Page 75 of Read My Lips

Simon paused, his bagel halfway to his mouth. “Are you telling me a joke while I’m trying to eat?”

“Yeah.”

He set the bagel down. “I’ll grab my hearing aids.”

“No point. It’s in BSL.”

“Okay...” A sort of content resignation layered between his lazy vowels, and he bolstered a pillow under his elbow. “Go on then.”

“Let’s call him B-r-i-a-n.”

“Brian?” Simon echoed my finger spelling with an unconvinced tilt to his eyebrow. He stretched a yawn, all cat-like and languorous.

“What’s wrong with Brian?” I signed.

“No idea.” Simon wet his lips, slipping back to speaking. “It’s your joke. Is he ill?”

I hinged a laugh, fingers working a wag into my jaw, up and down, exaggerated like a clown puppet. “Oh you’re hilarious, you are.”

Simon grinned sleepily. “Go on. Tell me.”

“Okay,” I signed. “So, Brian’s from another country, right?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He’s staying at this proper posh hotel⁠—”

“The Ritz or something?”

“Yeah. Like that.” I relaxed back into my pillow. Simon might have been pretending to be half asleep, but he was paying attention to my hands and my mouth and my body. It felt good to be his only focus.

“He’s meeting his father-in-law for the first time. Wants to make a good impression. But he’s late, he’s run all the way there, and he’s trying to get in.” Taking on Brian’s frazzled look, I rattled at the door handles I’d set into space, all commotion.

Simon sat up a little straighter, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“The door guy comes over,” I continued signing, placing all the details in space. “Top hat. Tails.”

And then I stepped into him, looking down my nose at Brian, shaking my head. I sketched the boundaries of an imaginary notice, lodging it into the space between us.

“It says pull.”

Understanding flashed light-bulb-like across my face as I angled into the place I’d parked Brian. “Brilliant. Thank you,” I signed, effusively grateful as I tapped at the side of my head. “I understand now.”

Interest simmered in Simon’s eyes.

Pulling open the imaginary door, I puffed my cheeks as I signed relief. Obstacle overcome.

“But, inside there’s another door. It won’t open either.” The handles were stuck. Turning slightly, I changed, pulling on the drawn up, snootiness of the porter standing right where I’d left him. Again, I tapped on the sign beside the doorway. “This one says push.”

I grimaced, nodding slow, giving an embarrassed thumbs up on Brian’s behalf. “Right. Got it.”

Simon snorted a giggle.

“Thank you. So much. I understand.” That head-tap again. Brian’s gratitude dimmed.

Leaning back, I tracked the path of the porter walking away and sagged with Brian’s relief at him walking away.

“Right. Focus.”