Page 42 of When You Left Me Speechless

I don’t answer him.

“You think the jukebox works?” he asks, flashing me a playful grin.

“Huh?”

“The jukebox. Do you think it works?” He looks over at the bulky machine, glowing bright yellow and pink in the corner of the restaurant.

“I doubt it. I bet it’s just decoration.” He pops up from the table. “Wait, where are you going?” He smiles at me and winks.

He leans on the jukebox with one hand, causing his bicep muscles to strain against his T-shirt, and I take the opportunity to admire how good-looking this man is. Looking back over at me, he gives me a thumbs up as if to say it does in fact, work, which makes me giggle. There is something so endearing about him. He’s a little nerdy and goofy, and I like it. He makes it easy for me to be myself, which is something I’m not used to in a relationship. I always felt like I had to be a certain way for Beau, like we were constantly performing and trying to impress everyone around us. I watch as he flips through the music. He inserts a couple of coins and presses the buttons to select a song. He walks back over to me with a cocky but charming smile across his face, like he is extremely proud of the song he found.

The Macarena starts to play over the speakers, and he begins to dance as he walks toward me.

“Interesting choice,” I laugh.

He continues to dance at the side of our table. “I thought you would like it.”

My mind drifts back to the first night we met and how awful he was at dancing to this song in particular. I can’t help but laugh harder, and I realize I like it when Logan makes me laugh.I like it way more than I should.

Judy returns with our food, interrupting his little dance, and sets it on the table.

“So, what made you want to be a speech therapist?” he asks, sitting down and popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“I always knew I wanted to help people. It’s somethingmy dad instilled in both my sister, Olive, and me from the time we were little. Olive is a speech therapist, and I’ve always looked up to her. A few years ago, my grandmother was hospitalized after a stroke and lost the ability to talk and swallow.”

He nods. “That must have been hard.”

“Yeah, my family does holidays really big, and I remember my grandmother crying because she was going to have to eat pureed turkey at Thanksgiving. My sister was getting her master’s in speech and was able to help my mom and grandma understand what was happening. The hospital's speech therapist helped her participate in family dinners again, and it was so cool to watch her relearn the skills she had lost.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Swallow?” he asks, confused. “I didn’t know speech therapists could help people swallow?”

“Oh yeah, swallowing is my favorite. I want to specialize in it.”

His lips turn into a sly grin, “Oh, is that so? I’ll have to remember it’s your favorite.” He leans back in the booth, looking me up and down.

I can feel my face turn bright pink with a rush of heat, and I bite the inside of my cheek. “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant swallowing therapy is my favorite. I love helping people to be able to eat their favorite foods again.”

“That’s cool. So I’m guessing your plan is not to work in a school once you graduate?” He pops another tater tot into his mouth.

“Oh no, that isn’t my plan. I’ve definitely always wanted to work with adults. I mean, don’t get me wrong, kiddos are fun and all, but my passion has always been adults. I actually accepted a position at Dogwood Manor that starts this summer.”

“That’s a bummer. I know I—” His cheeks blush, and hiseyes dart down to his plate. “I mean, Beth, will miss having you around.”

I try to ignore what he said, but as much as I want to push it out of my head, I can’t.

“Oh, um, so anyway, I love the challenge it brings. Never knowing what will happen. Really having to use my brain to help someone talk or swallow again after a stroke. It seems like such a rewarding career getting to help people like that.”

“That’s incredible. So, once you are done at Pecan Grove, you’ll be an official speech therapist and can do that?”

“No, I wish.” I laugh. “I passed the Praxis exam in March, but I take my comprehensive exams the week after I’m done at Pecan Grove. If I pass those I can finally graduate and then I’ll have to apply for my license. I’m excited to be so close to being done. I worked hard to get where I am and it feels like a long time coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“I took a few years off after high school.”

“Why?”

I’m not sure if I want to tell him the truth. I hear another loud clash of thunder and realize we aren’t going anywhere for a while. I take a deep breath.

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