I'm Not Your Mentor - 11. Chapter 11: Meet my sister

11. Lead by example

It’s one thing to tell someone what they should do, but if you don’t follow your own advice, are others going to listen to you? People learn more from what they see you do and how you act than they will from what you tell them to do.

— Employee Handbook: Mentoring

Everyone fantasizes about an ex-boyfriend asking to be taken back. At least, I think they do. I just hadn’t imagined it happening after I’d found someone better. Or maybe I had hoped that John would ask to be taken back, but only so I could rub his nose in it.

The problem with John’s visit was that I didn’t know what it was about. Had he come to ask me to take him back? To apologize? Or was it something else? I had no idea, which was frustrating.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, while John was clearly upset about finding Jonah at my place, Jonah was even more upset by the visit.

Having seen John off, I returned to the house to receive a very frosty reception from Jonah, who demanded to know why John had stopped by.

“He wouldn’t say,” I shrugged. Jonah was pissed, but it wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t invited John!

“Are you going back to him?” Jonah pouted. I don’t think it was his intention, but he looked damned sexy when he did that.

I walked up to Jonah, put my arms around him, leaned down, and gently pulled his head back with one hand. We kissed, our mouths melding together. I reached down and tugged on the drawstring of his sweatpants with my free hand. With one pull, they dropped to his ankles.

“Why would I ever want to do that?” I whispered.

“Because you don’t really love me,” he said bitterly.

My hand, which had been reaching towards his cock, froze. Oh great. I was obviously in hot water, and giving Jonah a quick feel may not be the best thing to do at that moment. Instead, I put my hand on the side of his waist and began to rub the soft, smooth skin gently.

“I love you,” I said.

“No, you don’t. You never say it,” he said, the pout back.

“No, I…” and I thought for a moment. Jonah was right; I hadn’t been saying it to him, even though he had said it a few times to me. “That’s stupid of me. I’m sorry,” I said, and I kissed him. “Because I do love you.”

“You just like fucking me,” Jonah said, and I realized he was furious.

“Yeah, I do,” I admitted. “But I love hanging out and talking to you even more,” I said. “And I’m not going back to John.”

“You keep telling me we shouldn’t date. That I’m too young.”

I sighed inside. Didn’t Jonah realize how much he meant to me? That he was living with me? That I just wanted to be with him? To do things with him? But he was right. I hadn’t verbalized it, even though I’d even been thinking about things like marriage. Clearly, he needed to know what I had been thinking.

“What do you think we’ve been doing for the past weeks?” I asked him.

“You’ve been fucking me,” he said.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to think. It was clear what Jonah wanted, but was I able to give it to him?

“I thought it was much more than fucking,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

“So, we’re boyfriends?” Jonah said, and he smiled triumphantly as if he had caught me in a trap. I either had to acknowledge that he was my boyfriend, or we were going to have a big fight, and I wasn’t sure that he might not leave me.

And honestly, it was just a label. I had been thinking in my head that we were still dating, but Jonah had been living with me for the past few weeks and showed no sign of going back to his apartment. He was using the previously empty side of the master bathroom. He had a dresser and a closet full of clothes, keys to the doors, and knew the code for the security system. We shopped together, made dinner together, and spent evenings together. Never mind the term boyfriend; we were much more than that.

In many ways, we were a closer couple than John, and I had ever been.

Maybe I was selling John short. Maybe in those first couple of years, we had been as close as Jonah and I were, but even ignoring all the bad times, I didn’t think so.

“Of course we’re boyfriends,” I said, and I leaned in and kissed Jonah, a long, slow, lingering kiss.

When we separated, Jonah grinned impishly.

“See, that wasn’t hard,” he said, and I couldn’t help smiling at him. Jonah hugged me closer, and I realized that things were okay. And with that knowledge, I knew it was safe to run my hand down to his erection. I felt the wetness at its tip, and I squeezed him gently, feeling him shiver.

“I think it’s you that stays here just because you like the sex,” I said.

“No,” he said. “It’s because I love you, and I love being with you.”

I kissed him.

“I feel the same way,” I said. “I love you, and I love being with you, and it’s not just the sex, though I love that as well.”

Jonah grinned and kissed me.

“Are we going to cook dinner?” he asked me.

