Warren takes one slow breath, then signs as he speaks.“Martina, I don’t know you very well, but I do know your daughter… Actually, I’m beginning to wonder if I know her better than you do.”
He looks at me and the sleeping baby in my arms with affection.“Chloe is the hardest working person I know. I don’t think I know anyone else who could be a full-time parent to an infant with medical needs and still work. Did you know that Willow has medication she needs to take three times a day? That she requires daily monitoring for her heart? That she barely sleeps? Chloe doesn’t complain. Ever. On top of that, she’s still a good friend to Luke and me. She’s exhausted.”
Warren pauses and looks at my dad, then back to my mother, who is leaning on the back of her chair, arms folded over her chest.
“Maybe if Chloe had felt safe to ask for help once in a while, she’d be less hard on herself.”Warren looks to me briefly before continuing, an apology in his eyes.“So… yes. I hear how she is speaking to you, and frankly, I wouldn’t have been so kind.”
His shoulders rise and fall on a breath before he looks my mother in the eye without hesitation.“And no, I don’t speak to my mother like that because…myjunkie mother is dead.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I love him.That’s all I can think right now. I love Warren.
I take his hand in mine. Damn further comments or judgements from my mother. She stands, outraged, and my father reaches up and slowly pulls her back down to her seat. She turns to him in a fury, and my parents share a conversation with glances back and forth.
My interpretation would be that my father is trying to make her see how close she is to losing her only daughter, and my mother stubbornly agrees to give in.
My mother licks her lips, eyes full of annoyance and signs as she speaks.“I’m sorry, Chloe, Warren. I didn’t intend to ruin this lovely dinner. Let’s all sit.”
We lower into our chairs, still holding hands. Warren grips mine tighter and brings it to his lap, wrapping his other around the back and squeezing between his two palms before letting go.
The four of us load our plates with more food in silence, pausing to pass dishes around.
My father strikes up a conversation with Warren about cars. I relinquish some pride and ask my mother about Abuela’s health. We all talk until we’ve finished our dinner, ignoring the scene that just took place. Though I don’t forget what Warren said for a single moment. The way he had commanded the attention of the room, defending me from the same judgements he had made of me a few months ago.
After dinner, my mother asks to hold Willow. In her lap at first—out of arm’s reach—but then Willow did her impression of the world’s most perfect baby. Giving nothing but big eyes and sweet smiles, and even my mom softened to her, pulling her to her chest.
My dad asked Warren to take a photo of the four of us to show Abuela and said they’d get it framed. They left shortly after I came down from getting Willow settled to bed, exchanging hugs in place of handshakes with Warren and Luke, who had reappeared while I was upstairs.
As I close the front door, I count the visit as a win overall. When I turn, Luke and Warren are in the hallway behind me, offering a group hug. After a long, slightly awkward minute of hugging, we all step back.
“Man, I’m sure glad we weren’t adopted.”Luke’s face lights up with teasing, and I can’t help but laugh. Warren shoves his shoulder but smirks as well.“What? I’m kidding. Your dad was cool. He talks a lot, though.”
We walk over to the living room as a unit. Warren lands next to me on the couch, our knees touching, as Luke sits across from us in the armchair.
“Yeah, well, my mom can sign but frequently complains about having to juggle three languages. I think he liked having someone to talk to. Thanks for hanging out with him.”
“What happened when I left? Things looked… intense.”
“Warren stood up for me, literally. Shut my mother up. It was great.”
“I wouldn’t say that,”Warren chimes in, eyes falling to the ground between the three of us before raising slowly to find me.
“No, you did. I… I loved it. Thank you.”As I look back at him, I can feel myself forgetting to hide what’s fighting its way out.I love you.My eyes might literally have cartoon-hearts popping out of them. Luke coughs, dragging our attention back to the other side of the room.
“Well, I’m going to go to my room now… have fun thanking him, I guess. Just don’t do it out here.”He goes to stand, and I toss a pillow at him. He laughs, and I roll my eyes.
“Goodnight,”he signs to me.“Good luck,”he signs to Warren, who brings a hand to rub his chin, smiling and shaking his head.
When Luke’s door shuts, Warren clears his throat and scoots a little farther away.
“So,” we say at the same time, then stop.
“You go,” I say.
Warren smirks and wiggles his mouth from side to side. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”I have something else I’d much rather do.
