Falter Page 7

  I finally understood what he saw. I guess it depends on what you took from it. Two lines crossing each other? Or, the sign of the Devil? It was a pretty far-fetched comparison, but the weird supernatural-like shit happening to me lately made me ponder on the symbol far longer than I was comfortable with.

  “Doctor, you don’t know how it got there, but I do. These are the kinds of things I was telling you about.”

  I was pissed. And not knowing exactly what I was mad about made me even more pissed. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t witnessed the crazy things going on in my head. I needed him to assure me that there was a reasonable explanation for my experiences even though I didn’t feel there was.

  “I’m sure it will be fine. Under high amounts of stress, we tend to do harm to ourselves without realizing it. I’ll write you something to help you relax. If you have any more problems, let me know.” He waited for me to approve the plan.

  Did he just imply that I did this to myself?

  I nodded and kept my anger silent. I wanted to get out of this place.

  He held out his hand, palm up and open. “It was nice to meet you. The nurses will be here with your paperwork soon.”

  I half-heartedly shook his hand, “Thanks.” For nothing.

  Gavyn saw me sulking through the automated double doors and stood to greet me. The others did the same as I made my way through the lobby.

  “Oh my gosh. Hon, are you alright?” Layla hurried toward me in a fuss.

  She held me at arm’s length and looked over me. Her eyes were worried as she smoothed back the tousled hair from my face. When she caught a glimpse of the singed skin on my forehead, her expression hardened and her eyes narrowed. Did Layla perceive the mark in the same manner as the doctor?

  Something about her demeanor shifted during that brief moment, and then her sweet southern smile reappeared.

  “I’m fine, just scratched myself. The brain is okay though.” I tapped my temple with my index finger and forced a smile to ease their minds. Hopefully, they couldn’t tell the difference between a scratch and a burn.

  George exhaled a deep breath of relief. “What did he say it was?”

  “Stress, like you said.” An I-told-you-so grin replaced his fear for my insanity.

  Gavyn moved to stand beside me, quiet and supportive. His closeness quickly unraveled my nervous knots. I gazed up at his wary face and smiled. He hesitated then returned the smile, but the lack of genuine happiness and the crease in his brow did nothing to convince me that all was well.

  He slid his warm fingers between mine. “We’re ready to go then?”

  George caught our gesture and pretended not to notice as he passed Gavyn and me, heading for the door. Layla, however, fisted the hem of her jacket and rushed after George as if she was bothered by Gavyn’s action.

  “Definitely.” My feet couldn’t get me out of there fast enough.

  Gavyn grazed my face with his other hand and pulled the hair off my forehead. “How did that really happen?” he whispered, observing the mark intently.

  I patted his hand away. “Long story. It’s not important.” It wasn’t long, just a bit wacko. And at this point, I didn’t care to burden this man with any more of my issues. We left it at that, and I pulled him into motion, following the others through the E.R. exit doors.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Beware of the Changing Tides

  By the time we returned to the café, it was dark and almost closing time. Only a few diners lingered quietly at their tables. One cook remained in the kitchen, and the older woman with grey hair waited on the last of the customers. Some of the chairs were already stacked on the tables and the condiments were refilled.

  Slow, heavy music filled the café. Blues. An appropriate ambiance for how I felt. I was more discouraged now than before our trip to the hospital. I couldn’t accept stress as a real reason for all that happened. It irritated me that I had to dump so much on the others and still didn’t find the answers I needed.

  George and Layla dispersed silently to check on their stations and finish up for the night. Gavyn stopped to talk with one of the patrons. I walked behind the bar and grabbed a rag, wet it, then returned to the dining area to begin cleaning the recently cleared tables. I was thankful for the busy work. It helped me ignore the matters at hand, as well as the growing snowball of questions building momentum in my mind.

  “What do you think your doin’?” A hand gripped my elbow, abruptly ending my movement.

  “My job?” I looked at Gavyn, surprised and unsure of why he stopped me.

