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Interpreter

Page 25

by Kristy Marie


  That’s when I let mine fall. I don’t even care that I’m in front of hundreds of people. All that matters is soaking up this moment. Allowing the love, the security, and the hope invade every inch of my soul. This is what it feels like to have hope. This is what Mami meant when she said there was something different about America. She didn’t know it at the time, but the word that she was looking for was hope. America is full of hope. I see that now, and even if I don’t get to stay here, I’ll have witnessed the magic of this country. And I will know I was part of its history tonight.

  Soon the crowd dies down and Tim turns, takes my and Oliver’s hands with more than determination in his eyes, and leads us to the piano. The crowd has returned to their seats, a still silence floating around us.

  And then he plays.

  Beautifully crafted, he taps out the notes to the Céline Dion song “Ashes,” something that Pe and Marcus suggested he play. Pe thought it told his story perfectly, and I agreed. And although my voice isn’t as high as Céline’s, Tim was able to rewrite the music to a key I could sing. It’s now deeper, a poetic feeling.

  On cue, I begin to sing, watching as the little boy in front of us stands tall and confident in front of hundreds. His tiny little hands sign as fast as he can while moving his body as I had once done for Tim at Magic Michelle’s. This moment is what dreams are made of. Three people who were misfits, who found themselves fighting their battles alone, managed to find one another and create something so beautiful and so real that it changed each of them.

  Oliver learned how to sign. He learned that he could still do and be anything his little heart wanted. Tim overcame his demons and realized he could still enjoy the things he loved. That life wasn’t about fitting into the perfect mold. People are different, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you don’t get the same life experiences as everyone else. And as for me, standing here, singing with every breath, I realize that I did achieve my goal. I wanted to be that woman at the hospital. I wanted to make a difference. Standing here with these two boys, I know I accomplished that. Except, they helped me too. These boys changed my heart. They gave me something to believe in. They made working at a school so much more than just a job.

  They gave me a family.

  They filled my heart with love.

  And I know that when I leave them, I will be devastated. But at least I got to experience it, right?

  As the piano grows softer and Oliver’s hands slow, my voice lowers. The song is ending as fast as it began. The lights lower as my voice trails off and the curtain closes. Tim’s chest is heaving, and Oliver is bent over in a bow. I take Tim’s quivering hands, and he stands. He doesn’t smile; he just leads me to the little boy at the front of the stage and wraps us both in his strong arms.

  “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

  Tim’s family surrounds him and Oliver as soon as we exit the stage. The crowd was so loud after we took a bow. We were the final performance of the night, and Ms. Peak’s tear-streaked face told us that we nailed it. She hugged each of us and threatened to hunt Tim down if he ever missed a practice with her. He only nodded, and I assumed he was still very much overwhelmed with everything. After learning of his past, I can only imagine the thoughts running through his head right now. I can’t wait until I can get him alone and check on him.

  “You were brilliant out there tonight.” I turn and see Cal, his arms full of roses. “My grandma says flowers are the customary gift after a performance.”

  I look back and see Tim still engrossed with his family and give Cal a hesitant smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything though.”

  Cal looks almost shy as he rubs at his chin. “I wanted to. You were really great out there. Look, Milah, I know it’s none of my business and we already had our shot, but…”

  Oh no. Please don’t ask me out or make things awkward.

  “But I overheard Felipe telling Marcus that if Tim didn’t pull his head out of his ass and marry you, that he would. Is this because of your visa? Did the school not offer you another position?”

  I whip around and make sure Tim isn’t focused on us. He isn’t; he’s watching Oliver sign to Aspen and grinning as if life couldn’t be more perfect than it is right now.

  “Felipe was teasing,” I lie. I’m sure that’s exactly what Pe said, but the fact is, it doesn’t matter now. I won’t let either of them marry me to keep me here. If I find a job, great. If I don’t, I’ll go back home. There is nothing wrong with making a difference in my own country. I will just miss the family I leave behind here.

