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Talk to Me (A Love Story in Any Language)

Page 17

by Pat Simmons


  Since that day in the church parking lot, Mackenzie and I had reconciled that we would allow God to direct our paths through prayer and more scripture reading. This commitment came after we kissed and made up.

  One Friday night, after we placed our orders at the Pasta House, we munched on breadsticks. When Mackenzie gave me an angelic expression, I knew she was concocting something.

  “Noel, I was thinking.”

  I shook my head. Here we go again. Mackenzie was trying to negotiate something.

  “Hear me out.” She grinned. “Sorry, figure of speech. Come to my classroom. Talk to my students about contributing factors that lead to hearing loss. Tell them what it’s like to be deaf. You and I could demonstrate sign language communication. I’m sure Moses would like to see you.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  I chewed on a lump of breadstick and then swallowed. Why did I feel we were going down a path of resistance, and Mackenzie was somehow getting her way? Was this what she considered a common ground? I’m sure any resistance on Mackenzie’s part thrilled Mr. Norton.

  Mr. Norton. Since that last incident, he seemed never to be at home when I arrived. I refused to bow to his intimidation. Mackenzie didn’t offer any explanations for his absence, and I didn’t inquire. “Is it too much to ask for spending time in my quiet world?”

  “Maybe,” she surprisingly signed back either in a challenge or a tease.

  I wasn’t going to let her bait me. Fuming, I bit off a bigger piece of bread then another without swallowing the first piece. I kept biting and chewing it until I nipped my finger, signaling the bread was gone. It was the only way to keep my mouth from speaking and hands from signing.

  When our waitress slid our salads in front of us, I thanked her and bowed my head and silently blessed our food. Tell a woman you love her, and she starts working your patience, then I recalled James 1:4: ‘But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.’

  There was that scripture again. I really did love her. I prayed we could get past this spiritual roadblock.

  I stabbed at my salad without responding. When our meals arrived, I squinted at Mackenzie. She slid her spaghetti in front of her and ate with gusto. I wondered if this Holy Ghost-filled woman would always drive me crazy.

  “Listen beautiful, thanks for the invitation, but I won’t be coming to your school any time before you accompany me to one of my Deaf events. I mean that, Mackenzie.”

  The night went downhill from there. For two days, I questioned if I had been too demanding, too hard on her, too anything. I couldn’t shake the look of hurt that had flashed across her face.

  Minutes after my referendum, she chanced a wounded glance at me. She didn’t cry, but her eyes were glazed. Man, why did God create women to be sugar and spice and everything to drive a man crazy?

  Reaching for her hand, I brushed a kiss in her palm, but I still stood by my edict. I wasn’t bending to her will.

  At work, I was miserable. My employees noticed my irritability and kept their distance. The light flashed, alerting me that someone was at my office doorway. I ceased drawing meaningless shapes on a pad of paper and looked up. Lana stood there, waiting for an invitation. I waved her to come in, but she didn’t take a seat.

  “Noel Richardson, I don’t know why I’m saying this, or if she’s worth it, but you need to make a decision and then stick with it. If she truly wants a relationship with you, she better run to home plate or some other woman is going to call her out. That goes the same for you. Remember that.” She walked out my office.

  Women, I thought. I love them. Since I was basically unproductive, I cleared my desk. Like a robot, I shut down my computer, switched off the lights in my office and stopped by my assistant’s desk. “I’m out of here for the rest of the day.”

  “I hope you enjoy the rest of the day,” She signed back.

  Next, I detoured to Lana’s office. She signed for the interpreter on the plasma screen, who was facilitating a video conference call, to pause. She glanced at me.

  “Thanks.” I winked.

  Nodding, she winked back and went back to her video conference call.

  Driving to Mackenzie’s school, I tried to prepare an “I’m sorry that I’m an idiot” speech. Once there, I followed the procedure and headed to the office to sign in.

  When the same woman from before saw me, she quickly applied lip gloss and puckered her lips. Women, I thought again, smirking. “I know the way unless you have to escort me every time.”

