Time to Say Goodbye (Michigan Sweet Romance)

by Parker J Cole

  The powerful antibiotics coursing through his system could negatively affect his own body. But it was a risk they’d have to take to fight the infection. She held on to that belief even while doubts nibbled their tiny mouths into her consciousness. Had she made the wrong decision? She couldn’t bear it if she’d caused further complications in Dev’s life.

  “Does Papa know?”

  “Haan. I called him two days ago. He’s on his way back from Shruti’s wedding.”

  Dev sighed and shifted on the bed. Misery stamped his features but he cleared his throat and gave her a slight smile. “I wouldn’t want him to miss that. He rarely gets a chance to go back home.”

  She nodded in agreement. “He sent a few pictures to me. Would you like to see them?”

  Gargi pulled up the images her father had sent her over the phone.

  “See? Doesn’t Shruti look so pretty?” She thumbed through more images, each one a happy one. Their cousin was dressed in a red wedding sari, highly ornate, with gold threading. The tikka caught the flash of the camera and sparkled like the sun in the center of her forehead. Four groomsmen, outfitted in white kurta pajamas accessorized with red scarves and turbans, carried her cousin on their shoulders into the temple on the dholi they shared among them.

  “Haan,” Dev agreed, his eyes intent on the picture. “I fell in love with her when she came here as a kid. If I could have, I would have made her my patni the second I became a man.”

  “Really? You and Shruti?” She never thought of her brother having any romantic inclinations. “Well, it’s not as if she’s a close cousin, Dev. You could have made her your wife if her parents agreed to it.”

  His gaze still lingered on the picture of their cousin. “I asked Papa once to make an offer for her on my behalf. He said no, and to never ask again.”

  Gargi gaped at her brother in shock. He’d always seemed so focused on helping the less fortunate. Putting others above himself. Holy, even. It was disconcerting to realize her brother had a man’s heart housing affection for a woman.

  Dev coughed and looked away. “Enough of me and my silly thoughts. These pictures should be of you, Gargi,” her brother whispered in a mournful tone. “Mujhe maaf kijiye.”

  “Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive you for, Dev.” She sniffed. “And we’re not going to talk about that. I don’t regret anything at all, and neither should you.” Her voice flattened. The past, particularly that painful event, was never to be spoken of again.

  “If it hadn’t been for all of this—”

  “Chup.” She held her hand up to silence him. “I don’t want to talk about it. We’ve got enough problems on our plate without having to go back to yesterday.”

  The ache beat fresh in her heart. The memories of unfulfilled childish dreams surfaced again. It hurt to think of the promises of long ago when she had naïvely believed her life was set for her, just as it was for a lot of Indian women when they were ready to marry.

  Foolishly, stupidly, it had not been the case.

  Dev cleared his throat. “Well, at any rate, I’m glad now. I wouldn’t want Shruti to see me like this.” He gazed off into the distance. A bitter expression marred his features. Gargi blinked. She’d never seen such a look on her brother before.

  “Don’t be that way.” She shut off the phone. “You’re going to be fine.” Easier to pour hope into her brother than accept it for herself. After all, he’d been the one maligned by liars.

  The face of the big man taunted her. His dark golden eyes had lit with gratification to see her brother feeble and possibly on his deathbed. Her lips pressed into a line. When Dev’s innocence became public knowledge, she’d give everything to see that man eat his words. In fact, she’d be the first to climb on top of his mammoth chest and stuff the accusations back down his throat until he choked on them.

  The violent nature of her mental tirade startled her. What was wrong with her?

  The sudden thought of why a day and a half later he still caused such a reaction perplexed her. What did it stem from?

  She toyed with the outer phone casing. Maybe because he was a spectator. The big man had witnessed the Kapoor siblings at their weakest. He’d been privy to the awful pain reserved for family. He’d seen the Kapoor pride bleached from her psyche. Perhaps that’s why his presence remained in her brain like a splinter in flesh.

  “Gargi?”

