Shark Out of Water Page 5

  Guy was forced to put such thoughts out of his mind when the music resounded through the hall. The wedding party began walking after hearing their cue. Guy never minded being in the processional. All the members ever got was a cursory glance as the eyes of the congregation slipped past them to wait for the entrance of the bride. He found that this time was different. He had done this before, but never for two people whom he truly cared for. A smile formed on his lips as he released Leila’s sister-in-law and took his place next to Eli.

  He noticed his friend’s fingers were twitching as the wedding march began to play and the congregation stood in anticipation of Leila’s entrance. All eyes were on her as she stepped forward. Next to him, Eli let out a long, shaky breath. When he looked over at him, his eyes were glassy with tears, a grin stretching his lips.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Eli whispered.

  Guy nodded his agreement. Leila was gorgeous, as always, even more so when she was so obviously happy, wearing the dress meant only for this day. No doubt Eli was thinking of how the dress almost never came to be. When Eli thought Leila had chosen Luke, the man she had been dating while she and Eli became friends, over him, he decided to bow out gracefully, and quite firmly, despite everyone else’s advice. Luckily, Leila was just as determined to keep him as he had been to step aside and do what he thought was right. Guy had later learned from Sabine how Leila marched into the restaurant and slapped her future husband for being so foolish as to abandon her without a fight, before admitting she was desperately in love with him. Guy smiled, wishing he had been there.

  Leila walked down the aisle in her now legendary dress, beaming up at her groom while tears spilled down her cheeks. By the time her father kissed her cheek and handed her off to Eli, her eyes were somewhat dry, but she had to reach up and wipe away Eli’s tears. The majority of the congregation was not fairing any better. Sniffles and joyful tears filled the hall.

  Unlike many of the other weddings Guy had attended, he paid attention to every word. The pastor spoke of unconditional love and sacrifice, of being faithful and true to the end. Usually, Guy was pessimistic about such talk, but he believed Leila and Eli could live up to the promises they were making.

  When the ceremony finally reached the pronouncement of marriage, Leila grabbed Eli and pulled him into a kiss that left everyone cheering. Guy laughed at her enthusiasm, clapping Eli on the back with approval when they finally separated. After that, it seemed as if chaos broke loose.

  The guests headed for the reception hall, but the wedding party was left waiting for the photographer to decide if the light snow that had begun to fall outside had changed Eli’s and Leila’s minds about doing a few outdoor photographs. Eventually everyone agreed the snow was light enough to brave it, and they were bustled outside to the garden for as many pictures as the cold would allow. When everyone’s noses began to turn red, the picture taking continued indoors, much to everyone’s relief. It seemed an age before they were finally released.

  On their way to the reception hall, Leila slipped her hand onto Guy’s forearm. “You know,” she said, “I was just teasing about you needing to bring a date.”

  “I did not…not really. She is just a friend.”

  “She’s very pretty,” Leila said, hinting that she did not believe him.

  Guy waved off her comment. “She is also very happily married with a three-year-old little girl. She is like my sister.”

  Looking up at him curiously, Leila asked, “Why did you invite her? No one would have said anything if you came alone. We all know you aren’t really as cavalier as you pretend.”

  “I did not want a date this weekend. Only a friend,” Guy said. “It has been a long week.”

  “I hear ya,” Leila laughed. “Well, I’m glad you invited her. I’d love to meet the woman who can befriend Guy Saint Laurent and not end up between the sheets with him.”

  Guy ignored the last bit of her comment, not in the mood for joking. “Carmody would be pleased to meet you as well. She has become irritated with me many times for not having introduced her and Michael to everyone already.

  “How long have you and Carmody been friends?” Leila asked.

  Suddenly, Guy felt uncomfortable, though he could not explain why. “I began tutoring her in French my sophomore year at university.”

  Leila tried to hide her surprise, but failed quite miserably. “And no one has met her yet? Why not?”

