by S. M. Butler
Chapter Twenty
‡
Ysabeau was barely able to finish her clinical rounds. Somehow, she saw her patients without breaking down into tears. It would be the last time she’d see any of them. Tonight, before she closed the clinic, she’d tack up a letter of apology on the glass doors. Later, once she had found the right words, she’d call each of them personally and try to explain the situation. She sighed. There weren’t enough words in the universe to explain this.
After the last patient walked out, she sent her staff home.
Plopping down at her desk, she stared at her computer screen and ran through her contacts over and over again. Not one of them could help like the Guardians had. She corrected herself. Luke had funded her clinic. The Guardians didn’t exist.
She dropped her heavy head on her arms. How had this happened?
There was only one answer—Luke.
He led her to believe he had money to save her dying patients. It was all a lie. He came to Haiti with the sole intention of stealing her clinic from her. Luke Carter wasn’t any better than the thugs Tico used to hang out with. At least they were honest about stealing a person’s livelihood. They didn’t care about you, didn’t make you fall in love with them.
Her arms muffled her cries.
She was a naïve, lonely woman who let herself believe the Guardians were money fairies. She corrected herself again—as if he was a money fairy.
But he wasn’t anything. Luke was gone. The thought was unbearable. She was still furious with him, beyond words, but she was mourning the loss of him already. Her life would not be the same without him.
Taking a deep breath, she turned off the computer. Tomorrow, or the next day she’d sell it, maybe she’d get a few bucks for it to give to Talitha’s family. Sniffling, she turned off the lights.
She was still upset at Luke for lying to her. So why did she pray the whole drive home that she’d find him sitting on her kitchen barstool, running his long fingers through his blond hair? How she hoped he’d give her a sheepish grin, complete with heart-breaking dimples, and open his arms to her. He’d apologize. She’d apologize for the horrible things she said to him and run into his arms. Somehow, they’d figure things out together. Somehow they’d go on together.
She sighed. It was a pretty dream, nothing more.
Ysabeau knew the second he walked out of her clinic. He wouldn’t be back.
Pulling into her driveway, she yanked up Brigitte’s handbrake and jumped out of the car. She was halfway up the walk when Grann met her.
“Child, are you okay?” Grann had her arms outstretched.
Grann wasn’t Luke.
“Where is he? Inside?” Ysabeau patted her grandmother’s shoulder as she passed yelling, “Luke!”
“No, baby. He’s gone.”
Ysabeau spun around. “Where is he?”
“It’s better this way. I swear—”
Ysabeau ran toward her house, throwing open the front door. “Luke!”
Surprisingly, Deolina was inside. She jumped back in surprise, pressing her hand to breast. “Ysabeau! Scared the devil right out of me, you did. ’Course we knew you were coming, just not so fast. Come inside and tell us everything. Grann and I made iced tea.”
Ysabeau was trembling. “Where is he?”
“Aw sweet girl, he’s long gone. Good riddance, I say,” Deolina said.
Tears pricked her eyes again. “I want to talk to him. I need to see him.” I need him!
“A man like dat devil will be de death of a woman like you,” Deolina said.
“Deo!” Grann gave her the evil eye. “Come on, Ysa, let’s go inside and sit down. This heat is killing me.” She fanned herself with her hand.
They went in. Deolina poured them all a glass of tea. “I wish I could say I didn’t see dis comin’, but I did. Remember? I warned you about not gettin’ too close to dat man. Now you know why.”
Ysabeau sat on what she would now and forever more think of as “Luke’s couch.” Grann and Deo sat on either side of her. Her heart was broken and she didn’t see any way to heal it without her American. Ysabeau pressed the sweating glass to her cheek. “You couldn’t have told me the ‘why’ earlier? Like before I trusted him? Before I brought him into my home?” My heart.
Deolina and Grann gave each other a strange look. Something was still going on between them.
“Gran? You knew and kept it from me?” Ysabeau asked.
Deolina snorted. “Grann kept her mouth shut? This is a red letter day. I thought for sure she’d spill the seeds about the American devil’s lies long before now.”