  Jolted out of her thoughts, she looked down to see a quizzical look on Dev’s face. “What did you say?”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  Gargi smoothed her hands over her pants. She hadn’t told him about the visit from the big man. What would have been the point? “Nothing. Just...nothing.”

  The ringtone on her phone cut into their conversation. She peeked at the number and felt her heart leap. “It’s Miguel.”

  A hopeful light appeared in Dev’s eyes. He angled his body toward her. “Do you think…maybe…?”

  “Let’s find out.” She gripped his hand in her own and then pressed the speaker icon.

  Switching to English she said, “I’ve got you on speaker so Dev can hear. Miguel, please tell me—”

  “Lo siento, Gargi.”

  Those accented three words weighed on her shoulders like bricks. Her fingers loosened their grip on the phone as the vitality seeped out of them. It couldn’t be possible.

  “Are you sure, Miguel?”

  “Sì. I received notice today the appeal has been dismissed.”

  She exhaled a long breath. Why was this happening? Hadn’t they been through enough?

  “Can we appeal again?”

  “There’s no hope for another appeal.”

  Gargi’s head tilted to the side while a note of disbelief huffed out of her. “What?”

  “Look, Gargi, Dev. We’ve appealed once. I don’t think another one is going to make much of a difference. There’s nothing substantial or significant we can use to start the process over again. It’s taken nearly a year to hear back from the court of appeals.”

  A roar filled the space between her ears. That man’s face loomed in her mind, mocking her with a knowing look in his eyes.

  “I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”

  “Gargi, I believe in Dev’s innocence as much as you do. But we’ve tried everything we can possibly think of. Comprendè? Unless you’ve got something concrete for me to use, and your brother agrees to it, we can’t do this again. Go on with your lives.”

  “Go on with our lives?” she squeaked. “Our lives ended four years ago.” Gargi looked past Dev, to distant memories which stung as if she’d experienced them yesterday. The polished surface of the gavel. Her brother led away in cuffs by the bailiffs. The exultant cry of the ‘victims’ in the courtroom.

  That man’s words: “I hope you rot.”

  No, she refused to let any of them win. She clutched the edges of the phone tighter. Least of all him.

  “I’m going to get my brother out of jail no matter what I have to do.”

  Dev reached out for her. “Gargi, you’ve done all you can.”

  “He’s right, Gargi.”

  Dev’s to Miguel’s words ignited a sudden, rampant fire in her veins. “Miguel, can you apply for another appeal or not?”

  Something on the other end of the phone thumped. “Sì. Let me warn you: just like the first time, it’s not cheap. I’ve been more than generous when it comes to collecting payment from you. I know you don’t have the money to continue to pay for my fees. I’m not the kind of man to keep milking you for a lost cause.”

  Gargi’s jaw clenched. “My brother is not a lost cause, Miguel.”

  “Stop twisting my words, Gargi. You know exactly what I mean.”

  “I want to appeal. Again.”

  Miguel snorted in her ear like an angry bull. “Estas loco? I advised you both not to sign those non-disclosures, but you did anyway. Now he’s got a condition insurance companies won’t touch with a ten-foot pole. You think the state’s
going to do anything about it?”

  “What were we supposed to do, Miguel? Let him rot in there?” She flinched at the word that caused her so much grief.

  “Gone to the media. I hate those sanguijuela, too, but at least those bloodsuckers would have given your case attention.”

  “How long would we have waited, Miguel? A week? Two weeks? I don’t believe he had that kind of time. Plus, he’s been imprisoned for a crime he did not commit. Would we have really gained public sympathy?”

  “It was a risk you should have taken. Especially after that guy died.”

  “I will not risk my brother’s life for anything, Miguel. What’s done is done.”

  The attorney sighed. “Sì. Look, you have to give me something to appeal with then. If you brother agrees to it then I’ll try again, but I am going to need a deposit up front.”

  “How much?”

  “Gargi listen to me—”

  She tuned out Miguel’s argument as she stood and sauntered over to the window. The waning afternoon light splayed over the cars in the parking lot. A figure strutted among them. Red-gold hair and wide shoulders encased in a gray hoodie caught her attention. Her heartbeat tap-danced inside her ribcage. That man.

