“Babysitter,” I amend, which makes my sister go absolutely feral, throwing a handful of fries at me.
“She doesn’t need a babysitter,” Nadine says at the same time Paisley signs it.
I toss my hands up, looking to my best friend for help, but he merely winces.
“What your brother means to say,” Nadine starts, though I’m almost positive she signs “idiot.” I can only understand about half of the signs as she says, “He’s hoping we can be friends, so that when he goes back to work, I can hang out with you. We can explore the city together, learn all the good places to eat, go to museums. I live in New Jersey, so I’m not very familiar with it either. If you don’t mind, that is.”
Paisley considers Nadine for a few moments then shrugs, not answering one way or the other. Then she shoots her eyes to me, dark like mine, and makes the same sign Nadine did.
And I know it means idiot.
Since I’m the least fluent in ASL, Erik and Nadine are using verbal communication for my benefit. If not for me, and my need to spell out a lot of words, the conversation would be a lot better. Easier.
God.Fuck.
I would give anything to make this all easier.
I let out a pained huff as Paisley stalks off in the direction of her room, and Nadine laughs at me, full of disdain. “Nice.”
After tossing my paper napkin on the table, I bend to pick up the fries that landed on the floor. “I’m having a hard enough time. You don’t need to make it worse.”
Guilt flashes across her features before going blank. “I’m sorry. But?—”
I scoff. “Of course there’s a but.”
“She’s fourteen. You need to treat her like she’s fourteen, not four. Don’t talk down to her just because you’re uncomfortable.”
Her mini lecture hits home, especially when I remember how Valerie interacted with Paisley. In the few minutes they were together, Valerie infantilized my sister, talking slowly and patting her head. At the time, I didn’t know what to say. Or, maybe, I just didn’t want to say anything. I had the world on my shoulders, and I didn’t want to police my girlfriend as well.
But I have to acclimate to the idea that my sister is a teenager, living in my house. She can take care of herself. She simply needs some guidance.
Problem is, I’m a shit person and an even shittier big brother.
“Will you do it?” I ask Nadine, point-blank. “Will you help Paisley and me out for the rest of the summer?”
She gives in with a begrudging tip of her chin. “As long as she’s okay with it.”
We finish up eating, and after exchanging numbers with the unpleasant little wench, I tell her I’ll be in touch.
“I’ll be waiting on pins and needles,” she deadpans with a roll of her river eyes.
A minute later, I find Paisley in her room, watching something on her phone, so I flicker the lights for her attention then sign, “Can we chat?”
She pushes herself up to sitting. “After you ambushed me with a babysitter?”
“I know you don’t need a babysitter. You are old enough to take care of yourself, but I’m not going to be home. I don’t want you here by yourself.”
She doesn’t answer, only stares at the comforter on her bed, white. Same as the walls and furniture, all white. It’s a guest room. Or, was. Until a few weeks ago.
Now it belongs to a surly teenage girl.
“What did you think of Nadine?”
“You’re asking my opinion?” she signs with a sneer.
I inhale a deep breath and a roll of my shoulders, but my annoyance makes signing even harder, and I go from spelling out words to grabbing my phone to type out a note and then show it to her. While she reads, I say, “I know I haven’t been around much the last few years, and I’m sorry about that. I haven’t been the brother you need or deserve, and I’m sorry I don’t know how to be a parent like Mom and Dad.”
Her shoulders sink as she chews on her bottom lip, playing with the ends of her long ponytail, blinking away wetness from her eyes.
