Pick two: Food
Pick three: Woodcut
“Hearts.”
I shake my head. She’s done hundreds of anatomical hearts already.
“Skulls,” she counters.
“No.” She knows what she needs to practice.
She groans. “But I hate hands!”
“Maybe if you sign more, they won’t seem so foreign,” I say, signing in American Sign Language. Kelly asked me to teach her how to sign because she wants to contribute to making our shop more inclusive. I’ve signed since I was little, so we often cater to deaf clients, and she wants to be able to communicate with everyone we work with—she’s a chatty little thing by nature. Spending extra time teaching her ASL was a no-brainer.
“I hate hands,” she signs back with an unamused expression. Then pauses a moment to roughly sign that “theknuckles always look like shit.”
"Stop bitching and get to work."
My mother was deaf. She died after being hit by a drunk driver, but I’ve never stopped practicing ASL. She’s the one who taught me to sign. We have several clients who sign, so I encourage the other artists to learn. I even taught Clyde a little. It’s a good skill to have either way. Kelly is a quick study; she’s picked up a lot just from watching me talk to deaf clients, and the rest we cover with lessons or by making her sign while she speaks in our casual conversations.
Her phone dings, and she grins at the screen. God, what on earth could this guy be saying to make her look so smitten?
“What now?” I ask.
“Jason.” She sighs all dreamily.Give me a fucking break.“I dunno, I just really like him. He’s so sweet. Since Dad died, it’s really nice to have somebody to make me feel good about myself. And who knows, maybe this will turn serious. I know that sounds crazy, but?—”
“It doesn’t sound crazy, itis crazy. You’ve only been with him a month.”
This is the first time I’ve ever heard her express interest in something long-term with a guy. Usually, she’s just dating and keeps it casual, or I scare him off before he gets any ideas. I’m letting her get it out of her system because once she’s mine, I’m not giving her back. The level of restraint I show even letting her go out with other men is beyond generous, and only because of a stupid fucking promise I made to her dad, who I, unfortunately, have great respect for. My patience should be studied.
“Six weeks,” she argues.
My jaw tenses. “You’re only twenty-five.”
“I’m turning twenty-six soon. Half of the people I graduated high school with are engaged or married?—”
Marriage? Is she fucking serious?
“So what!” I snap. “Do you really think you’re ready to settle down with somebody?”
She flinches, but I still see the remnants of stars in her eyes. Holy shit. Have I not been paying attention? Somehow it snuck past me that she’s actually developing feelings for this poster child of mediocrity.
“I’m not saying I’m ready to recite vows with Jason. I’m just ready for something more serious. I feel like I’ve had my fun, but now I’m ready for the next step. I’m not saying I’m there yet, but I think this guy has . . . I don’t know,potential. It’s time for me to grow up, ya know?”
“If you wanna settle down, that’s great. But you’re not going to find it with that guy.”
Well, Clyde, I waited.Kelly may like to leave her decisions up to fate, but when it comes to this, I control the strings. I’ve invested too much. I gave her freedom, but just because I let her wander doesn’t mean I’ll let her get lost.
“How would you know?”
I scoff. “Because I know you. You’re dressing him up to be something worth wanting. That’s not love, that’s settling. If you have to chase love that hard, you won’t find it.”
Knowing she wants to be locked down is all the confirmation I need. It would be cruel to stand by and watch her look for the thing she wants most while I hold it behind my back. Love isn’t something she needs to chase.
Her phone chimes, and she smiles down at the screen again. “I told him I had to work. He’s pouting.”
He’spouting? “Three-year-olds pout, Chaos.” This guy is a clown.