  Miguel still droned on in her ear but she’d had enough. “I said, how much?”

  From the abrupt silence on the phone and Dev’s gasp behind her, she knew she’d crossed a line of respect and propriety with the attorney. But, for just this moment, she didn’t care. Her eyes followed that head of red-gold as it made its way to a black pickup truck. The man paused, presumably to unlock the door. She watched as he got in and the vehicle bounced in reaction to the man’s heavy weight.

  Miguel’s next words cut through her concentration. “Ten thousand dollars.”

  Gargi dragged her gaze from the window and looked back at her brother. He’d gone ashen underneath the almond brown of his skin.

  “Dev, if you or your sister find any kind of evidence that’s going to allow for an appeal, shall I proceed with it?”

  Dev’s panic reached out and touched her with its tentacles. His Adam’s apple dipped nervously. Gargi went back over to his bed and held his gaze. Though she paid the fees, it was her brother’s decision to approve of Miguel’s course of action. After a brief silence, Dev spoke. “Yes, Miguel.”

  “All right.” The attorney sounded weary. “You get me something and then we’ll make it official. And remember, I require the deposit up front.”

  “Gracias, Miguel.” Gargi pressed the button on the phone to end the call. The silence screamed loud and harsh. There had to be evidence to prove her brother innocent. There had to be something, something she could use. One stone unturned, one door unopened. All it took was a little bit of patience.

  She thrust out her chin. She would find a way to free Dev.

  “Don’t you worry, bhaaii.” Gargi clutched brother’s hands. “I’ll get you out of here. No matter what it takes.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gargi pushed aside the plate of unremarkable hospital food aside and placed the laptop on the small table. Through the closed door, she still heard activity make its way through the barrier. Names being paged over the intercom, the continual beeping of monitors, and people walking back and forth. Gargi wished she could make them all stop in their tracks so she could focus on her research.

  But the world did not stop for anyone, no matter how stuck in the trenches they were, so she had to buckle down and do what needed to be done.

  She massaged her eye sockets with her thumb and forefinger. The better part of an hour had been spent on searching the Net for any hint of evidence they could use to apply again for an appeal. Though she hadn’t found it yet, she knew it would show itself. Now, it was time to learn more about her brother’s condition.

  Clicking on the search results, Gargi found a forum for those affected by Lyme disease. Until Dev’s diagnosis, she hadn’t even heard of this thing. Now, she found herself thrust into the turmoil of a disease she had to hurry and get knowledgeable about in order to help her brother.

  The link led her to a little video giving a concise commentary about the disease and where it came from. Dr. Manchester had stated she had knowledge about Dev’s condition, but Gargi had to know about it herself. She couldn’t leave Dev’s health solely in the hands of doctors.

  The animated video showed a spiral-shaped bacterium called borrelia burgdorfei, part of a larger family of bacteria known as borrelia. These bacteria were known as spirochetes due to their long, thin, twisted shape and their spinning motion. They lived in small animals like mice, lizards, and birds, which acted as reservoirs for them.

  Once she heard that, Gargi made a decision to never own a pet.

  A groan from the bed made her shut the lid of the computer. “Dev?”

  “Gargi?” his voice croaked.

  She hurried to the side of the bed. “Shubh prabhaat, bhaii.” Gargi smoothed away a curly lock of hair from his forehead. It was wonderful to touch him in comforting ways like this. A week ago, she’d been wishing for this kind of contact. In prison, there had been no opportunity for these small brushes of sibling affection. As long as she lived, she’d never again take for granted the necessity of human touch.

  “Good morning to you, too, little—”

  The answering smile on his face died away. Her hand stilled. “What is it, Dev?”

  He didn’t speak, just fixed his wide, chestnut-brown gaze on her. “Something’s wrong,” he gushed out after a moment.

  Gargi frowned. “What do you mean?”

  His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I can’t feel anything.”

