Not Yet (5 page)

“Tinley, you can’t be in here. This space is for the
guards only.” She ignored me and continued to whisper to Landon.
“Landon! I’m serious. That’s enough!” My voice sounded shrill even
to my own ears, and Landon looked at me with eyebrows raised. He
murmured something to Tinley and she stomped out.

I looked back at my Kindle and felt my flush
deepening. I was losing complete control and I never did that. I
also looked like I cared. This was so not good.

Landon came behind me and his warm breath hit my ear.
“Ah, Em… Are you jealous?”

No. Yes.
Crap
.

I snorted and ignored him. He brought his lips so
close to my ear I could almost feel them brush against it. I wanted
to beg. I wanted to plead with him to touch me. To kiss my ear.
Something, anything, to take this edge off. I needed it and I
didn’t do needy. My stomach knotted and I held my breath.

“I’m only interested in you.” He inhaled deeply,
obviously smelling me, and I was so aroused I thought I would
faint. He walked out of the room without looking back. I turned and
stared at his bare, muscular back and closed my eyes.
Hot
damn
, he was good.

Or not. The next morning I waited fifteen minutes for
him before I started my workout. He was a no show. I worked out
aggressively, beating my body up for starting to like someone when
I knew better.

He was also late for work. It was only then that I
started to worry. What if he was in an accident? I was looking up
his number to call his house when he stumbled in. His baseball cap
was on backwards again, albeit cocked slightly sideways this time,
and he wore dark aviator shades. Dark stubble marked his face and
he reeked of cheap, stale beer. Disgusting.

“Landon, what the hell happened to you?” Anger surged
through me. He skipped out on our planned workout and was late for
work—because he was hung-over? I was mostly pissed at myself,
though. I had let him get to me. Stupid Emma.

Landon took off his shades to reveal blood shot eyes.
“Sorry, Em. Partied with the boys out by the lake too late last
night. Feelin’ a bit rough at the moment. I’ll sweat it out. Don’t
worry. I just need a quick swim in the pool and a couple
Advil.”

“Take a shower first. You smell horrible.” I slammed
my papers on the desk and walked to the door.

Landon stood in front of me, towering really, with
almost a foot on me. “What is your problem, Emma?” He looked pissed
for the first time. Why would he be pissed at me? I was the one he
let down.

“You’re my problem, because now I have to cover for
your ass. If it happens again, I will write you up. Now clean up
and get to work. If I had more guards, I’d send your sorry ass
home.” I tried to move around him, but the wall that was Landon
wouldn’t budge.

“You only live once, you know? Haven’t you ever let
yourself be a little bad? Maybe—make a mistake?” He reached out to
touch my face, and I smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch me, Landon. I’m sick and tired of men
who say one thing and do another. I don’t have time for you and
your self-centered bullshit. Now move.” He stepped out of the way,
and I grabbed my goggles and towel.

I needed to swim a few laps and settle down. My face
burned hot with anger. I quickly secured my goggles and dove into
the pool. I stayed under the surface as long as I could. I wanted
to hide in the refreshingly cold, silent depths of the water.

My lungs began to burn with the lack of oxygen, and I
broke the surface, gasping, as I drank in the warm summer air.
Kicking as hard as I could, my arms cut through the water
aggressively.

Stroke, stroke, and breathe. Stroke, stroke, and
breathe.

He was right. I was young and I wasn’t really living
my life. But he let me down just like every other guy I ever knew.
I was sure I would regret not letting anyone in someday, but I just
wasn’t sure who I could trust or how to turn things around
anymore.

Pull it together, short stuff.

***

I WALKED INTO the small but bright kitchen of my
family’s apartment and greeted my sister with a kiss. We didn’t
have much money, but our place felt like home. My mom had painted
the kitchen lemon-meringue yellow, placed mason jars with fresh
flowers on the windowsill, and kept a white lace tablecloth on our
small, round table. We were proud of our home, and we cared enough
to make it feel special. It was a space that brought me immediate
comfort.

I could only imagine how hard it was for my mom when
my dad—I use that term loosely—left almost twenty-two years ago. It
was disturbingly common for men to leave marriages when a child was
born with disabilities. My father lasted almost two years before he
took off with his secretary for a life that wasn’t burdened with
children, let alone a child with special needs. Dad abandoned my
mom and Evie a few days after she told him she was pregnant with
me. I guess he was terrified that their second child would also be
born with disabilities, and he couldn’t take the chance. My mom was
left cleaning houses and doing what she could to raise me and Evie,
my sweet sister who happened to be born with Down syndrome. I was
left without ever having the chance to meet my father.

After I graduated last month and moved back home, mom
had found a job cleaning commercial office space at night, so she
would be home with Evie during the day. Evie was placed on a
waiting list for a residential group home when she turned
twenty-one. She would hopefully soon be living in a townhome or
apartment with a roommate and a person hired to live with them and
provide supports, like cooking, giving out medication, and
transportation. She had been patiently waiting for three long years
now.

She was also working with an employment agency to
find a job that she could do with some help. Evie could handle
simple tasks, like stocking shelves, doing janitorial work, or
clearing tables in a restaurant. If it was anything more complex,
she was going to need someone to assist her, and she would need
transportation to whatever job she could find.