  “Uh, don’t you think you’ve had enough on your plate today?”

  “Look, it’s helping me relax,” I huffed. “I need to work on paying you back anyway.”

  “I really think you should take it easy for the rest of the night.” He glared at me as if he could will me to surrender the rag.

  “Let me do this, please,” I pleaded. His grip on my arm was firm, but I could feel it wavering at my refusal to give up.

  “Okay, but then you go take a bath or something—and rest.”

  “Whatever you say,” I responded, only slightly toning down my sarcasm.

  He gave me a do it or die sneer, then smiled and marched towards the bar.

  Images of the ghostly phantom from earlier flickered into my mind. The harder I tried to forget it, the more it prevailed in haunting me. I suddenly felt the child in me want to call out for my mother, the way that children often do when they are afraid. George was nice to have, but nothing could compare to a mother’s touch during hard times.

  Even though my memories of my mother were limited to a few precious moments shared as a toddler, I still understood how much she could’ve helped me throughout my life. Every day, I missed the way her long dark curls coiled around my tiny finger as she held me. I would breathe in her scent, nestling my face perfectly against her warm neck. Hints of honeysuckle and clover always hushed my fears. Knowing she was there to sit beside me if I needed her was enough to console me during any crisis.

  Enough, Nevaeh. You are a grown woman. You can’t go crying to mommy now.

  I shook my head to brush the feelings of self-pity aside. I would figure something out and deal with this like any other adult.

  I finished tidying the tables as the last customer paid for his meal and said his goodbyes to the staff. I watched the silver-haired gentleman enclose Gavyn’s hand between both of his. The gesture spoke of friendship, trust, and appreciation.

  Gavyn smiled at the man and pulled him into his side, cuddling him under one arm. They slowly walked to the door.

  “See you for dinner tomorrow, Tom?”

  The old man confirmed with a nod.

  Gavyn winked a goodnight to him before Tom stepped out of the door. Gavyn stood at the door, peering out the window until Tom was out of sight, then hurried to the kitchen.

  I strolled over to the door and twisted the lock before flipping the small “Closed” sign around to signal the end of our business day. It swung back and forth in the window bringing my attention to the dozens of fingerprints smudging the glass. Spinning too quickly to grab the cleaner from the hostess’s podium, I bounced off Gavyn’s chest. The man had a knack for sneaking up on me. I glanced up at his face with wide eyes, relinquishing my usual unease with personal contact, and happily accepted the warmth of his body so close to mine.

  He laughed and rubbed his chest, playfully feigning pain. “You should really watch where you’re going.”

  “Excuse me. I thought you were in a different room.” I bowed my head, embarrassed.

  With a gentle finger under my chin, he tilted my head upward. “I was just kidding, Nevaeh. I told you to rest. Will I have to draw your bath myself?” His expression showed his joking manner, but there was a glint of hope in his eyes that begged me to say yes to the invitation.

  “I’ll manage just fine, thanks. I was on my way right now.” I walked past him and felt the heat of his gaze on my body as I disappeared into t
he dark hallway.

  I soaked in the tub until my fingers were pruned. After getting out and performing my nightly ritual, I padded across the hall to the lounge and set up the blankets for my bed. George’s couch was empty, so I spread out his comforter as well. I felt guilty going to bed while he was still working, so I set out to check on George and make sure he didn’t need help.

  Gavyn and Layla’s voices crept down the hall from the café area. I ignored their whispered conversation and rounded the corner into the kitchen. I passed the cold stoves and glistening countertops, then followed the back hall to where George was. When I stepped into the washroom, he was slumped over the side of the sink.

  “George? Are you ok?”

  He straightened quickly, startled by my voice. “I’m fine, girl.” A weak smile tugged at his lips, then he continued washing the dish in his hand. “Did ya need something?”