“No,” I said. “I’m taking you upstairs, and you can pick out a new ceiling color,” and Jonah laughed.

From then on, ‘picking ceiling colors’ became our euphemism for sex. Particularly if we were out in public.

But after a few minutes of intense making out, we did go and make dinner. And then we went upstairs and fucked each other's brains out.

The next morning I woke up before Jonah. I spent several minutes happily lying there, watching him sleep. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Jonah started to stir, and I gently brushed some of his hair that lay tangled on his forehead. He opened his eyes and smiled at me.

“Hi,” Jonah half mumbled.

“Hey sleepyhead,” I said, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “I love you,” I whispered in his ear, and then I kissed him on the mouth—just a quick kiss.

Jonah looked at me a little suspiciously.

“What do you feel like for breakfast?” I asked.

Jonah shrugged.

“Maybe, waffles?” Jonah said tentatively.

“If you’re making them, sure,” I said, getting out of bed. I walked to the bathroom, paused, and looked back at him. “Come on, boyfriend, time to get up,” and I went in to start the shower.

I’d barely got the water running by the time Jonah padded in, wearing nothing but a smile and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Jonah yawned.

“Are you going to call me that all the time now?” he asked.

“Call you what?”

“Boyfriend.”

I walked up to him and embraced him.

“Yep, because you are, and because I love you,” and I kissed him.

“Okay, you don’t have to go overboard,” he said.

I squeezed him in my arms.

“Okay, sweetheart,” I said, kissing him again.

Suddenly, telling Jonah I loved him, calling him boyfriend and sweetheart, was all I wanted to do. It made me feel happy and very lucky. Jonah may not have realized it, but he’d created his own monster because now I realized how much I truly loved him.

Jonah grumbled something as I gently pushed him into the shower and under the warm running water. Inside, I pulled him tightly to me as the two of us stood under the shower-head. Then I grabbed the shampoo and started massaging his head, the soap streaming down his body.

And as we stood under the shower, his slick body sliding against mine, I pulled him into a tight hug and realized how much he meant to me.

I was never going to let him go.

“I love you,” I whispered to him.

Mayer-Martin’s offices are located in an office park just north of Boston. We occupy three buildings in the office park, and two of the buildings have cafeterias. Most of IS is housed in the largest of the three buildings, which has the largest cafe. When I say large, it only has twenty tables.

Many people—myself included—buy lunch at the cafeteria but then eat at their desk or sit outside on a nice day. Sometimes after lunch, I’ll go for a walk through the surrounding streets. There’s a town center you can walk to if you’re ambitious. In the warmer weather, it’s nice to take a break and get some exercise.

It was a lovely mid-week day, and I’d decided to go for a walk.

“Hey,” called a voice, just as I came to the edge of the parking lot. I turned around and saw Jonah walking briskly towards me.

“Hi,” I said, puzzled why he might be following me. Jonah worked on a different floor that I rarely had cause to visit. In the time he’d been working at the company, I’d seen him once in an elevator and once in the cafeteria. We’d both avoided acknowledging the other.

“Going for a walk?” Jonah asked me.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Can I join you?” he asked. He looked uncertain, clearly wondering if I’d blow him off or tell him we shouldn’t.

I thought about it for a minute. I was concerned that if someone saw us together, they might think it was odd. They might start wondering about us. But was there really any harm?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Jonah said before I could reply, stepping back, about to turn around. His reaction to my delay in answering forced my decision.

“No, it's okay,” I said.

“You’re sure?” he said, turning back.

“Yes,” I nodded reassuringly.

Jonah smiled and then stepped up beside me, and I turned and started walking again.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Just up a few blocks and then back,” I said.

“You’re not going to the store?”

“No, it’s an attempt to get some exercise. Why? Did you need something?”

“You get plenty of exercise,” Jonah said, giving me a sideways glance. “And I was just curious.”

“It’s a nice day,” I said, and he nodded. “How’s your day going?” I asked.

“Uhh,” he exhaled slowly, a soft expulsion of air that almost sounded like he was in pain. It didn’t sound like a happy sound.

“How’re things in the department? Are they better?” I asked him.

“Hard to tell. Things are still…weird,” he said.

“They giving you any trouble?”

Jonah looked pensive.

“No,” he finally said.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re sure,” I pointed out.