  “Milah, marry me. I will marry you. I know we broke up, but I’ve never stopped loving you. Please, let me do this for you.”

  I’m already shaking my head, ready to let him down gently, when the harsh words, “Did he ask to marry you? Is that what he said?” ring out loud and clear behind me.

  Fucking Cal and his big mouth. This was so not the time to have this talk.

  Tim’s family goes quiet as I turn around and find Tim’s fists clenching at his waist. I shove past Cal, ignoring his lame-ass apology. What was he thinking asking me to marry him? And here of all places! Why now? We haven’t been together in forever, and now he’s all concerned about me leaving? Is he jealous? Is that what this shitshow is about? He thought… well, I don’t know what he thought. Apparently, he wasn’t thinking.

  I toss down the flowers and stop a few inches from Tim.

  “What does he mean, ‘marry you,’ Milah? What is going on?”

  My heart aches as Tim’s tone suggests that he’s concerned Cal and I are having an affair. Not the truth that I’m losing my job and moving back home, and Cal thought he could come to my rescue. I should have told him a long time ago. Okay, fine, I should have told him at the beginning of the year. Before we kissed. Before we made love. Before we fell in love.

  But I didn’t.

  Because I am a big damn chicken.

  I wanted to tell him—sometimes—I did, but the timing was off. And that pesky little love bug bit me and I tried finding jobs that would keep me here with them. It wasn’t until today that I realized I was going back home to Costa Rica, whether I disagreed or not. My time in the States is over.

  I chance a look at Pe, maybe for a little boost of confidence, but his face is one of horror. Even he cringes about what’s in store for me. Tim has the right to be mad. He has a right to yell at me. But for some reason, him yelling isn’t what is going to crush me the most.

  The loss of hope is what will devastate me the most.

  “When you were hired,” I swallow, “I had just been told the day before that my position was being eliminated at the end of the school year.” I go for a smile and add, “It was the reason I had smelled of alcohol the day we met.” And he thought I was a stripper.

  “But they offered you another job, right?” Tim takes stock of the faces around us. They’re all grim. Yeah, no shiny new position for me.

  “Uh… no. They didn’t. I’ve been looking the entire semester, and apart from being a sucky bartender at Magic Michelle’s, I don’t have any other possibilities.”

  Tim looks at Pe. “You offered her the job?”

  My lighthearted, crazy Felipe holds Tim’s hard gaze, and with no humor, he tattles, “I did. She turned it down.”

  The glare Tim sends my way is super harsh. “Come on,” I reason. “It’s a drag bar. I would bring down the mood with my straight self.” I look at Pe and flash him a sad smile. “Besides Marcus mans the bar. Pe can’t afford another employee.”

  He really can’t, and the tear that falls from Pe’s eye proves it. Felipe is my soul sister. I’m going to miss him like I’ll miss my mint M&M’s, but I couldn’t take his business down by adding a financial strain and forcing another salary on him. I appreciated the offer, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I knew my being there caused him to struggle.

  So, I turned him down.

  It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but I had good i
ntentions. If Felipe were in my shoes—let’s be real, sometimes he squeezes into them—he would do the same for me. That’s the thing about dreams—when they become a reality, losing them is devastating.

  “So, you’re just going to leave?” His voice raises, and the room quiets at his commanding tone. “You were what? Going to send me a postcard or text when you landed?”

  Yeah, so he’s not taking this well. Of course, I knew he wouldn’t, and I was going to tell him—after today. He needed time to focus on this concert. He had so many stressors that I didn’t want to add to them.

  I sigh, tugging at the beautiful gown that makes me feel like a princess. “I was going to tell you after this concert. I didn’t want anything to affect you or have you backing out of this performance. You needed to focus.”

