Page 60 of Quiet Beautiful Things

Me: Maisy and I met Krista Lancaster and her parents today. You know her from school, don’t you?

Ellie: I do. Krista is in third grade.

Me: She has cochlear implants. Her parents are both hearing, and they were encouraging me to get implants for Maisy. I know we haven’t talked about it much. What are your thoughts?

Ellie: I haven’t brought it up yet because I thought you needed time to talk to people, do your own research, and form your own opinions. I’m not here to tell you what to do.

“I’m not asking you to tell me what to do. I’m asking your opinion on them, El. How come you don’t have them? Are you opposed?”

Ellie: I’m not opposed. But I don’t push for them either. I’ve been well-educated on both sides of the argument. And both sides hold merit. It’s really up to the individual. As I said before, you’ll find widely polarized opinions on cochlear implants. I’d be lying if I told you there weren’t times in my childhood I longed to hear. When I was little, my mother chose not to get me the implants. When I got older, she left the decision to me. But before I could decide either way, the choice was made for me. When I was nine,I fell off my bike and hit my head pretty hard—and just an FYI here, many deaf and HOH have issues with vertigo and balance. When they did an MRI to check for brain damage, they found a pineal gland cyst on my brain. It’s benign and doesn’t cause me any issues, but I’m still monitored yearly by MRI to make sure nothing has changed. MRIs are contraindicated if you have the implants. There are ways around it, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble for something I wasn’t sure I wanted anyway.

“If you could though, would you get them?”

“Honestly?” she signs. “I don’t know.”

“Are you just saying that because you don’t want to influence me?”

She raises a non-convincing shoulder.

Ellie: The fact is some people will benefit from them, some won’t. But implants won’t FIX our hearing as some people have come to believe. They don’t work miracles. Even with the implants, the deaf have to learn to hear. Our brains have to be trained to process sound. And sometimes that just doesn’t happen. For some, the implants work exactly as intended. For others, the sound confuses their brains instead of enhancing their lives and they end up having them removed. It’s widely debated among the Deaf community. I’m not here to give you my opinion. I’m here to educate you so youcan do what you think is best for Maisy in your situation.

Me: You should be a politician, El. You’re really good at not answering direct questions.

Ellie: Just doing my job.

“I have one more question,” I sign. “When are we going dancing?”

She chews the inside of her cheek for a second. “A week from Friday?”

“Did you say a week?” I look outside, feeling all kinds of impatient. Maisy is busy doing signs to her stuffed cat, so I tug Ellie toward me. “I’ve missed you.”

Her gaze centers on my lips long after my words leave them. Then her hands come up between us and she signs, “You see me almost every day.”

“That’s not what I mean, and I think you know it.”

She glances outside, then back at me, then she grips my shoulders and pulls me away from the window. When she leans up on her toes and kisses me, I’m amused by how much I like this bold side of her.

My hands weave through her hair and settle on her neck, keeping her lips against mine. The fruity smell of her hair permeates through me. The taste of her lips reminds me of being in her bed last week. My growing erection tells me how hungry I am for more. It’s an urge I feel will never be satisfied. I could never get enough of her. When she’s not right in front of me, she’s still with me. In my head. My thoughts. My dreams. I’m fucking drunk on Ellie Stone and I have no desire to get sober.

The back door opens, and I pull away. Looking down at my tented pants, I quickly sit on the couch and pull a throw pillow over my lap.

Ellie laughs and I get out my phone.

Me: To be continued next Friday.

She licks her lips then smiles. It’s the purest smile I’ve seen on her face. And it tells me that just maybe, she’s a bit drunk on me too.

Chapter Twenty-two

22

Ellie

Beth texts me that she’s here and I buzz her up. It makes me a little uncomfortable when Sierra notices the high-end bottles of champagne Beth has brought with her.

We haven’t exactly talked about the disparity in our families’ economic status. Then again, if Sierra used a private investigator to find me, she might know everything.

Sierra and I have learned a lot about each other over the past few nights, sitting on my couch and texting until well after midnight. But one thing is clear, we dance around the subject of our father.

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