by Pat Simmons
“What about your family? Are they baptized and filled with the Holy Ghost?” Her concern was endearing.
“Saved, sanctified, and rejoicing, all except for my youngest brother, Caleb. I guess God hasn’t called him yet.” I tried duplicating Mackenzie’s theatrics when she signed. “My parents worried about me finding the right church to cater to my needs.”
“Well, all that has changed. Let our Deaf Ministry be a blessing to you and others. Please pray about joining. Don’t just visit, become a member…” she paused as she squinted, distracted at something behind me.
Curious, I glanced over my shoulder, and sighed—Valerie. Why wasn’t she occupying her guest, or had she chased him away too? A few pews away, Valerie transformed her face into ugly expressions. She abruptly stopped when I caught her. My chest tensed in annoyance.
Since the woman appeared to have a problem with me, I wanted in my deepest fantasy to become a bull, release steam through my nostrils, and charge into her. As long as she didn’t get in the way of Mackenzie and me, we were cool; otherwise, God would have to intervene on my behalf. Somehow, I had no doubt that Mackenzie was part of the package God had for me.
Mackenzie patted my leg to regain my attention. My muscles tensed under the contact, so I really focused on her lips as she asked if I’d like to go to Applebee’s with some other church members. Without thinking twice, I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Valerie stomping her foot in a tantrum. Mackenzie’s mouth twisted, suppressing a smile. I didn’t and released what I hoped for a roar of laughter. Who cared if Valerie wasn’t happy with Mackenzie’s invitation? I was ecstatic.
CHAPTER 5
I couldn’t believe it. Not only was Mackenzie wrapping me around her finger, she was running a circle around me. Actually, I had become dizzy trailing her late nineties red Mazda. It was by the grace of God that I barely kept up as she zipped in and out of traffic lanes.
The city, motorists, and pedestrians had nothing to fear once she parked and turned off the ignition. I parked next to Mackenzie, got out, and swiftly walked to her driver’s side. Her car door was stiff, but I had the upper hand and opened it. Mackenzie’s easy smile and trusting honey-brown eyes greeted me. Yep, four days and the woman had me wrapped around her finger.
“What?” Her eyes were wide and innocent.
With a stern expression, I brought my right hand to my lips as if I were kissing my fingers. I dropped my hand as if I had a nasty taste in my mouth before pretending I was gripping the steering wheel.
Mackenzie’s head fell back and her lips curled. She seemed to chuckle before defending herself. “I’m not a bad driver.”
Folding my arms, I leaned against her car. “Want to bet? You’re lucky the saints don’t gamble because you would lose.”
“You’re right, Brother Noel.”
“About what, gambling, or being a bad driver?”
Mackenzie winked. “I never gamble.”
Raising my brow, I hoped I mumbled, “Mmm-hmm,” as I offered her my hand. With the grace of a princess, she elegantly accepted it. I recognized a few people from the church as they hopped out their cars and briskly walked to the entrance. Contrary to the mad dash, Mackenzie and I didn’t hurry. A few times, we stopped, as she signed a question. I enjoyed our camaraderie.
When we made it to the entrance, I held the door for her to enter, indulging a whiff of her hair as she passed. I smirked. The fragrance was subtle, I dared not take a deeper breath, but I inched closer anyway, trying to maintain an acceptable distance. Even though I sensed a mutual attraction, I didn’t want to assume. I didn’t have a clue she was interested.
My stomach vibrated, bracing for a long wait. Squeezing her shoulder, she turned around. I mouthed, “Are you okay standing?”
“Yep,” she answered, unbuttoning her wool coat. She removed her cap, releasing her tamed curls into the wild. She slipped off her mismatched gloves and jammed them into her coat pockets as the line stirred. We shuffled our way through the French double doors to the lobby. Ahead of us, a few sisters from the church turned around and waved at her. Valerie glanced back. She ignored me and acknowledged Mackenzie before resuming her conversation with another woman.
It was something about the woman that bugged me. Mackenzie seemed uncomplicated. Valerie had complication tattooed on her forehead.
Then God spoke to me, “Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.”
