goods and services.
“Did you bring Nathan to see Monty?” Jami asked while her nose remained buried in her book.
“No. Why would I bring Nathan?”
My sister loved that baby as if he were her own. Jami wasn’t the most social person, and I worried how she would react to Nathan. Some people just aren’t baby people. I wondered if my sister would be like that.
But she was the opposite. Everywhere we went, she’d tell people about Nathan. When I came home every day, she’d update me on everything he did. Everything.
If he burped, I knew about it. If he farted, she told me about it. If he cooed, she recorded it.
“Monty must know about Nathan.” She shut the book and stared at me.
Oh, this was serious.
“Jami, I know you love Nathan. You’re the best aunt to him, but Nathan can’t come everywhere with me. When I’m at work, well, was at work, I had to focus on the tasks there. I wouldn’t be able to get my work done and care for Nathan.”
She nodded.
Good, she understood.
I put down the muffin, having lost my appetite. I wasn’t hungry anyway. The food was more for dealing with stress than actual hunger.
“It’s time for Nathan’s afternoon walk.” My sister stood, as did I.
She paused when she saw me follow her. “You’re coming?”
“Since I’m here, I thought I would join you two.” I smiled.
She didn’t.
“I need to get Nathan.” She held up her hands to stop me.
I suspected I wasn’t welcome on this walk. A warm grin crept across my face as I watched Jami move toward the stairs.
Despite the mess I made with my job, I was grateful to be surrounded by a family who loved my boy.
My parents left right after Nathan’s birthday party, off on another cross-country trip. My parents deserved the adventure. They were young when they had Laura and me. By the time Jami showed up as a big surprise seven years after Laura was born, they were tired but happy. But they struggled with Jami. They took her to doctor after doctor to discover why their daughter took five years to speak, and then once she could speak, why she wasn’t hitting her milestones.
It wasn't until she was ten that a doctor in D.C. diagnosed her with autism.
Many people in this town shunned my family because of Jami. It was the twenty-first century, and they were acting like it was the nineteenth century. One woman told my mom, while I was standing next to her at the grocery store when I was a teenager, that Jami was punishment for all the sins of our family.
I was about to reach over and slap that woman across the face because she deserved all the sins my hand could dole out. But my mom held me back and told her, “If Jami was brought from sin, then everyone needs to sin because she’s one of the sweetest, kindest, and smartest people to have entered my life.”
Jami was my sister, and I loved her with all my heart, and if that woman had said that to me, I wouldn’t be as kind as my mother.
I heard the front door creak and tried to catch her before she left, but that girl was quick. When I opened the front door, she was gone. I made my way out to the driveway to see if I could figure out which way she went, but once I got there, a big, black Volvo pulled in.
Blocking the sun with my hand, I tried the see in the car, but the windows were tinted. Someone’s probably lost. We lived down a dirt road, and the local kids enjoyed throwing rocks at the street sign. They must have knocked it askew again.
“Are you lost—” I called out as the door opened and a tall figure stepped out, but the words caught in my throat when I saw who it was.
Monty.
“No. I’m exactly where I need to be.”
He looked amazing. He wore a navy button-up that molded to his body with the sleeves rolled up and gray slacks that fit perfectly.
His hair was disheveled but purposefully. And he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
“I, uh . . . quit. Remember?”
There was a determination about him as he sauntered toward me. As if he came for me and was about to snatch me up and take me to his sex dungeon.
Wow. My mind just went there, didn’t it? In my defense, he was lady-boner material. The way he walked, talked, and dressed was