The Silence Between Us

by Alison Gervais

  I KNOW, I signed back happily.

  “Did . . . tell Beau?” Nina asked after I’d tucked the acceptance letter into my backpack.

  My gaze automatically flicked over to where Beau sat at our regular table next to Jackson. I quickly looked away when Jackson caught sight of me staring and he gave me one of those unsettling winks of his.

  “Um, yeah,” I answered Nina’s question. “He’s happy for me too.”

  Nina and I bought sandwiches from the food line and a tray of fries to share and took our seats at the lunch table. I wound up sitting across from Beau—somehow I was always sitting across from or near Beau—and was taken aback to see the cross look that was beginning to creep over his face.

  I got a few bites into my sandwich when Jackson leaned closer to Beau and started to say something that only made Beau’s frown deepen. I was only able to make out Jackson saying, “. . . don’t mind if . . .” before I had to give up trying to lipread.

  I fixated on my sandwich instead, picking at a wilted piece of lettuce. I wanted to know what Jackson was saying because Beau was obviously getting a little worked up about it, but it really was none of my business. Sometimes I was too nosy for my own good.

  When I was halfway through my sandwich, Jackson was suddenly leaning toward me waving a hello, and immediately I became suspicious.

  “Can I help you?” I said once I was finished chewing my food.

  “. . . sure can,” Jackson said with what I think was supposed to be a dazzling smile. “. . . was wondering . . .”

  He didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Beau cut in, signing so quickly I did a double take.

  AGAIN? I signed. It was a reflex—I couldn’t possibly have understood him correctly.

  Beau’s cheeks went from bright pink to flaming red as he repeated himself, signing what I thought he had the first time around.

  YOU ASK ME IF I WANT DATE? I signed next, the words tumbling off my fingers.

  Beau nodded, a look of relief flashing across his face. I felt myself giving a sigh of relief too.

  GOOD, I signed. BEFORE YOU ASK IF I WANT DIVORCE.

  Beau understood after I finger spelled the word for him, and I watched his eyes go wide as he quickly signed, NO! NOT THAT. I WANT . . .

  I leaned across the table to take Beau’s hands in mine, prompting him to make the letter d with his fingers. When he did, I brought his two hands together, so the tips of his fingers were touching, rather than moving them apart like he’d been doing.

  “That’s how you sign it,” I told him. “You come together, not break apart.”

  “Okay,” he said with a timid smile.

  When he slipped his hands out from mine—I suddenly didn’t want to let them go—he signed, HAVE DATE WITH ME?

  I didn’t even stop to think about it before I signed, YES.

  It was after we’d been smiling at each other like loons for one long moment that I remembered Nina was sitting right next to me. Nina, who knew enough sign language that I was pretty sure she knew exactly what just happened. Jackson on the other hand probably figured this was all something good by the dopey looks Beau and I were sharing.

  When I looked over at Nina, kind of like a kid who just got caught with their hand in a cookie jar, she was smirking.

  She just signed, FINALLY.

  CHAPTER 24

  Melissa’s chipper smile was plastered across the screen of my iPad while I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor amongst a mess of clothes.

  DOESN’T MATTER, I kept signing to Melissa, throwing aside a blouse my aunt Caroline got me for my sixteenth birthday that I never wore. DOESN’T MATTER WHAT I WEAR.

  Melissa was shaking her head in disagreement and signed, YES! again.

  I held up a sweater in a pretty gold color for Melissa to see and she made a face, scrunching her nose up.

  COLD HERE, I reminded her.

  I’d already sent her a picture of the mountain of snow in our backyard.

  OK, Melissa finally signed. FINE. NEED COLOR.

  I got up and yanked open the top drawer of my dresser, rummaging around a bit until I found what I was looking for. It was a soft red winter hat with a flower knitted onto the side. I thought it was cute but never had much occasion to wear it.

  Melissa gave a thumbs-up and signed, PERFECT, when I showed her the hat.

  NEED CHANGE, I signed, grabbing my iPad off the floor. HE SHOW UP SOON.