  The question only added to his discomfort. “She was…different. We did not interact socially at university, but we became friends. I missed my family and Carmody filled that space somehow. It did not fit with the others. I could relax when we talked, I suppose. I enjoyed our dynamic without other distractions.”

  “I’m even more curious to meet her now. It’s not easy to get you to let down your guard. She must be very special.” Leila squeezed his arm, but was then pulled away by Eli to wait for the wedding party to enter the reception hall ahead of them. Someone announced the members of the wedding party as they entered, though the guests were all more interested in seeing the bride and groom. Eli and Leila were announced shortly after, to many cheers and much applause.

  The members of the wedding party all headed for their table ahead of Eli and Leila, who were stopped more than once by guests, but Guy made a slight detour. He spotted Carmody sitting next to Stephanie, Vance’s girlfriend, and headed in her direction. Stephanie was speaking quickly, and over everyone else, as usual. Guy did not want to interrupt, but Carmody saw him and took the lead.

  “The ceremony was beautiful,” Carmody said as she stood to greet Guy.

  “Oui, it was lovely.”

  “Don’t you just love his accent?” Stephanie said, her eyes obviously watching Carmody’s reaction. Clearly, she was curious as well about Guy’s friend. Guy huffed and turned away from Stephanie, speaking only to Carmody.

  “I must sit at the wedding party table, but I wanted to make sure you were doing all right. If you would like…” His words trailed off as a woman with long caramel colored hair caught his eye. He could swear it was Charlotte until she turned around and he saw that the shape of the woman’s face was slightly off.

  Carmody touched his shoulder gently. “Guy, are you okay?”

  It took him a moment to shake off his unsettled feeling and respond. “I am fine. I just thought I…”

  “Saw someone you knew again? The same woman?”

  Guy shook his head, but he was not sure if it was a yes or no. Why was he having such a difficult time getting the woman from the hallway out of his head? It had been happening all week, as though he were constantly searching for her even when he was not. His wonderings were interrupted by a buzz from his pocket. All of his friends were either at the wedding with him, or knew he was there and would not disturb him. He was instantly anxious as he realized the only person who would be calling him would be someone from the hospital. What is it now? Could they not give him one day off?

  Reluctantly, Guy pulled his phone from his pocket and sighed when he saw it was indeed from the hospital. “Doctor Saint Laurent,” Guy answered.

  “Guy,” Kit said timidly.

  Surprised by her cautious tone, and the fact that she addressed him only by his first name, Guy focused his full attention on the call. “Kit, is something wrong? You are all right, yes?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, but the trembling in her voice disagreed.

  “You do not sound fine. What is the problem?”

  Kit let out a long and shaky breath. “Guy, Dr. Phillips from the inpatient treatment center called. He…” Her breathing hitched, filling Guy with dread. Slowly, he lowered himself to the nearest chair. “Guy, he said…it’s Patricia. She…Guy, I’m so sorry, but she committed suicide an hour ago.”

  All at once, he was no longer sitting. He stumbled up from the table, ignoring concerned voices calling after him, and walked like a ghost to the nearest exit. Falling against a wall, his body slid down as his cell phone slipped from his f
ingers. He could feel Carmody’s gentle hand on his shoulder, hear her voice trying to speak with him, but he could not respond.

  “J'ai fait le mauvais choix,” he muttered as his head fell into his hands. He neither felt nor heard anything after that. The same thought kept thundering through his head. He made the wrong choice.

  Chapter 6

  Si elle est partagée

  Call me!

  Vance texted.

  Guy felt like throwing the phone as he pulled the door to the patient’s room closed. His thumbs tapped out his reply angrily.

  Non! At work.

  What? Why?

  Why did Vance think Guy had to explain himself? He tapped out another frustrated reply.

  Canton sick. Leave me alone.

  I will not leave you alone! You should not be at work after what happened.

