16. Carter
16
CARTER
N udging the bedroom door with my toe, I carried the tray of breakfast into my room. Sunny lay on her side with her phone in hand scowling at the screen, and I could already imagine who it was and what they wanted. She’d been sleeping when I slid out of bed to make her this plate full of eggs, sausage, and buttered toast. Now, she looked up at me and sighed.
“Everything okay?” I asked her, padding softly to the bedside to set the tray on the nightstand. I reached behind the stand to pull out the lap desk I kept back there.
“Dad…Ugh!” she groaned and turned to her back, holding the sheet to her chest. “He demands to know where I am and why I never came home. I sent Mom a text yesterday before wine and canvas night that I may stay out all night. She knows I’m dating someone and?—”
“You told your mom?” I grinned at her feeling a bit giddy that she’d told Melanie about us, even if only in theory and not my name.
Sunny smiled as she pushed herself up on the bed, and I set the lap desk over her thighs. “Yeah, so what if I did?” Her hand rose to her lips and she looked a little green, her smile fading as quickly as it appeared.
“You okay?” The last few days she’d seemed off. In fact, she told me last night how sleepy she’d been for a week now, and all the signs pointed toward the flu bug that’d been going around for a while.
“Just feeling…off,” she mumbled, but she swallowed hard and I knew what was coming.
Sunny pushed the lap desk away and threw back the covers, almost knocking the tray of food off the nightstand. I watched her rush to the bathroom as I readjusted the tray, and I heard her throwing up, which further proved my point. She was sick, and I needed to take care of her.
When I walked into the bathroom, she was kneeling on the floor next to my toilet, hair held to the side with one hand. I crouched next to her and took it, holding it for her so she had two hands free. It was a very humbling position for her—naked and vomiting—but I tried to make it less awkward for her by resting my hand on her back and talking gently to her.
“Shh, hey, it’s okay.” I’d seen several cases of the flu already this month, so it wasn’t a surprise that she was sick. When you worked in a clinic around sick people all day, you tended to either build a healthy immune system or you got sick frequently. Sunny appeared to be the latter.
“Wow, I don’t feel well.” Sunny pressed a hand to her chest and looked up at me in her periphery. I snagged some toilet paper and handed it to her, and she mopped herself up. When she flushed the toilet, which was mostly water and stomach acid seeing as she didn’t eat dinner last night and no breakfast yet this morning, I helped her stand.
“Well, let’s get you back to bed then,” I said, letting go of her hair. She stooped to slurp some water from the sink and rinse her mouth, then she let me guide her back to the bedroom where she covered her mouth and nose at the sight of the breakfast I cooked.
“Wow, I don’t think I can eat. I’m so sorry.”
“No worries, babe. Just rest a bit.” I folded back the covers and let her climb in, checked her forehead to see if she felt feverish—she didn’t—then I carried the food out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, I scarfed as much down as I could in a few seconds, then I grabbed some water and mints and returned to the bedroom to find her lying on her side.
Her hair was splayed out on the pillow behind her, and she looked at peace with her eyes shut. They popped open as I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in mine.
“Stay with me for the day. Let me take care of you.” I pushed some strands of her hair off her face and tucked them around her ear. She blinked slowly, fatigue weighing on her. Even if the only thing she did all day was sleep, I’d feel better knowing she was being cared for properly. At home, she would lock herself away and suffer in isolation.
“Alright, but I’m not staying in bed all day. I want fresh air. I think it will help me.” Sunny sighed softly. I could tell she was exhausted, but the fight in her wouldn’t quit. She was right, however, some fresh air would do her good.
“I know just the place,” I told her and smiled.
Two hours later, after a shower, a piece of dry toast, and a long drive, we pulled up to one of my favorite spots in all of California. The orchard in Moorpark had been around for ages, and I used to visit every fall until Hope died. Sunny’s eyes lit up at the sight, and I knew I’d made the right choice.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute,” she squealed, but she couldn’t hide the tiredness in her eyes. I knew she was feeling miserable, and I hoped the sunshine and fresh air would help her feel better.
“Yes, and we’re going to pick fruit and have a walk, but if you get tired or you’re not feeling it, you let me know.” I unbuckled my seat belt and angled my body to face her.
“I promise,” she said, and the smile on her face lit up the car as she opened the door.
I took her hand, and we walked into the barn where rows of shelves stacked full of produce and jars of products made from it lined the walls and center. It felt more like a grocery store than a barn despite the dirt floor, which gave it a unique home-grown aesthetic. Sunny’s eyes scanned everything, and her fingers weaved through mine.
“Oh gosh, I just love it.” She stopped by some bright green apples and picked one up, but I clicked my tongue.
“This isn’t where we pick them, silly.” I nodded at the door out the back of the barn and smiled. “Out there…” I didn’t think her smile could get any brighter. I put my hand in the small of her back as she set the apple back down, then we stopped by the counter and took a pale green basket for our fruit.
She rested her head on my shoulder as I led her through the rest of the barn, where handmade crafts and leather works were displayed, and into the sun on the back side.
“How did you know about this place?” Her hand rested on my stomach, arm wrapped around my back.
“Oh, I learned about it years ago and used to come here a lot.” I thought of Hope, how I wished she was here to enjoy the sunshine and picking fruit. She’d have been old enough to eat some of it now all on her own, but life never gave us that chance. I was happy, though, to share this with Sunny.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, and then she pulled away with a playfulness to her gait. She snatched my hand and started pulling me, and we ran like kids toward the apple grove where fruit trees sprawled their branches out, laden with heavy fruits ripe for picking.
