Maid to Order (3 page)

If not for that Amy would know him even less than she did. However, there was only so much her mother was able to do… legally or otherwise. So now, along with a relatively new business to run, Amy was also Danny’s only living blood relative… and caregiver slash legal guardian.

While that sounded good on paper, realistically it was just the catalyst of the many arguments between the two of them. Danny had heart problems himself, was on medication and had been quite dependent on his mother when she’d been alive and vice versus.

Amy was the first to admit she didn’t really know that much about Down Syndrome but for the most part Danny was simply too much like her. Their inability to communicate and compromise with each other had less to do with him having Down Syndrome and more about the fact that they competed for who was the
most
stubborn.

Amy felt bad for Danny, especially since he didn’t understand that she hadn’t put him in the group home to be mean or because she didn’t like him. She just didn’t really know him or how to properly take care of him. Not to mention, where would he stay in her tiny little apartment? Quite honestly even if she did have a clue how to care for an adult with special needs, with the way things were right now, she wouldn’t have the time for him that he deserved.

If something happened to him… with his heart condition… because she didn’t take good enough care of him, she’d never forgive herself. She didn’t have time for Grudge, her twenty five pound pug, let alone another human being who required… whatever special care Danny’s heart condition required.

More importantly, how happy would he be living with someone that was just as good at arguing as he was? His mother had always allowed him his way and that just wasn’t going to happen with her. He had some of the backbone she appreciated in a man… just not coming from her
brother
. Maybe she’d just been an only child for too long.

After several hours of research, what felt like hundreds of phone calls and four visits to various group homes in the surrounding Dayton area, she’d come across the one Danny was currently living in. Danny had his own bedroom and the caregivers worked with him based on his individual needs and abilities. They were specifically trained to help people with special needs, like Danny, but for whatever reason he seemed to detest the place. Amy just couldn’t quite figure out why and when she would ask, his inability to put into words what it was that he didn’t like about the place only served to frustrate him further.

At her mother’s insistence, Amy had been trying to visit Danny at least three to four times a week in an effort to get to know him better. However, each time she did visit she ended up feeling like the world’s meanest sibling and worst caregiver ever by the time she left. Today would likely be no different but it was one more thing that seemed to be important to a mother Amy simply adored and therefore couldn’t say no to.

The small sliver of hope that her mother held on to that Amy might possibly bond with Danny was beginning to fade a little more each day. Instead, the two of them often seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

If she could somehow clone herself in an effort to grant Danny’s wishes she would, but that wasn’t feasible. Not to mention, it was highly unlikely that even if she could take Danny home with her, that he would like her house any better than the group home. She was a far cry from the neat freak that Danny was. Making him understand that was proving impossible, though, and for the first time in her life she understood why their father had struggled with being able to handle Danny. It had been easy to sit in judgment of her father’s lack of a relationship with his only son until faced with Danny herself… even with her mother’s help, advice and suggestions.

An hour later, after a thorough workout from trying to get cleanup tasks done as quickly as possible, she and Renee locked up and walked out to their cars together. Renee hugged her and gave her that sympathetic smile that said she wished Amy all the luck in the world with getting along with Danny for the evening. Then Renee got in her car and drove away.

The drive across town was tedious at best, especially when she was actually dreading arriving at her destination. Not wanting to visit her only sibling only added to her feelings of guilt. It could have easily been her that was stuck in a group home that she hated because Danny didn’t have room or time for her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with Danny, she just didn’t want the arguments when she was ready to leave and go home. It wasn’t fair to either one of them.

Society seemed to want to group all people with Down Syndrome together in the same box. That container included stigmas like they were happy all the time, loving toward everyone and very affectionate. That was true for the most part… even with Danny.

Unfortunately the general public often didn’t account for the fact that they were people above all else, which meant they experienced a plethora of emotions just like anyone else. They also had reason and logic in varying degrees just like everyone else and even if a little hard to understand from time to time… the ability to communicate their emotions…
all
of them.
Even the not so pleasant and loving sentiments.

Nothing could bring on comments or dirty looks from strangers faster than the idea that Amy could make an adult man with Down Syndrome cuss.
Like a sailor.
Suddenly it wasn’t Danny they were staring at anymore but her instead… as though she’d done something so horrible that it caused even the gentlest and most loving person on earth to come unglued.