“It’s okay,” he said.

I sighed. On the one hand, our relationship made it difficult for me to intervene in his problems. On the other hand, if I was aware of something serious going on, I had to intervene as an officer of the company. It all depended on what the issue was.

“Tell me,” I prompted.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a bad day. I was wondering. What do you want to have for dinner? It looks like a nice evening. Can we barbecue?”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “Smooth topic change,” I pointed out.

“Thanks,” Jonah grinned. “You liked that?”

“Very impressive,” I said, stopping. Jonah paused and turned to face me, his face curious. “So, what’s been going on?” I asked him.

Jonah frowned and then shrugged.

“You don’t want to tell me?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” he said earnestly.

I stood there for a second, but he showed no sign of changing his mind.

“Okay,” I said and started walking again, and Jonah fell in beside me again.

“What do you want to barbecue?” I asked.

“Hamburgers?”

“We have buns and tomato and lettuce. But I don’t think we have any ground beef.”

“I can stop in at the supermarket on the way home,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I’ll get some fries too.”

“Fries?” I said. “We have potatoes. I’ll make some.”

Jonah made a face.

“What?”

“I like regular fries. Can’t we get some of those for a change?”

“Your waistline,” I said.

Jonah pouted.

“If you want, sure.” I relented. “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I wait until we get home?”

Jonah sighed.

“Can’t you just leave it?” he asked.

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too… Just tell me what’s going on. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“You told me that last time.”

“Yeah, I know. The thing is, I’m an officer of the company. So if you tell me something egregious, I have to do something.”

“Egregious?” Jonah repeated, and I suspected he was teasing.

“It means beyond…”

“I know what it means,” he interrupted, grinning at me.

“Let me put it this way,” I continued. “I’ll let you know what I’m going to do…” I could see Jonah about to object, and I raised my hands. “Look, I might not do anything,” I tried to reassure him. “I mean, if it’s just a co-worker being a jerk, I’d tell you to handle it yourself.”

“Huh,” he exclaimed. There was a pause, and then he added, “So, what would your advice be?”

“What?”

“If a co-worker is being a jerk.”

“Is that the problem?” I asked.

Jonah didn’t answer.

“Well,” I continued. “It depends on what’s going on. Is the person just a jerk to everyone, or are they specifically targeting you? And if they are targeting you, then what are they doing?”

“I don’t want to…”

“…Let's say someone was playing loud music. The first thing would be to try and politely ask them to turn it down. You might say, ‘hey, do you have a minute? I don’t know if you’re aware, but your music is loud, and it makes it difficult for some of us to concentrate. Would it be possible to turn it down a little, or for you to use headphones?”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then you go to your manager.”

“And you do, and nothing happens?’

“You have?” I asked him, surprised.

Jonah reddened.

“Just hypothetically speaking,” he said.

“Well, it depends what it is. One thing, even if you already spoke to them, I would write your manager an email, outlining the issue and anything that's happened.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re creating a formal record of the issue. If a manager had any sense, that may—depending upon the issue—make them reconsider what they have done.”

“Then what?”

“Well, then you should probably go to HR.”

“What about their manager?”

“Your manager’s manager?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I think it depends on what you think they will do. In some ways, HR might be better, but…manager jumping can be dicey. Sometimes it’s better to get an outside party involved…HR.” Jonah was frowning, so I continued. “Ultimately, it’s up to you.”

“Okay,” he said thoughtfully. “Should I get ground turkey?”

“What do you like?” I asked.

Jonah shrugged again.

“I don’t care,” he smiled.

We kept walking, and Jonah talked about a project he was working on that he was excited about. When we arrived back at the parking lot, Jonah said he had a meeting he had to get to and trotted ahead of me. I wondered if he was doing it for my benefit so that we weren't seen entering the building together.

That evening the sun was still lingering late the afternoon sky, but the days were getting shorter. Before too long, we’d be dealing with the onset of fall.

Jonah and I were enjoying the days as much as we could. We often spent lazy evenings in the screened-in porch next to the pool. Jonah had forgotten to get the ground beef and fries, and we were trying to come up with an alternative.

“What do you feel like for dinner?” I asked him.

“Pizza?” he asked brightly, his go-to default.

“You can’t eat pizza every night,” I admonished him.