Grann reached behind Ysabeau’s back and slapped Deo’s thick shoulder.
“Ow,” Deo complained.
Ysabeau blinked. Things were making sense. “You saw what Luke was going to do, didn’t you, Deolina? That’s why you had Tico beat him up.”
“Aw, Ysa, I saw dis comin’ along wid de blood and destruction—” Deolina began.
Grann grabbed Deolina’s sleeve and gave it a ferocious yank off her shoulder. “Shut it!”
“Gran! Stop it!” Ysabeau knew that Grann and Deo had their differences, but this was insane. Just like the rest of her day. “What did you see, Deo? Tell me all of it. I want to know.”
Deolina pulled her sleeve back up. “I didn’t mean to say nothin’. I really didn’t. Grann is right. Did you hear me, Gran? I give dat one to you. No need to go inside my brain and slap sense into me.”
Ysabeau cradled her head. She felt like she was drowning and no one would throw her a rope. “If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to scream.”
Grann tipped her chin up and kissed her on the forehead. There was so much love shining in her face, so much fear. “We don’t know. My cards, the spirit, Deo, all predict terrible devastation. We don’t know if it’s war, a hurricane, a nuclear bomb, or the apocalypse. It’s bad. People are going to die.”
“Luke’s out there all alone!” She jumped to her feet. “I have to find him.”
Deo shook her head. “It’s better dat way.”
“No!” Ysabeau yelled. “He doesn’t know the area, the language, anyone.” She paced, hugging herself. “Oh, I said some really mean things to him. Horrible things.”
“Who could blame you? Dat man took your clinic and tossed it away like a chunk of rot. You trusted him and he left your dreams to die!” Deolina spat.
“Not exactly,” Grann whispered.
They both looked at her.
Grann shrugged. “Before he left, he gave me this.” She pulled the check out of her bra. “He promised there would be more.”
When Ysabeau took the check, her eyes watered. “Oh. My. Gosh.”
Deolina leaned over Ysabeau’s shoulder and squealed. “Holy Mother, Saint Joseph and baby Jesus! I’ve never seen so many zeroes in my life! Gran, did you see dis?”
Grann shook her head in exasperation. “Who do you think he gave it to?”
“Oh. Right. Ysabeau, dat much money should help your patients.” Deolina’s eyes were shining with glee. “I did not see dis coming.”
“This is terrible.” Ysabeau blinked. “I can’t take this.”
Grann and Deo both gaped at her.
“It’s too much. He must have taken money from his daughter’s account,” Ysabeau said. “I can’t let him do this.”
“So?” Deolina asked. “One girl you don’t even know? Why do you care?”
“We’re friends and she’s very sick. I can’t take her money.”
Deolina chewed on her lip. “Huh. I didn’t see dat one coming either.”
Grann cocked her head. “Maybe you’re not seeing anything right these days. You could’ve been wrong the whole time about the Guardian, keeping them apart, the horrible thing…all of it. Why do I listen to you?”
Deolina crossed her arms. “Hmpf. Always so high and mighty.”
“High and mighty? We’ve done everything you suggested. Every last thing and as far as I c
an tell, it’s all been a mistake. So tell us, Deolina, have your visions changed now that we’ve kept Ysabeau and Luke apart?” Grann asked.
Deolina’s gaze hit the floor and stayed there. “I wouldn’t know. I, uh, stopped having visions after the Voodoo ceremony. You must have put the hex on me.”
“I did not! Wait, does this mean…?” Grann smiled brightly and slapped her thigh. “Did we fix the future after all? The bad thing is gone?”
“I still feel that ache.” Deolina pressed her hand to her diaphragm. “Like the first time the bad vision walloped me. I think it’s still comin’ and just as evil. We must stay together. Here.”
Ysabeau shook her head. “No. I’m going to find him.”
“Now, Ysa. We don’t want you outside runnin’ around. Stay here so we can keep you protected,” Deolina said.
Grann nodded. “Oh, child. All I wanted, all I ever wanted, was to keep you safe.”
“How can I stay here when Luke is in danger? Even if this is the last day on earth, I want to be with him. Don’t you see? I love him.”