  Melissa waved frantically at me so I wouldn’t end the call after I signed my good-bye, and she signed, NO KISS FIRST DATE.

  My jaw dropped, and the first thing I thought to sign was, NEVER!

  I ended the call with Melissa after promising to send her updates via text on how the date was going. After I got changed, stuffed my feet into my boots, and got my hat on as nicely as possible, I dashed off to the bathroom to brush my teeth. No way was I walking into my first date with bad breath.

  The lights in the hallway started flashing on and off when my mouth was still full of toothpaste, so I figured Beau must have just arrived. I finished up in the bathroom as quickly as possible and barely remembered to take my hearing aids out and put them back in their case on my dresser before sprinting downstairs. Any time wet stuff started falling from the sky I did not wear my hearing aids.

  I was short of breath when I made it to the bottom of the stairs, grabbing at the handrail. Beau was here on time like I knew he would be, but I was taken aback to see him on the couch next to Connor, Spider-Man action figure in hand, looking like he’d been at play with my little brother for ages. Beau was a nice guy, but it was just . . . not what I expected, seeing him with Connor like this.

  I couldn’t think of a time when I hadn’t felt fiercely protective of Connor, wanting to shield him from everything I possibly could out there in the world, but this, unbelievably, was not one of those times. I stood there at the bottom of the stairs watching my little brother laughing and playing with Beau, and the only thing I could think of to do was smile.

  This was genuine—there was no mistaking any smile of Beau’s where you could see his dimples—and I wasn’t sure how to handle the variety of emotions bouncing around inside me.

  Mom looked just as surprised as I felt when she came walking out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand and saw Beau and Connor together.

  B-E-A-U YOUR DATE? she signed to me with one hand, nodding toward the couch.

  Connor had a bad habit of answering the door and letting in whoever was on the porch, so it wasn’t shocking he’d beaten Mom to the punch this time either.

  YES, I signed back. HEARING BOY, I KNOW, BUT . . .

  My sentence fell short when Beau noticed me and got to his feet, returning Spider-Man to Connor.

  HELLO, he signed, coming over to me and Mom. READY?

  YES, I signed quickly, ready to grab Beau by the arm and drag him out the door before Mom got going on whatever parental embarrassment she was getting ready to inflict.

  WHERE YOU GO? Mom signed before I could make my escape.

  SURPRISE, was Beau’s answer, making my stomach do that freefalling thing again.

  READY? I signed, pointing toward the front door.

  Beau nodded, sending a grin my way, and of course my mother didn’t miss that.

  CAREFUL, she signed, following us to the front door. NEED YOU HOME IF SNOW BAD.

  PROMISE, I signed.

  Beau had left the car running, the heat going full blast, so it was like slipping under a blanket fresh out of the dryer when I buckled myself in his car.

  We were a couple blocks away when I finally asked, “So can you tell me where we’re going now?”

  I was sure whatever Beau had in store for our date had to be something indoors with all this snow, but I still wanted to know what it was.

  “I said . . . surprise,” Beau said with a pretend stern look on his face.

  “And?” I said. “I’m not one for surprises.”

  WAIT, Beau signed to me at a st
oplight. OUR DATE FUN, PROMISE.

  There wasn’t much conversation to be had on the way to wherever Beau was taking me. He couldn’t face me while driving so I could lipread, and he couldn’t exactly sign with me with his hands occupied on the steering wheel. The longer we were in the car, though, the easier it became to relax. Beau had this calming presence whenever I was around him that was hard to ignore.

  We left Denver behind after about twenty minutes, getting on the I-70 heading west. I still wasn’t too familiar with Colorado, but I noticed we were going into a more mountainous area. Everything was covered in snow, the sky a smooth white, and I had the thought that we might currently be on our way to Narnia.

  I sat up in my seat when Beau took an exit with signs pointing toward a place called Georgetown.

  “What’s Georgetown?” I asked with interest.

  It was impossible to tell what Beau was thinking as he carefully navigated the ice-covered streets, not answering my question. It took another ten minutes before we passed under a large sign that said, “Welcome to Georgetown!”