“Yes, mom,” he said sardonically.

“How about salmon?” I suggested. I had some fresh salmon that we had to eat tonight or tomorrow night.

Jonah frowned.

“We can make fries and coleslaw,” I tried to tempt him, though I wasn’t sure if that was utterly negating the healthiness of the salmon. Oh well, you do the best you can.

“Okay,” he said, brightening.

“Come on then, you can peel the potatoes,” I said, and we went into the kitchen and worked on the dinner together.

I’d just put the potatoes in the oven when Jonah leaned over and asked.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“I think I saw a car in the driveway.”

“Really?” I said, trying to look through the living room window, but unable to see much of the driveway. A car could easily have driven past and parked closer to the house.

I wiped my hands and was just about to go and take a look when the doorbell rang.

I glanced at Jonah, who gave me a self-satisfied grin.

“I guess we have a visitor,” I said, and he nodded at me.

“Just as long as it isn’t your old boyfriend,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, but I went to the front door and opened it slowly, secretly thinking the same thing.

“You are here!” said a tall thin woman with long red hair.

My sister.

“Andrea? What are you doing here?”

“Hang on,” she said. “I just have to tell my Uber driver it’s okay,” and she turned and hurried down to talk to the driver of the car that was idling near the front steps.

The driver jumped out and helped her get a suitcase out of the trunk of the car.

“Who’s that?” Jonah called from the hallway.

I turned to face him.

“It’s my sister. I think she’s visiting,” I said.

“Oh,” said Jonah, and he didn’t move to come to the front door. Before I had a chance to ask him to, my sister was saying something behind me.

“…and I called and texted you a couple of times,” she was saying as I turned to face her. “But you didn’t answer, so I thought you might be away.”

“No, I’m here,” I said. “I just had the ringer off.”

“How can you do that?” she asked, coming up to me and putting the suitcase down.

I glanced at the suitcase.

“Sorry,” said Andrea. “Is it okay if I stay a few days? My friend Carol was in a car accident, and I’ve come down to help as best I can.”

“A car accident?”

“Yes. She’s been in the hospital for almost a week.”

“Oh, she’s going to be alright?” I asked, adding, “Come in, yeah, it’s okay.”

Andrea picked up her bag before I could grab it and walked inside as I closed the door.

“Oh yeah. I think so. She’s supposed to be released tomorrow, and I’m just going to be there for the first few days to try and help.” Andrea put her bag down again and then looked around before continuing. “It was all rather last minute. She kept saying she didn’t need any help, and then…well, I think she realized how she wasn’t going to be 100% when they released her, so here I am. I tried calling you.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “You’re welcome any time. Are you hungry? We were just making dinner.”

“Yes, I’m….,” and then Andrea paused and looked at me questioningly, adding softly, “we?”

She knew I had broken up with John, so I could imagine what she might be thinking.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll introduce you to Jonah. You can leave your bag here for the moment,” I said, and I led her into the kitchen.

Which was empty. There was no sign of Jonah.

“Jonah?” said my sister, looking puzzled.

“Um, well, he was here a moment ago,” I explained.

“What is Jonah?” asked Andrea. “A dog?”

“No! No, he’s human, and he was just in here…”

I heard feet on the stairs, and I pointed at the stairwell.

“Here he comes.”

Jonah appeared at the bottom of the stairs, no longer wearing the swimsuit and t-shirt. He was dressed in business casual, the way he dressed for work.

Jonah stopped in his tracks and stood there, looking a little nervous.

“Jonah, this is my sister Andrea. Andrea, Jonah,” I said.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Jonah awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you,” said Andrea, clearly still puzzled. This was getting interesting.

Jonah turned towards me.

“I’m going to get going,” he said. “Thanks for the help with the report.”

“You’re going?” I said, realizing Jonah was trying to make it appear that we weren’t in a relationship and that he’d been here working. “We’re going to have dinner?” I added, which was sort of playing along with his attempt to make it look like we weren’t involved.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted to play that game; I hadn’t yet figured out in my head how to handle this. I hadn’t expected to introduce Jonah to my sister so soon, or like this.

“That’s okay,” said Jonah.

“Oh, don’t go on my account. Please stay,” said Andrea.

“I should get going,” he said, and Jonah started to move towards the front door.

to be continued…