Deo’s mouth fell open. “Now I should have seen dat comin’.”
Grann rose and rubbed Ysabeau’s arm. “You love him?”
“Yes, and now it’s too late. I really made a mess of this. I told him I never want to see him again. Now…” She turned and buried her face in Gran’s chest. “Now maybe I won’t.”
Deolina hefted herself off the couch. “Lovin’ a man doesn’t change nothin’.”
“Yes, it does,” Grann said firmly. “It changes everything.”
“How can you say dat?” Deolina said.
Grann narrowed her eyes at Deo. “A woman needs to be with her man when terror strikes. When the world explodes in her face, a woman should be holding his hand, standing beside him, taking comfort from his strong arms.”
Deolina hissed. “So dat’s what dis is about?”
“You bet your big round ass it is!” Gran’s voice rose. “Where was my man when the police came the night our daughter was killed? When Ysabeau’s mama and daddy left this earth? You tell me!”
Ysabeau stepped back. “Oh, Gran.”
Deolina crossed her arms and shifted her weight. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m sorry, really I am.”
“You can never be sorry enough.” Grann snarled. “Where was my husband when I collapsed in a pile of grief? When I begged those policemen to take out their guns and put a bullet in my head to kill the pain. Where was my love? Where, Deo?”
Deolina’s voice was as eerily quiet as the whispers of a ghost. “You know where he was.”
“Gran, please,” Ysabeau pleaded. “Don’t do this now.”
“Say it!” Grann yelled.
“Your man was with me,” Deolina said. “My house. My bed. My arms. You happy now?”
“No. I am not. You stole happiness right out of my arms.” Grann blinked her bloodshot eyes. “That’s why Ysabeau must go to the Hotel Montana. She needs to be with Luke when hell breaks loose.”
“The Montana? Is that where he is?” Ysabeau asked.
“Oh, no. She’s goin’ after him. Sweet Mother. She can’t…go. Not…after all…” Deolina’s body jerked straight, her gaze went glassy.
“Deolina?” Ysabeau spoke softly.
Grann put her finger to her lips. Deolina was having a vision.
Ysabeau broke into a sweat as she waited for Deolina to snap out of it. Several seconds passed and Ysabeau fought an intense urge to shake Deolina awake. Was she seeing Luke? What was going to happen?
Finally, finally, a scary pale and trembling Deolina turned toward Ysabeau. Her eyes were focused and clear when she said, “Well. If you’ve gotta leave, I’m not lettin’ you go unprepared.” She jumped up and rushed to the kitchen. After a lot of banging, she returned with her arms filled with three water bottles, two bananas, an apple, a few granola bars, and half a chicken. “Keep these in your purse. Just in case…” Her voice trailed off.
Ysabeau put the chicken back in the refrigerator—she wasn’t about to carry around half of a chicken in her purse—and shoved the rest into her oversized bag. “In case of what?”
No one answered the question. Instead, Grann made a quick sign of the cross on Ysabeau’s forehead, followed by a kiss. “Hurry! I’ve got a bad feeling there isn’t much time.”
With those strange words in her spinning head, Ysabeau raced outside to find her man.
Chapter Twenty-One
‡
The cab driver sped up a hill and pulled into a semi-circular drive. Luke looked out the window to see a multi-tiered hotel. Stopping the car, the cabbie muttered something in Kreyòl and jumped out of the driver’s seat.
Luke followed him to the back of the cab and took his luggage out of the man’s hands. “Thanks, I got it.”
The man was squirrely. He wiggled around as if he wanted nothing more than to be far away from the tall American who argued with the High Priestess of Light. Luke put the man out of his misery and paid him. Quickly pocketing his money, the cabbie jumped back into the car without so much as a grunt goodbye and sped away.
The Hotel Montana was a white, five-story building. Lush palms and some sort of greenery hung over the balconies. Large red flowers and deep green banana-leafed plants dripped over the terraced walls. A giant mahogany tree that had to be decades old, if not centuries, stood guard in front of the hotel. This place looked good, but it wasn’t Ysabeau’s couch in her cheery home. It wasn’t paradise.