You’ve got to be kidding. I grimaced inwardly. I can’t fathom why she’s hostile toward me; I tried to reason with God. Why, I don’t even know the woman besides her name? My soul questioned. No further message was forthcoming. I didn’t have a problem with Valerie. She was the one with issues, and I sensed she would let me know sooner or later what they were, but until then, later was my preference.
***
A big bear of a guy nudged his way to the front. I was about to confront him about jumping ahead when he and some ladies from church laughed together. Towering over them, his eyes scanned the crowd. He recognized Mackenzie. Leaving the ladies, he shuffled his way back to us. I was on guard as he hugged Mackenzie and lifted her off her feet, then he acknowledged me.
“How’s it going, brother? Nick Dixon,” he introduced himself before hugging me like I were a member of a family. I flexed my muscles and returned the grip.
“I’m good. I’m Noel Richardson. I’m been visiting your church’s Deaf Ministry.”
“Oh, it’s all good.” Nick slapped me on my back. “Maybe, we can get together when we don’t have to fight the women for our food.
I chuckled, pegging him as the church comedian. He was a Cedric the Entertainer minus ten pounds, maybe fifteen. The man was solid muscle. We had that in common. Overall, after two services, I felt comfortable at the church. The members, the preaching, and especially Mackenzie were very appealing.
After a few minutes, Valerie left her post and intercepted. “I noticed you didn’t park in a handicap space,” Valerie made a big production of signing to draw unwanted attention to me.
“That’s because I’m not disabled. I’m deaf.” I had to catch myself. Sometimes my thoughts became words and slipped out of my mouth. Now was not the time for her to cross me. I wasn’t even on the church’s roll.
God reminded me of His earlier scripture. Before Valerie could counter-attack, a hostess approached. “How many are in your party?”
Nick took charge of counting faces. “Ten.”
“Would you prefer smoking or non-smoking?” the short, young girl asked, clutching a clipboard to her chest. Her smile was genuine, her face adorable, and demeanor respectable.
“Non-smoking,” Nick replied, squinting around the restaurant for some vacancies.
The hostess gritted her teeth. Her next expression revealed it wouldn’t be good news. “Do you mind splitting up? Otherwise, you’ll have to wait almost an hour and a half.”
Nick’s thick hand patted his never-missed a meal stomach. Squinting, he looked around came rendered a verdict. “I’m hungry. Y’all on your own. Whatever you’ve got to do, Miss, go for it.”
I laughed, apparently loud enough that some joined me, including Mackenzie. Our group trailed the hostess to a platform loft that stretched across the back of the restaurant. She offered three choices: a corner booth, a table for two by the window, or a round bar table with four stools.
Most piled into the booth while Nick and three women opted for the bar table where smiling faces revealed that Nick had captivated them. Mackenzie and I were left with the only option—the window seats. I restrained from grinning my approval. Mackenzie Norton was fascinating, so I had no qualms about sharing a table with her. There was a big tip coming. I helped Mackenzie remove her coat, again inhaling a whiff of her hair before extending my hand for her to take a seat.
While we waited for our server, I scanned Mackenzie’s face, trying to find something else—a mole, a scar
, a pimple—well not that, but anything I could memorize. “Do you mind if we sign? It’s easier in a public place, and I don’t have to wonder if I’m shouting.”
“No.” She wiggled two fingers in the air like a peace sign before she rested her fingers on her thumb.
I lifted my fingers and thumb to my forehead and began signing just as a perky teenager appeared at our table. His black hair was slicked back except for three spiked sections tinted deep blue. I tried to ignore the four silver earrings in his left ear. I couldn’t, they were shouting at me. This wasn’t the person I wanted handling my food.
He gave us our menus, and to my surprise began to sign, “My name’s Jason, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. What would you like to drink? I suggest the strawberry lemonade or the peach tea.”
Shocked, I shrugged, recovering enough to nod at Mackenzie who smiled knowingly.
“We’ll take two strawberry lemonades,” Mackenzie signed.
