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Explain. How do I explain all of my dumb decisions? How do I explain that I wanted to be loved, and for a little while, I forgot to question anything? ”It’s my fault," I whisper. "I thought I could fix it myself. That if I just had a little more time, I could get back on my feet again. But the minimum payments on those credit cards are still huge." A small snort escapes. "I had no idea my credit was good enough to get limits that big." I sober quickly. It's not funny, not really. "I have a plan to save up a new security deposit, but it’s not going to happen very quickly, then Mark..."
"Mark. The man who threw a cup of hot coffee at you. Your brother,” he bites off.
I drop my head, the disgust in his voice understandable but still embarrassing. "Yes. My brother."
"Family shouldn't hurt each other, Janey. That's not ok."
"You've said that a lot tonight,” I say, a small bite to my voice. “Nothing about my life right now is ok. But I'm doing the best I can."
He looks like he wants to say more but clamps his mouth shut and closes his eyes. His fingers tap on his thigh, one, two, all the way to ten. Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured. "I do not agree. One word from you, Janey. Just a hint that you were struggling, and I would have taken care of everything. Everything. Don't you understand how much I —“ Another muttered curse. "You have suffered for no reason."
"It's not your job to take care of me," I say quietly. Judging by the glare he shoots me, he doesn't like that.
"Taking care of the people I love is not a job. It's what lets me breathe." He gives me a second to take that in. I can't relate. At all. Maybe at the beginning, when it all happened, supporting Mark and then my dad was out of love...at least a little bit. But now, it feels like an anchor dragging me under. But the alternative? The thought of dealing with them, of cutting them off, makes me want to crawl into bed and never get up again.
And the idea that I might be someone in Jonas's 'love' category? I'm not going to think about that too deeply.
"I have tried very hard to be your friend Janey."
"I know. You've been so kind. Can't you see I couldn't take advantage of that? Why coming to you, any of you, would have been wrong?"
He leans toward me, the bulk of his shoulders bunching under his dark sweater. His shadowed jaw is clenched, his eyes intense as he grabs my armrest. "No."
Is it hot in here? Maybe all the air's been used up. Jonas's coat is so warm, my body feels flushed.
He lets go and drops against his door, draping his arm over the steering wheel. "He threatened you." I look at him dumbly, honestly not sure who we're talking about. "Your brother. He threatened you with something. What was it?"
How do I make my exit in this situation? I can't exactly ask him to take me home, can I? I could get out and walk. I have my coat, and morning is not too far off. I still have my granola bars. I would be ok for now.
I'm so tired of just being ok. And of trying to handle everything on my own. I have nothing left to lose, so what if this beautiful man knows how much of a screw-up I am?
"I was in a mental institution for a while, my last year of high school. He's always threatened to send me back. It's his favorite threat, really." I peek at his face, but his features don't change.
"Threat implies there's something you have to give him in order to stop that from happening. What is it?"
I laugh hoarsely, a wave of exhaustion turning my bones to jelly. "Money. It's always money."
"How much money?”
"Usually about half my paycheck. He hasn't gotten anything from me in a month. Honestly, as terrifying as the hospital is, at least I wouldn't have to worry about food or shelter."
His fingers tap the armrest. "Can he send you back?"
Does he not care why I was at the hospital? When someone finds out, which admittedly has been rare, that's the first thing they ask.
"Probably. He's my brother. And he's really good at getting people to believe what he says."
His jaw clenches. ”You've supported him for..."
"Ten years."
He groans, and scrubs his face with his hands. "If he puts you in the hospital, his cash flow will be cut off. It's a stupid threat."
I thought about that too. But the images of the being in the hospital, of the screams echoing at night, make my skin crawl. “Maybe. But then, I'd be...in there. I don't want to go back, ever. He knows that."
Jonas studies me, gaze piercing. I don't try to hide the fear I'm feeling, the exhaustion, or anything else. I'm exposed. Finally he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
"It seems like there's a logical solution to all of this."
