen person.

  “Yes,” a man’s voice answered. “The results haven’t come in yet.”

  “We need that blood work.” An impatient sigh escaped the woman’s lips.

  “Dr. Manchester, thank you for coming.” Kapoor’s sister placed the limp hand of her brother against her cheek. Leon suppressed an urge to gag. The man didn’t deserve affection of any kind.

  The doctor retrieved the computer tablet from a table off to the side. “Don’t mention it.” She punched on the surface.

  “What will the blood work tell us?”

  Leon took a furtive glance behind him to make sure the coast stayed clear. Certain he had yet to be discovered eavesdropping, he turned back to the conversation. He was all ears.

  “We’re performing serological blood tests to see if there are antibodies in his blood.”

  Leon arched his brow. Antibodies? Some type of infection?

  “And if you do find them?” Kapoor’s sister gently laid her brother’s hand back to his side.

  Dr. Manchester set the tablet down and went around the bed. “I need to show you this.”

  Leon huddled closer to the curtain, making sure his body didn’t brush against it. The doctor lifted the arm Kapoor’s sister had just placed there and pointed to a spot. “Do you see this?”

  “Yes. It’s a rash.”

  “The rash resembles a bull’s eye target. Notice the dark red center and the surrounding area circling it? This is indicative of Lyme disease.”

  Leon’s mouth dropped. How in the world did Kapoor get that?

  “How—?”

  “The disease is caused by a tick bite. Certain ticks carry bacteria that transmit the disease. The blood work will verify my diagnosis.”

  Kapoor’s sister’s shoulders quaked. Through her teary voice, Leon made out the words, “Why didn’t the prison doctor—?”

  “Miss Kapoor, Lyme disease is often misdiagnosed because it imitates other diseases. Think about it. The doctor, even your brother, believed he had the flu.”

  “Oh, dear God!”

  Footsteps and voices sounded behind him. Leon’s heart catapulted into his throat. He didn’t want to miss the good part, but for now—

  The voices faded away along with the footsteps. Leon sighed and the pressure in his neck eased. He picked up the threads of the conversation.

  “…extremely fortunate. Only forty percent of people have a bull’s eye rash. It can take weeks for the rash to appear. This at least tells me he contracted the disease through a tick bite.”

  Kapoor’s sister sniffed. Dr. Manchester motioned to the unseen man in the room, who held out a box of Kleenex.

  Leon’s face scrunched in a scowl. Why were these people trying to help someone like this crook? Medical obligation or not, Kapoor wasn’t worth the effort they put into him.

  “Then why didn’t that idiot doctor try to discover what was really wrong with Dev when he wasn’t getting any better?”

  The doctor’s small white hand rested on Kapoor’s sister’s shoulder. “Let’s face facts, Miss Kapoor. Your brother is a prisoner. Why should anyone care?”

  You got that right!

  A muscle ticked along his jawline. Why should anyone give a plumb nickel about a man who had no remorse for the hundreds of people he’d hurt?

  Kapoor’s sister’s tiny hand fisted and shook with whatever emotion held her captive. “Those people were paid to lie about what my brother did. He didn’t do those awful things they said he did.”

  Leon rolled his eyes.

  Dr. Manchester took the box of Kleenex from the unseen man and held it out. “Regardless of innocence or guilt, once you’re in prison you’re labeled as a convict. And some folks don’t really care for them. Don’t take this the wrong way, Miss Kapoor, but someone else had to die. If it wasn’t for the recent story about inmates dying in prison due to lack of adequate medical treatment, your brother wouldn’t be here.”

  Kapoor’s sister retrieved more tissues and blew her nose. “Don’t I know it? It took two days and a threat to the media before the prison officials transferred Dev here without a guard.”

  “The state is shying away from any more news coverage. A guard here would definitely draw attention.”

  So, that’s the reason. Leon pursed his lips. No wonder the media hadn’t shown up. This would have definitely made the news had they known. But what would it mean for Kapoor if the state wished to keep things hush-hush?

  Kapoor’s sister took a final swipe at her nose. “What do we do now?”

  “Once I get the results and confirm my diagnosis, I’m going to start him on a round of antibiotics. However, I need to caution you they may not work.”

  “What?”

  Dr. Manchester pushed her blonde hair behind her ears. “There currently aren’t any fool-proof, effective ways to combat Lyme disease when it’s incubated this long. Your brother complained about the symptoms for three weeks. Had we gotten to him sooner, a single dose of doxycycline may have been able to treat the infection.”

  “So, what’s going to happen to him?”

  “We’ll run the course of antibiotics for a few days and see how it affects him.”

  “But, Dr. Manchester, if the medicine—”

  “It’s my opinion we do something rather than nothing.”

  Leon glanced at his watch. Was Alma’s surgery over yet?

  Kapoor’s sister sighed. “All right, Dr. Manchester. Do what you can.”

  The doctor nodded and headed for the exit. “I’m going to steal Malcolm for a few moments, but he’ll be back.”

  Leon dashed to an empty bed across the way and shut the curtains. Through the sliver of material, the doctor, and presumably the nurse, walked past his hiding place without stopping. He pulled the curtain back with a minimal amount of noise and then went over again to where Kapoor lay fighting for his worthless life.