  I wandered to his side, assessing the pile of plates he had left to clean. “I was just checking on you. Will you be much longer?” I reached down and picked up a dish from the rinse sink. George offered me a towel, and I accepted. I wiped the cloth over the smooth porcelain until the water was gone, then set it on a stack of dried dishes beside me.

  “No, I think I’m about done here. I’m really tired anyway.” His voice was drained and heavier than usual. I studied his sluggish movements and weary disposition. There was something else, something different in his behavior, that I couldn’t quite figure out. He had changed since this afternoon.

  I nodded, draping the towel over his shoulder, then rubbed my hand across his back. “Okay, I’ll make our beds while you finish.” He leaned into the kiss I placed on his cheek. Before leaving the washroom, I scanned over him once more. He settled back into his slouch. I frowned, noticing that his breathing had deepened as if he was struggling to get enough air.

  On the way back to the lounge, a slow panic started to rise in my chest, and I feared the worst for George. Thinking back on the last day or two, I realized there was an obvious change in his appearance. He looked tired. Strained. His skin was pale, and his eyes were a little more sunken and darker than normal. Consumed by my own problems, I hadn’t paid much attention to the old man. Guilt tightened around my heart while I attempted to rein in my fear for George’s health.

  As I walked down the dark back hall, past the walk-in freezer and the pantry, I heard Gavyn’s voice coming from the kitchen. Layla’s soft giggle caught me off guard when it chimed through the air after Gavyn’s muffled words. Not wanting to interrupt, I froze and started rethinking my route to the lounge.

  “Oh, Gavyn. I don’t understand why you keep fighting me?” Her voice was different. She didn’t sound like her typical sweet self—she sounded playful and dangerous.

  “Layla, I don’t understand why you refuse to accept that we can’t be together. You know how I feel about dating employees. I value our friendship and would hate for something like this to ruin it.”

  I peeked around the corner and saw Layla sitting on the counter with her long, beautiful legs crossed under a short skirt. Gavyn stood next to her, his strong hands working hard to fix a broken door hinge on an overhead cabinet.

  She leaned toward him, her slender hand rising to touch his face. I knew it wasn’t right to watch them, but curiosity was getting the best of me. I needed to see his reaction to her for some strange reason.

  She gently urged his face to look at hers. Her manner was different, very aggressive and seductive. Even I could feel her intent, and I was ten feet away. He stopped what he was doing and stared at her with slight aggravation in his eyes.

  She grinned. “Let go for a minute. See what you are missing.” She leaned in further and slid her hand to the back of his head, guiding his lips to hers.

  Gavyn tensed and pulled away from her grasp just before their lips touched. He slowly tugged her hand from his head, placing it back in her lap. “I told you that this isn’t right. If you can’t accept it, I’ll be forced to change our working arrangements.” He was polite, but stern.

  Layla blew out in frustration and uncrossed her legs, her body rigid with anger. “I don’t care what you do. I’m not gonna stop trying.” There was fire in her eyes now. She liked the challenge. “You know we belong together.” Layla hopped off the counter and sauntered to the door. She stopped and turned, resting her fists on her perfectly proportioned hips. “If you’re so hell-bent on not dating employees, what are you doing with Nevaeh?”

  I choked on a breath. Layla’s question stunned me. I waited for him to answer, but he never did. An unpleasant silence idled between them—between all three of us.

  I started to edge past the doorway, eager to escape the tension. The pang of a metal bucket, kicked by my foot, shattered the silence—and my effort to flee the uncomfortable scene. I attempted a smooth recovery and finished my noisy entrance into the kitchen, acting as if I’d just gotten there.

  With them both staring at me, I felt the need to persuade them that I wasn’t standing there eavesdropping. “Oh, hey guys. Sorry for making such a racket. Haven’t learned my way around this place in the dark, yet.” Still no response from the two, just awkwardness. “Um, I was checking on George before I went to bed. Did you need me for anything else?”

  Good one, offer help, pretend you didn’t hear a thing. Hah, right.

