“No! you’re our brother, you belong with us! I don’t want to use you, if you think that’s all I wanted you here for then don’t come with me, but I wanted you to be my big brother and have my back and keep the creeps and dickheads at arm’s length. I’m sorry I let you think that I was using you, Ricky; I didn’t mean it that way at all. Please don’t be mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me, Oh God, Ricky, I’m sorry you thought that’s what I was doing, I wasn’t, cross my heart!”
When she put it that way, of course I couldn’t let her go alone and unprotected; if this was the way to start being a big brother, then so be it.
“Yeah, I get it, Yaz, and sorry, I thought…” I started, but she dimpled at me, she had a really beautiful smile and I couldn’t stop myself grinning back.
“Never mind all that, Ricky, just so you know I wasn’t using you! Just come along with me, you need to learn how to be a big brother; I want all those tarts and sluts to see my tall, handsome boyfriend, and we can watch them chew their own faces off with envy, and it will be all for nothing. You game, Big Brother?”
I had to grin.
“I’m game, little sister; let’s stick it to ’em!”
We bumped fists solemnly, and Yaz bounced up off the sofa and disappeared into the kitchen, then stuck her head back through the door.
“They’re going to hate me even more when I show up with you; I dunno if anyone’s ever said this to you before, but you, Ricky Davies, are gorgeous!”
One last dimpled grin and she was gone, while I sat there slightly bemused. Gorgeous? What did she even mean by that?
*****
Ayesha came into the room, walking slowly, she was obviously very tired and she leaned heavily on her walking cane.
“Did Yasmin tell you what she wants you to do for her?” she smiled, taking my hand as I helped her sit in her armchair. I grinned and nodded, there didn’t seem to be much else to say.
“She’s excited you’re here, you know, and she’s completely taken with the idea of a big brother. Just don’t let her push you around too much because of it. Yasmin is not pushy, and it’s not her nature to take advantage of people, but she has something about her, people like to do things for her, help her out, fall-in with her plans, and she lets them because she doesn’t like to say ‘no’, so watch out for that; It’s too easy to get carried away with her plans, just keep calm and watch her back.”
She patted my arm reassuringly.
“She won’t turn you into a doormat, that’s not her way, but she can easily convince you to do almost anything for her, and you’ll just think it’s your idea, so just make sure you rein her in a little. You’re the big brother now, and that means a lot more to than just being older than her; it’s part of your job to damp her down and keep her grounded now, think you can do that?”
I nodded at her words; a lot of what she’d said I’d already seen, but it didn’t make me wary of her; quite the opposite, in fact.
“When I first got here, after all the… shouting, and Shari being so… so angry with me, it was Yaz who tried to help me; she didn’t yell and shout, and get all angry and threatening; all she wanted to do was help me get home safely, to get me something to eat, to be friendly; she was… worried about me, and the look on her face when she realised I was hungry, I was always hungry, that I’d been hungry for so long it didn’t even register anymore… I don’t think I’ll never forget it. If I’m being honest, after everything she and Shari have done for me, I’d do whatever my… sisters want me to do. I’ve never had anyone care about me, I’ve never had anyone try and help me, and then you gave me a chance, but she made me welcome, even Shari helped me when I was so sick when she didn’t have to, and I don’t know how I can ever repay you, or Yaz, or her.”
Ayesha looked long and hard at me, her gaze searching, but not threatening; I think she was genuinely surprised at how quickly I’d fitted in with her daughters, my new sisters, but I wasn’t; Shari and Yasmin were genuinely good people, they actually cared about me in a real, family way, not an offhand, helping a casual stranger sort of way, and I could feel their sisterly concern for me radiating off them in waves. I think that was the point I realised I was starting to unconsciously adapt my behaviour and thinking to reflect what I felt was the Ricky they wanted to have around them.
Ayesha’s expression softened, and she reached out to gently pat my hand once more.
“Welcome to your family, Ricky Davies, I think you’ll do just fine.”
*****
Being part of this family came with complications I’d never considered; Yaz was a patient teacher, cluing me in on simple things like proper table manners, something I didn’t even knew existed. She kept me straight most of the time, even if I could sometimes see her struggling to hold back the laughter, while Shari went out of her way to not embarrass me, her corrections of my continual faux-pas’ tolerant rather than hectoring or condescending. Things like burping out loud, for instance; with no-one to tell me ‘no’, that was just how I’d grown up, and Shari gently telling me in private that doing that in company wasn’t good manners at all made me feel two inches tall, but it stuck; I may have been ignorant and uncouth, I don’t think I was stupid, and I realised this was one of the things people learned almost subconsciously as a consequence of being part of a family.
Other things, too, like scratching, or adjusting myself in public; again, a few words in private on etiquette and comportment from Shari and I soon stopped doing those things, and I quickly learned to check her or Yasmin’s expressions before doing anything: a slightly raised eyebrow meant ‘really?’, a fleeting twitch of the lips meant ‘yes’, and a slight squint and slightly pursed lips meant either ‘no’, ‘don’t you dare!’, or ‘absolutely not!’ depending on how pronounced they were. I learned as fast as I could in the next few weeks what normal people absorb gradually as a matter of course from the people around them, manners and behaviours that were ‘givens’ in a normal family, but my upbringing had been anything but normal, and I’d learned absolutely none of the social niceties.
Like dancing, for instance…
Yaz had decided that, as I was going to be posing as her loving, possessive, scary boyfriend, I had to dance with her to make sure those spotty simpletons (as she referred to them) kept their distance, and therein lay the problem. Dancing? I could barely clap my hands in time, I knew almost nothing of current pop music, and how the hell was I going to dance with her like a boyfriend when I didn’t even know how to behave in public? I think Yaz finally twigged the more I thought about this impending charade, the more uncomfortable and just plain scared I became; supposing it backfired and my ignorance made her a laughing-stock instead?
Shari came to my rescue and taught me how, if not to dance, then at least to shuffle around with a girl in my arms and not trip us both up. After several days of patiently leading me around, while her mother and sister watched with barely concealed grins on their faces, she told me we were done, now I could fake it like the rest of the guys had to, so it was time to dance with Yaz and get used to holding her like I was supposed to. I still had some major doubts and lingering misgivings, but I’d promised her, so we went for it.
Actually, it wasn’t that bad; Yaz was a good dancer, as far as I could tell, and she made me look a lot better than I was; even Shari applauded, commenting that she was right, Yaz was good for me, and of course, having an armful of very pretty girl wasn’t too bad either.
*****
The day of the prom eventually rolled around, and Shari trimmed and styled my hair, helped me coordinate socks, shirt, and suit, and pick out and knot my tie, and had me stand on a footstool so she could walk all the way around me to check on how I looked from all angles. I was a little nonplussed at all the attention, but she just grinned.
“Ricky, you’re my kid brother, and I want you to look good with our little sister; you look good, she looks good, that’s how it works. Just think of it as upholding the honour of the family, and relax and enjoy it; when Yasmin’s had enough of the game she’ll let me know, and I’ll come and get you, OK?”
I was still dubious about the whole thing, but then I saw Yaz, and all doubts vanished as I just gawped silently at her. She was dressed in a short, sequinned, figure-hugging, backless Teal-green dress that contrasted perfectly with her hair colour and pale, olive-tinged complexion, her long, flawless legs encased in nude stockings, and teetering, sparkly green high heels; with her hair in a bright, auburn-red cascade down her bare back to finish the look, she was absolutely stunning!