Made for You
Page 35
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He sits straighter as he replies, “Jobs aren’t as easy to come by with my schedule limitations.”
“Limitations?”
“I watch my brother when his mother needs help, but her schedule changes—sometimes at the last minute. He has CF, cystic fibrosis, which sometimes means complications.” He sips his water and then carefully sets the glass on a coaster. “Sometimes he’s fine though, so I have some applications in already. Nora found a summer camp last year that Aaron liked, and if he doesn’t get sick, he’ll go there during the day.”
My mother sits in the other chair, so we are seated in a loose triangle. She’s to my right, and he’s to my left. The whole thing feels unsettling to me. She’s brought herself a glass of sweet tea that I know from experience has enough sugar in it to make my teeth ache. Considering my sweet tooth, that’s an accomplishment.
“That’s good of you to help with him,” my mother murmurs.
“Someone has to, and our father can’t be bothered.” Nate shrugs like it’s not a big deal, although his tone makes it abundantly clear that it is. “My brother deserves a family, and Nora works a lot of hours so she can provide for them.”
“Nate’s very devoted to his brother,” I interject.
My mother looks from me to Nate and smiles. “I’m not sure how I didn’t put the pieces together when the nurses talked about ‘Nate,’” she muses. “So you’re the same young man who was there with my Eva at the hospital. After all these years, you turned up when she needed you.”
“It just happened.” He shrugs. “I visit Aaron, and when I saw Eva, I figured she could use a friend.”
My mother sips her drink. “The nurses spoke highly of you.”
This time, I can tell that it’s not the uncomfortable chair that’s making him squirm; it’s my mother’s very polite words. He was born and bred in Jessup, which means that he can see the cunning in my mother. He’s obviously not sure where she’s going with this yet, and neither am I at first.
Then she says, “So if you had a position with flexible hours . . .”
It clicks, and as much as I like the idea of having a way to keep Nate close, I quickly interject, “Nate’s probably looking for something more out and about, Mom.”
She waves her hand at me as if to shoo away my objection. “Eva was heartbroken when you stopped visiting her when you were children.”
“I was an idiot,” he says. “I’m going to be here for her now though.” He shoots me a look I can’t read. “She was my best friend, but things got messed up in my life when my parents split.”
“Despite your father’s example, you seem like you’re turning out well. You’re certainly shouldering lot of responsibility,” my mother says. “The nurses told me that you were instrumental in Eva’s mood improving.”
Right about now, I wish the sofa would rip open and swallow me. My mother has moved from polite Southern woman to bluntness tempered by a sweet voice. I close my eyes for a moment as I try to push away the mortification that I’m feeling.
Neither Nate nor I say anything, so my mother continues, “Tell me more about your brother.”
Nate doesn’t seem the least bit put off by my mother’s order. “Aaron’s a great kid. He has cystic fibrosis, though, so he has to constantly be on guard for infections, and he has treatments and medicines. He doesn’t have diabetes so far, and he’s doing well. There’s no cure, but there are treatments. A lot of people with CF live into their thirties or older.” He pauses and scowls. “Our sperm donor, however, can’t be bothered to raise a kid with a health issue. He says it’s too ‘hard’ to see Aaron, as if what’s hard for Aaron doesn’t matter. I’m not going to turn my back on my brother. When he wants me around, I’m there as much as I can. It’s harder because they live over in Durham, but the drive isn’t horrible and Aaron’s worth it. I’m nothing like my father.”
“I can see that,” she says mildly.
Nate sounds so passionate that it would be impossible not to see how much he loves his brother. It’s no wonder that Nate has no friends at school. So much of his time is given to his brother.
“Nate is reliable, but he’s also busy,” I point out.
My mother doesn’t even acknowledge that I spoke. She continues, “I need to hire someone to help Eva when I’m at the office. You were a help to her in the hospital, have experience with injured or ill children, and of course, you look strong enough to help her. Plus, she obviously trusts you or you wouldn’t have been sleeping in her room”—she glances at me now—“which your father won’t hear about . . . as long as you don’t keep trying to object to Nathaniel’s accepting the job.”
“Mom, you can’t blackmail me by threatening to tell Dad.” I cross my arms and glare at her. “I don’t need a caretaker, and even if I did, you can’t bully someone into taking the job.”
“It’s fine, Eva,” Nate interjects when I take a breath. He turns to look at my mother. “I can’t do it if Aaron gets sick. If he needs me, either he comes here with me or I’m off that day, depending on how he feels. Sometimes, he’s just too tired to go do anything. If that’s the case, he could come with me. If not, I need to stay at his house.”
