Shark Out of Water

by DelSheree Gladden

Charlotte’s mother was no longer looking at Warren, but at Guy. There was a curious edge to her usual disdain. Whatever she was thinking, she kept it to herself.

  “Was I asleep for long?” Guy asked Warren.

  The boy shook his head. “Nope. Just a little while.”

  Mr. Martin chuckled. “You both slept for two hours. Warren has only been awake for about fifteen minutes.” He shook his head at his grandson’s poor grasp of time before addressing Guy again. “Your cell phone rang a little while ago, but I didn’t know if you wanted someone else to answer it.”

  “Merci,” Guy said.

  He grabbed his phone off the table and saw that he had missed a call from Sabine. He redialed her number immediately, but she did not pick up. Rubbing at his eyes, he checked the time and tried to figure out where she might be. He quickly realized he had no idea where she had been when Eli called, or how long it would take her to arrive. His head was too muddled to even calculate when his parents should arrive.

  A burst of energy from Warren sent him stumbling off Guy’s lap and sprinting down the hallway. Both his grandparents called for him to stop while Guy dropped his phone and stood to run after him. He slowed when he heard Warren’s voice screeching through the hall.

  “Auntie Sabine!”

  By the time Guy could see his sister, she had the little boy wrapped up in her arms, swinging his legs back and forth in the air as she mauled him with kisses. Guy’s parents appeared a few minutes later and Warren leapt from Sabine’s arms right into theirs.

  Guy watched the reunion with tearful eyes. His parents showered Warren with attention. He was kissed more times in those few seconds than he had been in his entire life. He was giggling hysterically by the time they finally released him. As soon as his feet were back on the ground, he grabbed as many hands as he could and dragged them all down the hall.

  “Gramma and Grampa, this is my other grand-maman and grand-papa. This is my Auntie Sabine, too,” he announced proudly.

  Guy’s mother extended her hand to Mrs. Martin, “I’m sure we look très horrible, but we have just arrived from France. We are so sorry about votre fille, your daughter, I mean. Je suis désolé. It is difficult to think so much in Anglais when we are so tired.”

  “You came here all the way from France because of Charlotte?” Mr. Martin asked. His wife seemed too shocked to even say anything.

  “Bien sûr,” Guy’s father said, “Charlotte is family. We will do anything we can to help. She means very much to us.”

  Sabine slipped up next to her brother and put her arm around him. “As soon as we heard Charlotte was so sick, we came to be with Guy and Warren. We could not let them go through this alone.”

  “But, you hardly know Charlotte,” Mrs. Martin said. She seemed honestly confused. “You’ve only met her once.”

  “Oh, but we speak on the téléphone quite often. She is such a delightful girl,” Guy’s mother said with great affection.

  The Martins both seemed taken aback by his family, but Guy felt only relief. He slipped out of Sabine’s embrace and greeted both his parents. His mother kissed him almost as much as she had Warren. His father settled for the expected kiss on each cheek, but nearly crushed him with a massive hug. When he reluctantly extracted himself from his parents, Sabine had laid claim to Warren once again.

  “She hasn’t woken up yet,” Warren told Sabine. “Papa Guy said she probably won’t wake up until her fever stops, but it’s taking a long time. What if she doesn’t wake up?”

  The group of people surrounding them fell silent. Only Sabine spoke. “Do not worry, sweet boy. Your maman will wake up soon, and you have your papa to take care of you until then. Everything will be okay, yes?”

  Warren hesitated before nodding. He was far from convinced, but he hugged Sabine tightly. Everyone was so focused on the pair that Guy was the only one to see Myles trudging up the hall slowly. His posture immediately put Guy on edge. He pushed past the Martins, stepping quickly to close the distance. Myles’ shoulders dropped when they reached each other.

  “Something has changed?” Guy demanded. He could hear the others rushing up behind them, but his whole focus was on his friend.

  “Not for the better,” Myles answered. “The fever still hasn’t broken, and her kidney function is only getting worse.”

  Closing his eyes, Guy pressed his hands to his face. “How much?”