  It was a small town tucked away in the mountains that couldn’t have had more than a thousand or so residents. There were a bunch of older style houses right out of another century, a handful of shops, and maybe a restaurant or two in the downtown area. It was cute and scenic with all the snow, but what on earth were we doing here?

  Beau parked the car in a dirt lot behind an ancient hotel and turned to face me.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  Beau had this smile on his face as he got unbuckled, opening the car door.

  “You like Christmas, right?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Beau had taken us to an old-fashioned Christmas market.

  Georgetown’s downtown was apparently where this Christmas market had taken place for the past few decades, and it was not difficult to see why the streets were packed with people of all sorts bundled up in jackets, hats, and scarves.

  The main street was right out of a Hallmark Christmas card. There were lights, garlands, and wreaths, as well as a roaring bonfire up the street in the middle of a series of market stalls where people were selling homemade goods, woodwork, and cinnamon-roasted almonds.

  The piles of snow up on the sidewalks and a man dressed up in old-fashioned clothing as Saint Nicholas gave the atmosphere even more Christmas spirit. I did a double take when I saw carolers in Victorian garb, songbooks in hand, a small crowd gathered around them.

  Beau placed a hand on my arm as we stood there on the sidewalk beside the visitor center. YOU LIKE? he signed.

  YES, I signed back honestly. DIFFERENT, BUT . . . BEAUTIFUL. I LIKE.

  Beau visibly relaxed. GOOD, he signed. HAPPY.

  “I like it,” I said aloud. “But why did you bring us here?”

  I’d never been on a date before, but I was fairly certain this wasn’t the type of date other seniors in high school would go on. Not that I was complaining, but . . .

  Beau scrunched up his face as he thought about how to respond, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I perked up, ready to lipread what he had to say.

  “This . . . what me . . . my mom . . . used . . . long time ago,” he finally said, nodding toward the market up the street. “. . . special, right? . . . thought you might like . . . not school-related.”

  The only thing I could think of to say was, “Oh.”

  Oh.

  This was only the second time Beau had mentioned his mom. I knew talking about her wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, and yet he was sharing something like this with me? Something he genuinely enjoyed and wasn’t worrying about how goofy or un-date-like it might be.

  THANK YOU, I signed to him.

  I THINK MAYBE HERE BEST, Beau signed, still looking anxious. N-I-N-A TELL ME MOVIE, BUT . . .

  Knowing exactly where he was going with this, I held up a hand to stop him.

  “I like going to the movies too. I just need closed captioning. But seriously, Beau, this is wonderful. I’m excited.”

  SAME, Beau agreed, a smile breaking out across his face

  “Let’s get started then.”

  We started up the left side of Main Street first, browsing through the cute, old-fashioned shops that sold Christmas-themed items and antiques. There were a couple galleries full of nature photography, clothes shops, bookstores, and an old general store still standing in all its original glory. Georgetown’s Christmas market had perfected the art of making you feel like you were stepping back in time.

  Beau paid for us to go on a carriage ride around town, which seemed to increase the holiday cheer even more. A young girl wearing a bright pink coat and hat stood up and started telling us about Georgetown’s history as two Clydesdales pulled us through town—or at least that’s what Beau told me. He tried to interpret what she was saying, but she was speaking too quickly for him to keep up.

  FINE, I signed, not even thinking about it when I gave his hand a squeeze.

  Beau did not let go of my hand.

  His fingers were long and thin, warm beneath the woolen blanket tossed over our laps as he traced a random pattern across the back of my hand. My heart gave a few erratic beats and breathing properly was suddenly a struggle.

  My hands were probably the most important part of myself because I used them every day to communicate. But it was strange thinking that no person ever seemed to give that any attention, focusing more on the signs I made rather than what I used to make those signs.

  I flipped my hand over, letting Beau’s fingers move to my palm. My skin felt hot pressed against his. Just like with that hug during class, releasing his hand and breaking contact was the last thing I wanted to do.

