You sit them down at the kitchen table that night and you ask for the job. When they ask if you’re sure that’s what you want to do, you say you are but the truth is somewhere in the gray area between yes and no.
Surprised but pleased, your parents agree, saying nothing would make them prouder.
Now, you have a job.
And then, slowly, day by day, minute by minute, at such a snail’s pace that you can barely register that anything is happening at all, you find a life’s purpose again.
It is right there, in Blair Books, the very place you’ve spent your life running from. It is in the children’s reading nook and the messy stockroom. It is in the curated display table at the front of the store and the bargain bin in the back. You look at the bookmarks. The ones that say “Travel the World by Reading a Book.”
You have already seen the world.
Marie and Mike bring the girls over for dinner one Sunday, and right before dessert, Mike mentions that they have an appointment with a hearing specialist on Tuesday. That night, you overhear your parents saying that it’s about time. You realize that you spend so little time with your nieces, so little time with your sister, that you didn’t realize the twins have stopped responding to the sound of their names or to loud noises.
You resolve to call Marie after the appointment. You are going to be an attentive sister. You are going to be a good aunt.
Marie answers the phone in tears but you are able to piece together what has happened.
Your nieces are going deaf.
It has something to do with a gene called connexin 26.
You go over to Marie’s house that night and bring her what you used to love on a bad day. You bring her Diet Coke and Ben & Jerry’s. You find a flavor with coconut and chocolate because you know her favorite candy bar is an Almond Joy. She puts the ice cream in the freezer and leaves the Diet Coke on the counter. But she hugs you so hard you think it might leave a mark. You hold her and let her sob.
You move out of your parents’ house into a studio apartment in Cambridge. You say you’re moving out because you want to live in a brownstone but the truth is you’re moving out because Olive agrees that it’s time for you to start to meet people. Any people. New people.
Five months into your job as the manager, you sit your parents down and pitch them on selling e-books and e-readers. You outline how to do it. When they tell you that you’re great at your job, you start crying and you miss Jesse. Happy moments are the worst, that’s when the ache is strongest. But you wipe your eyes, get back to work, and when you put your head on the pillow that night, you consider it a good day.
An old college friend of your father’s comes into the store looking for him but he’s not in. The man sees that you are the manager and asks your name. You say your name is Emma Lerner and the man frowns. He says he knows Colin always wanted one of his girls to take over the store. You say that you are one of his girls. The man apologizes for his mistake.
Marie and Mike buy a house down the street from your parents. Mike will have to commute far to the sporting goods stores but Marie thinks it’s important to be near your parents.
After she’s settled in, you call her and ask her if she’d like to take a sign language class with you in Boston. You tell her you’re excited to learn how to talk with your hands. She agrees and it is the only time she takes to do something out of the house, without her children. After a few weeks, you realize that you are your sister’s entire social life.
One day after class, Marie asks if you’d like to stay out and get lunch. You take her to a Mongolian barbecue place and you run into Jesse’s older brother Chris. You say hello and you catch up and you are surprised to find that you do not cry.
As you and Marie are walking back to the T, she asks if you’re okay. As you’re explaining how you feel, it hits you