Read Online Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) by L.B. Dunbar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L.B. Dunbar
Ads: Link
I’ll stay here with Elizabeth,” Sue offered kindly.
“Sue, I cannot thank you enough.”
“No worries. Go.”
I OPENED THE door as quietly as I could, but old screen doors are meant to screech, and I could see that Jess had laid back down on the porch swing. I approached quietly and knelt before the swing. Jess’ typical look – the bandana – had slipped and I went to push it off his head. His hand shot up immediately and he gripped my forearm with such speed that I froze in a half-kneeling position. He opened his denim-blue eyes, but they weren’t filled with his typical hardness. He looked up at the robin’s egg blue ceiling instead of at me. His eyes wore purple circles under them from lack of sleep, but the pupils themselves appeared sad with defeat.
Jess removed his grasp and I continued to push back the bandana, brushing some stray hairs off on his forehead. I was surprised he allowed this intimate contact, and noticed a large scar above his left eyebrow that the bandana covered.
“How are you?” I hesitated.
“Fine.” His voice was firm.
“Really?”
He finally turned his full gaze on me.
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand what happened. No offense, but why you? Why did she talk to you? She doesn’t know you. After all this time? And to ask you to take her? Why? I’ve lain here all night and questioned what I’ve done. Why has she never spoken to me in years?” His voice was rising with his angry frustration.
Jess rolled his eyes upward again. He was lying flat on his back with one arm over the back of the porch swing, the other arm resting on his chest. He had one leg over the opposite arm of the swing and a foot on the floor, gently pushing it in a lolling, rocking motion.
I held my gaze down to my own lap where my hands were clasped together as if in prayer, and I continued to squeeze my fingers together in rhythm with the swing’s movement.
“All I can think of is that it’s because you’re from Chicago. She heard you say those words the first time in our shop and she freaked out. I don’t know if you remember? She dropped everything. But Chicago has come up before. Maybe I didn’t pay enough attention? Maybe it’s because you’re a woman?”
“Do I look like her?”
“God, no.”
“Do I talk like her?”
“No.”
“Do I act like her?”
“No.”
Jess looked at me again and I felt the full force of his eyes. He squinted a little as he said, “You look different for some reason.” His eyes narrowed as they roamed over my appearance.
Compared to my grandfather’s old clothes, I was dressed casually in a white tank top more fitted for a female body, with a flouncy, multicolored skirt and dark flip flops. My hair was a messy air-dried ponytail with shorter pieces on the side falling out to frame my face. I didn’t wear much make-up and in my haste last night, had only put on a light lipstick.
It was Jess’ turn to reach outward and he pushed a piece of wayward hair behind my ear. Without thinking, I turned my face toward his hand, but Jess pulled back quickly.
“I want to help you.” I returned to looking down at my hands, embarrassed by my reaction to his touch and the outburst of my words.
“How?” he snapped. “I’ve had her looked at by pediatricians and speech pathologists, audiologists and even brain specialists. They’ve found nothing wrong with her. She can hear me. She responds. But she won’t speak. She hardly writes anything down and I’ve just grown to read her, if that makes any sense.” His voice was rising again and he took a breath to calm it. “But she can’t keep attending school without speech. She has no friends. The kids don’t know how to react to her silence. My sister was her teacher this past year and she assures me no one teased her, but I know kids can be cruel and they always wait until an adult isn’t looking.”
This was the longest speech Jess had given me since we’d met.
“Well, she
“Sue, I cannot thank you enough.”
“No worries. Go.”
I OPENED THE door as quietly as I could, but old screen doors are meant to screech, and I could see that Jess had laid back down on the porch swing. I approached quietly and knelt before the swing. Jess’ typical look – the bandana – had slipped and I went to push it off his head. His hand shot up immediately and he gripped my forearm with such speed that I froze in a half-kneeling position. He opened his denim-blue eyes, but they weren’t filled with his typical hardness. He looked up at the robin’s egg blue ceiling instead of at me. His eyes wore purple circles under them from lack of sleep, but the pupils themselves appeared sad with defeat.
Jess removed his grasp and I continued to push back the bandana, brushing some stray hairs off on his forehead. I was surprised he allowed this intimate contact, and noticed a large scar above his left eyebrow that the bandana covered.
“How are you?” I hesitated.
“Fine.” His voice was firm.
“Really?”
He finally turned his full gaze on me.
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t understand what happened. No offense, but why you? Why did she talk to you? She doesn’t know you. After all this time? And to ask you to take her? Why? I’ve lain here all night and questioned what I’ve done. Why has she never spoken to me in years?” His voice was rising with his angry frustration.
Jess rolled his eyes upward again. He was lying flat on his back with one arm over the back of the porch swing, the other arm resting on his chest. He had one leg over the opposite arm of the swing and a foot on the floor, gently pushing it in a lolling, rocking motion.
I held my gaze down to my own lap where my hands were clasped together as if in prayer, and I continued to squeeze my fingers together in rhythm with the swing’s movement.
“All I can think of is that it’s because you’re from Chicago. She heard you say those words the first time in our shop and she freaked out. I don’t know if you remember? She dropped everything. But Chicago has come up before. Maybe I didn’t pay enough attention? Maybe it’s because you’re a woman?”
“Do I look like her?”
“God, no.”
“Do I talk like her?”
“No.”
“Do I act like her?”
“No.”
Jess looked at me again and I felt the full force of his eyes. He squinted a little as he said, “You look different for some reason.” His eyes narrowed as they roamed over my appearance.
Compared to my grandfather’s old clothes, I was dressed casually in a white tank top more fitted for a female body, with a flouncy, multicolored skirt and dark flip flops. My hair was a messy air-dried ponytail with shorter pieces on the side falling out to frame my face. I didn’t wear much make-up and in my haste last night, had only put on a light lipstick.
It was Jess’ turn to reach outward and he pushed a piece of wayward hair behind my ear. Without thinking, I turned my face toward his hand, but Jess pulled back quickly.
“I want to help you.” I returned to looking down at my hands, embarrassed by my reaction to his touch and the outburst of my words.
“How?” he snapped. “I’ve had her looked at by pediatricians and speech pathologists, audiologists and even brain specialists. They’ve found nothing wrong with her. She can hear me. She responds. But she won’t speak. She hardly writes anything down and I’ve just grown to read her, if that makes any sense.” His voice was rising again and he took a breath to calm it. “But she can’t keep attending school without speech. She has no friends. The kids don’t know how to react to her silence. My sister was her teacher this past year and she assures me no one teased her, but I know kids can be cruel and they always wait until an adult isn’t looking.”
This was the longest speech Jess had given me since we’d met.
“Well, she
Similar Books