  There is no one else

  Guy sent back, out of patience. He jammed his phone into his pocket and ignored the next several buzzes. He did not need Vance holding his hand all day.

  Stalking up to the nurses’ station, Guy’s impatience continued to mount. “Where is… the chart, where is the chart I asked for?”

  Kit jumped at his harsh tone and started shifting through paperwork. “I’m sorry, I had to enter in another patient.”

  “I asked for it twenty minutes ago!”

  “I’m sorry,” Kit said frantically. She shoved charts and loose items aside. “It’s here. I just saw it.”

  “Why is this area such a mess?”

  “I’m sorry, I just…” Kit’s eyes closed tightly as she pressed a hand to her forehead, trying not to lose control of her emotions. Guy just shook his head impatiently. He opened his mouth to demand she find the chart, but just as his lips parted, another voice cut in.

  “Dr. Guy, I need to speak with you privately,” Christine said in a manner that left no room for negotiation.

  Guy did not take to being bossed around. “You do not tell me…”

  “I will tell you,” Christine snapped. She grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the desk and the tearful Kit.

  Guy was too shocked to respond right away, but managed to regain control as they rounded the corner. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Do you think you’re the only one affected by news of Patricia?”

  “You barely knew her,” Guy snapped. How dare she estimate her feelings to be the same as his. She knew nothing of what he went through with Patricia.

  Christine jammed her hands onto her hips and glared at Guy so fiercely it snapped his furious thoughts to a sudden halt. “How many times has she landed herself in the hospital since you’ve been working here? At least half a dozen!” She shook her head, fed up with him. “We knew her and we cared about her. No, we didn’t have the history with her that you did, but we all knew how much she meant to you, and that made us care about her even more. Kit was devastated when Dr. Phillips called. After she told you, I had to send her home because she couldn’t stop crying, for Patricia, and for what it did to you. How dare you tell us that we didn’t know her well enough to be affected by her death. You had no right to treat Kit the way you just did.”

  Shocked into silence, Guy could not respond. His heart had stopped when Kit told him what had happened. He had not thought of how the news would affect anyone else. He did not even realize the other staff members cared so much. Christine’s words cut him deeply. “Christine, je suis désolé.”

  “I hope that’s an apology,” Christine said.

  “Oui, I feel terrible for my actions.” Guy shook his head. “I did not think.”

  Gently, Christine patted him on the shoulder. “I know you’re hurting right now, Dr. Guy. Just remember, we’re here for you. You did everything you could for Patricia.”

  Even more than her earlier berating, those words hurt him worse than anything else. Had he done everything? Had he made the right choice? Guy no longer knew. Patricia was dead, and his choices had led her to that point. Closing his eyes, Guy took a deep breath. He refused to give in to his emotions. Not here.

  “You might want to talk to Kit,” Christine said. “She really looks up to you.”

  Perhaps she should not, Guy thought to himself. He did not voice his thoughts. Instead, he nodded and thanked Christine for keeping him from hurting Kit any more than he already had. She gave him a sad smile before walking away. It took Guy several long moments before he was composed enough to approach the nurses’ station again.

  She must have heard his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum as he approached, because she turned her head, but then looked back down immediately. Guy paused, hating the hurt in her eyes. He took a hesitant step forward. “Kit?”

  Jumping at the sound of his voice, she looked over at him slowly. The chart he had yelled at her about was clutched in her hands. Guy reached forward and took it from her, setting it on the counter. Her bottom lip began to tremble. “Dr. Guy, I’m sorry…”

  He shook his head, cutting her off. “I am the one who needs to apologize. I should not have spoken to you so harshly. I am very sorry, Kit. Please, forgive me.”

  “Of course I forgive you, Dr. Guy. I’m just so sorry about what happened to Patricia. I know she was your friend.”

  “I should have thought of how her death would have hurt you, too. You all took good care of her and tried to help her. I was selfish in my pain.” Guy’s eyes dropped, ashamed, yet still filled with agony.

