When I jerk up my chin, acknowledging I heard him, Alex balances his hip on my desk, announcing our conversation isn’t over just yet. “Did you speak to Isabelle before she left?”
“Yeah, briefly. She unearthed the identity of the mysterious female in the yellow car outside of Isaac’s nightclub.” I don’t know why I’m sugar-coating Isabelle’s investigative skills. It’s a habit I can’t seem to let go of, much like my inability to remove Melody from my mind.
Alex scrubs at his jaw like Grayson always does. His is just minus the scruffy beard he had before he took a five-month hiatus from the Bureau. “Did she happen to mention where she was going this weekend?”
“Ah… not in full detail. She said she and Harlow were going away for the weekend.” I’m not sugar-coating anything this time around. Isabelle either believed her weekend getaway was solely with Harlow or she’s more skilled in lying than I once was. “Why are you asking? Is she in danger?”
“No,” Alex denies with a shake of his head. “I just figured you were friends, that’s all, so I’m trying to wrap my head around why you didn’t get an invite to her weekend getaway.”
He’s a worse liar than Grayson, but I’m happy to lead him to believe he isn’t. “Perhaps it’s a girls-only weekend? I don’t have the necessary equipment for an invite to one of those.”
A side of Alex I haven’t seen in months shines through when he ribs, “Are you sure about that, Brandon? After all the pussyfooting you’ve done the past few months, I’m beginning to wonder.”
Smirking at my shocked expression, he returns to the glass box he calls an office, and I switch my investigation from Annie Langfield’s whereabouts to Isabelle’s. I can’t change the past, but if I try to stay one step ahead of the future, I can hope it won’t be nowhere near as painful.
12
MELODY
A grin tugs at my lips when the chime of a bakery bell dings into my ears. It’s funny how the littlest things can cause the most joy. I had never considered what a bell sounded like. I always pictured the noise more than wondering about its happy little chime. It’s a good ding to alert staff to customers just like loud and ear-hurting sirens are perfect for ambulances and fire trucks. I went from a world of silence to one that never stops humming. I guess that’s why Julian understood my wish to move back to New York State. There are so many noises here I’ve never heard before, such as Mrs. McGee’s voice when she waves for me to join her from the corner of the bakery. Her tone is as beautiful as her face, and her pitch is perfect.
“Hello.”
She cries like I did the first time I heard someone speak, except this time, it’s the other way around. She’s hearing me talk for the first time.
“Melody,” she signs my name as well as saying it. “You… oh… you’re beautiful. Come here.” When she wraps me up in a firm hug, my heart turns to mush. Her son hurt me, but Julian taught me it’s okay to still love her. She didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did Brandon. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Once she pulls back, she gestures for me to sit. I hang my purse over the back of the wooden chair before sitting in the seat across from her. I smile in gratitude when she taps on my ankle with her foot to advise me the waiter is at my side, forgetting I can hear the faint patter of his feet, much less smell his deodorant.
After ordering a cup of coffee and a blueberry Danish, I divert my attention back to Mrs. McGee. My eyes automatically drop to her lips when she asks, “Is Julian going to be joining us?” Lipreading is an old habit I find hard to give up.
“Ahh, no. He said he would come next time. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” When she takes her time to respond to my reply, I sign. “I can sign if you would prefer. My voice is—”
She encloses her hands over mine. “Your voice is beautiful. I’m sorry if I am appearing rude. I’m just stunned. I never thought this was possible.”
“I didn’t either. I was really opposed to the idea at one stage.”
Mrs. McGee laughs. “Yes, you were. If I recall correctly, you didn’t want the fantasy in your head ruined if you discovered we all had robot voices.”
My laugh still sounds odd to me, but it springs tears into Mrs. McGee’s eyes. “You should have seen my face when they switched on the devices. I was mortified my worst nightmare had come true.”
Mrs. McGee laughs so hard, she covers her big beaming smile with a napkin coated with the crumbs of the muffin she was halfway through devouring before I joined her. Nerves made me over thirty minutes late. I’m glad she isn’t mad I almost left her stag.
My smile sags when she asks, “Have you heard Brandon speak yet?”
When I shake my head, fresh tears twinkle in her eyes. “He called me last week, but it was on the TTY phone. I haven’t told anyone I got cochlear implants. I don’t know why.” I do. I hate admitting I had a disability. I had never seen my deafness as a disability until I met Julian, and I don’t want to now.
Mrs. McGee reminds me of the gorgeous soul she has when she asks, “You still have a TTY phone?” She sounds as shocked as Julian did when I ordered one to be installed in my loft. The speech side of my new skills was still in development, but I was far from needing a TTY phone. It was just something I couldn’t give up straight away. “I thought that would have been the first thing you got rid of. With how advanced technology is, they’re so clunky and outdated. Your beautiful face should be flashed across FaceTime for eternity.”
“I had considered ditching my phone, but it’s kind of like a safety net for me. It reminds me of home.”
She nods, fully understanding what I mean as she too has many crutches she’s not willing to let go of just yet.
“I heard you’re moving back to the ranch. Is that true?”
Sadness crosses her face first, but it’s quickly gobbled up by happiness. “Yes, I think it’s time. There’s nothing here for me anymore.” She doesn’t need to mention Mr. McGee’s name for me to know who she’s talking about. The tabloids make up for her lack of words, much less rumors of McGee’s many affairs the past decade.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Not just for what happened with Mr. McGee but with Joey as well.” My teeth crunch when I almost lose the plot at the mention of Joey’s name. It was easy to believe Julian when he said Mrs. McGee doesn’t deserve the wrath of Joey’s ill-judgment, but it’s harder believing it is okay for me to still care for Joey.