This earned her stares filled with revulsion and other dark opinions. If they took a minute to actually get to know Danny, they would understand that he could be
seriously
frustrating, especially when his mind was set on something.

They would also find out that Danny had worse road rage than any person she knew… even though he didn’t even have a driver’s license himself. There were times she just wanted to yell at the gawkers and ask what the hell they were looking at… that she had no control over what may or may not come out of his mouth! However, that would probably just earn her even more dirty looks. The only time the man managed to control himself for any length of time was during Sunday morning church service.
Thankfully
.

It was almost like he reserved his bad behavior just for Amy. He was even well behaved for Amy’s mother for the most part. Trying to get her mother to let Amy in on the secret to getting Danny to behave himself only garnered the same answer as though it were a pre-programmed response.

“You’re going to have to get to know him on your own, Amy. There’s no manual on how to bond with a sibling… especially an adult one. It’s something that you just have to do all by yourself… it can’t be taught or learned,” her mother would say.
That was helpful… not.

Pulling up in front of the group home, she sucked in a breath and held it for a moment. The extra oxygen was for courage and for strength. Then, getting out of the car, she headed up the walk only to be met at the door by Danny himself. He looked happy to see her and she allowed the breath she had been holding to release along with some of the anxiety she’d been carrying since leaving the bakery.

The unease she’d been feeling returned with a vengeance when she approached where he stood in the doorway and he said, “You’re late, Amy. I was waiting forever and you didn’t come on time today.”

Sighing, she said, “I’m sorry, Danny. I was at work and I was running late. I’m sorry…”

“I want to work at the bakery too, Amy. I’m a good worker if you would just let me try,” he said as she managed to step through the open door and past him.

Rather than dignifying him with a response which would only serve to start the first argument between them for the evening she said, “Did you go to the library today?”

“They still don’t have the movie I want. I reserved it over a month ago, Amy, but the person who has it now has to bring it back first,
before I can check it out with my library card,” he replied. “Maybe on Saturday, you can take me back to check and see if the person who has it now returned it… on Saturday morning.”

“I can’t take you on Saturday, remember? I have to make cupcakes for the festival all day. We talked about this…” she replied.

“I only have five days to pick up the movie once it’s returned. If the person who has the movie now brings it back, I have five days to check it out with my library card or I have to request it
again
. We can check on Saturday. That’s what the lady at the library said… check to see if the person who has it now brought it back… on Saturday,” he insisted.

Amy could feel her pulse rate picking up but instead of arguing asked, “Do you want to play a card game or watch a show on TV?”

Using the same trait her mother accused her of possessing, Danny stubbornly refused to let go of the subject at hand.

“We have to go to the library on Saturday to see if the person who has the movie now brought it back so I can check it out on my library card,” he argued. “If I spend the night at your house, I can walk to the library by myself. I’m a good walker… I stay on the sidewalk and I watch for the walk signals at the crosswalk and my library card is good at any library around the Dayton area.”

A migraine was settling in from gritting her teeth because now along with arguing over the library they would also be arguing about him staying overnight at her apartment. To add to the stress was the thought that prior to driving over here to see him, she’d forgotten to stop off at the apartment and let Grudge outside to use the bathroom. So chances were good, there would be a mess waiting for her when she returned from her nightly argument with Danny.

“You can’t stay overnight with me this weekend, Danny. I have to open the bakery really early because of the festival and there’ll be a lot more traffic than normal so you can’t be walking around town on Saturday. The shop is closed on Monday so I promise to take you on Monday instead,” she tried.

“I don’t want to stay here until Monday. I want to stay at your house this weekend. I want to go to the library and to the festival too. I don’t need a babysitter, Amy. Damn it, I’m a grown up. I’m ready to try an overnight stay at your house,” he insisted. “I can help you with Grudge. He always goes to the bathroom for me. I can walk him too. Please, Amy?”

She could feel tears burning behind her eyes when she looked at him. He would never understand that it wasn’t personal. There were just so many things she was responsible for right now that each of those things had a time slot and unfortunately this weekend wasn’t his turn. The look of pleading on his face only made it that much harder to deny him. Unfortunately she wasn’t his mother so caving in wasn’t an option… she’d already signed up for this festival and couldn’t back out now.

With as crazy as Saturday would be she couldn’t keep an eye on Danny along with baking, running the shop, which would likely be busier than normal thanks to the festival, and transport cupcakes up to the sales booth as well. She wasn’t Superwoman… even with her mom there to help for part of the morning. It just wasn’t do-able and he would just have to understand that.

