Chapter 4
“ H e was there until she was done with her routine for the evening then he left but that’s not the case anymore,” Layla finished, head hung.
She was at the Martin Community Center where the weekly support group she attended was held.
Beyond the typical neighborhood community center, this one specialized in being a safe zone for both those with Autism, on any end of the spectrum, and their caregivers.
It was where she’d met Brittany years ago and the only place she felt safe discussing the trials and tribulations of being with a partner who didn’t hold his own weight.
“I guess we’re going to slowly transition her so that she will get used to him not being in the house. They don’t talk a lot, but she’s calm when she knows he’s there unless we’re arguing. Once she’s accepted the lack of his presence, he wants to tell her about the divorce, but I’m not exactly sure that will be necessary.”
“Why not?” Carolyn asked.
“Why does she have to know our marriage is over? It’s not like I’m going to have another man around.”
“Ever?”
Layla shrugged.
“As long as she’s comfortable with his absence, that’s all I care about. The details of his absence shouldn’t be something she has to worry about.”
“I understand your desire to shield Dior, but I’m concerned about you. We can help you with this transition for Dior, but what about you?”
Sighing, Layla looked around at all the pairs of eyes on her.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will be, with help. It’s tough accepting it, especially when it comes to our children, but with the right support system, Dior will soar. You’re actually doing the both of you a disservice trying to handle this by yourself.” Carolyn paused, giving Layla time to accept her words.
“There are countless resources available to you here but all you take advantage of is this support group. It is a great start, but I want you to open yourself up for more. I think you should talk to Andres about an aide for Dior.” Layla’s head began to shake immediately, but Carolyn continued.
“He will not only be able to help you prepare her for high school and making that new friend, but he can also help you and Dior make this transition from your husband as smooth as possible.”
“I agree,” Brittany added.
“I be wanting to tell you to meet me and Richie up here for the activities and clubs and parties, but I get so tired of you saying no that I’ve stopped. I get the need to want to fiercely shelter and protect your child and not trust them with anyone else, but we don’t have to do this alone.”
“Andres is the absolute best at what he does,” Emery, another mother picked up.
“When he helped me and Tamela as she started middle school, things took a complete 180 turn for us. Not only did he help Tamela adjust to her new normal, but my depression and anxiety got under control too. I needed help more than I was willing to admit, and he provided that along with his team.”
“What do you say?” Carolyn asked.
“Will you at least talk to Andres and see what, if anything, he can do to make this easier for you and Dior?”
All eyes were on Layla as she took in everything they’d said.
Truth—she didn’t want anyone’s help consistently with Dior because she didn’t trust them.
Layla wanted to tell them that was easy to say.
Brittany’s husband, though he worked, was active in both their lives when he was home.
If Layla couldn’t trust Carlos, her child’s own father…
who could she really trust?
It had taken all of Dior’s life for them to get a routine established that worked for the both of them.
They had their own way of speaking and doing things that gave Dior the space to thrive.
She was the brightest, most unique child Layla had ever known, and she was proud of the progress they had made.
However, she was only one person, and she didn’t want to limit Dior’s growth.
Could it be possible?
Was there a team out there that she could trust to help her make her daughter’s life the best it could possibly be?
“Okay.” As she rubbed her hands down her legs, she nibbled her bottom lip.
“I will, at least, talk to him. But I’m not promising anything.”
Carolyn stood with a wide smile.
“Do it now before you change your mind.”
“He’s here?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
“But… I…” As the members of her support group cheered, Layla lagged behind as Carolyn led her away by her hand.
“I can wait. There’s really no rush.”
“The bags under your eyes say otherwise. If you’re not sleeping, you’re probably not eating. Neither of those are acceptable.”
Not affirming or denying, Layla huffed and pulled her hand from Carolyn’s.
Though they’d become a small family over the years, this was the first time in a long time that the attention had been solely on Layla, and she was starting to regret even opening her mouth.
Carolyn tapped on the light brown door softly.
“Come in.”
“Hey, nephew,” Carolyn greeted, sticking her head inside the door.
“Can I trouble you for a few minutes of your time?”
“It’s no trouble at all. What’s up?”
Layla rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing as she listened a little deeper—unsure if she heard who she thought she was hearing.
“I have a mother out here who could use your help. She doesn’t think she needs it, but after talking to her, I’m sure you can convince her of otherwise.”
He chuckled.
“I can’t force my help on her, you know that, but I’m willing to speak with her.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
Carolyn opened the door fully and stepped to the side so Layla could enter.
When their eyes locked, they both shared a soft laugh.
There was no way she could forget Tiny’s human.
Not only was their meeting memorable but he was handsome as hell.
Removing his round, silver glasses, he stood.
Him and those beautiful eyes.
Those long, curly lashes.
“It’s good to see you,” he announced, voice lower than it had been when he was talking to Carolyn.
“You too. Where’s Tiny?”
His smile widened, showing off those pretty ass teeth.
“Out back actually. I’ll take you out when we’re done here so y’all can share some ice cream.”
