Talk to Me (A Love Story in Any Language)

by Pat Simmons

  Mackenzie’s kiss, our kiss. God help me, each one was getting better and better. I couldn’t last much longer. Friday morning, I over slept just thinking and dreaming about it.

  The truth was I had accidentally set my bed shaker on low. Instead of throwing me overboard, its slight vibration lulled me to sleep.

  After the kiss, Mackenzie and I stayed up into the early morning hours, exchanging text messages.

  Noel, do you really love me?

  Yes. I waited for her declaration. After two minutes, I was still waiting. My heart sunk, but I understood she needed to reconcile her feelings.

  I was about to text her good night when my BlackBerry vibrated in my hand.

  Goodnight. O, BTW, I love you, too.

  Who wouldn’t sleep deep after that? That was my problem the next morning. I slept too well. I rushed through my morning prayer, substituted my jog for fifty pushups, and skipped breakfast. I didn’t make an appearance at PRESERVE-St. Louis until mid-morning.

  I stopped at my assistant’s desk for messages. Cranking her neck, she studied me. “What?” I asked annoyed.

  “Mr. Richardson, who dressed you this morning?”

  “What? What’s wrong with you? The same person who dresses me every morning—me.” I jabbed my thumb into my chest.

  Nodding, she stood. “You missed a few buttons.”

  Looking down, I groaned. “I knew that.” Agitated and grouchy, I stormed away toward my office. I flung my overcoat on a chair and missed. Making no attempt at recovering it, I stepped over it as I headed to my desk.

  I unbuttoned and re-buttoned my shirt. My computer must’ve been asleep because it took three tries before I was able to boot the computer. I was going to get someone from the IT department to take a look later.

  Finally connected, I went straight to my personal email before the agency’s email accounts. Twenty messages were crammed in my inbox. Most were about the annual deaf activities that I had completely forgotten about. As I clicked to open the first one, Pierce flashed an instant message.

  What’s up? You’ve been untouchable, unreachable, and avoidable for days. Still going strong with the interpreter?

  I am, I typed back as another instant message popped up.

  I missed the twelve days before Christmas this year. There’s only two left. What do you want for Christmas? My mother interceded.

  I couldn’t believe it. It was a well-known fact among my family that Gina Richardson didn’t start her holiday shopping before or after December 12th so this wasn’t the norm. It’s as if the stores had marked down specials for one day with her name on them.

  Momma, whatever you want to give is fine.

  Pierce resumed his interrogation: Are you sure about her?

  My brother had a one-track mind when it came to attaining information. My brother’s mannerisms were predictable. He was probably rubbing the back of his neck while formulating his next question.

  Not long ago, Pierce was on the top of his game when it came to dissecting plaintiffs’ testimonies. His questions were face value. Pierce was always role-playing the devil’s advocate when it came to my best interests.

  Caleb’s message box conveniently kept me from answering. How does she look? His presence meant we were only one member shy of a family affair. The family circle always formed when I didn’t check in for a while.

  Is she saved, Noel, really saved? Pierce retrieved the conversation.

  It wasn’t a surprise when my dad let his presence be known, Make sure she is, Noel, and take your time. Remember you can talk or sign to me about anything, son.

  I would love to meet your interpreter. Bring her over to the house for Christmas, my mom’s message demanded as she bumped Caleb’s incomplete message box off the screen.

  Listen, you heard me knocking. Gertrude Penelope Richardson, my paternal grandmother, typed once I let her into the discussion.

  Grandma, I’m deaf, remember? I can’t hear anything.

  Humph! You should be more observant while you’re logged on to this thing, Grandma scolded.

  Yes, Madam.

  Momma pressed: Back to Mackenzie.

  Pierce: Yes, back to Mackenzie.

  I’ll ask her, but I don’t want you all jumping to conclusions, I warned.

  Pierce: Noel, I’ll catch up with you later. It’s too crowded in this closet. I’m out of here. Love everybody. Poof.

  Grandma: Anyway, maybe I should get McKinley a gift, too. I have plenty of birthday and Christmas gifts left over from last year that I can recycle.

