nothing for us to say. She moved back to Georgia where her family is, so we don’t see each other. Before her were a few others—girlfriends, not fiancées. More than I’d like to admit. Not as much as your brother though.”
I roll my eyes at the last remark. “Jesse always insisted he’d never settle, huh?”
His nod comes easily. “Ren is good for him. He’s changed a lot since she came into his life and I’m happy for them.”
“Me too.” The answer is quick, genuine. Even if we don’t talk or see each other much, I’m happy my brother could find that happiness.
His body shifts on the seat. “Do you mind me asking why you were taking a sign language class at the Rec Center? You don’t have to explain, I was just curious.”
Wetting my bottom lip, I take a moment to decide if it’s my story to tell. “It’s for Ainsley. Well, the both of us. She doesn’t verbally communicate, so one of her teachers suggested learning sign language.”
“She’s mute?”
“Select mute,” I correct quietly. I’ll always remember the day she stopped talking. She was young, always babbling on about something to whoever would listen. She learned to talk at a young age and knew things most kids didn’t. Ainsley was smart. So, so smart. And after her father passed away, she shut down. Never again did I hear her questions or random facts or laughter.
I miss that the most.
Her laughter.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
My shoulders lift like it’s not a big deal. It is, it’s just not one he can do anything about. His apology will get us nowhere. “We’ve been signing more to each other as we learn. She’s picking it up quicker than I am. I swear she’s a child genius, Carter. It makes me wonder if she was really Danny’s.” A laugh bubbles past my lips at the ridiculous statement. “I mean, of course she was. But he always hated school and learning and nearly failed a grade. Remember? I think Ainsley takes after her mom. I didn’t know her that well.
“Anyway, it’s nice to see her talk in some form. I’m not as quick to learn, but I know enough to get by. We’re going to keep taking classes to get better since the courses aren’t that long at the Center. My parents are even learning, and my best friend said she’d sign up too.” Smiling at the effort everyone wants to make for Ainsley, I sigh. “I’m lucky. I always thought I was cursed, but I’m lucky to have them. You know?”
“It sounds like you surround yourself with good people,” he agrees, smiling.
And I do. I really do.
Feeling the pressure of first non-date jitters leave my body as the heavy conversation lightens, I lean back in my chair and give him a sultry smile. “So, Carter Ford. Tell me all your deepest, darkest secrets.”
His eyes burn into mine, something lingering in them as he studies my expression closely before his own lips carve into a smirk mixed with amusement and something else. Interest? I can’t be sure. “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”
We. Not me.
It’s pitch-black when I make it back home, well past midnight. After dinner was drinks and a long walk to sober up and talk about everything and anything we wanted to. Mundane fun facts like favorite colors, food, and movies. He was surprised to learn mine are purple, barbecue chicken pizza, and The Wizard of Oz. Though, I’m not sure why the movie choice is that shocking since I watched it all the time when I was younger.
It was his choices that didn’t surprise me at all. I’ve always known blue was his favorite color and that he loved any type of pasta, or that Chainsaw Massacre was his nostalgic go-to. He and Jesse would always bribe me into watching the movies with them as more came out, then betting each other how long I’d last before hiding in my room.
Carter always bet in my favor.
He also always lost.
With barely any buzz coursing through my limbs, I lock the front door and note the kitchen light on. Stepping out of my shoes and leaving them by the couch, I walk into the kitchen for a glass of water and see Easton making a sandwich on the island.
“Hey,” I greet, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water.
“You’re home late.” There’s no accusation in his tone. It’s just a simple statement.