  Kapoor’s sister dropped to her knees and bowed her head. Praying.

  Stunned by her actions, Leon froze on the spot. He’d never thought of a religious aspect to the Kapoors but, then, maybe he should have.

  Keep your prayers. Your brother doesn’t deserve any mercy from the Almighty.

  “I hope you rot.”

  He wasn’t aware he’d spoken out loud until Kapoor’s sister jumped to her feet and whirled around. Eyes wide like saucers, she asked, “What did you just say?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Though tears blurred Gargi’s sight, they could not mask the massive form as it stood outside the curtains. Hastily she wiped at her eyes. “What did you just say?” she repeated.

  The man, hidden somewhat behind the yellow and orange checkered drapes, shoved them aside and stepped into the secluded space. His physical presence gave the distinct impression of causing the room to shrink in response to his girth.

  “I said I hope he rots.” The unmistakable note of unadulterated sincerity scraped at her frayed nerve endings.

  Maybe in other circumstances, at some other time and place, Gargi would have been alarmed to see a strange man peeking at their misery. Yet the last couple of days had taken their toll on her. Dev’s condition threatened his survival. If he lived—

  If he lived…

  The idea, the thought of ‘if,’ wrenched a sob
from her.

  Dear Jesus, please let my brother live. Don’t take him from me.

  “Get out of here!” she screeched. “I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. Just go!”

  The man took another step toward her. She felt his intrusion into her personal space like a palpable insertion. He topped Dev by several inches, with broad shoulders, a wide chest straining the dark green T-shirt, and long arms with meaty hands. His dark golden eyes meshed unexpectedly with the red gold of his hair. A well-groomed beard framed the lower half of his jawline.

  “I’m going to go.” The man’s voice had a gruff drawl to it. “You don’t have to know my name, but I will tell you someone else’s name. Alma Bertha Reckley. She may not mean a thing to you and that piece of trash lying there, but she means the world to me.”

  He pointed a long, thick finger at Dev’s prone figure. “That worthless scum stole my mama’s life savings. So, I’ll say it again. I hope he rots.”

  Heat flushed the surface of her skin like lava-flow. A fine trembling wracked her limbs. This man, whoever he was, had no idea what he was talking about.

  “My brother,” she gritted out, “did not steal anything from anyone. He was set up. There were four others involved in this scheme and they implicated him.”

  “Baloney,” the man scoffed. His thin brows arched. “If he was set up, then where are these so-called conspirators? Nowhere to be found.”

  Gargi stomped over to the man, barely conscious of her actions. All she knew was that she wanted to shut him up.

  “Perhaps you don’t understand English well. My brother is innocent. He gave everything of himself to others. Orphanages, charities, churches, the list goes on.” Her arms flung wildly into the air. “How can he be the type to steal from anyone?”

  The man snorted. “People who don’t work for their money tend to part with it faster than those who do. Else, why spend a million dollars on a sports car?”

  A red haze obscured her vision. She snarled like a wild animal. “Get out! You have no right to be here!”

  The man lifted an arrogant eyebrow. It made the heat scorching her skin reach new depths of intensity. Could he see the steam coming out of her ears? Why wasn’t he running away from the violent urges she fought to contain?

  “I think I have every right.” His gruff drawl flattened to a rough tone of scorn. “I want to see him either rot or do the time the good people of the U. S. of A.’s justice system ordered him to do.”

  Every muscle in her face hardened like stone. “Get out of here now before I call security.”

  He shrugged. “Go right ahead.”

  “I mean it. Go!”

  The man stared at her and she held his gaze. She wouldn’t be the one to back down. Her family had nothing to hide from. Nothing to be ashamed of. No matter what this…person tried to make her feel otherwise. His dark golden eyes roved over her in a languid, insolent way. Predatory eyes, but she was hardly the prey!

  After an indefinite amount of time the man spun on his right foot, thrust the cheery, dreadful curtains aside, and strode away. The metal rings in the tracks overhead rang in the wake of his departure.

  Gargi released a breath she hadn’t known she held. Her knees wobbled and she collapsed into a chair beside the bed. She willed her heartbeat to stop its rapid pace.

  Why had she responded so violently? She’d heard horrible, unkind things from the ‘victims’ of her brother’s ‘fraudulent’ activities. Things worse than what this interloper had said.

  So why did she lose her Kapoor pride, and react? Papa taught her their pride would be the only thing to keep them together during the entire nightmare of their trials.

  “Never let people know they have the ability to affect you. Keep your head high and your mind focused.” Her father had drilled the mantra into both her and her brother since childhood, when they had attended their mother’s funeral.

  A long, weary sigh caved in her chest. Gargi dragged her hair away from her forehead and observed her brother’s bed-ridden form. Illness wracked his bod, causing his chest to rise and fall unsteadily in sleep.

  The prison representatives had made them sign non-disclosure agreements and other legal paperwork ensured to keep their mouths shut. Miguel Santiago, their attorney, had advised against it, but she’d had no other choice. Dev had gotten worse in those agonizingly long two days it took to get him the help he needed.