  Noel knew her mind was gearing up for a monologue about what presents she would never use. If she took her Aleve this morning that meant her arthritic fingers could fly across the keyboard for hours. I’d try to correct her about Mackenzie’s name later.

  Dad: Mother, don’t move faster than Noel. I’m just glad a woman of God has captured his attention. Noel, after you get to know her, then we all would like that opportunity. And, mother, our son says her name is Mackenzie, not McKinley,

  Grandma: It’s BigMoma, Richard. BigMoma!

  I’m out of here, too. Love you. Talk to everybody soon, I pushed send and signed out of my AOL account. I loved my mother and grandma, but there were two things I learned about instant messaging with them.

  The first was if they typed more than two sentences, they were on a roll. They viewed the advanced technology as a telephone call, prepared to type back and forth for hours. The second thing was that I’d always forget until it happened next time.

  With my head spinning, I took a deep breath. I stood and walked to where my coat was sprawled across the floor. Reaching down, I yanked my hand back when something began to move under it. I leaped, recalling one of my employees mentioning seeing a rodent, but I was sure I had taken care of that problem.

  My coat wasn’t new, but I didn’t have a problem getting rid of it in the process of terminating a pest. I was stomping on my coat when Keshon from the mailroom walked by.

  “I heard you grunting, Mr. Richardson, and I came to investigate. Why are you stepping on your cell phone? I think it’s vibrating.” Without waiting for an answer, he moved two paces and swiped my coat. Digging inside my pocket, he handed me my BlackBerry.

  In my haste this morning, I forgot to clip it on my waist belt. “Thank you, Keshon.” As he turned to leave, I saw a smile plastered on his face. I didn’t give him the privilege. I laughed first. Keshon turned back and joined me.

  I checked the two messages, Pierce: I meant what I said. Fast and pray about Mackenzie. The man gave a new meaning to bulldog.

  The other was from Mackenzie: Noel, I’m remembering our kiss, your words, my words, and where is my morning scripture? I’m praying you have a blessed day.

  A cocky grin appeared on its own. “Take that, Pierce Richardson.” I chuckled before I began to tackle one request after another awaiting my approval.

  When I glanced up, I wasn’t surprised to see Lana lingering near my office, but she never came in. “You’re late.”

  “I am.” I leaned back in my seat and watched the emotions play across Lana’s face. “But I sign the paychecks.” I dismissed her and God convicted me on the spot.

  My abbreviated day was business as usual, but before I left, I asked Lana to come to my office. “Have a seat.”

  She did.

  “Lana, I’m sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t mean to come off as harsh and insensitive of your feelings. I love you as a friend, but remember two things. No, three. I’m the boss first and I keep track of my own schedule, and we’re friends second. Outside of work, we’re friends always first and last.”

  “You’re right, Noel.”

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER 18

  God wasn’t happy with me, and He let me know about it as He pushed me out of bed. “Time is running out, Noel. Valerie’s soul is at stake. She needs to make a change,” He spoke clearly to my spirit.

  “God, when is the right time?”

  I
threw the ball back in God’s court, hopefully letting me off the hook for the time being.

  One hour later, I returned from my morning run, showered, and dressed for my only Christmas shopping day on Christmas Eve.

  Macy’s was my one-stop shopping place for my family and staff—gift certificates. I had to be more selective for Mackenzie’s gift. Nordstrom came to mind.

  I had no idea what I was looking for when I browsed through the clothing racks. I was sure Mackenzie had perused a Harris Communications catalog that catered to the Deaf culture for my gift. It’s not as if she could’ve picked that up in the grocery check-out line. She did her homework. She deserved no less consideration.

  I was not a shopper and I didn’t want to be one. I was about to leave when some hurried shoppers jostled me near a glass case. With all the glitter and gold decorations throughout the store, I don’t know how a splinter of a sparkle got my attention, but something in that case winked at me, beckoning me closer.

  Leather gloves. How exciting. I examined them anyway—black, brown, red, blue, white. Some were trimmed in fur, and then I did a double take. I had never seen gloves trimmed in …diamonds?

