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I nod, still refusing to look at her.
“He didn’t mean what he said,” she says, gripping my hand to stop me from scrubbing. With gentle hands, she forces me to face her. “He’s dealing with a lot of changes in his life and he’s been lashing out at everyone.” Her words are faded, lost amongst the pulse drumming in my ears.
I stare ahead, unable to respond.
It’s not until she raises both her hands that I seem to refocus. She smiles, right before she signs, “Are you okay?”
My eyes snap to hers—to clear, dark eyes filled with hope and understanding.
“How…” I mouth.
She points to my hands, encouraging me with a nod.
I sign, “You know ASL?”
“J O S H,” she signs. Then speaks, “He tried to learn on YouTube but it was hard because he had no one to tell him if he was doing it right, so he asked if we could take classes together. We go once a week over at the community college… but because of his travel, he doesn’t get to go much and so I try to teach him what he’s missed out on.” Her hands move again, signing, “I hope I’m doing it right.”
“You are,” I sign back.
Ella nods, her gentle smile reaching her eyes as she leans against the counter. Then she says, “Josh is so happy you’re back in his life, Becca. It’s like he’d just been going through the motions, you know? After his dad passed away, it was like he was doing everything because he felt like he needed to, for Henry… but then you came back around and it’s as if he found his purpose again. His joy.” She pauses a beat before adding, “I hope I’m not coming on too strong, or making you want to run and hide. I know it’s only been a couple of months since you’ve reconnected, but you’ve both been through so much. You care about each other so deeply. Tommy wouldn’t be in Josh’s life the way he is if it wasn’t for you.” Ella moves around the kitchen and reaches into a cupboard where Josh stores what little alcohol he keeps. She pulls out a large album and rests it on the counter, flipping the cover to reveal a newspaper cut out—a picture I’d taken freshman year when I first started on the paper.
Confused, I stare at the image, stare at the text that goes with it, and then stare at the highlight of my name beneath the picture. I swallow the lump in my throat, and turn the page, and then another, each one a different article. Toward the back of the book, there are less images and more of my human interest stories. Ella moves next to me, her arm brushing mine. “When he found out you were on the paper,” she says, “he went on the online message board over at WU and asked for someone to send them to him. He even got them to send the older editions so he had the full collection. He didn’t want to subscribe in case you somehow found out about it.”
I keep my gaze on the album, my heart beating wildly for a boy who has no idea that even from a distance, even through his secrets, he’s finding a way to heal me. “Why are you showing me?” I sign.
Her response is instant. “Because I want you to know how much you mean to him.” She points to Tommy’s room. “Tommy’s a lot like Josh. They’re quick to act. Quick to speak. They don’t think, they just do. They can be arrogant and stubborn and they get that from my late husband. But the things Josh holds dearest to him are the things he won’t share. He’s probably never told you what it felt like to hold Tommy in his arms for the first time, or what it was like for him when you accepted him and Tommy into your life. He wears his pain on his sleeves, and hides his joys in his heart, because he’s so damn terrified of losing them. And maybe that’s why you clash sometimes, because you’re the opposite, Becca. You only share your joy, while you hide your pain. And, maybe, if you can both find a way to balance that, you’ll find the coast.”
—Joshua—
Becca goes home the next morning.
And after a lengthy and somewhat confusing conversation with my mother, so do I. Because at some point between the comps and media tours and the demo shoots, I’d unknowingly lost focus of my reason for doing what I was doing it in first place. None of it was supposed to take my time away from Tommy, but it had. Without me realizing, Tommy had come second to all those things, and I hadn’t known the effect it had on him until now. I just hope I’m not too late to make up for it.
The earliest flight I could book had me landing an hour after Becca left. Not that it mattered. I’m not here for her. I’m here for Tommy.
Mom’s standing in the kitchen when I open the door to my apartment. Her hands settle on her hips, her eyes scanning my body for any new injuries. She opens her mouth, but I hold a finger to my lips, cutting her off. I mouth, “Tommy?”