A doorman approached him. “Staying with us, sir?’
He frowned. “Apparently.”
“Welcome, sir. The lobby is this direction.” The doorman pointed to open French doors beneath an overhang.
Nodding, he went inside.
He still hadn’t sorted it all out. What he really wanted to do was to run to Ysabeau, fall on his knees, and beg for her forgiveness. It was crazy-fast but he’d fallen in love with her. He knew himself. The feeling would only grow stronger, deeper, and more intense. Wanting her would not go away if he hopped on a plane and went back home. He wasn’t that kind of man. She’d gotten under his skin and there was not one damned thing he could do about it.
In his wildest dreams, Ysabeau would accept his apologies and forgive him. Maybe she’d admit that she loved him too, a little. Or, since it was a wild dream, she would come clean to loving him completely and intensely too. They’d seal the deal with hot, sweet kisses that would go on for weeks and fly back to California together. Life would all work out. Love would heal all.
And pigs would fly by with golden wings.
He mentally slapped himself.
Ysabeau was a kind, loving woman, but she’d never forgive him. Why should she? As far as she was concerned, he was a liar who allowed her dreams and her sick patients to die. He might as well have killed them all with his bare hands.
He could fantasize all day long, but the truth was the truth. They were done.
“Checking in?” A man behind a curved mahogany counter asked.
“Yeah,” Luke said, even though it felt very much like he was checking out.
“Are you with Food for the Poor, Compassion International, or the United Methodist Committee on Relief?” the man asked.
“Pardon?”
The man smiled brightly. “These are some of the organizations staying with us this week. Many people come to make life better for Haitians.”
Luke groaned. “No. I’m not one of them.”
“Okay, sir. How many nights will you be staying?”
*
Ysabeau drove through the crowded streets. She glanced at her watch. Four twenty-five. She’d hit going-home traffic and had a terrible feeling she wasn’t going to make it to Luke before It—whatever It was—struck.
A car in front of her slammed on its brakes and she nearly rear-ended it. “Come on! Move it!” she yelled at the traffic.
Didn’t they know they were all in trouble?
She couldn’t lose Luke. Not like
this. Her eyes welled with tears.
Screeching around the car in front of her, she sped toward the Hotel Montana.
*
With a room card in his pocket, Luke left the check-in counter. He walked under a large square chandelier. It was off-white with a dark brown checkered pattern. Looking up, he saw people laughing on the second floor, enjoying their stay in the four-star hotel. He massaged the tension in his neck. It could be a good thing to sleep on a regular bed. With a good night’s sleep, he might be able to formulate a plan on how to convince Ysabeau to leave the clinic behind and come home with him. It was doubtful, but a desperate man could hope.
He made his way through the open lobby to elevators framed with rich mahogany wood that matched the elegant check-in counter. Entering the elevator, he pressed the button for the fifth floor and leaned against the handrail at the back of the car. He was exhausted and so damn sad. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he leaned forward and studied his face. The bruises were barely smudges, the lump was nothing more than a sore spot, and all of his things that had been stolen had been returned. If he went home this minute it would be as if he had never come to Haiti.
“Shitshitshit,” he mumbled and walked down the long corridor to his room. He had to fix this. Had to get her back, or die trying.
The suite was clean, bright, and much more space than he needed. There was a living room with a denim couch and two matching chairs, a mahogany desk and chair, and television. White curtains embroidered with red and yellow banana leaves draped the windows. He opened a door and walked out onto a tiled balcony.
The heat outside the air-conditioned suite hit him like a punch in the face. He rested one foot on the short wall encompassing his private balcony and looked out to the expansive view. It was a surreal thing to stand here inside the magnificent hotel lush with plants, and look across to the deforested hillside where a multitude of houses were piled one on top of the other. It struck him this was exactly what he’d been doing all along—living in his safe, wealthy home and making momentous decisions that affected hundreds of lives. Those people over there—in tiny houses without running water, stable nutrition, or medical care—were Ysabeau’s people. And here he stood in his air-conditioned room, with his comfortable bed, hot shower, and room service.