Chapter Thirty-Six
Aveline
MY PARENTS HAD left me alone and although I was unable to sleep, at least I didn’t have to answer their questions for a while. Mostly, I was numb. When Ricky finally unloaded the truth on me, I was left with whiplash, like I was jerked around from all angles, never knowing what would slam into me next.
Morning hit, and I stumbled down the stairs, pouring a mug of coffee and adding creamer. I watched the steam rise above the cup, evaporating into the air. I felt like that steam. I had to rise above the pain, but without Ricky, I feared I’d disappear.
Sipping the hot liquid, the sugar and caffeine settling in, I felt more focused and human than I had in days.
In reality, it had only been hours. Mere hours since I’d discovered the only man I had ever loved, one I had thought was too good for me all along, was only using me to get to my wealthy parents.
The mug hit the counter hard, coffee spilling over the side. I wheezed, gasping for air; my dark thoughts almost brought me to my knees.
Tobias brushed past me, his warm hair tickling my bare legs. March had the weather turning spring-like, and last night I’d worn shorts and a tank to bed.
“Hey buddy,” I cooed, petting him.
Standing up, my parents walked into the kitchen, heading straight to the coffee maker. I smiled a small, sad, lopsided grin as I grabbed a napkin to mop up my spilled coffee.
I brought my lukewarm cup to the kitchen table and sat down. I owed my parents an explanation for last night. I was grateful for the time and space they allowed me, but hell, I knew my mother. Time was, most certainly, up.
Dad and Mom sat across from me in their pajamas, a warm mug of coffee in each of their hands.
“I’m sorry about last night,” I started after I had their attention. “Mom, I told Ricky what you found out, and it’s all true. Getting money for his family was the only reason he paid any attention to me in the first place.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Ricky’s family is very poor. I’ve been to his apartment. Three kids in one bedroom, Dad is a quadriplegic. Ricky’s mom is on the cleaning staff at a low budget hotel,” I signed. “I learned all of this during a class project in that Psychology class. Ricky realized I was wealthy and he was mad at you two.” I paused, sipping my coffee and giving my hands a break from communicating so that my parents could drink too, processing my story.
“He was mad at us?” Mom asked, lips pursed.
My lips flattened. “He didn’t know you both are deaf. He was mad that you didn’t save me, and that his dad did. He felt that with all of your money, maybe you could help his mom out with his dad’s care. That you owed him that.”
Dad and Mom read my words and immediately faced each other, speaking with their eyes as only couples could. Super annoying to anyone that wasn’t part of a couple.
I banged the table with my hand, knowing they’d feel the vibration. When they looked my way, I asked, “What?”
Dad started off. “He’s not wrong. We’ve thought over the years that the person who saved you, if he lived, should be paid a reward. After all, he saved you. Our baby girl.”
I started to sign, but Mom jumped in. “Let us start by explaining a few things. A few days ago, when you and I had our disagreement about Ricky, I told you that we had our reasons for being overprotective. One was the text messages I was getting, demanding money. Last night, your father and I decided it was time you knew the rest.”
I looked back and forth between them, anxiety bubbling in my stomach, but their faces didn’t look distraught. Just determined.
“When I got pregnant with you, your father and I were about to graduate from university in France. We weren’t married and, obviously, both deaf. My family was furious, irate. Not for the reasons you think, but because they didn’t think two deaf parents could or should raise a child. My mother swore that we would harm you, neglect you. And if that happened, she vowed she would come and take you away.”
My eyes widened, mouth falling open.
“You know me. I’m a perfectionist. I’m a tough nut.” She smiled a rueful smile, self-deprecating, but also humorous. “And I’m absolutely nothing compared to my mother. From the day I discovered I was pregnant, I promised I would be as different from her as I could be. And I was. I still am, but at the start, I really, really was.”
She stopped signing, her eyes filling with tears.
Dad took over. “God, we were so happy before the accident. After the threats from your mom’s family about taking you, we married in secret in France and then up and moved as soon as we graduated. We picked Indiana, thinking it was almost the center of America and as tucked away from your grandmother as possible. We got jobs right away at the Indiana School for the Deaf and bought this house. The first years of your life were tough, but we managed, and we loved every second.”
Mom jumped in. “That day at the lake was like any other. Nothing stopped us. We traveled. We went to the zoo. We took you everywhere with us and we embraced our lives. That day we had a beautiful picnic, one you had helped me shop for. We’d brought paper and colored pencils, newspapers and magazines. We spread out food and sat on our blankets, sunshine pouring down on us. And for a moment, your father and I focused on each other to sign, and while communicating, lost track of you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. “It wasn’t until we saw the commotion that we realized you weren’t sitting with us. I’m so sorry. I failed you. I will never forgive myself.”
