Scene Fourteen

Much later, after picking up Hank in the kitchen, after their walk around the grounds, after they had each made their phone calls, and shortly after their intimate desires had been satisfied Gil lay naked with her in bed, the sheet pulled up to his abdomen, one hand behind his head and his other arm draped loosely around Heather's warm body; her head resting against his left shoulder. He more felt, than heard the slow steady rhythm of her breathing and assumed she'd drifted into sleep. When she spoke softly a few moments later the sound of her voice was a gentle surprise. "You do text messages?"

He stared at the top of her head; perplexed, "I'm sorry; come again."

She picked up her head and offered him a warm sleepy smile. "You were text messaging your mom tonight. Yesterday, when I went by Catherine's house to pick up your gift from her, she said she'd be happy to help, but that she'd have to find a way to get your leave papers to you without you asking too many questions. She didn't want to spoil my surprise."

"Okay and..."

"I told her to e-mail them to you. In reply, she gave me a bizarre look and asked, 'you do want him to get them right?' When I said yes, she said 'all the time that you've known him, and you haven't figured out yet that he doesn't check his e-mail?' I told her that I knew you weren't a big fan of modern technology, but that I assumed it was a necessity at work. She laughed and explained that you were more apt to respond to an e-mail that wasn't work related for the reason that you avoid even opening your e-mail in-box at work because you dread receiving memos from Ecklie."

"That's true. So what…"

"You don't like e-mail…but you do text messaging?"

"Ahh…I see your confusion now. I only do text messaging for my mother."

"Why is that?"

"It's the only way to talk to her by phone without a TTY unless I call for a relay operator and I hate having a third party on the line. There's no privacy that way."

"Oh okay." she said quickly before the significance of the statement caught up to her, and then frowned a second later. "Your mother's deaf?"

"She is." He watched her assimilate this information.

After another two seconds, she said, "Okay" again and laid her head back down on his shoulder, but she didn't stay still long. Less than a minute later, she shifted her position; covering his body with hers and coming up to rest on her elbows so that she could gaze down at him with one of her soul probing stares. "It's hereditary. Six years ago; the second time we met. You couldn't hear me. I thought you were reading my lips, but when I asked if you were losing your hearing; you avoided answering me."

"Yes."

"Because you didn't trust me?"

"I didn't know you Heather."

"That didn't keep you from kissing me."

"No, it didn't."

"And…your hearing's okay now?"

"Yes, it's fine now. I had surgery."

"What causes it?"

"It's called Auditory Sclerosis." Again, he watched her frown in concentration as she mulled this over in her mind.

"So…I'm guessing that some kind of malformation, growth or build-up prevents sound from reaching the inner ear?"

"Yes; exactly." He said and gently rubbed her back.

"Has your mother always been deaf?"

"No. She started losing her hearing when she was twelve. Her condition progressed slowly and she became totally deaf while pregnant with me."

"Why didn't she have surgery?"

"That surgery didn't exist when Mom was young. It's a fairly new procedure."

"Can she have it now?"

"No. you can't reverse the condition once it's set. You have to catch it early to have a chance at preventing the loss, and even if she could; she wouldn't."

Heather understood. "She's lived the majority of her life without hearing. It's natural to her."

"Yes, that's exactly right."

She kept her eyes locked on his and stared for a long moment. "Can this condition recur?"

"It might."

"Will surgery work a second time?"

"That's doubtful."

"So… if it comes back; what will you do?"

"I'll… adjust… and teach you sign language." He smiled up at her.

She rolled onto her back, pulling him along with her; reversing their positions. "My hands may be a bit rusty; it's been a few years since I used them for this…" She stopped speaking and much to his astonishment finished the sentence in sign language; "but I already know how to sign."

He grinned and eased onto his side so that he could use his hands more freely. "When did you learn to sign?"

She thought for a moment, and then answered slowly with her hands, concentrating in an effort to remember all the appropriate signs. "Eleven years ago; Zoë brought a new friend home one afternoon. He was deaf; didn't speak or read lips, and he seemed content to spend his every free moment with my fifteen year old daughter. It didn't take long before writing every word I wanted to speak down got tedious and frustrating. After six weeks of him being at our house nearly every afternoon, I decided that I was not going to continue to allow the fact that he could not hear me, stop me from holding a conversation with him. I signed myself up for classes."

"You did this because a teenage boy who couldn't hear you was spending time with your daughter? That's remarkable; most people wouldn't have gone to the trouble Heather." He said aloud.

She spoke her disagreement. "It wasn't remarkable Gil. It was necessary. Zoë liked him, and I needed to know she was safe with him. I needed to talk to him. The only other option was to tell her that she couldn't spend time with him anymore, and why; because he was deaf? That would have been terribly wrong of me."

In reply, he kissed her, and when the kiss broke; he said, "This is good. I won't have to interpret for you."

"Interpret for me when?"

"Mom asked where I've been all day; why I took so long to call her back? When I told her that you'd kidnapped me and Hank and forced us to go on vacation; she said, 'Good. You need a vacation… and just when are you going to bring this smart woman to see me Gilbert?' It's not good when she calls me 'Gilbert'. It won't be wise to stall much longer."

"Then don't stall." She said from behind her hand as she covered a yawn. "I'm sleepy now; goodnight Gil." She snuggled close again.

"Sweet dreams Heather." He murmured as his eyes slid shut.