Page 12 of Landon (In Safe Hands)
Ineed this job and there’s no way I’m going to screw it up by sleeping with him.Judging by the way he came onto me in the bar when we first met, he’s not astranger to one night stands. Even if I could work with him after a nice sweatynaked hug, he would find a reason to get rid of me. So there you have it. Nosex with the ocean-eyed man slut.
Thenight passes quickly as I finish cleaning his kitchen and move on to the livingroom. It’s not too bad, mostly just dusty, as he said. By the time I’ve wipeddown all the surfaces and vacuumed the carpet, it’s time to go.
Iknow he saw through my lie earlier. There’s no friend picking me up, but I can’tkeep relying on him for transportation, and there’s no reason I can’t catch acab. Twenty minutes after I call, the taxi pulls up out front and I lock thedoor behind me, tucking the house key in my pocket.
Aftera day at school and work, I’m dead on my feet. I can’t wait to take a long hotshower and wash away the dust and grime. That is until I see the note Ethanleft me on the bathroom mirror.
Hotwater’s out. Called maintenance. Said they’ll get to it.
Crumplingthe note in my hand, I utter a few choice words about our landlords. We need anew water heater. This is the third time we’ve had to call them and they aren’tquick toget to it.The giant kettle we use to heat water is sitting onthe stove and a lump rises in my throat. Ethan is just a kid. He shouldn’t haveto live like this. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to get ahead, to getus out of this hellhole.
Afterfilling up the kettle, I fire up the burner and wait. Ethan’s door is open acrack, so I peek in to see him sprawled in bed, playing on his phone. “It’slate. You should be asleep.”
“Idon’t have to work tomorrow. I just plan on playing video games with the guys.”
“Havefun. I know I haven’t been around much lately. Is everything okay? Do you needanything?”
“Nope,I’m good. And I don’t need my sister following me around and killing my game,”he teases.
“Alrightthen, pimp daddy. I’ll let you go to sleep.”
“Nevercall me that again,” he laughs.
“Iwon’t. Only when your friends are here.”
Hethrows a pillow, and it smacks the door as I tug it closed. He’s such a goodkid. It kills me that I can’t give him the things he deserves. Like parents wholove him.
Heknew when he was twelve that he was gay, and I’m the only person he told.Unfortunately, just after his fifteenth birthday, my mother searched his phoneand found text messages he sent to a boy he liked. It wasn’t anything dirty orexplicit, but it didn’t matter. They gave him the choice of going to aconversion therapy camp where they try to torture the gay away, or leaving. Ipicked him up and he’s been with me ever since.
Washingmy hair in cold water in the sink is miserable, but it beats shivering throughan icy shower. Toting my shampoo in the kitchen, I wash my hair as fast as humanlypossible. Still shivering, I drag the kettle of warm water into the bathroom,strip down and stand in the tub. If I wanted to take the time, I could’vewaited for a few kettles to boil and had enough for a bath, but I’m exhausted.A quick scrub down will have to do.
Finally,I’m dressed in my pajamas and curled up on the couch. One more day of work, andI can veg out all weekend. A pile of mail awaits me on the coffee table, but Idon’t want to open it. It’s never good news, only bills and more bills. Anenvelope from Ethan’s school catches my attention and I rip it open.
Hegoes back in a week or so and I need to remember to take him to get some schoolclothes and supplies. In the envelope is a signup sheet for a driver’seducation class. One semester for three hundred dollars. I know how bad hewants to get his license, and I also know he’ll never ask, knowing how tightour money is. Maybe I can come up with it by the second semester.
Exhaustedmentally and physically, I drag myself to bed, grateful I don’t have anyclasses tomorrow. I can sleep in for a change.
Thesound of banging from the hallway wakes me a little after nine. “I letmaintenance in,” Ethan says, popping his head into my room. “And there aredonuts on the kitchen table.”
“Yourealize I’m supposed to be the adult here, right?”
“Relax,you get to go to work while I lie around, play games and eat chips. You’re theadult today.”
“Goodto know.” I drag myself out of bed. “Hey!” I call as he retreats. “Save sometime for me tomorrow. We’ll hit the mall and get you some school supplies.”
“Ihave to be seen in public with you?”
“Ifyou want new shit.”
“Toughchoice, but I guess I can suffer through.” He flashes me a smile. “Thanks.”
Mymorning is spent straightening up the apartment and making a tuna casserole forEthan’s dinner. I’m just popping it in the fridge when Frannie calls andinvites me to lunch. Rowdy cries erupt from Ethan’s room where he and hisfriends are glued to the game.
“Hell,yes. Come and get me,” I tell her.
“Howdid you get off work so early?” I ask as we take a seat at our favorite Italianplace. Frannie works as a receptionist in Indy’s hottest tattoo parlor.
“It’sslow today, so Finn told me to go. Tomorrow and Sunday are booked up, so I’llmore than make up for it. What’s up with you, girl? Haven’t heard from you in afew days. Did you get that cleaning job?”
