I settleon the new deli, simply because there's a line out the door. All these people must have a good reason for waiting in line.
A woman and her antsy kid walk up and stand behind me. I know who she is, though we've never formally met. A person can’t live in this town and not know a Hayden. If Jessie hadn't been away at college most of the time I’ve been here, I’m sure I would've known her. Look how long it took me to meet her once she came back.
The young mom’s name is Dakota, I believe. Wes Hayden’s wife. I’ve seen her in town before, and at the local market she puts on at her restaurant, but not Wes. Wyatt tells me he runs the HCC, and I’m guessing the ranch is where he spends a majority of his time.
The child she holds is young, maybe not even two. He wants down. He wants to touch everything. He wants to eat his fingers afterward.
I look back and smile politely at her. She offers me an apologetic smile. "They don't come with an instruction manual," she jokes. Based on the size and shape of her stomach, I'm pretty sure she's pregnant again. Not that I'm going to ask. That's one of those things you don't ask a woman.
"He's not a bother," I assure her. "Just a busy kid."
The child, Colt she called him a minute ago, walks quickly away from her, and is headed straight for the counter. He'll have no trouble sailing under it and getting into the kitchen. She drops her bag and hurries after him. She darts in front of him, then says his name and gives him a disapproving look. She sweeps him off his feet and he struggles against the cage she's formed with her arms.
"I forgot all his toys at home," she explains as she gets back in line. Colt digs his face into her chest.
I look around, then grab an outdated flyer off a bulletin board on the wall. I crumple it up and toss it from hand to hand. "Do you want this ball, buddy?"
He doesn't respond, and Dakota says, "He's hard of hearing. Mostly deaf, actually." She taps his back and he turns slowly, looking up at his mom. It isn't until now I notice the little hearing aid. It's the exact color of his hair. I hand her the makeshift ball and she takes it, then shows it to him. He takes it and crumples it even more in his small grasp. He looks at me.
"Ball," I say, pointing at his hand. Then I press my fingertips from each hand together, palms apart, and signball. "Ball," I repeat, pointing at the paper in his hand. I do this three more times. His eyes remain fixed on me. He drops the paper and imitates me. It looks nothing like the sign I made, but that's not the point.
Dakota gasps. "Did he just… did you just…?" Tears spring to her eyes. "Oh my gosh."
I smile at the kid. "He's very bright."
The person behind the counter asks me for my order, and a second person steps up to help Dakota.
I'm sitting at a table outside, unwrapping my sandwich, when Dakota approaches with Colt in tow. I push out the empty chair across from me with my foot and motion for her to sit. "Would you like to join me? Most of the seats are taken."
"I was going to take this food home"—she lifts the bag—"but after what just happened, I'd like to ask you some questions. If you don't mind."
"Please," I say, moving aside and balling up the butcher paper my lunch was wrapped in.
She sits down and plants Colt in her lap. From her bag she produces a small container of apple slices and gives it to him. He begins munching happily. She takes a breath and extends her hand. "I'm Dakota Hayden. And you are?"
"Sawyer Bennett." I go to take her hand to shake, but she snaps her fingers while I'm still reaching.
"I know you. You bought into Jo's ranch. Jo is my sister-in-law."
I nod. “Don’t take this to mean I’m a creep, but I know who you are.”
She shakes her head and takes a bite of her lunch. “Sometimes I forget my locally infamous last name." She chews, swallows, and asks, "Are you fluent in ASL?"
I have to nod my answer because I'm chewing. I wipe my mouth with a napkin. Before I can speak, she's asking another question.
"Was it hard to learn? Because I've looked into classes for me and Colt, but they are all in Phoenix and it's a two-hour drive there and back, and we'd need to go enough that we could really get the benefit of it. And I really want his dad to do it too, but he works so much there's no way he could." She takes a breath and laughs, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm just so relieved to meet someone who knows ASL."
I chuckle. "It's okay. How long have you known Colt is hard of hearing?"
"For a while. I started realizing he wasn't responding to my voice." Dakota wipes her hands with her napkin and looks down at the top of Colt’s head. "We took him to an audiologist in Phoenix, and they confirmed it."
"He's wearing a hearing aid, so I'm guessing his hearing loss is sensorineural?"
"Mixed hearing loss. He's going to get cochlear implants soon." Her lips twist as she speaks and I can tell there's something more she's not saying, something that's upsetting her.
I nod. "Have you begun teaching him sign language?"
"I'm trying," she says. "It's not easy."