Jason clasped his hands together, showcasing bitten, dark polished fingernails. “Good. I’ll get your drinks and give you a minute to look over our menu.” He laid them on the table before us.
Mackenzie titled her head and stared at me. “You can close your mouth now, Noel.”
Shaking my head, I did just that. Funny how I was quick to judge, but I didn’t want to be judged.
“Looks are deceiving, aren’t they?” She smirked.
Yes, they are, I thought. “You think he’s deaf?”
“Who knows?” She turned down her lip and shrugged. “But he knows the language. That’s one more person to talk—I mean—to sign with…”she corrected, winking.
“At first I thought he was trying to mock us. I’m impressed.” My fingers tapped on the menus. I stared at Mackenzie. “I have to admit, unless I’m attending a deaf event, I don’t come across that many people who sign, as a matter of fact, never.”
“Many people are becoming bi-lingual. That includes signing. Embrace it, Noel, and next time, close your mouth.”
I shook my head. “Either I’m transparent or we’ve met in another life.” If it had not been for my deafness, maybe Mackenzie and I would never have met.
“Neither, I’ve learned to accept people the way they are. When you love Jesus, you’ll look beyond their faults, fingernail polish…” She grinned. “And see their needs.”
Needs? What if I made Mackenzie one of my needs? She possessed a contagious, carefree personality balanced with refined mannerisms. She had an airy walk as if she had never seen a bad day or person in her life. She was a striking woman. If she said I could fly, I would leap off the cliff. I couldn’t believe how fast my emotions were surfacing, and I couldn’t halt them.
Jason returned and placed our glasses on the table. “What have you decided, or do you need more time?”
Mackenzie flashed a smile at Jason, displaying the whitest teeth I’ve seen. I had noticed them earlier, but my mind was beginning to catalogue Mackenzie’s assets. She looked to me, but I nodded for her to go first. When I added a wink, her chest rose slightly. She was affected.
Mackenzie jutted her chin forward with a subtle challenge as if to say, bring it on, then she lowered her eyes to her menu. I had no choice but to peruse the selections. “I’ll take Applebee’s seven-ounce sirloin dinner with an extra serving of steamed vegetables. Mackenzie?” I said as I refolded the menu and laid it on the table.
“Jason, I’ll have the buttermilk shrimp,” Mackenzie said, putting a spell on the young server. “Instead of cocktail sauce, can you replace it with tartar sauce? Thanks.”
He scribbled an order on a narrow pad. By the way, I’m not deaf, but my girlfriend is. We met when I served her group when they came here for a signing supper. Jason gathered the menus and walked away.
I had attended a few silent or signing suppers before. Eating was just a cover. It was a social where couples, mostly deaf, met. Evidently, Mackenzie knew that, too. I had met a few women, but none was tempting as Mackenzie.
Jason returned within minutes with our drinks. After he placed them in front of us, he paused before his hands became animated, recapping things I already knew about Deaf culture. “The scene was fascinating. No,” He paused. “Jewel is fascinating, and she’s beautiful.”
I chuckled. Not as beautiful as Mackenzie, I imagined. This woman had me losing my mind. I had to stop thinking to myself around her. No telling what would slip out of my mouth. As Mackenzie scanned the restaurant, I furthered my assessment, locking in on her features—full lips, high cheekbones, and big, brown, clear eyes. Wild, wavy, black curls framed her narrow face and continued a little down her back. A tiny mole kissed her neck below her right ear. Her five feet-something-inch height had a body built with temptation in mind.
Her subtle-sweet perfume announced her presence and lingered when she passed, but it was her open honesty and infectious energy that sucked me in. These were things I had already noted in our brief previous encounters, but every time I looked at Mackenzie, there was always something else I missed. I wanted to look at the world through her eyes. My mind was telling me to take things slow. My heart yelled I had wasted enough time in unproductive relationships and go for it.
I’ve never been attracted to interpreters. To my embarrassment, I’ve never dated a Christian woman. It’s not as if I had been a poster child for Christ either, but now that I was on that road, I wanted to continue the journey with Mackenzie as my passenger.
“What?”
“Did I call your name?” I frowned.
