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It's easy to tune out Abby and Maya's chatter. I hear what they're saying but don't bother retaining much of it. Zach sits quietly in the backseat, a small grin on his lips. That look has been on his face permanently since that day at the dog shelter. The day they worked everything out. He meets my eyes in the mirror, and winks. I shake my head and smile, then focus on my task. Get everyone to work safely.
It's my most important job...at least until I drive everyone home.
All too soon, I'm steering us past the security gate and following the winding drive around the back of the building to our private parking spots. Maya falls in step with me, letting Abby and Zach move ahead. She gently bumps her shoulder into mine. I give her a little bump back.
"How are you doing?" she asks softly.
"I'm fine."
She gives me a look and a small smile. "I mean with Janey. How are the two of you doing?"
Every moment of the last week flashes through my mind. Every interaction with Janey. "Bad. Very bad."
Maya puts a hand on my arm and pulls me to a stop. "Jonas, I'm sorry. I wish I..." she trails off with a frown. I don’t know for sure since I haven’t had enough time to learn all her faces, but I think she wishes she could fix it for me. To clear any obstacles.
"I wish too. But I can not force her to return my affection. As much as I wish I could." There's so much more I could say. More I want to say, but I can't. I don't have the words right now. My head is too full of worry.
Janey is fading away.
She still shows up at work every day. She still smiles at everyone. But when no one is looking, I see it. The pain, and fear, and sadness. Then her mask goes back on.
I know all about masks. I wear one every day.
Not all day. Not like I used to. But I've found it to be useful occasionally. There's a lot of debate in the autism community about masking. About putting on an act to fit in. I agree that we shouldn't have to. And around my brothers, I don't. They accept me completely, even if they don't always understand me.
But I learned early on that if you pull off your shirt in the middle of class, you're going to get stared at. Your classmates don't care that the tag in your shirt feels like Godzilla's claws, trying to tear through your skin. They just see the weird guy who likes to get naked. So they stare and point. And talk about you behind your back.
Sometimes, I don't want to get stared at.
And sometimes, I don't care.
Around Janey, I care.
She seems to see me more than anyone outside my family has.
In some cases, more than my family ever has.
I see her too. I see her kindness. Her softness. I see the way she doesn't believe in herself. I see her fragility.
I want her in a way I almost can't comprehend.
I'm a grown man. I have traveled around the world. I've experienced loss and grief. I've reached the highest of highs financially. I live a big life, on paper anyway.
But women were never part of my focus. I admired them. Some of them I liked to look at, but I never got close to any of them. I didn't want to.
I want to be closer to Janey. I want to be surrounded by her. I want her in my home. In my arms. In my bed.
Permanently.
And that's proving to be harder to accomplish than I imagined.
By the time I realized what that ball of heat in my chest really meant, she had a boyfriend. Now, she doesn't. But Maya told me to be her friend first.
I'm trying, but I can't seem to figure out how to do that. I want to lock her in a room with me and force her to tell me why she's so sad, so I can fix it.
I want her to let me in.
But I'm afraid of stepping over the line and making her run away.