  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the exquisite items. I imagined Mackenzie’s slender, manicured hand appreciating the warmth of fur. As I continued my scrutiny, a chipped red fingernail blocked my view.

  Aggravated, I glanced up and stared into the face of a tired and agitated sales clerk. “Can I help you? Do you want to buy anything?”

  Straightening my frame, I towered over her. I didn’t care how many customers she waited on before me, I deserved a smile for the amount of money I could dish out. I pointed to the black gloves.

  She inserted a key to unlock the case then gently lifted the gloves from the carefully stacked pile. Reverently, she placed the merchandise on the counter before me.

  A thin piece of paper floated out as I studied the merchandise: One-hundred percent Italian silk-lined black Lambskin leather women's gloves with embedded Swarovski jewelry.

  “How much?”

  Her answer was indistinguishable, but it didn’t matter. I reached into my back pants pocket for my wallet and Visa Card. As she took my card, I refocused on Mackenzie’s gift, brushing my fingers against the crystal bits.

  I signed the receipt without bothering to look at my total. Patiently, she wrapped the purchase in tissue paper before putting it inside a long box.

  “Do you want me to gift wrap this?”

  Didn’t she just do that? I nodded. She meticulously taped gold-foiled paper around the box. Still not finished, the woman considered her handiwork before reaching for a strip of red velvet ribbon that she manipulated into a bow. Putting it in a bag, she handed it to me with a smile.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Taking my purchase, I headed out the store. Glanced at my receipt, I chuckled. No wonder I got a smile. The gloves were $300? I remembered to breathe then smile.

  Mackenzie was worth every dollar. I wondered if I should have the gloves insured before handing them over. I didn’t care about the money with Mackenzie, only my heart.

  ***

  That night, after the stores had closed early for Christmas Eve, the church’s parking lot resembled the mall. Only coveted handicap spots were available. From a distance, I saw a space someone apparently overlooked. Inching closer, I saw why it was vacant. A Navigator bullied itself over the line.

  I considered the scenario. I would be like a bear escaping from a cage, manipulating my muscles as I held my breath until I was freed. I’m sure I would rip off a couple of buttons from my suit jacket in the process. My tailor would have a fit at the thought of abusing fabric.

  The next insurmountable task would be to scoot between my car and the SUV without using my coat as a polishing cloth. Nah, I kept driving.

  Finally, I did find a spot at the very end of the lot. My strides were wide as my excitement built to see the pageantry Mackenzie helped orchestrate for the church’s musical, the Night of Miracles.

  Once inside the vestibule, the doors to the sanctuary were propped open for an easy entrance. Mesmerized, I crossed over the threshold. The already beautiful sanctuary was transformed into a majestic playhouse, and the new setting seemed to spill into the hall as if the splendor couldn’t be contained.

  The lighting gave the illusion that the pews had shrunk. Nick bumped into me as I walked in, admiring the changes. The transformation had the Mackenzie touch.

  “You don't need any interpretation. Everybody knows the story of Christ's birth,” he said, suggesting in another section where we would be three rows from the makeshift stage.

  Agreeing, I shook off my coat and followed him. I knelt to pray then sat and rested my coat and Bible beside me. Stretching my legs, I had just thanked an usher for a program of the night’s performance when Nick tapped me on my arm.

  “You know I’m in love with her,” Nick said, his expression serious.

  “Who?”

  I followed the direction of his stargazed eyes—Valerie.

  I was about to say good luck, but thought better of it. Then I reconsidered. The brother needed to know what he was getting into. “She’s a piece of work.”

  Nick blew out a deep breath. “Don’t I know it, but God knows it, too. She doesn’t know that the man she’s searching for is right in front of her. I’m waiting, watching, and praying for God to not only speak to her, but give Val the mind to see what God has in store for her.”

  He grinned and nudged me. “You and Mackenzie can’t be the only happy couple in church.”

