Page 7 of Signed With Love

???

Dear Claire,

I'm not entirely sure how to start this letter, and I hope you don’t mind. I’ll start at the beginning because I'd like you to know me, and I’d get to know you better if you wrote me back.

I was born on January 27, 1989…wait, is that too early? I’ll speed it up a few years. I don’t remember those younger years anyway.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in the cockpit of a float plane. My mother was a bush pilot, and I always knew I’d follow in her footsteps. There isn’t a better or more exhilarating experience than flying for me. It is my life summed up entirely.

I just flew some goods from Kodiak to Mashing, and I’m so far north that it’s entirely undisturbed land. I’ll refuel and take the trip back home, where I’ll fly over lands that haven’t been seen by many before me.

Every day is a new adventure for me. A chance to explore the wilderness of the bush country. And when I’m not flying goods around, I’ll take tourists out to explore. Or if they get lost, I’ll lead the search and rescue party. My least favorite part of the job.

I hope this reaches you and that the month you’re home is good. Don’t worry about your parents…I found a new way to occupy your dad, and so your mom is happy too. He’s quite content, you’ll see.

Jamison

???

I stare at the envelope and letter in my hand. My fingertips are resting on my lips.

The couch shifts, so I glance to my left. Andrea, the Fine Arts teacher, gives me a smile and a small wave. She and I have been working here together the last couple of years since I returned to Alaska and took this teaching job.

You look like you’re about to explode, you’re so happy. What’s going on? she asks. She can hear some, like my old college friend Sean, but is fluent in American Sign Language, which is why she decided to teach here.

I press my lips into a thin line. Nope, doesn’t work. There’s no way I’ll lose this smile today. So, I show her the letter with a flick of my wrist. I won’t share what’s inside. That’s for my eyes only.

I want to see it. She reaches out her hand.

No.

Fine. Who’s the letter from?

A guy. I cringe from admitting that.

Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drops open. I don’t date much, and Andrea’s shocked expression isn’t surprising. She’s been telling me I need to take a risk and date. Go out more. I remember my failed attempts at dating in college, thanks to Maddie’s persistence, but find I’m more content staying at home wrapped up in a blanket and watching a movie than being dragged into public to get to know someone.

You’re writing a guy? Since when? Who is he?

Calm yourself. I laugh at the overly flourished signing from Andrea. She is my closest friend now, although I’m sure I’m not the same to her. We don’t hang out after work. We meet up sometimes, like today in the teachers’ lounge, or see each other between classes. But that’s the extent of our interactions.

I need details, she demands.

My head tilts back so I can compose myself. Where do I start explaining Jamison? It’s not like we are friends. I don’t know him. But he wants to know me. And that scares the shit out of me because he learned to sign just so he could be my friend.

When I glance back, Andrea is patiently waiting, her head propped on her hand. She bats her eyelashes.

A smirk lifts my lips. I can’t help it with her. His name is Jamison. He asked me on a friend date last weekend. He’s a pilot.

A hint of Old Spice and banana hits me, so I turn to my right in time to find Don Ratliff taking a spot on the couch. He hands over his extra muffin.

Once his hand is free, he signs, Did you have a good weekend?

I give him a smile and turn to Andrea when I catch her hands moving in my peripheral.

She met a guy. Andrea goes on, unaware that Don’s face has fallen. He recovers quickly and sends me a warm smile. I turn back to Andrea. They’re writing letters. He asked her on a friend date.

I take a bite of my muffin. The gooey bread melts in my mouth, yet it leaves a bad taste behind. I hate bananas, but I don’t have it in me to tell Don that because he bakes these muffins himself.

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