“A few times,” she teased.
“Will you go out with me?” My words came from nowhere, and I refused to take them back.
“Yes.”
The breath I was holding, I exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting that. I was looking for a challenge, hesitation, anything, but yes.”
“I don’t play games, Noel. I’m 29 years-old, and I leave play time to my students. It’s something about you that makes me feel comfortable, and I’m not going to question that. It is what it is.” Folding her arms, she lifted a brow and twisted her lips. Her cheeks hinted of a dimple. “Or would you prefer me to say, I’ll get back to you, or...”
“I may be deaf, but I’m not stupid, woman,” I mouthed, afraid I would speak too loud. Covering her small hand with mine, I squinted before removing my hand. “Tell me everything about you, Mackenzie.”
Mischief not only danced in her eyes. It was doing cartwheels. “Everything?”
“Don’t ask me that, woman.” It’s not that I didn’t want to know, but just like my favorite cake, I wanted to savor each piece slowly. Grinning, I shook my head. I wondered how this woman remained unattached this long. Maybe she was created just for me. A moment of wishful thinking came and went. “Okay, about a few things you like to do?” I took a small sip. Mackenzie was pleasing to my eyes. Ready for any revelation, I folded my arms and sat back.
Tilting her head to the side, she frowned. Finally, she smiled, not a Colgate one, but one that marvels parents when a baby grins the first time. “Besides listening to church sermons, attending Bible classes, and other church-related events, Brother Noel?”
I wiggled my mustache at my own mischief and nodded.
“I enjoy musicals.” Mackenzie’s eyes lit. “Concerts, theatrical productions, and oh, I love attending auctions.” Her expression brightened. “I don’t care if it’s an estate sale or Christy’s—of course, I’ve never attended that one, but I enjoy the sound and art of it.”
Key word—she said it—sounds. Could she survive without sounds? It wasn’t as if the Deaf culture didn’t make sounds, but at times we could be so unpredictable. One annoying habit, according to my mother, was my laugh. She called me a bull horn.
“I was a theater major in college, actually I double majored. I have a B.A. in primary education to pay the bills, and a minor in theatre. As a matter of fact, I’m still active in stage costumes or set design for local productions. A year ago, I decided to go back for my masters. There’s no
rush, so I’m taking my time.”
Mackenzie was more complex than a thousand-piece puzzle. She wasn’t coy or arrogant, just complex. I drummed my fingers against the table, trying to figure this woman out. I considered myself a confident man, but Mackenzie scared me. She was throwing things in front of me that required more effort on my part. Yeah, bring it on.
Mackenzie waved her hand. “Noel, you’re not paying attention.”
I smirked. Mackenzie, “I’m looking right at you, believe me.”
“But you aren’t paying attention.”
The woman had skills. I couldn’t put anything past her. Shaking my head, I apologized. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
She twisted her lips in a mock victory. “Focus, Noel. I said I’m starting to get hooked on ballroom dancing.” Mackenzie chuckled, not knowing that my ego was deflating. “I can’t shake and twist my hips like the woman who danced with San Francisco’s former wide-receiver Jerry Rice, but after watching a few episodes of Dancing With the Stars, I said, ‘Sign me up.’ I just haven’t had the time.”
The woman was pouring salt into my wound. I had enough. “Mackenzie, I can’t do any of those things with you,” the words spilled as I reached for my glass.
“Why? You can do all things through Christ. You appear to be in good condition. Valerie says you’re hot.”
I almost choked as I sipped on my strawberry lemonade. Maybe Valerie did have some good qualities. “I’ll take her compliment, but I’d rather it come from you.”
She leaned closer, forcing me to meet her halfway. I hoped we were about to share a secret. My nostrils flared from her perfume in anticipation. I concentrated on her full lips.
“Noel, you’re like no other man I’ve met. Yes, you’re hot, but there’s more to you than abs and biceps. God sent you to my church for a reason. Explore it.”
On a scale of one to ten, Mackenzie had me blushing at ten plus. Sitting back, her fingers played keyboards on the table as she awaited my response. I had no comeback.