  His laugh is bitter, and it immediately hurts my feelings. Tim and I won’t recover from this, I can tell. I betrayed him in the worst way. He opened up to me and confessed all his secrets, and I only gave him half of me. He won’t understand that I tried to find another job. I wanted to be able to say, “Hey! Guess what? I got a new job!” I didn’t want to tell him that I was being sent back home.

  “Because that’s all that matters. That I do what everyone wants me to do.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Okay, so he can take that shitty attitude and shove it.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Milah! Because you’ve been lying this whole time.”

  “I haven’t been lying,” I plead, a few tears slipping down my cheeks. “I swear. I wanted to tell you.”

  But it’s no use begging. I can see him already shutting down. The new Tim is gone.

  Radio host: So, tell me about this surgery you’re taking a break for.

  Penelope: Well, my doctor said that my condition is genetic. The bones in my inner ear no longer vibrate.

  Radio host: And this surgery corrects your hearing loss?

  Penelope: Essentially. I don’t know much about it, but I’m done living in silence.

  Radio host: How does your son feel about it?

  Penelope: He’s nervous, as am I. But like I told him, music is my life. I can’t live without it. Being deaf these past two years has been the worst heartbreak I’ve ever endured.

  Radio host: So, you’re willing to do anything to get it back?

  Penelope: I am. I believe the surgery will work and I will be back singing my own music in record time.

  Radio host: I hope so. You have a ton of fans waiting for your next album.

  Penelope: I know. And I want them to know that if it wasn’t for them and all their love, I wouldn’t have gotten through this. Their outpouring of support has been instrumental in my fight.

  Marry her!

  He asked to goddamned marry her so she wouldn’t have to leave the country. Are you fucking shitting me? How did I not know this? I’ve been with her every day for the entire school year, and I miss this critical piece of information?

  Fuck this. “I see. And you thought, what? That you couldn’t confide in me after everything I shared with you?”

  I feel betrayed. Goddamned betrayed. Everything, all the milestones, all the walls I brought down and this is what I get. “What was I? A lab rat? Another pet project? A broken toy for you to fix and resell?”

  A tear streaks down her cheek, taking the makeup with it. “No. You were never a project.”

  I scoff. “Sure, I wasn’t. I was just—” I face my brother, a haunted look on his face. “What is it you used to tell me, Hayes? When you were trying to convince me to crawl the clubs with you? Women love a broken man?” My gaze goes back to Milah who stands, wobbling in her heels. “Congratulations, you’ve met your goal. You got me to play. To Speak.” A tortured rumble leaves my chest. “You got me to love. You were everything to me. I was the patient in that hospital you told me about. And you were my interpreter. I trusted you. I leaned on you.” I feel the breath bubble up before I roar. “I loved you!”

  Cade puts a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough for tonight. I think it’s best we all go home and cool off. You two can discuss it tomorrow.”

  I watch the last tear I’ll ever see on Milah’s face plunging onto her dress. “There is no tomorrow, right, Ms. Iglesias?”

  And then I turn around and walk the fuck out. “Don’t follow me,” I bark out to my family. I can already feel them behind me.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the parking lot, but when I see headlights, I know it’s been long enough for them to find me. Granted, they probably found me hours ago but let me have some peace before someone came for me. Except the person climbing into my passenger seat and turning on the cabin lights is not my family.

  “Go home, Dr. Parker.”

  He’s like a fucking gnat, always buzzing around my head.

  “You go home,” he says, opening my glove box just to be fucking nosy.

  “I don’t want to go home yet.” My words are clipped as I stare at the black lettering on his door, spelling out: Dr. Parker, Ph.D.

  “So, you sought out my office?” His grin almost earns him a shove out of the car. “I haven’t been able to get you to come to an appointment in years without calling Anniston.”

  He wants me to admit that his annoying visits and calls are comforting to me.

  “I ran out of gas,” I lie.

  Dr. Parker’s laugh shakes the whole car. “You are such an asshole,” he signs along with his words. “You better be glad the foundation pays me well to deal with your shit.”

