From what I know, Laurel’s an only child. I imagine, like most loving parents, all they want is for her to be with someone who loves her and wants to take care of her as much as they do.
And Eben is that someone.
There truly is someone out there for everyone. I believe that with all of my heart.
I just can’t help but wonder who my someone is.
Twelve
Madden
* * *
“You’re late.” Devanie climbs into my car and slams the door.
“I texted you. Didn’t you get it?” I ask.
“Yeah. But still.”
I’m twenty minutes late, which I’m sure to Dev felt like an eternity since she didn’t want to be there in the first place, but I can’t help it if my last appointment ran long. I wasn’t going to leave the tattoo unfinished when we were so close to being done.
“So how’d it go?” I ask. “With the mentor thing?”
“She’s okay,” Dev says, buckling up.
“Just okay?”
She pulls out her phone, firing off a text to someone, and I notice the garish pink paint on her nails.
“She take you to get your nails done?” I ask.
“Uh huh.” Her fingertips tap against the glass in warp speed. You’d never know she’s only a couple of weeks into having a cell phone.
“Tell me about her,” I say as we pull away.
“She’s nice,” she says, not looking up once. “Pretty.”
As soon as we get to a stoplight, I reach over and yank the damn thing from her hands mid-text.
“Hey!” She tries to grab it back, but I’m too fast.
The light turns green.
“If you’re going to be one of those assholes, then I’m going to start setting limits,” I say. “A hundred text messages a month.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Trust me, Dev. I know exactly what I can and can’t do. The guy at the cell store gave me a whole list of shit I can use to keep tabs on you.”
I pass a car ahead, and she seizes the opportunity to steal her phone back. “Ha.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “Don’t be that asshole who can’t look away from their phone when someone’s talking to them. That shit’s not cool.”
Placing her phone screen side down in her lap, she turns and gives me her full attention. “Better?”
“Better,” I say. “So tell me about your day, about your mentor.”
“I told you. She’s nice. Really pretty. Took me to get my nails done, then we got ice cream and she took me back.” Dev shrugs. “Not much else to tell.”
“When do you get to see her again?”
“We’re going to meet twice a week, noon to two,” she says. “And she gave me her number.”
“Does she have a name?” I’m sure it was on the paperwork, but I didn’t see it before Mom signed off on everything and sent it back. Honestly, I was surprised I didn’t have to nag her fifty times to get it done, but who knows. She probably looked at it as though it was free childcare. There’s nothing Mom won’t do for a handout.
“Yep,” she says. “It’s None of Your Business Jones.”
“Smartass.” I pull into the driveway of Mom’s house and Dev climbs out of the passenger side. “Got to head back to the shop. I’ll check on you later.”
My sister rolls her eyes. “Or you know. You could get a life of your own.”
I know she’s right, but I don’t dignify her comment with a response.
Dev shuts the door before leaning in the open window, elbows resting on the open frame. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Yeah. Okay. What?”
“Are you asexual?”
I choke on my spit.
That was the last question I’d expect anyone to ask me, especially my kid sister. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Just answer it,” she says, biting her lip.
“Devanie.”
“Do you like boys, girls, or nothing?” she asks. “I don’t care. Not going to judge you. Love is love. I’m just wondering.”
“First of all, I’m not discussing my sexuality with you, Devanie,” I say. “Second of all, no. I’m not asexual. I’m very much into women. Not girls. Women.”
“Then why don’t you ever bring anyone around?” she asks. “I mean, you haven’t since Veronica.”
“Dev, I ...” my voice trails. She hasn’t brought up Veronica since shit hit the fan two years ago, and now she says it so casually. But she’s just a kid. I won’t hold it against her.
“You should get back out there then,” she says. “Start dating or something.”
“What do you know about dating?” I wrinkle my nose at her. “Dating’s for people who give a shit about dating. And I don’t give a shit about dating, therefore I don’t date.”
“Maybe I should set you up with my mentor ...” She lifts a finger, tapping it at the side of her mouth.
“You wouldn’t.” The last thing I need is to be set up with some Pollyanna goody-two-shoes volunteer.
Dev stands straight, hooking her bag over her shoulder. “Actually, yeah. You’re right. I wouldn’t. She’s too good for your lame ass.”
Thirteen
Brighton
* * *
“I brought you something,” I say to Devanie when I meet with her the next week. It's our third time getting together. Last Thursday we met up and I took her to the mall where we got Starbucks and mostly window-shopped, though I almost bought her a lotion and body spray from Bath and Body Works. I don’t want to get into the habit of buying her things every single time we get together. That creates entitlement, and I’m here to help her gain confidence, to motivate and positively influence her.
“What’s that?” Devanie stares at the filled-to-the-brim Saks bags in my hands as we sit down in the social hall of the Boys and Girls Club.
Last Thursday at the mall, I couldn’t help but notice how tight and ill-fitting Devanie’s clothes were.
She’s a bit more mature than most girls her age, a bit more developed. Longer legs too. It’s as if she hit a growth spurt and she’s trying her best to make her current wardrobe work. Her tight jean shorts were clearly cutoffs and her wrinkled t-shirt was tight in the shoulders but loose around her waist, as if she’d tugged it in an attempt to stretch it out.
On a few occasions, we passed some groups of teenage girls who all gawked at Devanie, and not in a good way.
She didn’t notice. Or if she did, she pretended not to.
But it broke my heart knowing that such a sweet girl like her would make for such an easy target for bullies like them.
I know her mom’s a single mom who works a ton, and I’m sure money’s tight and back to school shopping is still a couple of months away, so over the weekend I went through my closet and collected anything and everything I thought she might like.
I hand over the bags and watch Devanie go through a few of the items on top. They’re mostly casual dresses and tank tops, a few pairs of shorts. I’m a little bigger than she is, but I threw a couple of belts in there to help with that until she grows into some of this stuff.