  “She’s down to twenty-three percent. If it drops much more, we have to consider dialysis and switching to vancomycin.”

  “But…”

  “I know,” Myles interrupted. “I’m not keen on worsening her kidney function even more, but we have to get the infection under control. We’ll deal with the repercussions as they appear.”

  “Can she handle dialysis?” Guy asked.

  Myles’ expression was grim, but he said, “She’s a fighter.”

  Still held in Sabine’s arms, Warren tugged on Myles’ shirtsleeve. “Is my mom getting more sick?”

  “Yes,” Myles said quietly, “but sometimes people get sicker before they can get better. It’s hard work for a body to kill all those bad germs.”

  “But, you’re going to make her better, right?” Warren demanded.

  Myles smiled and squeezed Warren’s hand tightly. “I’m trying very hard to make her better.”

  Warren seemed comforted by his words, but he was the only one. “Protéger son Dieu, s'il vous plait,” Sabine quietly prayed. They all seemed to echo her plea for God to protect Charlotte.

  Chapter 31

  Avoir la Foi

  It took Vance longer than he had expected to check in on his patient the day before. He had not been able to get back to Guy with the name of Charlotte’s attorney until it was too late to call him. The search for a will had proved fruitless at the apartment. It did not cause Guy to lose all hope. Charlotte had not kept a copy of the power of attorney paperwork at her apartment either. She had filed one with the hospital so they knew Guy was the one to ask about her care, but that was it.

  As he woke the next morning, stiff and sore from sleeping on a couch, his first thought was to call the lawyer’s office. As anxious as he was to learn about the will, he was not so anxious as to wake Warren. After his momentary frenzy calmed, he breathed in the scent of his boy’s hair. Guy had finally been talked into going back to his parents’ hotel room the previous night to shower and change clothes.

  Warren had gone with him to do the same. He smelled of the hotel shampoo, which Warren had been oddly pleased by. He told Guy it smelled like Christmas. It must have been the ginger in the shampoo that made him think of Christmas. The thought made him smile as he lay with Warren curled up beside him.

  There was so much he still wanted to experience with Charlotte and Warren. Having met Charlotte in November, they had spent Christmas together, but it had been a small affair since Charlotte had not yet become comfortable with Guy’s friends and she was too sick to travel or do much outside the apartment. Normally, Guy would have gone home to his parents for Christmas.

  They understood why he had not come, but Guy was eager to share all the hassle and fun that was the holiday season in the French countryside with Charlotte and Warren. He was also excited to watch Warren play soccer in the fall and see if Charlotte really knew her way around a boat as she claimed, once summer finally arrived. There was too much left that they had not yet experienced together. He longed for the chance to make Charlotte and Warren his family “for keeps,” as Warren liked to say.

  A sudden movement from Warren almost sent him tumbling off the couch. Guy caught him in time, but the boy had already been startled awake. “Is it morning already?” Warren asked through a yawn.

  “Oui, but it is still early.”

  Warren blinked a few times. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay. We will visit the bathroom, and then should we get some breakfast?”

  Wrinkling his face in disgust, Warren shook his head. “The food here is even worse than
when you make dinner. Grand-maman said she would bring us breakfast from the hotel.”

  Even Guy had to admit that sounded like a better idea. “You could have stayed with them last night if you wanted…or gone with your grand-maman Martin.”

  Warren shook his head as he pushed into the bathroom. “I wanted to stay with you and Mommy.”

  Choosing not to discourage him, Guy motioned for him to go ahead. When they were finished, they walked back to the window to see Charlotte. Warren’s sad eyes watched her sleep. “Can we go in yet?”

  “Let us ask the nurse.”

  They made the short trip to the decontamination room and began preparing themselves when the nurse told them they could go in. Warren grimaced as the nurse helped him scrub his hands and arms, but did not complain. Someone had found smaller protective clothing for him to wear and he wiggled into it eagerly. It was almost torturous making him go through the process to enter the clean room, but as soon as he was in the room, he rushed over to his mother’s bedside and reached for her hand. He paused when he saw new tubes coming out of her arm.

