Chapter Twenty-six
Maisy falls asleep on the couch right after she eats, Bolt still in her lap.
A match made in heaven.
“I’m going to put her to bed,” I tell Ellie.
I carefully extract the cat from Maisy’s arms, but when I pick her up, she awakens and immediately searches for him.
“Bedtime,” I sign as best I can with one hand.
“Cat,” she signs.
I turn to Ellie. “I think she wants the cat to sleep with her.”
She shrugs and holds out her hands as if asking why not?
I suppose it will be okay. It’s not like Maisy is an infant who can be suffocated. It’s probably Bolt that I should worry about. But he’s done well and seems to be completely happy with her smothering.
I lean down, grab him with my free hand, and put him back into her arms.
In her room, I put Bolt on the bed and point to the bathroom. Maisy knows the whole bedtime routine by now and is good at getting herself ready. I even let her brush her own teeth, though I help her in the mornings to make sure it’s done properly, something I’m quite certain wasn’t accomplished tonight since she’s running back across the room and hopping on the bed in record time.
“Did you brush your teeth?” I ask, doing the motion.
She bears her teeth and shows them to me. I’ll take that as a yes.
“Did you wash your hands?” I ask, mimicking the task.
She puts a hand up to my nose. I can smell the fruity scent of the hand soap.
“Good girl,” I sign.
She snuggles Bolt the same way she has always snuggled her stuffed cat every night when we settle in to look at a book. The poor ragged toy sits perched against the wall, forgotten. I almost feel sorry for it. It makes me wonder if it ever had a name or if Maisy thought of it as ‘cat’ as well. Then again, she didn’t even know what ‘cat’ was back then. She didn’t know anything had names. She didn’t know about letters and words. Her whole life was about pictures.
How lonely it must have been for her to live inside her head when she couldn’t even think in words.
Maisy pats the book a few times to get my attention. Of course she picked one about a cat. I think we must have about twenty of those now.
She becomes sleepy, yet there’s still a hint of a smile on her face. I hear Bolt purr and understand why. Just like the music in the car, Maisy must love the vibrations he produces when he’s happy. I look at the two of them, each a misfit of sorts. Not because of any limitations, but because they haven’t found their place in the world. Well, Bolt has found his. And I hope to God, Maisy has found hers.
It saddens me every time I think about the possibility that all of this could be a short-term thing. About Lucinda being released from rehab and wanting Maisy back. My only hope is that she’ll see how well-adjusted she’s become and not pursue custody. Maybe Maisy can live here permanently.
Would I be opposed to sharing custody if Lucida agreed to step up and meet Maisy’s needs? Yes, I think, looking down at my sleepy daughter, I sure as hell would be opposed. I want to be the one to read books to her. The one who takes her to school. The one who… eventually, will even walk her down the aisle someday.
I love her. I love her so goddamn much. I want to tell her. I know the sign. But she won’t understand the meaning. She’s smart, but she still has so much to learn. Emotions are hard to explain to a kid who has a limited vocabulary. But I long to tell her. Tell her I love her and that she’ll be safe here. That I’ll always be here for her. But until the words and the sign mean something to her, it would be pointless.
I look at the open door, remembering who’s waiting for me in the other room, and for a moment I wonder if Maisy is the only one I long to sign those words to. Jesus Christ—that thought just slammed into me like a ton of fucking bricks. Could I really be in love? It’s a ludicrous thought. We’ve only known each other a short time. We’ve only gone on one date.
But still, I feel it. Like I do with Maisy. I swear I can feel it all the way down into my soul.
I put the book away. Then, since Maisy is half asleep, I do something I’ve never done—I lean down and kiss her forehead. Her soft, smooth, small, amazing forehead. I linger for just a second so I don’t scare her. When I pull away, her eyes are open. She shifts Bolt to the side and leans into me, her hands snaking around my neck.
Maybe she’s still thanking me for the cat. Maybe she thinks that’s just what you do after someone kisses you. Or maybe… maybe she’s beginning to feel about me the way I feel about her.
“Goodnight,” I sign without speaking. Because right now, I’m fairly sure no words could get past the happy lump in my throat.
I turn off her light and watch from the doorway as she snuggles Bolt in what seems to be a very reciprocal hug. And for the first time, I know I can do this. I can be a good dad. I can even be the father she needs.