Layla laughed, realizing it was the first time she’d done so in days.
For a few seconds, all they did was stand there, staring at each other, with comfortable smiles.
“Well I’m gonna go,” Carolyn announced with a wide grin.
She gently pushed Layla further into his office.
As the door closed behind her, the otherwise spacious room seemed to shrink in size.
And heat.
Stepping closer, Layla found herself enveloped by his woodsy, citrusy scent.
Inhaling deep lungs full, she cupped her hands in front of her and rocked on her heels.
Clearing his throat, he motioned for her to have a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite end of his desk.
She did, noticing the nameplate that spelled out Andres .
“So how can I help you?” he asked, sitting across from her.
“I don’t think I need help. Well, I do, but I was hoping it would come from my husband. That’s obviously not going to happen, so Carolyn suggested maybe you could help.”
Andres nodded.
“Why don’t I tell you who I am and what I do, then you can decide if there’s anything I can do for you.”
That sounded fair enough, so Layla agreed with a nod.
She listened intently as he gave her a brief rundown of how he was not just an advocate for both children and adults with Autism but an aide as well.
He helped children and their parents come up with structured routines and plans for any phase of life and when needed he offered his services with in-home caregiving and help.
In addition to his help, he also headed the Caregivers Union within the Martin community center and nonprofit foundation.
The more he talked, the sexier he became.
Sure, his browned butter complexion, patchy, scruffy beard, and freckled nose were already attractive…
but the more he talked about his passion, the more turned on Layla became.
At one point, she’d drowned his voice out altogether, focusing only on the movement of his sexy ass lips.
“Does it sound like I can be of service to you?”
Her brows wrinkled and she stared at him for a few seconds, willing her brain to replay the last words he’d said.
“Um…” She chuckled softly.
“I’m still not exactly sure. I mean, yes. It does sound like you can, I’m just not sure if I want help. I know that sounds silly but…”
“I get it,” he assured quickly.
“Son or daughter?”
“Daughter.” Layla smiled.
“She’s thirteen and about to start high school. Her name is Dior, and she’s majestically beautiful and bright. Dior has Asperger’s. I’ve been her primary caregiver since birth. Our biggest struggle has been interaction with other people. She does have the standard mark of A.S. when it comes to her socialization skills and communication but it’s a very low mark. Up until now, she’s stayed to herself for the most part. Since she’s starting high school, she’s expressed interest in wanting to make a friend that she can celebrate her fourteenth birthday with in August.” Covering her mouth as her chin trembled, Layla paused and dried her teary eyes.
“I thought this would be a momentous occasion for our family, but when I told her father, he didn’t really care at all.” Breath and body shuddering, she used that to release her brewing anger.
“He decided to take that time to let me know he wanted to turn our legal separation into divorce after her first year of high school. I was telling the group about that, and they suggested I speak with you.”
Andres stood and made his way around the desk.
Sitting next to her, he took her right hand into his and topped it with his free hand.
“I’m sorry that you’re going through all of this, but I’m confident that I can help. What makes what my team and I do so special is that we don’t just help the kids in our program; we help their parents too. After meeting with Dior and making sure I’m a good fit for her, I can, with confidence, help her prepare for high school, making friends, and accepting your divorce. I can also make sure you are at your best during this time as well. Help with Dior means relief for you. I can make sure you get the rest and care you need so that you can continue to be all that Dior needs. That’s if you’re willing to accept my help.”
Layla nibbled on her bottom lip.
Up until this point, she hadn’t seen the benefit of having help.
But in a short amount of time, Andres had broken things down to her in a way that made it seem necessary.
Her eyes scanned his face, taking in small features like his pierced ears and short, curly, tapered haircut.
Anything would be a better focus than how calming his presence was.
“How much would this cost? My husband wants me to get a job in preparation for the divorce, so I don’t know how much I’ll have to spare because I doubt if it will be covered by our insurance.”
Andres smiled softly, caressing her palm with his thumb.
“Don’t worry about that. Right now, all I need is a yes.”
The word tumbled from her lips before she could even process it.
His smile widened as he released her hand and stood.
Making his way back to his original seat, Andres told her that he was proud of her for taking that step and assured her that she wouldn’t regret it.
After calling his assistant to come in and gather some information for her, he asked her for her name.
“Layla,” she answered sweetly.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Layla. I have to admit, I was hoping I’d see you again. The circumstance wasn’t one I expected, but it’s really good to see you again.”
Layla’s lips parted, and her expression softened.
“What circumstance would you have preferred?”
“One that would have allowed me to ask you out.” Surprised by his honesty, Layla didn’t reply right away, giving him time to add, “But that’s dead. From this point forward, it’s all about you and Dior professionally. You have my word.”
Her stomach clenched, and she placed her hand over it.
She wanted to smile and nod…
approve of his control and detachment…
but a part of her wished that wasn’t his choice.
Though that was what she needed, Layla couldn’t deny the disappointment over that not being what she wanted.
Sure this was for the best, she nodded, heart filling with gratitude over the start of what she was sure would be things getting better for both her and Dior.