  I wished Nick’s confession was an answer to my prayers and could possibly deliver Valerie’s tormented soul. The lights dimmed to my relief. I didn’t want to talk or think about Valerie until it was necessary.

  For the next hour, I lip-read some of the songs. When those around me put their hands together, I mimicked them. When their bodies shook with laughter, I laughed, knowing I had clearly missed the amusement.

  Besides the magnificent wardrobe, the live animals, and a borrowed baby Jesus. I remembered the night Mackenzie gave me a tour of a theatre. I recalled the terms for each special effect, but Mackenzie achieved the illusion of iridescent stars that illuminated the ceiling. Scenes changed when the wall moved like a revolving door.

  A childlike angel appeared. Instead of descending, he was unrolled like a yo-yo almost to the floor, but his feet never touch the stage. I wiggled my fingers in the air as others clapped, grinning. Mackenzie had her fingerprints all over that stunt.

  Midway into the play, Nick elbowed me twice, blowing his breath in my ear. When I didn’t respond, he nudged me again. Finally, I shoved him back, irritated “What, man?”

  “She doesn’t know I exist.”

  I shouldn’t have sat next to Nick. I was trying to concentrate on the play. Plus, I had no encouraging words forthcoming. Taking the hint, he turned back to the stage.

  The production ended forty-five minutes later. The audience gave the cast and crew a standing ovation as each bowed once they were introduced. I don’t know how she located me in the audience, but Mackenzie spotted me before gracing everyone with a radiant smile. The audience waved programs in the air as wonder still danced in their eyes.

  Afterwards, some people rushed home to finish wrapping gifts. They weren’t missed. The fellowship hall swelled with people who wanted to congratulate cast members who stood in a receiving line, soaking up the accolades bestowed on them. Mackenzie’s smile was brighter than bleached sheets. Amazingly, between handshakes and hugs, she stole glances my way as I waited on the sidelines.

  Eventually, she made her way to me and stopped. Her eyes told me what she wanted, a hug not meant for onlookers. As my nostrils flared and I bit my bottom lip, I conveyed with my stare that I knew what she wanted and I wouldn’t disappoint her. You were wonderful. You are truly a talented woman.

  I know.

  Tweaking her nose, I laughed. I reached for her hand. “You sassy woman, th
e correct answer is thank you.” She playfully bumped me as we headed for light refreshments at the tables, which included holiday “treats.”

  As the crowd thinned, Mackenzie’s high strung energy began to fizzle. We strolled to a side room where the crew stored their belongings. Mackenzie gathered her purse and I assisted her with her coat.

  After she buttoned the last button, I took her Bible and escorted her to her car. I spied Nick vying for Valerie’s affections, but she was too distracted, watching us. I had to get the showdown over with Valerie, so she could move on.

  Outside, with the exception of about ten or so vehicles, the parking lot was deserted. At Mackenzie’s car, we stared at each other until I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked around for bystanders then I stole a hug and relaxed contented. I removed my gloves and held her cold hands, thinking about her gift. “Where are your gloves?”

  She responded with an embarrassing smirk then batted her eyes. “I lost them.”

  I stored that information. Although my hands weren’t much warmer, I stroked her fingers. “The National Black Deaf Advocates is sponsoring a holiday party the day after Christmas. Come with me.” I wasn’t asking.

  Her eyes filled disappointment. “I can’t.”

  Stay calm. I dared my face to reveal anything—nothing.

  “I have to pack.”

  “Excuse me?” I lifted my brow.

  “Chicago, I’m going the day after Christmas.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Chicago? She had to be kidding me. I would give her back the Rubik Cube in exchange for her presence. I was seconds away from initiating an argument on the church’s parking lot.

  This was our first Christmas together and I felt as if I should have precedence over any of her previous plans. To keep that argument at bay, I denied myself, and Mackenzie a kiss. I prayed with her, held open her car door, then got in my car. Minutes later, we drove off the parking lot and went our separate ways home.

  I was ashamed that on Christmas morning I was still fuming while shaving—a bad combination. That must have been the same Chicago visit Valerie was fervently praying for under the guise of benefitting Mackenzie.