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Fear seizes my heart.
I take a step back.
Am I about to get kidnapped?
I sense movement at the corner of my eye. Mom and dad are waving to me. There’s a woman standing in the doorway. She’s wearing a sharp pantsuit and glasses. Her hair is swept back in a black bun.
“Hi, my name is Jenny.” She signs deftly. “Is Yaya here?”
Dad swings around and pins me with awhat is going onstare.
Mom signs, “Yaya, do you have something you want to tell us?”
What exactly can I tell them when I have no idea what’s going on myself?
* * *
Jenny escorts me to the limo and the driver opens the door for me. He smiles when I get near and I smile back, but I’m only half-paying attention to him. My mind is busy thinking about mom and dad whobarelylet me leave the house after I made up an excuse about getting a ride from my modeling agency.
Now, my parents will think I’m a big shot model when, in truth, I still haven’t convinced my manager to book me in a serious fashion show.
I feel someone looking at me.
It’s the driver.
My heart leaps out of my chest when he lifts those beautiful crisp gloves and signs, “Nice to meet you. I’m José.”
I don’t realize I’m sinking until Jenny wraps an arm around my bicep. José lurches forward and grabs my other side. Shakily, I catch my bearings and signal to them that I’m okay.
José releases me, but Jenny still holds on as if she doesn’t believe I’ll be able to walk.
“You both know ASL?” I sign, incredulous.
José nods.
With the strength of someone twice her size, Jenny hustles me into the limo. I’m scooting in when I see it.
A breakfast bar.
Trays of daintily rolled sandwiches, cut strawberries and a tumbler of orange juice wait on the interior table.
I freeze, half my bum sticking out of the car while I’m bent over the seat.
Immediately, I back out.
He’s trying to poison me.
Jenny taps my shoulder to get my attention.
I twist around.
Her eyes are filled with concern. She signs worriedly, “Is something wrong?”
Yes! I’m being attacked with… kindness?
I inhale a deep breath, close my eyes, and find my emotional center.
Yaya, you’re being ridiculous.