  Her shoulders slumped as she gave me a badge, picked up a phone, and waved me on. Outside Mackenzie’s classroom door, I was poised to knock, but froze. Dumbfounded, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Mackenzie’s class was communicating in simple sign language phrases. It wasn’t ASL, but ESL, the English signing. Students are forced to sign each word that is spoken, instead of using shortcuts or slang.

  If my leg was long enough, I would’ve kicked myself. The woman loved me and supported me, despite my arrogance. Opening the door, I met her eyes and signed “sorry”. Her students’ arms flagged the air as they shouted, “He says he’s sorry, Miss Norton.”

  She faced her class again, signing, “I know.” Mackenzie wiggled her fingers in the air and they followed. “Okay class, you have a five-minute recess. Hurry.” Two boys nearly tripped, trying to beat the girls out the room. I don’t know where they were going, and I didn’t care.

  Cautiously, I walked into the room, even though Mackenzie hadn’t bid me to enter. I reached out and touched her cheek. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Her finger touched her lips to silence me.

  Maybe it was her magnetism or my guilt for acting like a jerk, but I knew I couldn’t love her any deeper. I knelt. “Marry me.”

  It was her turn to stroke my cheek. I sniffed the faint scent of her sweet hand lotion before she signed. “Noel Richardson, if you think I’m going to accept a proposal in my classroom, in the middle of recess, think again.”

  I exhaled. My baby was back, attitude and all. Mackenzie reigned, and I would let her because I liked her just like that.

  “If and when you ask me to marry you, again, I want the whole nine yards, music, whether you can hear it or not. Dinner—Denny’s isn’t an option— and you do have to ask my father for permission, so you better work that part out. Some women get proposed to once. You get two chances with me.”

  I chuckled, afraid that my laughter of joy would shake the school. She had become my heart, and it couldn’t pump without her. Mr. Norton wouldn’t stop me. “Yes, Madam.”

  “Good. Now, get off your knees because your friend, Moses, is coming. I’m sure you don’t want him to see you in such a subjective position.”

  “Why are they signing?”

  “For an educated, successful entrepreneur, Noel, you’re clueless. During the month of January, everyday, I’ve incorporated into the curriculum two hours of communication by signing only. It’s not about me all the time, sometimes it’s about you. I’m doing it because I love you.”

  She always knew how to get to me, saying all the right words. Smirking, I bowed to the queen. As her students filed in, I knew my time was up. “Dinner?”

  “Will it be a silent supper?”

  “Definitely.”

  Mackenzie signed “Yes,” then addressed her classroom to stop talking and sign.

  Walking out the building, I pumped both my arms in the air in victory. I still wanted to kick myself.

  CHAPTER 26

  January’s bitter cold temperatures didn’t stop our dating marathon. She even decided to skip taking classes for the winter schedule. Mackenzie kept pace with my Deaf-related activities without one complaint.

  Whenever I picked Mackenzie up for a date, I always inquired about her father’s whereabouts. I wanted him to know I wasn’t backing down to get to know him. On the last weekend in January, Mr. Norton surprised me when he answered the door.

  His staunch
expression was set baked cookie dough, but my determination was covered by a spiritual breastplate geared for battle. What threw me off was his signing a greeting and bidding me entrance.

  “Good evening, Mr. Norton,” I signed back as if it was normal between us, disguising my shock.

  I knew it was too soon to say Hallelujah. Once inside the living room, he turned his back to me. I excused his lack of proper deaf etiquette. When he sat on the sofa, I followed because honestly, I didn’t expect two invitations in one day.

  We eyed each other, daring to see who would cower first. Mackenzie briefly made an appearance. “Hi, Noel. I’ll be ready in a minute.” She blew me a kiss and disappeared. As her father and I resumed our macho standoff, I suspected this was a Mackenzie setup.

  “Don’t get too use to this. I’m not taking any deaf classes. I’m only doing this to appease my daughter. She seems to think you’re worth something. Personally, I know you’re a waste of her time. Like the others, I don’t expect you to stick around that long,” he strung along the words in one breath.