Evie really wanted to work and have her independence.
She had gone to a school for children with various special needs,
but once she turned twenty-one she was considered an adult and no
longer allowed in the school system. She had spent the last three
years sitting at home all day long. Mom had looked for day programs
for her that she had read about on-line, but in our community they
weren’t well-funded. So, the placements all had long waiting lists
too. Evie was bored and frustrated. She wanted to contribute to
society, and she wanted to work like everyone else did.

I, however, was terrified. Even though I was her
younger sister, I had helped raise her, and while I knew I had to
let go at some point… I would miss her. My entire life, I had made
decisions thinking about the effect they would have on Evie. I
chose friends that were kind to Evie. I included Evie in everything
I did, knowing she would have been lonely or otherwise excluded. To
now face her moving out…. I wasn’t sure what that meant for our
relationship. Would she ever need me the same way again?

In the meantime, I helped Mom by watching over Evie
every night and I truly loved my time with her. I never resented
her—not like I resented the life we were handed. The near constant
attention she needed never bothered me; I only wanted her to be
safe and happy. She was always so much more than just my
sister.

Evie wore her short brown hair in a simple,
manageable style. Her large, almond shaped, green eyes and big
smile warmed my heart. She was very short and quite rotund; her
passion for dessert was one that my mom and I loved to indulge.

“How are you today, sis?” I asked her, as I examined
the fridge for dinner contents.

“I talk’d to my boyfend, Garrett, today!” Evie’s
crush on Garrett Morgan began when they went to school together. He
was born with developmental and intellectual disabilities—or mental
retardation as our grandparents called it—and was working at our
local supermarket. Evie loved to shop for groceries, so she always
planned to go when Garrett was working.

“How is that handsome man?” I asked as I tickled her
and began making spaghetti with meat sauce and garlic bread, her
favorite.

“Bad. He asx’d me to the YMCA dance nex’d Friday.
Mom’s working. Can’t go.” Evie was distraught at her situation, and
her distress always made it more difficult for her to speak. Evie’s
words tended to slur or run together as she spoke, but I had grown
up with her and could easily understand what she was saying—even
when she was pissed off.

“I’ll drive you! Does Garrett need a lift too?”
Garrett lived in a nearby group home and he sometimes had trouble
finding reliable transportation that wasn’t work related. Evie
would never have thought to ask me to drive them, but I was happy
to do anything that made her smile.

“Thank you, Emma! Now it’ll be a real date!” Evie
hugged me and headed to her room to call her guy.

The doorbell rang and I grumbled. I wasn’t expecting
anyone and didn’t want to deal with nosy neighbors or
solicitors.

Landon stood at my door with a large bunch of
sunflowers. He wasn’t wearing his signature baseball cap, but he
had styled his unruly brown hair with some gel. He wore a blue polo
shirt, collar popped up, with brown cargo shorts and flip flops. A
flipping J Crew model could have been standing in front of me.

“How in the hell do you know where I live?” My mouth
hung open and he burst out laughing.

“Not the response I was looking for, Em. I looked up
your address in the office files. I came to apologize for missing
our workout and being late to work. I’m sorry. I was a douche.” He
walked into the apartment before I could stop him.

“Thanks for the apology, but now you need to go. I’m
making dinner for my sister.” I held the door open, repeatedly
waving my arm in front of it, as if to shoo him away, hoping he
would get my not-so-subtle message.

Instead, he grinned widely and walked into the
kitchen, peeking under the pot. “Spaghetti with meat sauce is my
favorite!”

“Mine too!” Evie’s voice was high pitched with
excitement when she saw the boy standing in our kitchen.

“May I join you?” Landon asked Evie as she replied
“Sure!” and I yelled “No!” simultaneously.

Landon chuckled and set the flowers on the table. He
spun one of our kitchen chairs around, sitting on it backwards,
looking right at home in our space, as he smiled warmly at Evie.
She returned his grin and sat next to him, smelling the flowers
deeply.

“These for Emma?” Evie leaned over to ask Landon.

He leaned closer to her and nodded. “I hurt her
feelings and I needed to apologize,” he explained.

Evie nodded. “Good move. I like choclate.” Evie
usually spoke in short sentences. Part of her syndrome made it hard
for her to communicate longer, more complex thoughts. She was
trying to tell him she liked boys to give her chocolate when they
hurt her feelings. I hoped Landon was able to follow along, and I
prayed I wouldn’t have to kick his ass if he said anything stupid
to my sister.

“You’re cute.” Evie blurted out while staring at
Landon. I wondered if he was uncomfortable with her attention. He
was used to a ton of awareness from any and all females, but… Evie
was different and I wasn’t sure how he would handle her.

Landon thanked her for her compliment and then
continued their conversation, as I stirred the sauce on the stove
and finished making dinner. Landon was asking Evie about her life
and seemed truly interested in her stories. He was a pushy jerk,
but he was being kind to my Evie. That would earn him points with
me any day.

“Landon, may I speak to you in the other room?” I
wiped my hands with the towel and tried my hardest to look
irritated with his visit. Really, I was touched that he came by and
wanted to apologize. I started to feel that I’d misjudged him.
Maybe there was more than just a pretty boy in Landon.