  An ice-cold brick settled in the place where her heart lay. Bile burned the back of her throat. “Is it your arm?”

  “It’s not just my arm. I can’t feel my body!” Dev shouted, the whites of his eyes pearl orbs against his dark, but increasingly pallid, skin. “I can’t move.”

  Blindly, and as if of their own volition, Gargi's numb fingers reached for the nurse call button and pressed it. “I’m s-sure there’s a logical explanation, Dev.” Her voice wobbled and she swallowed to clear it. “Perhaps it’s just t-temporary from the treatment Dr. Manchester administered.”

  “Don’t feed me that—”

  “Yes, Mr. Kapoor?” the nurse responding to the call light crackled through the speaker.

  Gargi lifted the call phone to her mouth and spoke into it. “My brother is saying he can’t move or feel his body. I need someone in here now.” A fine trembling took over her limbs. This could not be happening.

  “We’ll be right there.”

  She replaced the intercom and grabbed Dev’s hand. Unconsciously, she expected him to clench it back but it remained limp within her grasp. Sweat broke out over her body.

  Oh no! Dear God, please, please…

  She couldn’t finish the prayer. Wasn’t sure if she should finish it. Had God answered her prayer when she begged for her brother to be found innocent?

  The nurse padded into the room. “Mr. Kapoor, tell me exactly what you’re feeling.”

  “Nothing! That’s why you’re here!”

  “I understand you’re upset, sir,” the nurse cooed in a patient, soft voice. It had a soothing effect on Gargi’s ragged nerves. “However, I need to know how you feel, so when Dr. Manchester arrives I can give her as much of a detailed report as possible.”

  “I feel rubbery.”

  Gargi gulped. She couldn’t even begin to quite understand what exactly he meant.

  The nurse stepped closer. “Rubbery?”

  Dev’s eyebrows knitted together. “Like...when I fall asleep on my arm sometimes and the blood doesn’t circulate? That’s how I feel. Or, when I have a nightmare and I’m trying to move and I can’t. That’s it, too.”

  The nurse made a notation in the clipboard she’d brought with her. “I’m going to check the medication rounds we’ve been giving you to see if maybe there’s a side effect associated with it. But
Dr. Manchester will be here and she’ll be able to give you more detail.”

  “How long will it be before she gets here?” Gargi wanted the woman there now.

  “As soon as she arrives, I’ll let you know. Now, I’m going to take some vitals right now.”

  Gargi hugged herself. Dev lay still, unnaturally still in the bed. He was able to turn his neck, but that seemed about all. His glassy eyes met hers, and Gargi longed to succumb to the wails clamoring for an exit.

  She rolled her shoulders. Unclenching her midsection, she raised her chin. Someone had to keep their head on straight in the midst of all of this. She didn’t want the brunt of all this…stuff…to be on her shoulders. But there wasn’t anyone else.

  The image of the man from three days ago rose in her mind once more. “I hope you rot.”

  Whoever you are, it’s not going to work. I won’t let your words harm my brother.

  Leon glared at the vending machine at work, resisting the urge to kick it. Where was a bag of barbeque Cheetos when you needed one? Scowling, he went over to the coffee pot and helped himself. Some kind soul had bought the staff several boxes of donuts, and he grabbed one filled with strawberry jelly. Placing it on a paper plate, he went over to the breakroom table and straddled a chair. Anticipating the sugary sweet, he raised it to his mouth when he heard someone say, “How’s it going there?”

  Leon glanced up to see the short, gray-haired man standing in the doorway of the break room.

  “It’s going fine, Mr. Cresswell.” What was the director of Sunstone Healthcare doing here? To his knowledge, the man only came around when he showed off the facility to potential investors. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Got a special project I’m going to send you on.” Mr. Cresswell stepped further into the drab gray and brown breakroom.

  Leon stifled a sigh and set down the donut. He’d just finished a few cases this morning and had several more to go through before his day ended. What did the director want?

  “Allyson Carter says you’ve a proven track record for helping some of the more difficult cases with rehabilitation. You’re perfect for this role.”