Sharing Space (The Complete Series) (32 page)

BOOK: Sharing Space (The Complete Series)
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“Mr. Murphy, we’re still trying to piece together everything that happened. He’s the only person able to tell us anything right now and, even if he was in any condition to go anywhere—which he’s not—there’s an officer outside his door.”

 

Before I could respond, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Chloe sat next to me, pressing my cell phone into my hand. “Your parents should be here soon.”

 

Detective Clarkson rose and handed me a business card. “I’ll be in touch when we know more. I wish your sister the best.”

 

I was too numb to respond. I heard Chloe say “thank you” and I felt her take the card from my hand and put it in her purse. When we were alone she pressed her face against the side of mine and kissed me on the cheek.

 

“Patrick, what happened?” Chloe asked gently.

 

I told her what I knew and, even as the words left my mouth, none of it seemed real. Charlotte was fighting for her life after trying to buy drugs and the person responsible for this situation was awake and talking.

 

“I’m going to talk to him.” I jumped to my feet and started for the elevators. Chloe was right behind me, grabbing my hand before I could press the call button.

 

“Didn’t you say there’s an officer outside his room? They’re not going to let you see him, Patrick. Not like this. You need to be here for Charlotte when she wakes up. You need to be here for your parents.”

 

“Chloe… she’s… you heard her. Third degree burns. And he’s just—” I wasn’t making sense, I knew it, but I was angry. I couldn’t be with Charlotte, but putting my hands around Orbit’s throat felt like something I could handle.

 

“Baby, I know. I know. But this isn’t helping. Let’s go sit down, okay? If there’s news about Charlotte, someone from her family should be here to get it. Come on.”

 

I let her lead me by the hand back to the waiting area. We were sitting there, Chloe with her head rested on my shoulder, holding hands and not talking, when my parents arrived. My mother was crying and I was sure she had been since hearing the news. She sobbed as we hugged and I felt my father’s heavy hand on my back.

 

“Where is she?” my mother asked as we pulled apart.

 

“They won’t let me see her yet. Ma, it’s… not good.”

 

She choked back another sob and went into my father’s arms. He looked up at the ceiling, blinked rapidly, and said, “Tell us.”

 

For the second time I repeated what I’d learned from the detective. It didn’t get any easier or make any more sense. My father helped my mother into a chair. “I’m going to get some answers.” He walked over to Chloe and placed a hand on her arm. “Thanks for calling us, Chloe.”

 

“Of course.” She patted his hand and we watched as my father made for the nurse’s station with purpose. I sat at my mother’s side and placed an arm around her shoulder. “Mrs. Murphy, can I get you anything?” Chloe asked. For a moment I thought my mother hadn’t heard her or wasn’t going to answer. She looked up at Chloe as if realizing for the first time she was even there.

 

“No. No. Thank you for asking.”

 

My father was back within a few minutes, but didn’t have an update. The doctors were still working on Charlotte and her condition was listed as serious. All of my siblings arrived in the next hour. It must have been a slow night in the ICU because the Murphy clan was the only people in the waiting room. When my mother couldn’t wait any longer she asked my sisters to go with her to the hospital’s chapel to pray. I was grateful that my sister’s doctor finally made an appearance while my mother was gone because the news wasn’t promising.

 

“She’s made it this far, so that’s good. The next few hours are going to be critical. Charlotte suffered substantial burns over the top half of her body. There’s organ damage—of particular concern, her lungs. We have her on a respirator.”

 

Her doctor looked only slightly older than me, and I mentally scolded myself for noticing something so trivial as he told us how my sister was fighting for her life. He talked about infections and skin grafts and I heard the news as if it were being delivered from the other end of a cave. His words seemed to be coming from far away, and the weight of them echoed in my chest. We weren’t allowed to see Charlotte yet, as her burns were still being treated, and we were warned she had to be kept protected and stable to fight off infections. He apologized for not having better news, but promised to be back as soon as anything changed.

 

 

***

 

The sun had risen by the time Charlotte was allowed visitors. It could only be two people at a time and they wouldn’t be able to touch her, just see her through a plastic curtain. Without question, the first to see her were my parents. As they were being led away by a nurse, Chloe leaned over and whispered, “I’m going to run home, change my clothes, and come right back.”

 

“Baby, you’ve been here all night. Go get some rest. You don’t have to come back.”

 

She shook her head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Of course I’m coming back.”

 

“I’ll walk you out.”

 

Before getting into a taxi, Chloe kissed me on the lips and said, “It’s going to be okay.” As I watched the cab pull into traffic, I wasn’t sure I believed that at all.

 

Chapter Four

Not Quite Good Enough

Chloe

 

Myra was waiting for me on the front steps of my building when I exited the cab. She didn’t look happy. In fact, she looked worried as hell. We spoke at the same time.

 

“Where have you been?”

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Uh. Brunch then shopping, remember?”

 

“Oh, shit. I totally forgot.”

 

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

 

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my cell phone. The battery was dead. I held up the dark screen and showed it to Myra. “Sorry. Phone died.”

 

She eyed me from head to toe. “Have you been out all night? Dressed like that?”