“I’m sorry, Danny. I can’t… not this weekend,” she said with finality.

His pleading look changed to a brief shot of anger and hurt before he turned and walked away heading toward his bedroom. The visit was over apparently… his body language said as much. Martha, who was normally the day shift caregiver, but happened to be working overtime, approached her hesitantly
.

“He’s still reading the books he gets from the library. He continues to meet every challenge that we give him. Again, I urge you to consider an assisted living program for him. As the director mentioned he is very capable and could easily be taught to live independently. I’m confident in that. His abilities set him well above the other residents here. It’s important to continue to challenge him to learn new things and do for himself whenever possible and I’m afraid we just can’t do that for him here. I believe his behavior is a manifestation of the frustration he feels from that,” Martha said. “When his mother was alive, he had a purpose… to help take care of her. Now that’s gone and he needs a new challenge.”

“I know… but both places I called don’t have any spots available for him,” she replied.

“Have you considered trying to acclimate him into your own household?” Martha asked.

“I’m hardly ever home or I would consider it. However, I shouldn’t even have my dog, Grudge, because I’m never there to care for him. Moving Danny in would be all wrong for him because I wouldn’t be around to teach him independence either. I’ll keep looking though, I promise,” she replied.

Martha gave her a weak but understanding smile. As expected, Amy headed home feeling like the worst sister ever. Pulling up in front of her apartment which was only a couple of blocks away from the bakery, she grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and headed for her half of the duplex that the home had been divided into.

Upon hauling her purse over to her she noticed the slip of paper with the man’s name and number on it that Ian had given her sticking out from the pile of stuff crammed within, and decided to try Rusty Hawkins one more time.

Chapter Two

His fourteenth try would have to be the winner. He didn’t have it in him to make a fifteenth attempt. The OCD he was often teased about forced Rusty to push the notebook away, get up from the little table, collect up the wads and wads of crumpled paper lying around and then take them to the kitchen to dispose of them. Perhaps his brothers would realize upon finding the multitude of crinkly pieces of paper in the trashcan that he had gone to great lengths to explain his choices to them… because he loved them that much.

Then, heading back toward the dining room, he stopped off in the area that he used as an office and opened the filing cabinet near his small desk. He fished out his last will and testament, the deed to the house, and a list of his next of kin from among the files. The list basically consisted of his brothers in arms, Ronnie, Seth, and Ian… a friend of his from high school, Greg Sanders… and his blood sister, Lauren.

Little Miss Can Do.

Lauren was two years older than him and as different from him as night was from day. Where he was moody, she was friendly. He had nothing more than a high school diploma, even though the government was willing to reward his years of service in the military with an education. Lauren had a Master’s degree in Economics and a Doctorate in Sociology.

Rusty worked out on a daily basis and often took the fact that he was in great physical shape for a man his age for granted. His sister was bound to a wheelchair and had been her whole life. He’d been blessed with the brawn and she’d been blessed with the brains of the family.

When they were younger, he’d always thought he’d gotten the better end of the stick out of the two of them. Only time and experience had shown him differently. Lauren was comfortable in her own skin despite her condition and had never
let it slow her down.

He had always felt like the odd man out, like he didn’t fit in, so at some point in his life he had just stopped trying. People could take him as he was or kiss his ass and leave him alone. Lauren was a volunteer for various charities and could organize community events like a professional, even if she couldn’t physically help with them. A humanitarian Rusty would never be.

His sister lived in California and taught economics classes at the University of California, Berkley and also worked part time at a women’s shelter in another town. Nothing was more inspiring to a woman down on her luck, trying to pull herself up by her bootstraps, than a professional woman who most would assume was developmentally impaired just based on her physical characteristics.

For most people Lauren was inspiring… to him it was just one more reminder that he didn’t measure up. Hell, even
she
didn’t need him. Most of the time it was the other way around… or seemed to be. She would call to check on him as though he was her personal responsibility…
or liability
. No one needed that holding them back.

Their grandfather had raised them after their dad split and their mom drown in a boating accident. Rusty had only been three when they’d come to live with him and Lauren only five. He’d not allowed either of them a minute of self-pity so maybe Rusty was just making up for it now by having a party with all of it.