  Making myself comfortable, I crossed my ankle over my knee. Lord, this is going to be a hard nut to crack, but You’re a way maker and heart changer. Please allow Mr. Norton to see nothing, but You in my life. Amen, I prayed to myself before Mackenzie returned. Then we left a few minutes later.

  Our first stop was at my parents’ house. They insisted—no, nagged me—no demanded, I bring Mackenzie to their house. They liked her instantly from their brief encounter on Christmas Day.

  Even Pierce, who I sometimes nicknamed Fierce because he could be brutal when it came to women, couldn’t find fault with Mackenzie.

  Caleb took our coats as Momma directed us to the living room. A roaring fire was set to entertain us. I claimed a corner of a sectional and patted a spot next to me for Mackenzie. She obliged.

  Less than sixty seconds after Mackenzie smoothed the wrinkles out her skirt, my mother began to fire off questions. “So, Mackenzie, is there anybody Deaf in your family? What made you want to learn sign language?” she asked with curiosity.

  I hadn’t appreciated it before, but Mackenzie demonstrated how important my deafness was to her. She turned and looked at me, while answering my mother. “Mrs. Richardson, no one in my family is Deaf.”

  Mackenzie’s eyes twinkled. “I always thought the language was beautiful, expressive, and curious. I wanted to be included in their world, not excluded.” Mackenzie faced my mother and finished with, “If that makes any sense.”

  Momma shook her head. “No, but we all have our reasons.”

  Dad strolled into the room with two glasses of his homemade root beer floats, forcing an intermission. He handed a glass to Mackenzie and the other to me.

  Taking a seat on the sofa near Momma, Dad stretched out his arms, encouraging her closer. “So, Mackenzie, do you only interpret at church, or are you certified?”

  My mother smacked his leg as if scolding him. “Honey, you don’t have to sign. There is nothing wrong with Mackenzie. She can hear us.”

  Dad frowned as Pierce signed, “Momma, there’s nothing wrong with Noel either. He’s sitting right here in front of us.”

  “I agree with Momma. If we can all hear, why sign? Noel can lip read,” Caleb added.

  A disagreement brewed and an argument exploded. Discreetly checking my watch, I took Mackenzie’s hand and squeezed it. I stood and helped her up. “Well, it’s getting late everybody. Mackenzie and I are going to head out, so we won’t be late for the play.”

  While my parents fussed over Mackenzie and gave her hugs, Pierce pulled me aside. “Wow, was she your choice or God’s?” Pierce signed with his back to Mackenzie.

  “Both.” Our fists met in agreement. I grabbed our coats and helped Mackenzie slip into hers. We left for the Fox Theatre where “Big River,” featuring some Deaf cast members, was touring.

  As I expected, the stage production wooed Mackenzie. Inconspicuously, I watched as her eyes followed the actors’ hand movements. While some clapped at the conclusion of a scene, those who were Deaf in the audience raised their hands and wiggled their fingers like Mackenzie and me.

  Hours later, in a nearby restaurant, Mackenzie recalled her favorite scenes as we sat around the table with two other Deaf couples. When the waitress laid meals in front of one couple, they dug in without waiting for us.

  The second couple prayed to themselves. Mackenzie reached across the table after the waitress delivered our orders. My rough hands swallowed up her soft, moist ones.

  “Pray for our meal, Noel. If we speak no other words tonight, I love to hear you pray,” Mackenzie requested. She bowed her head and I followed.

  “Father God, in the Name of Jesus, I thank You for this incredible woman who has become my joy, friend, and the love of my life. I ask that You bless her food and mine, and provide for others less fortunate. I thank You for our fellowship in Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

  Opening our eyes, we met the others’ stare. Mackenzie and I shared a secret smile, lifted our forks, and attacked our food.

  Mackenzie was definitely the best person to walk into my life. February had arrived and our love had grown stronger. Mr. Norton became less hostile as I arrived to take Mackenzie to Bible classes, prayer meetings, or dates.

  I believed it was a result of my prayers and my resolution to remain in Mackenzie’s life. To his contradiction, Mr. Norton seemed to be pleased with himself as he learned four deaf phrases and I understood them. Praise God for small miracles.