  Gavyn’s lips curled up at one corner in a smirk. “No, I think we’re finished here.” He looked sharply at Layla before picking up a screwdriver from his toolbox and returning to the cabinet-work.

  “Yeah. For now.” She glared at Gavyn and then at me. Spinning on her heels, Layla left the kitchen, every bit of her confidence intact.

  “I thought we agreed that you would watch where you were going?” His lovely smile widened while he focused on the cabinet door.

  “Sorry. I’m going to the lounge now. See you in the morning.” I rushed to leave the kitchen before he could talk.

  “Nevaeh?”

  Shit, my plan didn’t work.

  “Hmm?” I answered innocently.

  “If you want to talk about what’s goin’ on...,” he paused, stopping his task to look at me.

  The words flew out of my mouth. “Nope, I’m good. Don’t need to know anything. You and Layla are none of my business.”

  “No…no, I meant what’s going on with you,” he quickly answered, chuckling.

  I was certain my cheeks were blood red. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think it’s anything you want to hear.” I smiled at him appreciatively and left the kitchen.

  George’s footsteps were weighty and slow coming down the hall. I listened as he went into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. The shower running provided a nice waterfall effect in the quiet café and eased my restlessness.

  I lay on my little couch thinking of Layla. She seemed completely out of character tonight, and it bothered me. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Who am I to judge someone I barely know? She’s been nothing but nice to me. So what if she likes Gavyn? It’s not as if anything was happening between us. Why would it? He’s just being nice, right? But the fact that he didn’t answer Layla’s last question sparked my interest. If given enough time, what would he have said?

  A shadow blocked the faint light coming in from the hallway. I let my eyes focus on the figure and waited for it to speak.

  “Hey, hon. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was gonna leave you some more clothes,” Layla whispered, now playing the part of the sweet woman I thought I knew. Maybe I was analyzing things too much.

  “Thanks. You really don’t have to keep giving up your clothes for me.”

  She set them on the chair next to the door. “Oh please.” She waved her hand in dismissal, “I don’t mind. I always wanted a sister I could dress up. Besides, you need all the help you can get, right?” There was a cruel, stinging undertone to her words.

  “Well...thanks again.” I ignored her odd behavior, hoping she didn’t mean anything by that.

  “See yo
u in the mornin’. Sweet dreams.” Layla disappeared into the shadows, leaving me with many suspicious thoughts to sort through.

  George tiptoed into the lounge about twenty minutes later, trying to be quiet in case I was sleeping. If I were asleep, his clumsy footsteps and deep breathing still would’ve woken me. I rolled over and strained to see the large shadow moving around the dark room. Under the soft moonlight filtering in through the window, I could just make out the silhouette of wet locks poking up from his head. Glints of coarse gray shined against the fading black of George’s hair.

  “Good shower?” I asked, letting him know I was up.

  “Oh. Yeah. Much needed.” He took a deep struggled breath, then coughed.

  “Are you feeling okay?” My voice trembled, fearing that he might not be.

  “I’m fine, don’t you worry.” He forced out a weak chuckle. “Think I’m comin’ down with a cold or something, that’s all.” The couch creaked as he laid down.

  “George?”

  “What?” he replied with a tired voice.

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too, Nev. Get some sleep.”

  I listened to his slow steady snoring for a while and then let myself fall to sleep.

  I woke with the sun warming my face. George was still asleep on the couch with one arm draped over his face and a leg resting on the floor. Laughter and talking echoed down the hall as the other employees got ready for the day. I stretched out of my usual balled position and grabbed the clothes Layla left. Creeping out of the lounge, I headed toward the bathroom and leaned into the door with my hip to close it behind me.

  After changing, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and began coiling my messy hair into a loose bun. When I looked in the mirror to make sure my hair was pinned in place, I choked on the mouthwash swishing between my cheeks. The burn that had marred my face last night was gone. No redness, no scab. Nothing. The “I’m crazy” feeling returned very quickly.