Before our basket was even full, Sunny’s phone started to ring. She didn’t pull it out. Instead, she kept reaching for more fruit, and I paused to ask, “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“It’s just Dad. He’s just going to lecture me again.” Her words helped me see the frustration she’d been going through, something I wish I could remove from her shoulders. He was her father and he cared, and while I didn’t necessarily agree with his tactics, I did think she misunderstood him.
“Sunny, you should answer.” I held the basket back and offered a gentle look of disapproval and she sighed, dropping another apple in the basket.
“Fine,” she huffed as she pulled it out, but her eyebrows went up. “It’s not Dad.” Her face blanched as she swiped across the screen, and I didn’t get a look at it before she held the phone to her ear and said, “Hello, Mrs. Baker.”
I didn’t immediately recognize the name, but I could see it was something that was affecting her. We walked away from the grove, toward a bench near the fence line leading back to the barn. Sunny sat as she listened, every once in a while glancing up at my face. The longer she listened with the phone pressed to her ear, the longer her face looked, until the same fatigue from this morning had returned to etch itself across her forehead.
“Yes, thank you for calling me. It’s good to know.” I sat beside her and put the basket on the ground at our feet as she ended her call with a goodbye, and my hand instinctively went to her back as she sat slouched over, staring at the phone.
“Is everything okay?” I was concerned, but not overly so. Sunny was a strong woman, and though she’d been through a lot, she was handling it better than most people.
“It was Kira’s mom,” she said, looking up to meet my gaze. “They know what happened.”
After learning from Rick that Kira had been involved in one of our drug trials when she died, I braced myself for this news. I thought it would come from Joseph or Rick even, not Sunny. But fate ordained that we’d be together today during this call, and it meant I had to be strong for her and leave my worries out of it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” My hand smoothed circles against her back as she toyed with her phone, unlocking it and locking it again over and over. Her head hung again, and I watched tears drip to her knees and dampen the fabric of her shorts.
“They said there was a complication, something about the drug she was trialing and a comorbidity.” Sunny sniffled and then looked up at me. “They didn’t test her for diabetes, and the drug was hard on the kidneys. I never knew she was diabetic. I don’t think she knew she was diabetic either…” Sunny’s lip quivered, and I pulled her against my chest as she started to cry.
Of all the things to happen, this was a major failure on the part of the company. The team should’ve done the proper testing and not just taken a person’s word for things. This should have never happened.
“That’s really tough,” I said, not knowing what to say. Guilt flooded my chest, consuming my thoughts. I should have been there for her, but I was fighting myself now.
“She had a heart attack because her kidneys shut down. I should’ve seen it, Carter. I should’ve helped her.” Sunny was a blubbering mess. I gripped her by both shoulders and pulled her back to look her in the eye.
“This is not your fault, okay? You didn’t do this, and there was no way you could have known.” My words came out a little forceful, but I couldn’t let her blame herself, not for this. It was the same way I felt when Hope passed, like I could’ve stopped it, or seen the signs. But there was no way for anyone to predict what would happen in either circumstance, and it took me months of counseling to fix that one tiny thought.
“Look, let me take you back to my place.” I stood and took her hand. Suddenly the basket of fruit didn’t seem so important anymore.
“No, I want to go home. I want my mom.” She stood with me, picking up the basket, and we headed for the barn.
I was a little disappointed that she would rather go to Melanie for comfort than me, but I understood. A woman always needs her mother even late into life. So we paid for the fruit and walked to the car. I drove quietly, holding her hand as she cried and used all the napkins from my glove box, and when we got to Rick and Melanie’s house, I insisted on walking her to the door. In her emotional state, she didn’t stop to protest.
As we approached the front door, Rick swung it open. His eyes were drawn in sadness, lips pursed, and he stared at me in confusion. “Carter, what are you doing here?”
“I’ll call you, okay?” Sunny said, glancing at me, then Rick. She passed by him and vanished into the house while I stood on the stoop watching her, my heart aching.
“What’s wrong with her?” Rick demanded, and I sighed.
“She’s just heard about her friend’s death, the cause of it…” The only thing on my mind was how desperately Sunny must’ve been hurting and how guilty I was that my company had made such a horrific mistake. I could never go back and fix it; death was as permanent as things come.
Rick loomed in the doorway, staring at me, until his face of concern contorted into a scowl. “Was Sunny at work? What were you doing with her?”
I had no excuse. The clinic was closed today. No one was working. And after that conversation with her last night, about the two of us dating and telling Rick, I couldn’t continue the charade. I looked him in the eye with all the courage I could muster and did what I thought was unthinkable.
“Rick, Sunny and I are seeing each other. We were out together when she got the call, and I brought her home to?—”
“You what!” he spat. His face flushed red instantly, and his grip on the doorknob tightened until his knuckles were white. “What on earth?”
“Rick, I’m sure this is a shock, and I’ll give you all the time you need to absorb it, but I love your daughter, and we are trying to make this work.” I stood firmly, jaw set, eyes locked on him, watching him grow angrier by the second.
“Get out of here.” Rick’s chest puffed out and he backed into the house, just inside the darkness where his features took on a menacing look. “And stay away from my daughter. My God, Carter, she’s a child.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued in a booming voice that startled me.
“She’s vulnerable and broken, and when she finds out it was your company behind all of this, do you understand how hurt she’ll be?” He shook his head, and without another word he slammed the door in my face.
I stood there for a second feeling hurt and broken, but guilt soon flooded my chest, then my mind, then my gut. Rick was right. I had no clue what I was doing. The minute I found out my company was involved in that trial, I should have told her. I should have told her who I really was from the beginning and not waited, and now it would seem like I was hiding things from her, manipulating her. I was such an idiot.
And when Sunny found out, she’d be devastated. She’d never speak to me again.