  When a snowstorm forced school closings and Mackenzie was holed up in her home, we exchanged so many text messages, I lost count. As snow threatened to shut down businesses, including church services, we logged on to our computers to watch videos and Deaf movies on You Tube.

  As Valentine’s Day approached, I toyed with the idea of proposing again. Mackenzie demanded the whole nine yards of romance. I could only suppress unleashing my desires as a saint of God for so long. When I looked at Mackenzie, I saw seduction and temptress.

  I loved her, and yes I wanted to marry her. Even though I had already asked her, I should’ve consulted God to make sure the timing was right. Mackenzie was the right fit, and I was at the spiritual level to meet her needs.

  I searched the scriptures for answers. When none came, I fasted for two days. I shied away from Mackenzie, so she wouldn’t distract me. As I continued to fast for another day, God spoke. I had expected an Old Testament Proverb or New Testament scripture like “marriage is honorable in all, the bed undefiled…”

  God had other plans, forcing me to study beyond verse one in 1 Peter 3. Could I be the man where Mackenzie felt comfortable yielding to my decisions without question? I knew my role as the head didn’t call for me to boss Mackenzie around. I chuckled. Mackenzie wouldn’t stand for it anyway.

  God wanted me to understand the meaning of “dwelling with your wife according to knowledge and giving honor unto the wife.” I meditated on the scripture that reminded me that Mackenzie was the weaker vessel—not the weakest. Phrases like “heirs together” and “let not your prayers be hindered” began to permeate my heart.

  CHAPTER 27

  My creativity in a marriage proposal was in trouble. I needed help. I had ruled out the red rose petals from her house to my waiting car thing. It would be just my luck she’d slip and fall. Writing a message on her classroom chalkboard probably wouldn’t work either. If Moses saw it first, he would erase it or add something like ‘don’t marry him.’

  I was oblivious about choosing the engagement ring, so after watching countless commercials of Jared the Galleria of Jewelry, I went to Jared’s. If it wasn’t sparkling, it wasn’t dazzling.

  Peering through every glass counter, I bypassed gold, silver, and the solitaires. The clerk seem relieved and then impressed when I settled on a 14K white gold one-carat three stone diamond ring. She was blissful when she scanned the price tag.

  With my purchase wrapped and secured in my blazer’s inside pocket, I texted P
ierce and confided in him that I was I ready to pop the question. Any suggestions?

  Luther, Pierce typed.

  Luther who, Vandross?

  Pierce: The late Vandross. His love songs r legendary. Women like him. I plan 2 play it in the background if I ever propose. It will set the mood where she’ll tear up and will say yes before the song ends.

  Pierce sent another text: Use the song ‘Here and Now.’

  Sounds like you have a plan, bro.

  Pierce: Yeah, a plan that’s waiting to be put in action with the right woman. Poof.

  Jesus, please bless Pierce with the right one, I prayed. Once at home, it wasn’t hard to find the song online. I purchased it with an overnight delivery. I created a Hallmark e-card. I chose an opened red rosebud in the background. Separate images of a black man and woman faded in and out. They didn’t look like us, but Mackenzie would get the message.

  I clicked yes to music, hoping the selection would match the card’s theme. In the message box I typed, You have been my Valentine waiting to be opened. Mackenzie, please spend this special day with me at a special place for special memories. Say yes, Noel. I pushed send.

  Less than a minute later, my BlackBerry vibrated. Mackenzie’s had me guessing what she meant with her one word answer: Yes.

  I made reservations at Bissell Mansion Restaurant & Murder Mystery Theatre, a historical St. Louis landmark known for its hilarious murder mystery performers as a tribute to her Mackenzie’s ambition in the arts.

  Throughout Valentine’s Day at PRESERVE-St. Louis, floral deliveries, chocolate molded shaped lips, and early departures told stories I didn’t need to hear to understand. Lifting my TV remote, I pointed toward my wall plasma monitor.

  Deciding against that method, I opted for my computer web camera where the interpreter could see me sign, relay the message via headset, and sign back, which I could watch on my computer. I requested he dial Mackenzie’s home number. When my party came on the line, I was instructed to go ahead.

 

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