Not Lauren though. She’d taken the old man’s constant speeches about contributing to society in some meaningful way to heart and gone well above and beyond. He hadn’t had the grades for college so had joined the military after finishing the police academy with hopes of making his grandfather proud by serving his country.

Wherever his grandfather was now, Rusty seriously doubted that allowing a man with less rank than him to take charge in a shit-storm would have filled the old man with pride. Not like say, having two impressive degrees, a crap load of people who looked up to you, a nice comfortable house you bought and paid for yourself and honorable mentions for several charity organizations throughout the country. All accomplished from the confines of a wheelchair.

Brains or brawn? Lauren had definitely ended up with the better deal by being so damn smart.

He would never get a chance to tell her that though. She wouldn’t accept his negativity anyway and would have just climbed his ass about it in much the same way their grandfather had always done. Someday she would also understand why he’d done this. Not having to keep track of her younger brother would allow her to do even more good works.

He placed the documents on the table and headed back to the bathroom to get some blankets out of the closet to spread out on the floor and a pillowcase. No need to make this dramatic and messy. Why he even cared, he wasn’t sure, but it was just part of his makeup… not to stand out or draw attention to himself. Once he’d situated things adequately, he sat down at the table once again and pulled the notebook over to him.

Brothers
,

This letter finds you grieving and for that I am sorry. I have faith that on some distant day you will discover that my reasons were sound though the action taken may seem extreme right now. Not having a purpose in life is by far the worst affliction a man can live with and one that I am no longer willing to suffer. It is no different than enduring a physical pain, only this one causes the soul to bleed, which is excruciating and never eases or ends.

Please know that I am truly sorry for the scars you are forced to live with due to my inaction in the face of danger and chaos. That one experience identified a flaw in me that I feel renders me unfit to lead any unit or even continue to serve this great country. Unfortunately, that leaves me in a quandary because I don’t know anything else. I’ve served since the day I graduated from the police academy and possess no other skillset. Twenty three years I’ve spent trying to stay alive and keep others safe, which I nearly failed to do in the end, only to figure out that I never really learned how to live.

Never one that was able to get the hang of things easily, I find learning to live outside the constraints of the uniform is one skill I am unable to master. Remember me as I was before life became too much for me to abide rather than as the shell of a man I’ve become. Know that I couldn’t have asked for a better group of men with which to serve and befriend.

Rusty

Glancing at his cell phone he took a deep breath for courage to make the call that would ensure that the authorities would know to come when it was over. As he reached for it, it suddenly started ringing causing him to physically jump. He’d been so focused on carrying out his plan that it actually startled him.

“Damn it!” he muttered, picking up the phone and turning it over. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen.

It had taken him all day to prepare himself for this, both mentally and physically. Now some idiot who probably had the wrong number had completely thrown him off.
Delaying the inevitable once again.
Only this time, along with pissing him off, it also made him sick to his stomach. The anxiety he felt was doing more damage at the moment than the gun in his right hand would. He could just ignore the call since it wasn’t even someone he knew but for whatever reason he didn’t.

“Yes?” he answered angrily.

“Oh good! You’re there,” a woman said excitedly. “This is Amy Carlton… I called earlier and left a message on your voicemail. Did you get it?”

He’d listened to the voicemail she’d left earlier offering him temporary work and blown it off against his own sense of propriety that he should at least call her back before… Glancing up at the clock on the wall of his dining room, he noticed it was well after nine at night.
What was wrong with people?
Didn’t they even stop to check if it was an acceptable time to call someone?

“Yeah, I got it,” he said in a half-hearted attempt to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?” he asked gruffly. He wasn’t normally so rude on the phone but he needed to finish this before he lost his nerve.

“Well… can you help me out or not?” she asked, sounding equally frustrated.

“No. Man Maid is no longer in business,” he replied, no longer caring if he was being rude. He needed to end this conversation quickly.

“Really? That’s funny because I’m looking at today’s paper and there’s a big advertisement for your business right here,” she said sarcastically. He could hear the sounds of an actual newspaper being shaken to better make her point. A woman after his own heart, he liked to read the newspaper the old fashioned way too… by holding it in his hands rather than reading it on the internet. “Man Maid… Man enough for
all
your cleaning needs. That’s you, right? Man Maid is your business or is Ian Hamilton lying to me?”

“Ian?” he asked, his interest piqued.

Instead of answering him, she instead sounded as though she was talking to someone else in the background. As though Rusty wasn’t important enough to garner her full undivided attention. Nothing made him angrier faster than when someone called a person but then was distracted by everything and everyone else but the person they’d called.

