“As a kid, I guess like everyone else. At the clubhouse? The guys would show up to watch the game and I’d clean up when they left. That’s it.”
Lola watched Mia take a dish from the oven. “Mia?”
She slid the hot dish onto a trivet on the island and looked up.
“You always cook this much for Thanksgiving?”
She shook her head and patted her chest. Then held up a finger.
“What? You spend the day alone?” Amber asked.
She nodded.
“What about your parents?” Lola asked.
Mia twisted her lips and pretended to drive a car.
“They traveled?”
She nodded.
“Husband? Boyfriend?” Amber questioned.
Mia once again shook her head.
Amber laughed. “Smart girl. Men are asses.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” Lola joked.
Amber laughed louder. “Oops.”
He glanced toward Mia and the sparkle in her eyes. “Mia, do you think I’m an ass?”
She bit her lips and looked away.
“Awe, come on.”
She turned back with her silent laugh he had come to enjoy.
She signed a few words then pointed to the food, to herself, and up.
“You can’t run out after you cook.”
She nodded.
He understood she was still uncomfortable around many people with her limited communication. As the months passed, she became a pro at signing. The women had picked up some of it also, but the men were still clueless.
“Someone has been busy,” London spoke as she entered the kitchen. She turned toward Rash when he appeared. “Set it right here. I’ll get everything sorted.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m here to serve.”
London only rolled her eyes at him and turned toward Mia.
Mia began signing and London leaned a hip against the counter watching.
“I don’t mind at all,” London replied. “I just didn’t plan for you to do it all alone. You’re not here to be a cook or housekeeper. You’re here to relax and prepare for your surgery.” London began to gather place settings to carry to the dining room when Mia stepped next to her, touching her arm.
London twisted and read her signs aloud. “I been thinking. I move out. Someone needs this more move in.”