  I shake my head reluctantly, feeling a little better.

  “You want to go in and talk? Maybe get something to drink?”

  I shake my head at his offer. “I’m not in the mood for your helpful tidbits.”

  But I am.

  I want answers. I want him to tell me why I’m feeling this way. Why Milah betrayed me. Why I feel angry for enjoying myself up there onstage tonight. I want—

  He snaps his fingers in front of my face. “I’m taking it from your grip on the steering wheel that you’re lying.”

  Immediately, I slide my hands off the wheel and tuck them under my thighs.

  “You played brilliantly tonight,” he notes. “Your mother would have been proud.”

  “Would have been are the choice words there,” I answer bitterly, and he ignores it, as usual.

  “How did you feel playing in front of a crowd?”

  I shrug. “Sick? Alive? Like I was someone else tonight.”

  “Like you were Timaeus Lambros?” His eyes are knowing.

  “Yes, I guess so.” I’ll let him have this one admission. Just one time knowing he’s right and a decent therapist and… friend.

  “I’d forgotten what a rush it was playing in front of an audience,” I admit. I can’t remember the last time I played for a crowd. It had to be in college.

  “Did it make you want to play more often?”

  I shrug and then lower my gaze to my pants and whisper, “It made me want to hear.”

  I don’t look up to see if Dr. Parker is speaking or signing. Something tells me he’s letting this confession seep through the cabin of my car, saturating the surfaces with a true statement. Something I would never have admitted to myself if it hadn’t been for her making me feel again.

  After a few minutes, I look up and see Dr. Parker just watching, waiting patiently like he always does. “What was different about tonight than when you play with Ms. Peak?”

  It’s a good question. One that I don’t know that I have the answer to. Unless… “It wasn’t just tonight.” Fuck. I’m really fucking doing this. I’m handing Dr. Parker the trophy. The bastard won. “It was every day since I met her… and him.”

  “Milah and Oliver?” he supplies, and I nod.

  “Yes. From the first day that I met her, I wanted to hear her sharp tongue and quick wit. Did you know she basically came to America with dreams of being like you?” I smirk and make a face like it’s disgusting. “I knew s
he was crazy then, but that didn’t stop me from falling in love with her. And then Oliver came along….” My gaze holds Dr. Parker’s. “He looked at me like I was his savior—his hero. He looked at me like he finally wasn’t alone anymore.”

  I examine the leather on the steering wheel, needing a distraction. “I couldn’t let him down. I couldn’t let him become me. I wanted—” I swallow. “I want so much more for him.”

  Sighing and feeling ten pounds of heaviness release from my chest, I press back into the seat. “For the first time in years, I didn’t want to just muddle through. I wanted to live with them.”

  I stare out into the midnight skies. “You were right. I was stuck. But you….” My voice grows angry as Cal’s face flashes in my head. “But you just had to push me. Had to show me what I was missing. And now it’s gone! It’s all fucking gone, and I’m right back at square one. Is this what you wanted? Was it worth it to prove your point? Why couldn’t you just let me be?” My voice quivers in my chest as anger takes over. I know it’s not Dr. Parker’s fault, but I was happy-ish. I was living. I wasn’t in this much pain. I didn’t yearn for things. Not like this.

  “Tell me how it’s gone, Tim.”

  I shake my head and bark out a bitter laugh. “You were there. You heard her. She’s moving back to Costa Rica after Christmas Break.” I look at the watch on my hand. “That’s a week from now, if you need an exact date.”

  Dr. Parker’s face never wavers. If I’ve upset him, he isn’t going to lose his cool. Not today. “This new life of yours isn’t just about Milah. You told me it was a little bit of everything—Ms. Peak, Oliver, your family, the job, and Milah. I know it was under unfortunate circumstances how you met, but that doesn’t mean when she leaves you are left with nothing. You still have all those pieces of your life. Milah was only part of the equation.”

 

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