“Did you do this, Grudge?” she asked, obviously holding the phone away from her mouth as though that would keep him from hearing her side conversation. “I know I forgot to come home and let you outside and I’m sorry for that but you can’t poop in the house and you certainly can’t be chewing up the newspaper. If you have to go, you’re supposed to go on the paper… silly, Billy.”

Seriously?
She was talking to her dog like it was a small child in need of correction. One more item
on a growing list of things that was irritating him about the woman who’d interrupted his plans for the evening.

“Listen, lady. The business is shutting down so I’m not sure what Ian told you but I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he interrupted her gentle baby-talk tirade against the dog.

“Shutting down means you are in the
process
of closing but not out of business
yet
, which according to your own advertisement means that you are still man enough to handle all my cleaning needs,” she said even more frustrated than before. “Otherwise it’s false advertisement.”

“So sue me, Mrs. Carlton,” he huffed.

“It’s Ms. Carlton… or just Amy. I own AmyCakes in Miamisburg and Ian said that if I asked you nicely you would help me, at least for this coming weekend,” she said with a much less antagonistic tone to her voice.
Was she pouting now?

“You call this asking me nicely?” he asked, a little taken aback by her statement. “You call me after nine o’clock at night and
demand
that I help you with a job that you haven’t even specified the details of and then proceed to ignore me while you scold your dog in a way that I’m
sure
will guarantee his future obedience. This is your version of asking someone nicely?”

“You’re not being very nice either…” she replied quietly.

If she were a recruit he’d make her sorry she’d been the strongest swimmer of the bunch when mommy and daddy got busy between the sheets. He could feel his blood pump through his veins a little faster. Even the guys didn’t test him to these limits and they were his friends. Pushing away from the table, he stood up… not that she could see that or even know that it meant she was dangerously close to crossing the line.

“Well, that may be true, Ms. Carlton but I didn’t call
you,
now did I? I wasn’t the one who potentially woke someone up only to demand they do what I want them to, now was I?” he asked, attempting not to grind his teeth in his frustration.

“It’s just Amy… calling me Ms. anything makes me feel…
old
. I’m sorry if I woke you up but you didn’t call me back and I’m kind of in a panic here,” she said. He could hear her rustling around and knew he still didn’t have her full attention which made him full blown angry… like he hadn’t been since being in the service. “Are you hungry, baby? Mommy will make her big boy something yummy, yes she will,” she said sweetly after a few grunts and some heavy breathing.

Somehow the sound of her voice as she talked to her mutt made him wonder what she looked like. Upon realizing the direction of his thoughts, which was completely out of character for him these days, he forced himself to picture her as extremely ugly, exceptionally old, morbidly obese or any combination of those qualities. Standing up a little straighter and preparing to rip her a new one for being so disrespectful and rude, he was again caught off guard when she said, “Were you sleeping, Rusty?”

Shock and awkwardness set in as he felt the lower half of his body respond to the husky sound of her voice saying his name, then the anger returned in full force.

“Ms. Carlton, in case your parents never taught you this, let me give you some etiquette advice. Don’t call people by their first name or any variation of it until they give you permission to. Just because you give them consent to call you by your first name doesn’t mean that they have granted you the same liberties. You can address me as Mr. Hawkins, Master Sergeant or even Sir, but until I give permission you don’t address me as Rusty!” he said.
That should show her or maybe even cause her to hang up on him.

“Mmm… Sir, huh? I like that,” she said even more huskily and then laughed softly.

She was flirting with him!

Good grief… what the hell was wrong with him?
Or her for that matter?
She’d effectively turned him on simply from disobeying a direct order and trying to turn the fact that she’d been incredibly rude into a joke…
or a come on.

“I’m afraid you read too many books, Ms. Carlton,” he managed to choke out. “I’m also afraid you’ll have to call someone else, wake them up and then make your demands of them.”

“Wait… please. I really need some help this weekend. My delivery driver quit and Renee… my other employee… only works part time and I don’t want my mom to feel like she has to stay and help out. Please, it’s just for Friday and Saturday. I can actually do the cleanup work on Sunday morning. I’ll skip church and everything to get it done myself, that way all you have to do is either deliver the cupcakes during the festival or run the shop while I make the deliveries. Please?” she said as though trying to explain away her earlier behavior.