Page 29 of At Her Will

She had a blond ponytail, expressive eyes and even more expressive hands. She was signing to him. And he was signing back.

He wasn’t fluent, but he was learning. The girl giggled when he got it wrong and showed him the proper way to do the word he’d attempted. Then she gestured to the sky. Rev tilted his head, and they looked together before the girl said something and brought his attention back down to her.

That was when he saw Vera. He pointed toward her, and the girl turned. The teen mouthed awoo-hootaunt and Rev executed a mock swat at her head. She ducked, lips parted in laughter.

Vera started moving toward him. The flat sound of the laughter confirmed the girl had been born deaf, or lost her hearing before her speech skills developed. By the time Vera reached Rev, she’d run down the hill to rejoin her friends. Rev rose, an act of deference that pleased Vera. She took his outstretched hand in a squeeze that locked and held.

“I wanted to reissue my earlier invite to the club I frequent,” she told him. “And I wanted to do it in person.”

His gaze flickered but swept over her, warm and very welcoming, taking in her heels, sheer hose, fitted skirt and silk blouse. “You a really nice surprise, Mistress.”

Between them was the shimmering memory of when they’d last been together, skin to skin, him inside her body. She reminded herself Mavis might frown on her ravishing him against the shed. She’d totally understand, but she’d frown on it.

“You’re learning sign language?”

“Yeah. She spends some of her lunch period teaching me, and she brought me a few picture books so I could learn more when she’s not around.”

“Your idea or hers?”

“Some of both. Kids have a lot of ways of talking. I like learning them, because it help me know when something’s not right with them. Also gives her someone else who can understand her in the way that’s easiest for her. Most of her life is the harder way, though she handles it good. She can speak, so she can say the words as she signs them.”

Vera glanced at the sky. “What was she pointing at?”

“She said that yesterday, right before sunset, there was two layers of cloud, one above and one right below the sun. The sun looked like the eye of an alligator, and the bottom clouds were split, so it looked like his mouth.” He pointed to his eye, then made a gesture that looked like an alligator’s jaw clapping together, straight up and down. “That’s alligator.”

“Yes, it is.” She made the same sign back. “Our information systems and graphic design VP, Skye, is mute, so we’ve all learned. You saw her the other day. The one on the second level, with the spiky hair?”

“That good to know. I’ll have another couple teachers to help me learn more, and impress Debbie when I see her here. Skye isn’t deaf?”

“No. But she’s told us the same thing you just did. It’s nice to find people who can sign. She communicates with electronic voices for others.”

“That rare, a person being mute but not deaf. Something happen to her throat?” Rev gestured to the bench. “Will you sit with me?”

At her agreement, he ducked into the shed, returning with a clean towel. He laid it on the bench. “It not dirty, but it’s outdoors and you wearing nice clothes.” His gaze slid over her again. Today it was a purple skirt and green and purple striped blouse, with amethyst and silver jewelry.

It was a short bench, so their legs and hips touched when she sat down. She glanced down at her slim and delicate heel, aligned with his work shoe.

“They don’t know,” she said, returning to his question about Skye. “She was in a car accident with her father when she was very young. It was fatal for him, and they think it was a neurological injury of some sort.” Vera recalled the times their group had touched on that story, with care, when Skye wanted to talk about it. “She has this odd memory, that her father told her he was taking her voice with him to Heaven, to remember her by. She thinks he’d give it back if she asked, but she wants him to have it.”

Though Skye had never said it was a secret, it was one of those things Vera wouldn’t say casually to someone, but she didn’t feel like she was.

Rev gave her a solemn look. “She loved her daddy. It makes her still feel connected to him.”

“Yes. Skye also feels she’s lucky, because learning to talk a whole different way is a lot easier when you’re a child than when you’re an adult.”

“Yeah. Debbie was born deaf. It was harder for her to learn how to talk with her vocal cords, not being able to hear the sounds she was making, but her parents wanted her to know how to do both things.”

“Smart parents.” Vera considered if she was about to put her foot into something she shouldn’t, but decided to go there anyway. “Have you ever thought of going back to school? Formally?”

“Why you ask?” His expression remained open, but she detected a guarded tone.

It was a legitimate question. Was she asking for herself? Or for him? Could it be for both?

“You like learning. There are opportunities that come with more formal education. Just looking at these kids, we all know that. Why not for adults, too?”

“I never been moved in that direction, Veracity. But maybe one day I will be. I respect your opinion and will keep it in mind.” He fished in his lunch tote and brought out a package of Oreo Cakesters. “Want half?”

The switch from odd formality to the offer made her blink. Noting it, he smiled. “Be easy with it, Mistress. You didn’t offend me. Just made me think. I liked visiting your office. I like the dancing woman statue in your gardens.”

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