  “What’s all that?” he asked.

  Guy faltered at the sight of the plastic tubing leading from her arm to the dialysis machine. They had not been there the night before when he had told Charlotte goodnight. Her kidney function must have dropped during the night and Myles had ordered the treatment. He knew as well that he must have switched to the more aggressive antibiotic in an effort to stem the infection.

  Feeling heavy, Guy sat in the chair next to Charlotte’s bed. He pulled Warren into his lap and explained the basic function of the machine. Knowing little of what it meant for his mother to need help to make her body fluids cleaner, the boy could not grasp the significance. He knew already that his mother was very sick. Guy saw no point in scaring him even more. For himself, it was agonizing to sit there listening to Warren tell Charlotte how she was going to get better soon. His own hope was beginning to fade and it was breaking his heart.

  By the time they were back in the hallway, both sets of grandparents had arrived. Warren’s spirit was buoyed at the site of muffins and fruit brought by Guy’s mother. He tore into them hungrily as Guy forced himself to update everyone on Charlotte’s condition. The news left the whole group feeling distraught. No one objected when he stepped away.

  For a long while, he just stood alone in the stairwell with his own thoughts. His earlier anxiety to speak with the lawyer was still there, but fear held him back. What if Charlotte had trusted him with her health, but thought Warren would be better off with his blood relatives? He would not fight her wishes, no matter how much he wanted to. Warren was not his son, though he would do anything for the boy. If that was Charlotte’s decision, he could only hope the Martins would not cut him out of Warren’s life completely.

  Too afraid to call the lawyer, Guy dialed a different number instead. It only took a few rings before the call was answered.

  “Guy, is that you?”

  “Yes, Father Deniau. Thank you for picking up. I am not even sure what time it is there.”

  “Do not worry about the time, Guy. I am glad you called,” the Father said.

  It felt good to hear his friend’s voice at such a difficult time. Father Deniau had counselled with him many times over his life. In Guy’s younger years, he was often in trouble when he and the Father spoke, but as he had aged, Guy went to him for guidance and advice more often than anything else. He had been the one to urge him toward making his own decisions and not letting his parents decide his future. The Father was close to Guy’s whole family, and had even requested that the church relocate him to tend the church on Guy’s parents’ estate when they retired and left Paris.

  “Father, I am so frightened for Charlotte. I do not think I can survive losing her.”

  The compassion in Father Deniau’s voice was easy to hear as he spoke. “Guy, He has a plan for Charlotte. We do not know what His plan is yet, but you must have faith in Him that it is right for her and for you. He will bless you with the strength you need, no matter what happens.”

  “I want to believe that, Father, but it is not easy.”

  “No it is not, but He will support you.”

  Guy pressed his free hand to his face, trying very hard to have the trust his friend spoke of. “Will you pray for her, Father?”

  “I have been praying for her since your parents told me,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Guy said. He felt he could stand there talking to the Father for hours, but he saw Sabine walking down the hall toward him. The worry on her face echoed his and he knew she was concerned about Warren’s fate as well.

  “Father, I have another call to make, but thank you for listening, and for your faith.”

  “Please call whenever you need to talk, Guy,” he said.

  It was difficult to end the call, but Guy knew he could not put off calling Charlotte’s lawyer any longer. Even still, he hesitated. It was not until Sabine slipped up next to him and took his hand in silent support that he had enough strength to make the call. A woman answered the phone, asking if she could help him. Guy cleared his tight throat. “I need to speak to Mr. Coughlin. It is regarding one of his clients.”

  “I’ll transfer you. Just a moment.”

  “Merci,” Guy said, but the woman had already clicked off the line. A few rings later, a man answered the call.

  “Gregory Coughlin speaking.”

  “Mr. Coughlin, my name is Guy Saint Laurent. I needed to speak with you in regards to Charlotte Brooks.”

  “Ah yes, Mrs. Brooks. How is she doing?”

  Guy’s chest tightened to the point of pain. He had to force himself to speak. “She is not well. I have assumed power of attorney for her as she is… she is no longer able to handle her own affairs. The hospital can send you documentation if you need it.”

