by Holly Jacobs
Oh, hell, who was she kidding? Breaking things off to avoid hurting Josh sounded so noble, but she was honest enough with herself to admit that she was trying to save herself from being hurt.
They pulled into her driveway and Libby felt a rush of relief. It was over.
“Goodbye,” she said. She opened the door and slammed it behind her; unfortunately it didn’t shut.
“Can I come in?” Josh asked, the limo backing out of the driveway. “I sent the driver home, so I’m sort of stranded.”
“Too bad.” Libby knew she was being rude, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want Josh here. She didn’t want the ache in her chest to start again. She didn’t want to dream it could be different. And she most definitely didn’t want to start to believe him when he said he loved her. If she did, her heart wouldn’t just ache, but would shatter when he eventually left.
“We had our limo ride and our talk. You’ve had your say. Now it’s time for you to go.”
He pushed past her into her entryway and shut the door behind him. He stood there—filling her house with one more unwanted Joshua Gardner memory—studying her.
“What do I have to do to convince you it’s over?” she cried.
“It’ll never be over,” Josh maintained softly.
“Josh…” Libby was interrupted by a thump behind her. Meg had stomped her foot to get her mother’s attention. She was covered with flour and traces of the green cookie frosting lined her lips.
“Mom. You’re home,” she signed. “Pearly and I were baking. Do you want to help?” Meg glanced at Josh and smiled, nodding her head in greeting and giving him a little wave. “Josh can help, too.”
“Slow,” Josh signed to Meg. “I know baking and I know help. Me?” he asked, the question in his eyes.
Both Libby and Meg stared at him. Meg’s fingers flew in his direction, but he just shrugged hopelessly, signing “Slow.”
“You signed,” Libby accused.
“I’ve been taking lessons.”
“Lessons?” she asked.
“Yeah, you know, American Sign Language lessons. The teacher at the Mercyhurst party has been giving me private lessons so I could learn faster and tailor my learning to my needs. I’ve only had three classes, but I’ve been working at it. I can sign…” Slowly he signed, “My name is Joshua Gardner.” He smiled as his fingers stumbled over a few of the letters.
“And I recognized baking and help in the middle of Meg’s flying fingers.” Meg was beaming and Libby just stood there, something big spreading through her chest, replacing the ache, replacing the fear.
Josh wasn’t going to leave her house because she told him to, and suddenly Libby realized he wasn’t going to leave her life, either. She could fight him, she could run…. Hell, all her armchair psychiatrists were right. Running—that’s what she’d been doing since the very beginning, and yet, here he was, signing to her daughter.
When things got tough, Josh got tougher.
Since Mitch left, she’d been afraid to lean on anyone, afraid that when she needed them most they’d let her fall. As Mitch had. But Josh? She looked at him signing to Meg. Would that toughness be enough? Libby had a feeling that loving her could be very hard work—was Josh up to it? If she leaned, would he support her? And did she have the strength to support him in turn?
He stood there, chatting in terribly slow broken sign language to Meg, and the feeling that was spreading through her chest totally squeezed out the pain and fear. The feeling she’d been so afraid to name, so afraid to claim was bigger than even she could contain.
The feeling she’d never named was—
“Oh,” Josh added, “I did learn a couple other phrases. Like…” And he signed, “Merry Christmas. I love Meg, I love Libby.”
Tears she hadn’t shed since that day so long ago when the doctor had told her Meg was deaf now stung her eyes. But this time there was no despair behind them.
“I love you, too,” Meg signed with the freeness of a heart that had never been broken.
“Meg, leave your mom and Josh alone and come take care of your cookies,” Pearly called, and Libby signed.
Meg rushed from the room, leaving Libby alone with Josh and the huge feeling that was rapidly becoming too big to contain.
She wanted to tell him, wanted to explain, but the words were lost; the signs were, as well. She stood mute with the growing realization that this man wouldn’t leave, that no matter how she pushed, or what obstacles life threw at them, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“There’s one more thing I learned to say,” Josh said, moving closer to Libby. Slowly his hands formed the words, “Will you marry me?”
The something that had been spreading through her chest suddenly broke free. With tears streaming down her face, she walked forward into Josh’s open arms.
“You love me? You really love me,” she half asked and half said.
“I love you,” he whispered into her ear. “You can’t shake me. You can be mean. You can kick me out. You can deny your feelings and walk away. But I’ll still be here, still loving you and Meg. I’m in this for the long haul, no matter how much time, how much work it takes.”
“You love us both?” She needed to be sure she heard him right, needed to hear him say the words, sign the words, again and again.
“Both. I want you both. I want us all to be a family. I love you, Libby. Nothing’s going to change that. Marry me?”
She kissed him.
“Ah, we have company,” he said, breaking the kiss off reluctantly.
Libby turned and looked at Meg and Pearly standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling broadly. “He wants to marry me,” she signed.
“About time,” Meg said.
“You can say that again,” Pearly added. “I was beginning to worry that you were going to screw things up and then you’d regret it for—”
“Twenty-eight years, three months and four days,” Libby supplied.
“I marry your mom?” Josh signed to Meg, totally ignoring Pearly and Libby’s banter.
Meg just nodded enthusiastically. “Later. Now cookies, tomorrow Christmas, presents. Later marry.” Her signs were slow and choppy as she tried to make her words easier for Josh to understand.
Meg turned to her mother. “Just tell Josh yes.”
“You’re sure?” Libby asked, though she hardly needed to. Meg’s shining eyes gave her answer better than any words or signs could.
“Would you stop leaving the boy standing there waiting for your answer and just tell him yes,” Pearly grumbled, and led Meg back into the kitchen.
“She says you can marry me later. Right now we have baking and then tomorrow we have presents to open.”
Nervously he asked, “She doesn’t seem to mind?”
“Mind? No, she doesn’t mind. She knows she’s getting a built-in math tutor and video buddy.”
Libby kissed him again.
Josh dug through his pocket. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” Libby said the word and waited for an old stab of fear, but there was nothing but a feeling of rightness, a feeling of coming home.
“Here,” he said, handing her a small gray box. “I’ve been holding on to this for a while now.”
Libby opened the small box and gasped. Inside was a beautifully cut emerald ring. “Josh, are you sure? I mean, taking on Meg and her problems and…”
Josh gently pushed the ring over her knuckle, then he kissed her. “Meg’s the least of my worries. I figure between the classes and the practice I get here, I’ll be signing soon. And communication was Meg’s and my biggest hurdle. She’s a loving and trusting girl. She’s not a deaf girl, she’s a girl who just can’t hear. No, my problems have never been Meg. It’s been her wildly stubborn, hardheaded mother.”
“Well, for the record, her wildly stubborn hard-headed mother seems to have fallen in love with you, too,” Libby confessed.
“I know,” Josh told her smugly.
“You know? Is that all you hav
e to say?”
Josh didn’t say anything, but his fingers moved slowly, signing, “I love you, too.”
The moment was broken as they both turned to the stomping coming from the kitchen door. “Are you two going to kiss all day? We have cookies to finish and then we have to make the fudge.”
“I caught cookies,” Josh said, laughing.
Libby’s laughter joined his. “Seems after the cookies, we have to make the fudge.”
“I love you,” he whispered as they followed Meg into the kitchen.
“I love you, too,” Libby signed.
She stood in the doorway, watching him frost cookies with Pearly and Meg. The something growing in her chest was overwhelming. It was something big, something significant…. It most definitely was love.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5309-7
DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?
Copyright © 2001 by Holly Fuhrman
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