I got up, coming around to their side of the table. I kissed my mom’s cheeks, looking into her eyes. “I lived. It was an accident. Nothing for you to torture yourself over.”
Pulling a chair closer, I sat next to her, holding one of her hands as Dad spoke.
“It was all over the news. The reporters never got names, but everyone wanted us to talk and I’m sure they wanted Ricky’s family to talk. Now I know that the reason we both didn’t was a language barrier. Reporters couldn’t ask us questions in sign language, and Ricky’s family probably felt isolated, only speaking Spanish. But even if they could have, we would have never given an interview. If this news story traveled, there was a chance your grandmother would hear about it. Exactly what she had threatened us with. We were certain two deaf parents losing track of their hearing child at a lake, that child calling for help, and the parents being unable to hear those cries, would constitute as neglect to her. From that day forward, we lived in constant fear she would come for you.” Dad finished, sitting back and waiting for me to respond.
“That’s why you homeschooled me. That’s why you were so protective. You thought she was coming to fight for custody.” I deduced, signing slowly and methodically as my hands caught up with my rapid-fire thoughts.
“Always.” Mom signed, her weepy eyes settling on mine.
“And it’s why we didn’t fight harder to learn about the man that saved you,” Dad explained. “We couldn’t be sure that his family would keep this private. We couldn’t risk the media attention. We couldn’t risk you.”
I sat back in my chair, dragging in a few long breaths. So many things finally made sense.
“I have to admit something to you both, too.” Their eyes followed my fingers, moving up in an attempt to read my eyes. “I never told Ricky, not until last night, that you both are deaf.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other before looking at me. “Why not?” Mom asked.
I sat back in my chair, chewing on my bottom lip. “I don’t fully know. But I think, my whole life that is what defined me. I was the daughter of two amazing, strong, loving, deaf parents. I was raised in silence and that constant quiet resonated through my bones. I was afraid to say it too soon, like it would continue to define me into adulthood. But now, today, I’m proud. My whole life, I thought you were scared to live.” I stopped looking at both of them in the eye before finishing. “Now I realize that really, you’ve lived fully. Your only fear was of losing your dream. Me. Thank you for that. I get that. The loss of a dream is horrible.”
“Do you love Ricky?” Mom asked.
“I did,” I nodded. “Until he lied.”
Mom pursed her lips, studying me. “Your father and I talked about this last night. We’re still very angry with Ricky for what he put all of us through. But in a way, we understand what he did. We know what it’s like to be desperate to keep someone you love safe. He’s in a dire situation and we can only imagine the level of fear he has. Whether or not you can forgive him is all up to you.”
I swallowed, unable to speak so I nodded.
“No matter what happens between you two in the future, we want to help his father,” Dad signed.
I squinted one eye closed. “Help? How?”
Mom winced, her head bobbing back and forth, an a-ha moment was coming, I could tell. “I left one part out.”
I waited, perfectly impatient. My eyes like saucers and jaw dropped.
“We’re rich.” She signed and then waited.
“I know that.” I motioned to our home.
She shook her head. “No, my family. I have a trust. With many, many dollars.”
My jaw dropped. “What?” I signed.
She nodded, lips curving. “And so do you.”
My eyes bulged even more.
“My mother couldn’t touch my personal trust fund or yours. It’s legacy money from her parents. Here’s the information on what you have.” She reached into her robe and pulled out an envelope passing it to me. “Once you reached the age of twenty-one, it was officially yours. We waited to tell you because we didn’t think you were ready for the responsibility.”
I took it, swallowing hard and pulling in a deep breath. “And now you do?”
Mom nodded. “You have a job. You fell in love. You’ve navigated life on a college campus and made friends. You’re ready.”
Dad held up his pointer finger. “One more thing,”
My response was even wider, ‘what now’ eyes.
“Ricky lied. He was truly dishonest with all of us. But sometimes, just sometimes, the greatest lies come from a truth so encompassing it buries the bad and only the good emerges.” Dad stood, moving around the table and kissing my cheeks. He waited, hand extended for Mom.
She rose, and I did at the same time. We hugged, long and hard. We hugged apologies and explanations and promises for the future. We hugged love, pure and simple, so much I had enough to carry with me and give away.
Pulling away, my mom signed, “It’s up to you, Aveline, my breath of life. You choose your path. To forgive. To accept. To risk. To love.”
The choice was mine.