Page 53 of Lust in Translation

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“Oh, so I’m allowed to be in this conversation now,” I deadpan, raising a brow.

She scowls, her hands shake as she signs, “You think I care about manners right now? I’ve been lied to.”

“You are successful at your career here and you have me as a friend. Or, had me as a friend. You stopped coming by so I’m not sure where we stand on that front.”

“You are impossible to be around, Leo!” Kendall breathes furiously. Margaret leaves the office, her eyes wide and her shoulders slouched. She closes the door behind her. “You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I thought whatever there is between us might be enough to knock some sense in you. It was my last good hand to play. You told me to get out.” Thankfully, she’s slowed down her hands a bit. Probably because she sees me staring at them so hard they might fall off. “And because you’re such an asshole, you decided to teach yourself. You don’t want me. Now it’s blatantly clear.”

“Quite the contrary,” I say. “I taught myself because I didn’t want to burden you with any more of my fucking drama.”

“I want your drama. I know you’re deaf, but how in the world are you so blind, too?”

“That’s offensive, Sunshine,” I say, smirking. “Not PC at all.”

Kendall sighs and looks to the ceiling. “I cannot believe you never told me about this.” As she signs, she waves her hand to the tablet sitting between us. “How could you lie to me?”

“It wasn’t really a lie.” It was. “I meant to tell you. Even planned on it during bog night, but everything got kind of screwy and we veered into Natalia, and then you were sad and I didn’t want you to be sad and mad. Then too much time had passed and you were upset about Adam, then the cat. Really there wasn’t any good time, and by that point we were friends and you were working through things with Adam.”

“And lusting after you every second of the day.” She licks her lips even as she shakes her head. “I can’t control it. It makes me irate. What is it about you that keeps drawing me back in?”

A conversation comes to mind. I was sweating bullets when Juliet asked me about soul mates. I was trying to feed her vague answers, but even then, the truth slipped in. I say, “When you have a person. Friend, girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever. Then life, by whatever means, gives that same person a purpose in your life. That makes a soul mate.”

Kendall’s face softens. “That’s what Adam said. The day we signed the paperwork, you know?”

My stomach flips. Why is she thinking about Adam? This is supposed to be about us. About our purpose. “I didn’t know. What did he say?”

She signs. “That whole dinner conversation about soul mates and he asked me what his purpose was in my life. I didn’t think much of it then. But when we divorced he said he was serving his purpose. He was making me happy by setting me free.” She swallows hard, recalling the painful memory. “I told him his purpose was to make me happy, remember? How awful of me.” She shakes her head. “At that point I couldn’t tell you the last time he’d made me happy. Signing those papers did make me happy. Because I knew what it meant.”

Running a hand through my hair, I try to keep my emotions in check. “What did it mean?”

“That I could finally accept when you looked at me the way you do and figure out what it meant. What it felt like to give in. How it would be to have what I’ve desired for so long. Imagine my surprise when you refused to let me act out my fantasy.” Kendall smiles when she signs the last word. “I’m not sure how to sign a different word. Figure you would get the meaning with that one.”

Her lips get easier and easier to read the more sign language I grasp. “I didn’t refuse anything. You gave me an ultimatum.”

“Was I so easy to discard though? That you wouldn’t learn sign language for me? When it would really only benefit you?”

“Preserving some semblance of my own person dictated that I do it on my own. Without your help. I’ve already dragged you into my messy life by being your friend. You were on the base that day because of me. You were in danger because of me.”

“Because you got me this job,” she signs, sneering. “That’s why I was on base that day?”

I growl out of frustration and scoot my chair closer. “By merely being your friend. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to be the man you have to teach a language to because he needs saving. I want to be your man, damn it. The one who is strong enough to save himself. You look at me like I’m less. Everyone does.” I shake my head. “Don’t deny it. You came over every single day after I was released from the hospital and the pity I saw was real.” My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I don’t take it out as I have a sneaking suspicion of who it may be.

Kendall’s gaze darts to my pocket and back to my face. Cell phones aren’t allowed in the building and she knows it. She licks her lips. “It was never pity. I felt guilty because I did this to you. If I wasn’t there, if I had followed your directions, you would hear me right now.”

This could go on and on. “You forgive me for not telling you about Margaret, then?” She tilts her head, irritated. “Have a bog night for me tonight. We can talk about things there. You’re insane if you think I fault you for the explosion. No one is responsible for that except the men who plotted against us. Who tried to kill us. The terrorists who used a weakness to cripple us when they thought they could win. They’ll never win.” I hang my head and swallow the grief down. I won’t be a part of that any longer, but I know my brothers won’t let them win. Standing, I take a moment to control my feelings. Walking to the copier, I pull off all of the forms and bring them back to the desk.

Kendall smells different. A new perfume, or a laundry soap. As I brush by her she enters all of my working senses and trips the wires. I grab a pen and begin signing my name to avoid the memory of our kiss and what it almost became. I scrawl my name over and over. Being in the military is like buying a house with multiple contracts. The paperwork for everything is endless. Separating from the Navy proves to be more of the same. Kendall puts her hand on my knee and I pause to look at her. “It’s going to be okay. You will figure it out. You’re not alone.”

“I know that,” I return. “What makes you think I don’t have it figured out already?”

“Your hand is shaking. This is a big deal,” she replies, and signs.

It is shaking. My hand. It doesn’t stop me from ignoring her sentiment and forging ahead. Kendall folds her fingers on my hand, demanding her full attention. I can’t not give her it.

“I’ll pick you up later today. At six. Bog night,” she says and signs.

The urge to decline her offer rises, but maybe she’s right and maybe I do need someone today. Fuck, I’m miserable. Not a desirable quality in the man I’m trying to be right now. It took weeks to work up the courage to schedule this appointment.

Turning back to one of the last pages that needs my signature, my hand scrawls across the page. Kendall just caught me in a lie that would send most women running for the hills. Even if the lie was serving to help her, I know how bad it looks. For that reason alone, I say, “I’ll be ready at six.”