Page 71 of Quiet Beautiful Things

How lonely it must have been for her to live inside her head when she couldn’t even think in words.

Maisy pats the book a few times to get my attention. Of course she picked one about a cat. I think we must have about twenty of those now.

She becomes sleepy, yet there’s still a hint of a smile on her face. I hear Bolt purr and understand why. Just like the music in the car, Maisy must love the vibrations he produces when he’s happy. I look at the two of them, each a misfit of sorts. Not because of any limitations, but because they haven’t found their place in the world. Well, Bolt has found his. And I hope to God, Maisy has found hers.

It saddens me every time I think about the possibility that all of this could be a short-term thing. About Lucinda being released from rehab and wanting Maisy back. My only hope is that she’ll see how well-adjusted she’s become and not pursue custody. Maybe Maisy can live here permanently.

Would I be opposed to sharing custody if Lucida agreed to step up and meet Maisy’s needs? Yes, I think, looking down at my sleepy daughter, I sure as hell would be opposed. I want to be the one to read books to her. The one who takes her to school.The one who… eventually, will even walk her down the aisle someday.

I love her. I love her so goddamn much. I want to tell her. I know the sign. But she won’t understand the meaning. She’s smart, but she still has so much to learn. Emotions are hard to explain to a kid who has a limited vocabulary. But I long to tell her. Tell her I love her and that she’ll be safe here. That I’ll always be here for her. But until the words and the sign mean something to her, it would be pointless.

I look at the open door, remembering who’s waiting for me in the other room, and for a moment I wonder if Maisy is the only one I long to sign those words to.Jesus Christ—that thought just slammed into me like a ton of fucking bricks. Could I really be in love? It’s a ludicrous thought. We’ve only known each other a short time. We’ve only gone on one date.

But still, I feel it. Like I do with Maisy. I swear I can feel it all the way down into my soul.

I put the book away. Then, since Maisy is half asleep, I do something I’ve never done—I lean down and kiss her forehead. Her soft, smooth, small, amazing forehead. I linger for just a second so I don’t scare her. When I pull away, her eyes are open. She shifts Bolt to the side and leans into me, her hands snaking around my neck.

Maybe she’s still thanking me for the cat. Maybe she thinks that’s just what you do after someone kisses you. Or maybe… maybe she’s beginning to feel about me the way I feel about her.

“Goodnight,” I sign without speaking. Because right now, I’m fairly sure no words could get past the happy lump in my throat.

I turn off her light and watch from the doorway as she snuggles Bolt in what seems to be a very reciprocal hug. And for the first time, I know I can do this. I can be a good dad. I can even be the father she needs.

I’m ready.

~ ~ ~

After pulling myself together in my bathroom—because I’m trying to impress Ellie, not send her running from the overly-emotional manchild—I walk back out to the living room.

Something is definitely wrong. She’s staring blankly at her phone. She’s been way more reserved than she usually is. Distant. Yet it’s after seven o’clock and she’s still here. She never stays late. That’s got to mean something.

After a few long moments, she sees me standing in the room and sets her phone down. “You want to talk?” she asks.

“I don’t know the sign for what I want,” I say. I stride over, hover above her, and then lean down, trapping her on the couch with an arm on either side of her. “So I’ll just show you.”

My lips come down on hers. She’s hesitant, but then her mouth opens and she returns the kiss with fervor. I settle my body between her legs, my knees on the floor, and we kiss like this for a long time. I can’t ever remember a make-out sesh quite like this one. I sure as hell hope it’s the first of many.

I grip her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the couch until her good parts meet my good parts. She doesn’t seem to mind that I’m dry-humping her right here in my living room. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s enjoying it as much as I am.

I love the throaty mewls that come out of her. I wonder if she knows when she makes noise. A question that’s burned in my mind for a while finally percolates out of me. I lean back and look in her eyes. “Have you ever tried to speak?”

Her mouth becomes a thin line and she looks over at the wall. She’s irritated that I asked. I immediately get out my phone.

Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. I’m not even sure if it’s rude to ask. It’s just that there are all these amazing sexy sounds coming out of you. I wondered ifyou knew they were happening. The question just popped out.

She blushes.

Ellie: I can feel light vibrations. But I wasn’t aware the noises were audible. Sorry.

Me: Are you kidding? Don’t be sorry. Those noises turn me on big time.

She looks up at me as if I’m crazy. I gesture to the front of my pants, the outline of my erection clear. She blushes harder.

Ellie: I speak around my family. But that’s it.

Surprised that she speaks at all, my jaw goes slack. “Youtalk?”

Ellie: All deaf can learn to talk, Blake. It’s just a question of whether or not we choose to.

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