  She had no idea of all the problems this Lyme disease would cause, but she knew it had to be pretty bad.

  The big man’s image rose in her mind and her fist balled.

  People like that man had caused this disease to afflict her innocent brother. If they had not lied and fabricated evidence he would not be here in this place, in this moment, fighting for his life.

  The toughest part was still to come. One act she dreaded but it had to be done. The silver lining in this nightmare stemmed from the fact her brother was getting treated in a hospital and not a prison infirmary.

  She wiped the salty remnants of tears from her cheeks and then got up to stand in the hallway. The man had long gone but she inexplicably felt his presence, as if he stood next to her. She shook off the strange notion and retrieved her phone from her purse. She tapped on an app which allowed her to make international calls, and dialed a number.

  It rang, and a moment later she heard a deep, familiar voice answer on the other end.

  “Namaste, beti.”

  “Papa, I have some bad news.”

  Leon had enough time to buy a bag of barbeque Cheetos from the vending machine and head back to the waiting room. Five minutes later, the surgeon came to brief him on his mother’s operation.

  “The operation went well,” Dr. Munaco stated. “We had some bleeding, but not much. She’ll be in recovery for about an hour and then moved to the surgical ward.”

  A small knot of pressure eased in the center of his chest. Alma had gone through the surgery fine. The doctor finished his debriefing and Leon settled in the chair until his mother regained consciousness. Ripping open the bag of the spicy snack, he chewed while he kept going over the encounter he’d had with Kapoor’s sister.

  The woman really believed her brother had been wrongfully accused. Witnesses, financial records, phone taps—what did she do with all that evidence? Shut her eyes to it?

  He shook his head. How gullible could one person be?

  Nevertheless, a spark of admiration flared inside him. Her dark eyes shone with defiance. Those smooth, chocolate malt cheeks ruddy with temper. The stubborn chin quivered in defense of her brother. Before the encounter, he believed all the Kapoors had been involved in the scam in some way. Kapoor’s sister’s reaction had shown him they weren’t all complicit in the man’s crimes.

  He tapped his mustache. What’s more, from her response, family loyalty meant something to her. He understood it well. Though his parents had lived their lives as uneducated ‘trailer trash,’ he still took care of them. Still loved them, faults and all.

  “You don’ abandon yer family unless you got a good reason for it.” His dad’s words reverberated in his head. “The only ones that’s gonna stand with you besides the good Lord Hisself is family. We take care of each other because dem folks out there will have a field day chewin’ out yer behind.”

  A brief swell of sorrow rose in him at the old man’s memory. He was the best father a man could have.

  Leon sighed and ate a few more Cheetos. For what it was worth, not that it would matter to her, he respected Kapoor’s sister for her dedication—even in the midst of the lies.

  “Mr. Reckley?”

  The voice interrupted his musings. He stood as the nurse came forward. “That’s me.”

  “Your mother’s awake and is asking for you.”

  Leon threw the empty bag into a nearby trash can and dusted his hands off on his pants. He followed the woman to his mother’s location. One thought blared in his mind. How would Alma react when she heard the man who had swindled her out
of her life savings was laid up in the same hospital as she was?

  “Gargi?”

  She jerked awake, regretting it when her neck cracked audibly in the hush of the room. She gave Dev a tender smile as she leaned over the bed. “I’m here, bhaaii,” she responded in Hindi.

  Dev’s eyes scanned the room. “Main mar gaya, aur svarg mein chale gae hain?”

  Gargi let loose a watery laugh. Compared to prison, a clean hospital room with a view of the parking lot had to be paradise. “Nahin, bhaaii. You haven’t died and gone to heaven. If heaven looks like a hospital, then I’d rather stay on earth.”

  He returned her smile, and then grimaced. “It’s like I got hit by a bus. My right arm’s numb.” He stretched and then winced. “What day is it?”

  “It’s Tuesday afternoon.”

  “Feels longer.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Dev, I’ve some things I need to tell you. It was touch and go for a day or so but Dr. Manchester stabilized you.”

  “What do you mean? What’s going on, chhotee bahan?”

  She took his hand and raised it to her lips. “Bhaaii, there’s no other way to say this than straight out. You have a condition called Lyme disease.”

  “Huh?” His eyebrows squished together. “What are you talking about?”

  As she related everything Dr. Manchester had told her, his brown eyes dampened with unshed moisture. The surrounding atmosphere thickened with a tangible sense of horror. She sensed Dev withdraw from her, although he hadn’t moved a muscle.

  “I—I—can’t—” Words failed him.

  “Mujhe pata hai,” Gargi whispered as she kissed his hand again. “I know,” she repeated.

  The past four and a half years had been the roughest of their lives. Now this. “We had to go through hell just to get me in here.” Dev’s voice broke. “Now this? The state’s not going to want to do anything about this!”

  Tears threatened but Gargi blinked them back. “We’ll worry about one thing at a time.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are—are the antibiotics working? Can we beat this thing? Tell me something good.”

  Gargi fiddled with the tips of Dev’s fingers. “So far we have to play it by ear.”