 

“Let’s go inside and I’ll explain.” By the time we were in my apartment and had taken off our coats, I’d filled Myra in.

 

“Oh, my God. That’s terrible.”

 

I sighed. “I know. I need to change my clothes and get back to the hospital. I’m sorry about our plans.”

 

“Don’t even. But you’re not going back just yet. Go take a shower. When’s the last time you ate?”

 

I thought about it, but couldn’t even remember. “Does champagne count?”

 

“Girl, bye. I’ll handle breakfast, you go wash your ass.”

 

“Well, when you put it like that. Thank you.” 

 

Every part of me wanted to be back at the hospital with Patrick but, once the hot water hit my skin, I knew Myra had the right idea. I let the spray linger on my neck and shoulders, which were tight with tension. I guess sitting in a hospital waiting room all night will do that to you. I showered longer than planned but felt renewed when I was done. I brushed my hair into a high ponytail and slipped into a pair of jeans and a fluffy sweater. When I entered the kitchen Myra was just placing two plates with eggs, toast, and bacon on the table. I collapsed into a chair while she poured two cups of coffee. We ate without talking for a few minutes.

 

“Thank you, Myra. I didn’t even realize it, but I was starving.”

 

“I know you better stop thanking me,” she said, biting into a piece of toast. “So, his family must be a mess right now.”

 

“Oh, yeah. It’s incredibly sad. I don’t think his mother even fully came to terms with the fact that Charlotte had a problem, and now this.”

 

“How’s Patrick taking it?”

 

I shook my head and took a sip of coffee before answering. “As you’d expect, I guess, but he’s so quiet. The only time he seemed to really get upset is when he thought he’d get to put his foot up her boyfriend’s ass.”

 

“Well, can you blame him? The guy gets his sister hooked on meth and now she may—you know—and he’s probably going to walk out of there just fine.”

 

“Oh, I get it. I just don’t want him to focus on that and not what he’s really feeling. I did that for awhile when my dad died and when it catches up to you, it’s not good.”

 

“I know I gave him a lot of mess, but he’s lucky to have you.”

 

“I wish everyone felt that way,” I mumbled, pushing my plate away.

 

Myra raised an eyebrow and picked up her own cup of coffee. “What does that mean?”

 

“If I tell you, do you promise not to start?”

 

“No.”

 

“I can’t stand you. Fine.” I took a deep breath. “Patrick’s mother doesn’t like me.” I didn’t want to hear the I Told You So speech, but I had to talk about it with someone.

 

“And why the hell not?” Myra asked, loudly setting her cup back on the table.

 

“Because I’m black.” I said.

 

“Hmph.”

 

“You—“

 

“I didn’t promise shit! What did I tell you?”

 

“I know. I know. I tried looking at it the way my mother told me. It doesn’t matter what his family thinks because it won’t change the way we feel about each other, but it’s really hard when I’m trying to be there for him and I feel like she doesn’t even want me there. And before you even say it, I feel awful for even worrying about that during a time like this.”

 

“You shouldn’t. You care about him and you’re doing what any good girlfriend would. It has to hurt if she’s throwing you shade the whole time.”

 

“It’s not like that. She’s not going out of her way to be rude or anything.” I told Myra about what I’d overheard at Thanksgiving. “She’s not against me personally, she’s just worried that an interracial relationship is too hard. It just felt like the whole time I was there, she was looking through me.”

 

“I love your mama, but she’s wrong. What that woman thinks matters. You live with her son. You’re sleeping with him. It’s a serious relationship, right?” I nodded and Myra continued. “Well, it matters. Trust me. I know.”

 

I snorted. “Yeah, because you have so much experience with white men and their mamas.” I peered at Myra over the top of my coffee cup, expecting to see her either laughing or rolling her eyes. Instead, she was staring at her plate.

 

“Myra?”

 

Without looking up she asked, “Do you remember Chris Hedges?”

 

“Who the hell is Chris Hedges?” She looked at me sharply. “Sorry. No. Who is he?”

 

“Junior year. He was my chem partner.”

 

I thought back to that year in college and had a vague memory of a dark-haired white guy with glasses. “Oh, right! He rode his skateboard all over campus. What about him?”

 

Myra looked down at her plate again. “Well…”

 

“No!”

 

“It just kinda happened. And then it kept happening. Next thing you know, we were a couple.”

 

“But you never told me. You guys never went out together. You were always in the lab… oh.”

“Right. We weren’t spending
all
of our time in the lab. And I didn’t tell you for the same reason you didn’t tell me about Patrick right away. I wanted to make sure it meant something. Plus, I was young and scared. I’d never even thought about being with a white guy before and there were no interracial couples on campus. None. I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t know how anyone would react.”

 

“What happened?” I had a feeling I was about to learn why Myra had such a hate on for white people, so that meant this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

 

“No one knew about us and for a few months; it was great. He was so affectionate and smart. It was like having the best secret in the world, you know?”

 

I nodded. I knew exactly what Myra meant. She continued. “One day I got out of a class early and I went to Chris’s dorm room. Remember Palmer Hall?”

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