Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Henry
I walked over to the bar and poured myself a scotch. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I saw I had a few text messages from Frankie.
“Hey, bro. How’s it going?”
“??”
“Did she kill you, man? Come on, text me back.”
“Everything is going good. She’s upstairs right now taking a bath.”
“So…is she pissed at me?”
“A little, but she said she’ll get over it eventually.”
“So, I’m assuming you got her to stay?”
“Yeah. She’s staying with me for the week. Separate bedrooms, of course. She made that very clear.”
“At least she’s staying. That’s all that matters, bro. Good luck, and I want all the details when you get back.”
“Thanks, Frankie. By the way, she told me about the guy on the plane. Thank you for having her back.”
“Any time, bro. She’s a friend, and I always have my friend’s back.”
I smiled as I placed my phone back in my pocket.
“How was your bath?” I signed when she walked into the living room.
“Wonderful.” She smiled.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“I can get it myself. It looks like the rain stopped.”
“Yeah. It did a few minutes ago.”
I followed her into the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of wine.
“This house must cost a fortune to rent out,” she spoke.
“It’s not cheap.” I smiled. “But as far as I’m concerned, it’s worth it. Do you want to go sit down in the living room?”
“Sure.” She nodded as she went and took a seat on the couch.
I refilled my glass and took a seat next to her.
“Tell me more about your family. You never talked about them.”
“And for good reason,” I signed with an arch in my brow. “You’ve already met my mother, and you don’t like her, which I can’t blame you for.”
“I can’t really say that because I don’t know her. But when she told me about you, it was as if she was enjoying every minute of it.”
“That’s her. She loves to wreak havoc in people’s lives and doesn’t care who she steps on to get what she wants, including me. I thought maybe after my father’s heart attack, he would realize that life’s too short to behave the way he does. But he’s still the same old Carlyle Walker he’s always been. He even told Addison, his own daughter, that if Abigail wouldn’t have died, she wouldn’t have been born.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Very serious,” I signed. He was supposed to start the transfer of ownership for the company, and I would take over in three months, but when Addison exposed Kirsten, he told me he was putting it on hold because he thought I wasn’t mentally prepared to take over due to the circumstances.”
“I’m sorry the baby isn’t yours,” she said.
“Are you kidding? I’m not the least bit sorry. Hearing those words come out of her mouth was the best thing I’d heard in a very long time. I didn’t want a child with her. I can’t stand her.”
“You were with her for three years, Henry.”
“For all the wrong reasons. Ben and Frankie tried to get me to break up with her for a long time, but I couldn’t because I was afraid of my parents, and I was afraid of letting them down.”
“And now?”
“They can rot in Hell for all I care.”
“They’re your parents, Henry.”
“What kind of parents threaten their children’s future if they don’t do exactly as they’re told? Even as adults. They’re trying to keep me away from you. My father said that hearing/deaf relationships can never work.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said.
“I don’t either, but it doesn’t matter. Because they believe it, so it’s true in their eyes. Everything with them is black and white. There are no shades of gray anywhere.”
“Would they have felt differently if Abigail was still alive and dating a hearing man?”
“I asked my father that, and he said Abigail wouldn’t be stupid enough to date a hearing man.”
“And he knows this how?” She cocked her head.
“It’s what he believes in his mind. Abigail was always perfect in his eyes. That’s why they don’t want me to see you. And I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you so you know I am nothing like them.”
“Why? I don’t understand.”
“I think the main reason is because you’re a reminder of what they lost. I remember being at the store with my mother when I was younger, and I saw this man signing to one of the sales associates. He didn’t speak, and she couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell her. So, I walked over and interpreted for him. My mother grabbed my arm and dragged me away. She told me I was never allowed to talk to another deaf person again, especially in public, and I was never allowed to use sign language.”
“That’s awful!”
“Did my mother use sign language when she spoke at the café?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Interesting.” I narrowed my eyes. “Can I pour you some more wine?” I pointed to her empty glass.
“No thanks.” She let out a long yawn. “I’m tired as it is. Actually, I think I’m going to head to bed.”
“You’ve had a long day. Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning. By the way, the remote control for the blinds is sitting on the nightstand.”
She gave me a smile as she got up from the couch.
“Good night, Henry.”
“Good night, Ellie. Sweet dreams.”
I watched her walk up the stairs, and then she was out of sight. Taking my scotch out to the deck, I leaned over the railing and stared out at the dark water, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.
Ellie
I climbed into bed, grabbed the remote for the blinds, pressed the button, and watched as they came down. A feeling of sadness rushed through me when Henry told me about his parents. I could tell he was ashamed, which explained why he never said too much about them.
I was exhausted, and my brain was tired from too much thinking. Plus, I was still on New York time and jetlagged. So, I closed my eyes and peacefully drifted to sleep.
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of something burning. Climbing out of bed, I went downstairs and saw Henry in the kitchen.
“What is that smell?” I asked as I walked over to him.
“Good morning. That would be me burning the pancakes.”
I cocked my head and gave him a smile.
“Why do you even try?” I asked.
“I wanted to make you breakfast, and I know pancakes are your favorite. Go sit down, I’ll make some new ones, and I promise not to burn them this time,” he signed.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you go sit down and let me make them?”
“But then I won’t be making breakfast for you,” he signed.
“I like to cook. You know that. So go.” I shooed him away.
“At least let me pour you a cup of coffee,” he said.
“I’d love some.”
After Henry gave me my coffee, he took a seat at the island and watched while I made another batch of pancake mix.
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Really good. You?”
“Good. I was thinking we could drive to Santa Monica today and check out the Pier. I think you’ll like it there.”
“Sounds fun. I’d like to go.”
“Okay. Then we’ll head out after breakfast,” he signed with a smile.
After I poured the batter into the pan, he walked over and stood next to me.
“Don’t you think you should turn the heat up? It looks too low,” he signed.
“That is why you burned the pancakes.” I pointed the spatula at him. “Go sit down. They’ll be ready soon.”
After they were done, I set them on a plate, grabbed a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator, and drew a smiley face.
“There you go.” I set the plate down in front of him.
“That’s great, Ellie. Thank you,” he signed with a grin.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for attempting to make me breakfast.”
“Next time, I won’t burn them. I promise.”
“We’ll see.” I laughed.
Suddenly, my phone lit up with a text message from my mom. Picking it up from the counter, I read it.
“Hi, honey. How’s Malibu going so far?”
“It’s beautiful here.”
“And the art dealer guy? What did he want to talk to you about?”
Shit. I didn’t know what to tell her. I hated lying to her, but she wouldn’t understand.
“He’s interested in my work and would like to purchase some paintings.”
“I don’t understand why he flew you out there.”
“He likes to meet the artist first.”
“Is he a nice guy?”
I glanced at Henry and bit down on my bottom lip as he gave me a smile.
“Yeah. He is.”
“And Frankie is there with you?”
“Yes, Mom. Everything is fine. I have to go. We’re going to breakfast now. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Have fun. You know how I worry.”
“I know. But please don’t.”
“Let me guess, your mom?” Henry signed.
“Of course. She’s all worried about me being here with a strange art dealer.”
“Did you tell her it was me who flew you out here?”
“No. I’ll tell her when I get back. She wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m sure she hates me,” he signed.
“I wouldn’t call it hate.” I grinned.