Chapter 4 #2
“It’s your heart that determines where your home is,” Grace said. “And you belong here.”
Here and not with him.
They ran into Sarah Chambers at a booth displaying locally made quilts. She was bent over, looking at one with a heart pattern.
“Sarah, hi,” Mauve said.
Sarah straightened, smiling. “Hey there.”
“Is Ollie with you?” Mauve asked.
“No, I left both the kids home with my husband so I could shop in peace. I needed a break.”
“Is everything okay?” Mauve asked. “Ollie seemed a little off today.”
Sarah nodded, her eyes clouding over. “He had a bad day at school. The music teacher’s putting on a concert with the first through third graders at the community church.
Some kind of fundraiser. She told Ollie he had to stand with the others and to either pretend like he was singing or just stand there. ”
Beside him, Mauve stiffened. “Why would she do that to him?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been debating all afternoon about what to do about it,” Sarah said. “He’s a stoic little guy most of the time, but this one hurt.”
“I understand,” Mauve said. “I knew something was wrong today. He seemed defeated.”
Poor little guy, Jason thought, remembering moments of humiliation from his own childhood. No one wanted a stutterer in the school choir.
“I’m so angry at Mrs. Jones,” Sarah said. “For a music teacher, it’s insensitive and callous. We’ve had such a good experience at the school, but this makes me wonder if I should home school him. Maybe that would be better for him. I’m at a loss as to what to do.”
“I’m sorry,” Mauve said. “I would feel the same way.”
“I had a teacher do something similar,” Jason said. “She told me a stutterer would be too distracting for the school play and gave me a part of a tree. I was the only kid without lines.”
“And look at you now,” Sarah said.
“Right. I know it’s hard, but try not to lose hope,” Jason said.
“Ben said it’s making him tough, but I don’t know if a six-year-old boy should be tough,” Sarah said, tearing up. “He’s my baby, you know. To me, he’s perfect, but the rest of the world doesn’t see him that way.”
Mauve had been looking down at the frosty ground under their feet, but now she lifted her gaze toward Jason and then to Sarah. “I have an idea. What if we taught Ollie to do the song in sign language? He could perform it that way.”
“Will Mrs. Jones allow that?” Sarah asked.
“If I’m involved, she will,” Mauve said, thinking she would need to have a word with her about her treatment of Ollie.
“He signs with us at home quite a bit,” Sarah said. “Functional stuff. More, done, help, please, bathroom. Thanks to your work with him.”
“Teaching signs is pretty standard with kids like him,” Mauve said to Jason. “But, for a concert, we’re talking expressive signing. Almost a performance.” She turned back to Sarah. “Do you think he’d want to try?”
“If you encouraged him, yes,” Sarah said.
“It would be good for him to feel as if he’s a part of something for once, instead of invisible.
That’s the hardest part for him. Because he doesn’t speak, he becomes part of the scenery to the other kids and to most adults.
This would be something he could do that would be just his, but also make him part of the class.
Would we be able to teach him a song in the next two weeks? ”
“I can work with him on it,” Mauve said. “We can schedule some extra sessions. Think of it as my Christmas present to my favorite client.”
“It’s a performance, though,” Jason said. “He has to match the rhythm of the music. And he has to express the song through his facial expressions in addition to the signs.”
“How do you know that?” Mauve asked.
He felt a flush making its way up his neck and smiled, sheepish.
“I learned ASL for a role five years ago. It was a limited series, and nobody watched it, but I played a deaf character. I had a language coach for four months. We worked a lot on the performative angle. How to make the signs readable from the back of a room, for example. Time them to music. Sell the story to the audience.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Mauve asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’m saying I could help,” Jason said.
Sarah was staring at him, as if trying to discern his angle. “You would do that for a stranger?”
“He’s not a stranger,” Jason said. “He’s my girlfriend’s favorite client.”
Girlfriend. That had slipped out.
Mauve didn’t appear to notice. Instead, she asked Jason, “Do you think you can learn a song and teach it to him in two weeks?”
“What’s the song?” Jason asked.
“Frosty the Snowman,” Sarah said.
“Oh, good one. There’s a story to it.” Jason rubbed his hands together, grinning.
“This will be fun. I’m rusty, but I’m sure it will come back.
Before filming, I spent four months immersed in the language.
And I’m still friends with my ASL coach in L.A.
I’ll have her videotape herself so we can mimic. When can we start?”
Both women laughed.
“What?” Jason asked.
“Who knew we’d have a professional actor in town to teach Ollie how to sing in sign language,” Mauve asked.
“Not me,” Sarah said.
“And you think Ollie will want to do this?” Mauve asked Sarah. “I don’t want him to feel pressured.”
“He’s desperate to be part of something, so, yes,” Sarah said.
“Before he understood that he was different from the other kids—back when he was home with just me and Ben—he used to be very expressive. He used to try to make me laugh by making faces and making jokes with his body. It’s hard to explain, but I think there might be a little actor in him. ”
“I can pull it out if it’s there,” Jason said. “And who better than a guy who used to suffer from a terrible stutter. A guy who played a tree.”
“I’ll talk to Ben, but I think he’ll agree to it,” Sarah said, eyes shining. “I can’t thank you enough. Both of you. I’m grateful I ran into you.”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” Mauve said. “We’ll make a plan.”
They said goodbye to Sarah and headed toward the parking lot without speaking. It wasn’t until they got to the car that Mauve burst into tears.
Jason’s heart melted. He took her hand between both of his. “It’s okay. We’re going to make it better for him.”
She nodded, tears still flowing. “When I think about what he must have felt like when she told him just to stand there. It’s just so sad.”
He reached over the console to grab a small packet of tissues and handed them to her. “It is sad but not hopeless. We can do this. Between the two of us, who better to help?”
She dabbed at her damp eyes. “You’re right. It’s just sometimes, in my line of work, I see stuff that breaks my heart a little piece at a time. I wonder sometimes if I’m enough.”
“Trust me, Mauve Callahan. You’re enough. More than enough. For Ollie. For me. For whatever comes your way.”
She smiled, reaching over to cup his chin in her free hand. “You’re kind of dreamy, you know that?”
“I’d do anything to make you smile.”
He leaned close to kiss her, but couldn’t help but think about how untrue his words were.
If he were a better man, he’d never walk away from this woman.
He’d spend the rest of his life trying to make her happy.
Instead, he was cursed with ambition, which would not let him free, no matter how much he loved a woman.
And, yeah. He loved her.