“Limitations?”
“I watch my brother when his mother needs help, but her schedule changes—sometimes at the last minute. He has CF, cystic fibrosis, which sometimes means complications.” He sips his water and then carefully sets the glass on a coaster. “Sometimes he’s fine though, so I have some applications in already. Nora found a summer camp last year that Aaron liked, and if he doesn’t get sick, he’ll go there during the day.”
My mother sits in the other chair, so we are seated in a loose triangle. She’s to my right, and he’s to my left. The whole thing feels unsettling to me. She’s brought herself a glass of sweet tea that I know from experience has enough sugar in it to make my teeth ache. Considering my sweet tooth, that’s an accomplishment.
“That’s good of you to help with him,” my mother murmurs.
“Someone has to, and our father can’t be bothered.” Nate shrugs like it’s not a big deal, although his tone makes it abundantly clear that it is. “My brother deserves a family, and Nora works a lot of hours so she can provide for them.”
“Nate’s very devoted to his brother,” I interject.
My mother looks from me to Nate and smiles. “I’m not sure how I didn’t put the pieces together when the nurses talked about ‘Nate,’” she muses. “So you’re the same young man who was there with my Eva at the hospital. After all these years, you turned up when she needed you.”
“It just happened.” He shrugs. “I visit Aaron, and when I saw Eva, I figured she could use a friend.”
My mother sips her drink. “The nurses spoke highly of you.”
This time, I can tell that it’s not the uncomfortable chair that’s making him squirm; it’s my mother’s very polite words. He was born and bred in Jessup, which means that he can see the cunning in my mother. He’s obviously not sure where she’s going with this yet, and neither am I at first.
Then she says, “So if you had a position with flexible hours . . .”
It clicks, and as much as I like the idea of having a way to keep Nate close, I quickly interject, “Nate’s probably looking for something more out and about, Mom.”
She waves her hand at me as if to shoo away my objection. “Eva was heartbroken when you stopped visiting her when you were children.”
“I was an idiot,” he says. “I’m going to be here for her now though.” He shoots me a look I can’t read. “She was my best friend, but things got messed up in my life when my parents split.”
“Despite your father’s example, you seem like you’re turning out well. You’re certainly shouldering lot of responsibility,” my mother says. “The nurses told me that you were instrumental in Eva’s mood improving.”
Right about now, I wish the sofa would rip open and swallow me. My mother has moved from polite Southern woman to bluntness tempered by a sweet voice. I close my eyes for a moment as I try to push away the mortification that I’m feeling.
Neither Nate nor I say anything, so my mother continues, “Tell me more about your brother.”
Nate doesn’t seem the least bit put off by my mother’s order. “Aaron’s a great kid. He has cystic fibrosis, though, so he has to constantly be on guard for infections, and he has treatments and medicines. He doesn’t have diabetes so far, and he’s doing well. There’s no cure, but there are treatments. A lot of people with CF live into their thirties or older.” He pauses and scowls. “Our sperm donor, however, can’t be bothered to raise a kid with a health issue. He says it’s too ‘hard’ to see Aaron, as if what’s hard for Aaron doesn’t matter. I’m not going to turn my back on my brother. When he wants me around, I’m there as much as I can. It’s harder because they live over in Durham, but the drive isn’t horrible and Aaron’s worth it. I’m nothing like my father.”
“I can see that,” she says mildly.
Nate sounds so passionate that it would be impossible not to see how much he loves his brother. It’s no wonder that Nate has no friends at school. So much of his time is given to his brother.
“Nate is reliable, but he’s also busy,” I point out.
My mother doesn’t even acknowledge that I spoke. She continues, “I need to hire someone to help Eva when I’m at the office. You were a help to her in the hospital, have experience with injured or ill children, and of course, you look strong enough to help her. Plus, she obviously trusts you or you wouldn’t have been sleeping in her room”—she glances at me now—“which your father won’t hear about . . . as long as you don’t keep trying to object to Nathaniel’s accepting the job.”
“Mom, you can’t blackmail me by threatening to tell Dad.” I cross my arms and glare at her. “I don’t need a caretaker, and even if I did, you can’t bully someone into taking the job.”
“It’s fine, Eva,” Nate interjects when I take a breath. He turns to look at my mother. “I can’t do it if Aaron gets sick. If he needs me, either he comes here with me or I’m off that day, depending on how he feels. Sometimes, he’s just too tired to go do anything. If that’s the case, he could come with me. If not, I need to stay at his house.”