I’m ready.
~ ~ ~
After pulling myself together in my bathroom—because I’m trying to impress Ellie, not send her running from the overly-emotional manchild—I walk back out to the living room.
Something is definitely wrong. She’s staring blankly at her phone. She’s been way more reserved than she usually is. Distant. Yet it’s after seven o’clock and she’s still here. She never stays late. That’s got to mean something.
After a few long moments, she sees me standing in the room and sets her phone down. “You want to talk?” she asks.
“I don’t know the sign for what I want,” I say. I stride over, hover above her, and then lean down, trapping her on the couch with an arm on either side of her. “So I’ll just show you.”
My lips come down on hers. She’s hesitant, but then her mouth opens and she returns the kiss with fervor. I settle my body between her legs, my knees on the floor, and we kiss like this for a long time. I can’t ever remember a make-out sesh quite like this one. I sure as hell hope it’s the first of many.
I grip her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the couch until her good parts meet my good parts. She doesn’t seem to mind that I’m dry-humping her right here in my living room. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s enjoying it as much as I am.
I love the throaty mewls that come out of her. I wonder if she knows when she makes noise. A question that’s burned in my mind for a while finally percolates out of me. I lean back and look in her eyes. “Have you ever tried to speak?”
Her mouth becomes a thin line and she looks over at the wall. She’s irritated that I asked. I immediately get out my phone.
Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. I’m not even sure if it’s rude to ask. It’s just that there are all these amazing sexy sounds coming out of you. I wondered if you knew they were happening. The question just popped out.
She blushes.
Ellie: I can feel light vibrations. But I wasn’t aware the noises were audible. Sorry.
Me: Are you kidding? Don’t be sorry. Those noises turn me on big time.
She looks up at me as if I’m crazy. I gesture to the front of my pants, the outline of my erection clear. She blushes harder.
Ellie: I speak around my family. But that’s it.
Surprised that she speaks at all, my jaw goes slack. “You talk?”
Ellie: All deaf can learn to talk, Blake. It’s just a question of whether or not we choose to.
“Can you talk to me?”
She shakes her head forcefully. It’s the most deliberate, expressive movement I’ve seen her make, alerting me to the fact that I’ve totally overstepped some sort of forbidden boundary.
I don’t ask again. If she were comfortable speaking, she would. And she’s obviously not. I try not to be offended that the gorgeous woman in front of me may not feel the same way about me as I do her.
“Enough talking,” I say. “More kissing. Wait. Show me the sign for kiss.”
She brings her fingers up to her mouth, touching it before she moves them up and touches her cheek.
I do the sign back to her.
She nods her seal of approval.
Silently, I sign, “I want to kiss you.”
“Very good,” she signs with pride like a bonefide teacher.
“What’s my reward?” I ask with words.
She studies my lips, licks her own, then leans forward. I love how she can read my lips. She seems to be able to read mine more than most. A match made in heaven, I hear in my head as I wrap my arms around her and kiss her.
Part of me wants more. Wants what we had the other night. But oddly, another part of me is perfectly content with this. Her lips. Our closeness. Being right here with her in this moment. Savoring every minute we’re together.
Unfortunately, the part that wants more is painfully throbbing against the fly of my pants.
I lean away, wiping a finger under my mouth. “Should I call Allie?”
She considers it for a second, then shakes her head. “I have to go,” she signs.
Me: I’m saying all the wrong things tonight.
Ellie: It’s not you. I’m not in a good headspace right now. Stuff on my mind.
At least after our marathon make-out, I’m fairly sure the stuff on her mind doesn’t have to do with me.
I stand. “See you after school tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She glances at the hallway. “I’m happy for you and Maisy.”
“Me, too. She hugged me again. Before she went to sleep.”
She does the sign for clapping and smiles brightly. Then she signs, “Amazing.”
Me: YOU’RE amazing. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you.
Ellie: Someone else would have been just as helpful. I’m just doing my job.
I stare her down.
Me: Is that really true, El? Did you stay late tonight because it’s your job?
Ellie: I really do have to go.
“Friday?” I sign.
She does a little jig dance move that makes me laugh.
Me: I’ll be counting down the hours.
She cocks her head as if it’s a foreign concept. As if a man can’t possibly look forward to something as much as a woman.
As if she’s obliviously unaware of these intense feelings I have for her.