  “No, that’s not necessary, Dr. Saint Laurent. Charlotte already gave me permission to discuss her affairs with you. What did you need?”

  “I need to know if Charlotte had you draw up a will. Warren, her son…should she continue to decline, I need to know…I need to know what her wishes were for his care.”

  The man let out a breath that seemed weighted with regret. “Is the situation that dire?”

  “It may be,” Guy said, his voice breaking on the last word.

  “Guy, why don’t I come down and go over everything with you in person. Charlotte has several items in her will that need to be addressed. Are you at the hospital now? I can be there in about an hour.”

  Something in Guy broke with relief. He did not have to find out just yet. “Yes, we are.” He gave the lawyer instructions on where to find them and hung up.

  Sabine continued to grip his hand as he leaned against the wall. She did not say anything. Perhaps she too realized that giving custody of a young boy to someone Charlotte had only known for barely more than six months seemed like insanity. The more he pondered the question, the more he doubted the likelihood he would be allowed to stay with Warren. How could Charlotte choose him over her own parents? Why would she? His hands were shaking as he tried to shove his phone back into his pocket. Sabine had to take it from him and put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Come,” she urged. Guy did not move, but Sabine was no delicate flower. She nearly rivaled him in height, and keeping her model’s body required a great deal of work. She was strong, and she put it to use in pulling her brother away from the wall and dragging him out of the stairwell he had been standing in.

  “Come and sit with your son,” Sabine commanded as he dragged against her.

  “He’s not…”

  “He is,” Sabine snapped. “You love him as a son, and he calls you his papa. Do not let go of that. Fight for him, Guy. You must.”

  “How can I fight if Charlotte did not want me to keep him?”

  “You do not yet know what she wanted, and even if she did choose them, fight to be a part of his life. Do not let go of him.”

  Gu
y reached out for the wall to steady himself. Warren had said the same thing the day before, asked him not to let go of him as he slept. He was already haunted by the thought of losing his precious Charlotte. She was the only woman he had ever loved. He feared losing her would break him. Losing Warren, too, he knew it would wreck him forever.

  He had no choice but to face it. Gripping his sister’s hand, Guy pushed away from the wall and dragged himself back to the waiting room. It was more filled than it had been due to the arrival of Leila, Vance, and Leo. Everyone looked up at him as he stepped into the room.

  “I just spoke to Charlotte’s lawyer,” he said quietly. The Martins tensed immediately. Everyone was on edge, but were as still as a windless sea. “He said there were items to discuss and he is coming here shortly.”

  That was all Guy said, all he could bear to say. He sat down on an empty couch with Sabine trailing him. No one said a word, because they all knew the significance of such a meeting. Charlotte was fading and Warren’s fate hung in the balance.

  Charlotte’s mother tried to entice Warren into another round of cards, but he shook his head and abandoned her for Guy’s lap. They held onto each other, searching for comfort, yet finding only fear. It was the longest hour Guy had ever experienced.

  By the time Sabine spotted the briefcase-toting man wandering down the hallway, the room seemed ready to split open with tension. Eli had stumbled upon the lawyer on his way up and walked with him, chatting amiably, until they reached the room. The layer of dread coating the group stopped both men in an instant.

  “Has something happened to Charlotte?” Eli asked.

  Leila was the one to stand and pull her husband from the room as she explained the morning’s events. As if the spell had been broken, the room emptied soon after. Even Sabine stood, kissed her brother’s cheek, and walked out to the hallway, closing the door behind her. The only ones remaining with the lawyer were Guy, Warren, and the Martins.

  Whether Mr. Coughlin understood the anxiety or not, he did not seem disturbed by it. He politely introduced himself to Charlotte’s parents as he set his briefcase on the coffee table and extracted a file. “Now, Charlotte’s apartment was bought and paid for by her husband, Jackson Brooks, but upon his death it was transferred into Charlotte’s name. It is her wish that the apartment be kept for Warren until his twenty-first birthday. At that time, it will be up to Warren whether or not to keep the property.”