Page 17 of Quiet Beautiful Things

She waves and leaves.

Another fifteen minutes pass. Then another. When I teach her the sign for bed, she does the previous sign instead.Food. And when she does it over and over, it sinks in that she must be hungry.

I stand up and turn, then stop. Blake is standing in the doorway. How long has he been there?

He looks stunned. “Wow,” he says as I look at his lips—far longer than necessary.

I shrug as I feel heat cross my face. We’re staring at each other again. And butterflies dance in my tummy.

“She’s hungry,” I sign. I don’t expect him to understand the sign for hungry, so I point to Maisy and then rub circles on my stomach.

He nods, indicating he understands, and says, “She’s hungry,” before he motions to the kitchen.

We follow him down the hall, and when Maisy pops up onto a barstool and looks at us expectantly, I pull out my phone and open the notepad app.

It’s best to give her choices, I type.Do you have two things to offer?

He nods, opens the refrigerator, and pulls something out. Then he disappears into the panty for a moment. Walking overto Maisy, he holds up a box of macaroni and cheese in one hand and one of those Lunchables in another. He does a great job with his facial expressions as he looks from one to the other and then back at her, eyebrows raised.

Shyly, Maisy looks over at me then points to the Lunchable as if asking my permission, not Blake’s.

He sets her choice down on the bar and peels back the cellophane. Then, he puts the box of mac and cheese away and grabs a cup of applesauce and a spoon, setting those down in front of her too.

I type into my app,It would be better if we could text. I open my contacts and hand him my phone. He promptly enters his name and number and hands it back. I tap out a text.

Me: Maisy is quite intelligent and very eager to learn.

He reads it on his phone and looks up in surprise.

Me: Don’t look so surprised. Deaf are just as intelligent as the hearing. Some of us have even tested at the genius level.

His face cracks into a sexy half smile.

Blake: I figured as much. I mean you are a doctor. Where did you go to medical school?

Me: I’m not that kind of doctor. I have my PhD in Critical Studies in the Education of Deaf Learners.

Blake: Ahh. That explains the long acronym on your business card that I didn’t understand.

I laugh silently.

Blake: How can you tell she’s intelligent after spending so little time with her?

Me: You don’t have to text me if you don’t want to. I read lips very well. I’ll tell you if I need help deciphering your words. Maisy has already begun to understand a few signs. We started with simple objects. House. Cat. Book. Things like that.

I pull out my flashcards and show them to him.

Me: This will be a great teaching tool for both of you as you’ll be learning together. I’ll warn you now not to feel too inadequate if she picks it up faster than you do. Children are sponges.

He laughs.

There are very few times when I wish I could hear sound. It’s a silly thing to wish for, and I stopped long ago, but when I see his eyes sparkle, his chest shake up and down, and his mouth open—this is definitely one of those times.

“Tell me - - -” Blake says, speaking too slowly. “I want to help her learn. I want to learn - - -”

I didn’t pick up everything he said. He’s over-enunciating, something everyone tends to do at first.

Me: Please don’t speak too slowly or over-enunciate. Just look directly at me and speak in your regular manner.

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