and because I’m asking someone I hardly know to help me.
I just want . . .
What? What do I want from this woman?
More kisses.
More time.
She only has until Sunday, she said, and then it’s back to her home. Her life. But she still hasn’t ordered a sink, and those pamphlets scattered on the floor of the library were about Alzheimer’s and assisted living. Emily has some tough decisions to make about her grandmother, and I shouldn’t be dragging her into supporting me and my daughter. But I sense the connection between Katie and Emily will help make the acceptance easier for Katie. Katie will agree to learning because, for some reason, she wants to please Emily.
Once again, I’m stumped.
Emily pushed and pushed and pushed with her fairy-tale nonsense and then boom! Katie admitted something happened just like in the story. Someone stole her voice. Debbie. She is a nasty witch, but since I don’t believe in hocus-pocus or voodoo, I don’t think it’s that easy. How I wish it were so simple. I’d find an antidote, give my daughter a magic potion, and restore her voice.
I’m pacing the front room, my hands deep in my back pockets, and repeating over and over this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea when my youngest sister walks into the room.
“What are you doing?” She chuckles as she watches me stalk back and forth before the front window like a caged animal at the zoo.
“I’m waiting for someone,” I snap, harsher than I intend.
“Oh, really?” she teases. “And this wouldn’t happen to be the infamous Emily Post of Chicago, would it?” My youngest sister, Tricia, and I are close. She has the same physical features as our eldest brother, Tom, with dark hair and mossy-green eyes, but she isn’t a jokester like him. I sense her husband, Trent, has something to do with the slow erosion of her humor, but I can’t question her marriage today.
“How do you know about Emily?” I stop pacing and stare at my sister. Her expression gives away the answer, and I start walking before the large window again.
“Tom,” I groan. Since the moment Emily graced our shop with her presence, he’s told me he “ships us” as a couple. His hip lingo is courtesy of his teenage daughter. Basically, he’s trying to meld us together like two separate wires, making us spark. I’d add where there isn’t a spark, but that would be a lie. Now that I’ve kissed her, the flame is real. So is the reality she’s not staying in this town. It’s the reason I’ve tried to ignore the electric current that runs up my arms every time I’ve touched her. Even before my lips met hers, and I couldn’t fight it anymore.
She’s a conduit for me, conducting all kinds of feelings I shouldn’t be feeling yet can’t seem to stop from flowing through my body—or my heart.
“Tom says she’s real pretty,” Tricia states, drawling like she’s from the South instead of the Midwest. “And he says you’ve been spending time together.”
“Tom should mind his own business,” I snap and then look up at my sister to apologize.
“What’s going on?” she asks, lowering herself to the arm of my mother’s couch. My sister has practically moved in here this summer. She’s on summer break from her teaching job, but I don’t know why she isn’t home with her man. Then again, I can’t say I’d want to spend all my time with her husband, either.
“Emily is coming over here, and we’re going to introduce Katie to sign language.”
“You know I think this is a great idea.” Tricia smiles, giving me a knowing look. She’d tried to recommend the same thing—communicative support—when everything first happened, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I couldn’t handle one more thing after Katie’s speech loss, Debbie’s disappearance, and my divorce. Not to mention, our father’s death and my move home. “It’s only a few more weeks before everyone will begin trickling back to the schools. We can contact the special education department then.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I can accept Katie has special needs. She is special. I just don’t want my daughter to suffer any pressure, particularly from strangers, because she’s been through so much already. She isn’t stupid, and I don’t want her to end up feeling that way.
“You know it’s really different now, Jess,” Tricia adds as if reading my concerned thoughts. “Sure, Katie’s going to have some issues, but there’s nothing