  Kit hesitantly tapped on his arm. “Dr. Guy,” she whispered. When he did not immediately respond to the slight panic in her voice, she jostled his arm more adamantly. “Dr. Guy, look!”

  Glancing up, Guy turned to look where Kit’s other hand was pointing. He froze halfway through the motion and nearly bolted at the sight of Patricia’s parents standing right in front of him. They both stood, clutching each other, looking tortured and frail. His hand grasped the counter to keep himself from either running or falling. He could not face them. He knew he would break under their justly deserved accusations.

  “Guy,” Patricia’s mother said softly, “may we speak with you in private?” Her husband only nodded absently.

  “I…” He faltered, not sure he could respond.

  Kit’s hand rested on his arm softly, drawing his eyes down to hers. She nodded with strength and support filling her eyes. “We’ll take care of everything out here, Dr. Guy. Go ahead.”

  It was difficult to look back up at Patricia’s parents. His stomach lurched when their eyes met. “Oui,” he said weakly, “follow me.”

  Guy’s feet felt heavy as he led them to his office. The seconds seemed to last impossibly long. Yet, the moment he touched the door to his office, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he felt he had reached it much too soon. It took all his strength to turn the handle and push the door open. Somehow, they all ended up seated in chairs a few moments later.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Winselm, I am so sorry for your loss. Patricia was…a dear friend.” His chest tightened at having to refer to his friendship with Patricia in the past tense. It was over, and it was his fault.

  Mrs. Winselm startled Guy by reaching across his desk and grasping his hand in hers. “We are so glad she had you to take care of her. You were the only one she trusted.”

  “But…” Guy shook his head. “But I was wrong. She should not have trusted me to decide what was right for her.”

  Mr. Winselm finally looked up, perplexed. “What do you mean? You did everything you could. No other doctor has taken so much time to try and help her.”

  “She told me,” Guy argued. “She told me she would harm herself if I let them take her away. I did not listen. I thought she would be better off at a facility instead of releasing her.”

  Tears fell from Mrs. Winselm’s eyes. “Guy, you can’t blame yourself. Patricia was very troubled. She threatened to take her own life every time she was confronted.”

  “But she meant it this time. I did not listen. I should have known she would follow through.�
�� He shook his head, angry at himself, angry at them for their efforts to wash away his guilt. “If I had released her, she would still be alive.”

  Mr. Winselm’s stricken expression did not change at all, but his empty eyes looked up at Guy. “If you would have released her, she would have died on the street. We wouldn’t have known where she was, or had the chance to see her again before it happened. Thank you for giving us that.”

  Guy sat in confused silence. Why were they not mad at him? Cursing him for his mistake? Screaming at him for his part in their daughter’s death? They were thanking him? Guy shook his head. This was not right. He deserved their blame. He wanted it.

  “We came to ask,” Mrs. Winselm said, a tremor in her voice now, “if you would be willing to be a pallbearer at her funeral. It will be this Thursday at our church.” She slid a neatly printed note onto Guy’s desk that contained all the pertinent information. “I know you may need time to think about it, but Patricia would have wanted you to be there.”

  She seemed so sure, but all Guy could think of were Patricia’s parting words to him. I hate you. Would she want him anywhere near her funeral?

  “Please think about it,” she said as she pulled her husband to standing. “We won’t keep you any longer. We know you have other patients to take care of.”

  Guy stood woodenly. Walking around the desk, he could only stand in front of them and blink. He was nearly knocked over by Mrs. Winselm throwing her arms around him. “Thank you for everything you did for our daughter. I know she didn’t always show it, but she loved you very much. You were her dearest friend.”

  She pulled away then, tugging her husband out of Guy’s office before he could respond or break down. Part of Guy wanted to collapse back into his chair and stay there for the rest of the day. Another part of him wanted to run. He no longer had the strength to resist the urge to escape anything that reminded him of Patricia.