Page 15 of The Tides Between Us

“I need to get a shirt from my car,” I explained to her, motioning over to where my Jeep was. I had a clean t-shirt I threw in there this morning. I let go of her wrist and she waited for me as I jogged over and grabbed my shirt.

When I returned, Giana had her phone out with a message already typed out for me.

Giana

Where did you want to go to eat?

“Have you ever been to Rads by the Sea? They have a great breakfast menu.”

She nodded, erased her message, and typed a new one before handing the phone back to me. Our fingers brushed against one another’s and I felt the spark of electricity run up my forearms.

Giana

I’ve been there before, but only for dinner.

“Well, allow me to introduce you to their amazing breakfast options.”

She smiled brightly and her shoulders shook as she laughed silently. My ears craved to hear something from her, but it was something I would never ask of her. I wanted to know whatever Giana wanted me to know. I would never ask her anything that would be too invasive unless she opened the door for that.

She motioned for us to walk down the street and I easily fell into step beside her.

I was following her lead. I would go wherever the tides between us decided to take us.

It was a short walk, only about three minutes, before we were standing out in front of the restaurant. It was situated just along the beach. It was built up on a hill and the seating area was on the second floor which allowed you to look out over the ocean. It was one of my favorite places to come to when I was in Orchid City.

The silence between us was comfortable. She paused for a moment and I pulled the door open for her, allowing her to go in before me. I followed after her as she began to climb the stairs in front of us. We reached the second floor and stepped up to the hostess desk where a young man greeted the two of us.

Giana smiled and glanced to me with a nervous look in her eyes. She never once reached for a notepad while we were on the beach. She was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of black cotton shorts. The only thing she had with her was her phone.

“Just the two of you?” the guy said as he grabbed two menus.

I nodded. “Can we sit outside? Somewhere where we can see the ocean.”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed and began to lead the way.

I caught Giana’s eye once more. “Don’t worry about it. I got you.”

I didn’t miss the wave of relief that washed through her eyes and the way her body visibly relaxed. It struck a nerve inside of me. Guilt flooded me in an instant. I had thought about our communication barrier and how we worked around it, but I never once considered how hard day-to-day life must have been for her.

Most people weren’t familiar with sign language. It must have been difficult trying to communicate with people around her, conforming to means of speaking that they understood, rather than the other way around. How many people went out of their way to accommodate Giana?

We were seated at a table that had a perfect view of the ocean. I followed Giana’s gaze out to the sea, watching a pod of dolphins popping out of the water every so often. I couldn’t stop my eyes as they trailed back to her face, and I watched her as she watched them. A soft smile pulled on the corners of her lips and her eyes squinted ever so slightly.

I leaned forward, my hand touching her forearm as I got her attention. Giana looked back to me, the same smile still on her lips.

“What do you want to drink? I can order when they come over.”

She nodded and pulled out her phone before typing something on it. She set it down on the table and slid it over to me. I picked it up and read the message.

Giana

I’ll have whatever you’re having.

I looked up and smiled at her, just as our server walked over to the table. She looked between the two of us, introducing herself and asking if we wanted to place our drink orders. Neither of us had looked at the menu, so I ordered each of us a glass of water and mimosas. I didn’t miss the way Giana raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t question me on it.

I slid the phone back to her. “Tell me your story.”

Her eyes were trained on mine, studying me for a beat. A sigh escaped her and she picked up the phone, as she began to type it out. Her sigh didn’t appear to be from annoyance, but it pained me nonetheless. I instantly felt like shit for asking her to do so. My dumb ass didn’t take into consideration that she was going to literally have to type out every single word.

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