He nods again.
I draw my lips in. Since the accident, the only places I’ve dropped him off are his OT and PT appointments. Never once at a store or a shopping center. Never where he’d have to fend for himself, interact with strangers who don’t understand, or communicate on his own.
Shit.
I’m scared out of my mind.
If I think about all the things that could go wrong, I won’t be able to move. I’d ask Pen to do it, but she just left to meet with a new client, and Lark has class. Nobody else here has a car, and I’m sure as hell not going to ask Mom or Dad to help. They’d stress out, and then Tyler would stress out.
But just looking at the hope in Tyler’s eyes makes doing anything other than helping him impossible.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Okay.”
It takes me a few minutes, but I put together a plan with some safeguards. We dig up Tyler’s iPhone 6 and charge it. Until now he’s had zero interest in using it because of the fine motor control it requires, but even if he doesn’t need it, I can use the location-tracking to make sure he’s okay and find him if things go sideways.
I’ll have a break between my second and third clients, and I can pick him up then, but that’ll be a couple of hours. When I explain that, Tyler just shrugs like it’s no big deal. Still, I set my number, Pen’s number, and, after just a moment’s hesitation, Lark’s number in his favorites, so reaching someone with a car is easy. Just in case. I’d love to set up an Uber account for him, but inputting addresses and destinations is a bridge too far.
Maybe that can be something we practice. Something to give him more freedom.
But until this morning, Tyler hasn’t wanted anything like that.
And the fact that he wants to go to a fabric store is blowing my mind. But I take it as a good sign. An important sign.
Thirty minutes later, I’m dropping him off at Ambassador Row shopping center. None of the stores that line the strip mall are open yet except Sally Beauty Supply, and I don’t see Tyler killing time there.
I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel when I look over at my brother. “You’re really okay waiting?”
He nods, but it’s the smile he’s wearing that convinces me. He looks excited. A little nervous, but excited in a way I barely recognize.
I point to some tables with umbrellas outside of Athena Greek & Lebanese Food. “You can sit over there in the shade until ten.”
Tyler makes a noise that I interpret as,Duh. I can see that.
I look back at him, a sudden thought sending me into a panic. “Do you need money?”Shit.I have maybe two dollars in my wallet and my debit card, and I love my brother, but I can’t trust him with that.
But Tyler’s smile turns into a smirk. He leans forward, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out his wallet. He pries it open to reveal a thick slab of cash.
“What the hell, Tyler?!”
Still wearing a smug grin, he says one word I should have expected. “Da...d.”
Dad. Of course. Judging by the stash he’s showing me, Dad probably slips him a twenty every time he sees him. Because that’s all my father knows how to do.
And even though it niggles at me that it’s the only tool in his toolbox, picturing my Dad doing this—secretly, without me ever noticing—softens something inside me.
“Cool.” And watching my brother tuck his thick wallet back into his pocket with that smug look is so familiar and yet so long-lost my throat tightens.
Jesus, when was the last time he looked so confident?
My eyes sting, and I have to blink at break-neck speed to keep them dry.
It doesn’t do much good because after Tyler unfastens his seat belt and pushes his door open, he turns to me and puts his sluggish tongue between his teeth.
“Th...Tha...n...k… you.”
He gets out and is closing the door before I can barely form a wobbly, chin-quivering, “You’re welcome!”
So I don’t hover and stare at him like some kind of weirdo, I drive away, blubbering like a psycho. I have to pull over outside of Tokyo Steakhouse to get a hold of myself and clean up my smearing mascara.