  I think I stopped breathing when Beau laced his fingers through mine. Peeking up at him took some effort, and I saw Beau was staring straight ahead like he was merely watching all the houses go by, but there was no mistaking that smile of his.

  The carriage ride ended when we returned to the giant pine tree covered in Christmas lights next to the marketplace. There were a few brief seconds when Beau released my hand to help me down from the carriage, but once my feet were carefully on the snow-covered ground, my hand was back in his. Now I couldn’t keep from smiling too.

  We wandered over to the marketplace where we tried on a few different hats and scarves and Beau bought us hot cider and a bag of cinnamon-roasted almonds as a treat. It started snowing as we stood huddled together by the bonfire, sipping our hot cider, almonds stuffed in our jacket pockets.

  BEAUTIFUL, I signed again, pointing up at the sky.

  Beau tried to hide his grin as he sipped his hot cider.

  “What?” I said. “What’s that look for?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just . . .”

  He finished his sentence by signing, HAPPY.

  SAME, I signed back. HAPPY.

  Thanks to the shorter days this time of year, night started to fall and the market began closing up. Beau led me across the street to a restaurant called Troia’s Café and we wound up having an early dinner of pasta and meatballs.

  I had a mouthful of noodles when Beau signed, TRAIN NEXT.

  AGAIN? I signed. What did he mean, train?

  “Train . . .” Beau repeated. “Up . . . mountain. Christmas lights . . .”

  He stuck a hand in his jacket pocket and came up with a folded piece of paper. He slid it across the small table to me. It was a ticket he’d printed off the computer, brightly colored and advertising the Georgetown Loop Railroad and their Santa’s Train & Lighted Forest event for the holiday season.

  “This is for kids, isn’t it?” I said to Beau, handing the ticket back.

  Beau surprisingly nodded. AGE EIGHTEEN, he signed, pointing back at himself with a grin. BUT I FEEL LIKE KID.

  SAME, I signed, pleased by his playfulness. I didn’t get to see this side of him at school, and I liked it.

  Holding Beau’s hand again on our way back to his car after dinner wasn’t as much of a surp
rise this time around, but I still felt like dissolving into a giddy mess. Strange what a boy could do to you.

  Driving through the rest of Georgetown—which was only a few more streets—was necessary to get to the Loop Railroad. All the lights in town were flickering on as Beau drove us up a small hillside. I stayed turned around in my seat to memorize the sight. Everything about this old mining town hidden in the mountains was enchanting.

  The Railroad Loop was just as crowded as the Christmas market had been, although this time with a bunch of kids hyped up on hot cocoa and sugar cookies. I snagged a couple cookies from the table set out for paying visitors and slid my arm through Beau’s as we got in line to get on the train.

  A man dressed in a conductor’s uniform took our tickets when we reached the front of the line. We found a spot in the train’s second car and took seats by the back window. The car was heated, but I sat close to Beau anyway, so I could pretend we needed to huddle together for warmth.

  I watched all the snow-covered pine trees zoom past outside as Santa’s train traveled the loop, and I even found the dim glow coming from the moon hidden behind a layer of clouds. The kids in the car had a blast once Santa showed up in his red suit and hat and started handing out treats from the bag he carried with him.

  “Did you ride the train with your mom too?” I blurted out.

  YES, Beau signed back. ALWAYS FUN.

  COOL, I signed with a grin.

  There was a moment of chaos when the lights in the car suddenly went out, but only because we’d reached the main event with all the Christmas lights. I moved up even closer to the window to get a better look at the elaborate scenes of Santa’s workshop, a gingerbread house, and even a few Star Wars characters, all made entirely of lights. The lights bathed the surrounding snow in a variety of colors—a spectacle in itself.

  I ended up being so pulled in by all the lights, wanting to see more, I barely realized Beau was tapping me on the knee to get my attention.

  “Sorry, what?” I said, turning to him.

  The only source of illumination in the car was coming from the lights we were passing outside, far too dim for me to get a good look at Beau’s face to lipread what he was saying to me.