When it comes to communication, his facial expressions give me all the evidence I need to know what he’s thinking.
This game is child’s play for us.
Watch and learn.
*Mentally cracks knuckles*
Staring Keller in the eyes, I speak very slowly as I say, “Love of my life.”
“Lobster mitten,” he shouts.
My brows turn down.
Lobster mitten?
Where the hell did that come from?
I shake my head and move my lips slowly.
“Love . . . of . . . my . . . liiiiiife.”
“Love myself.”
“Ooo, close!” I say. “You got the first one but not the second part. Really pay attention.”
“You’re speaking too fast. I can’t tell what you’re saying.”
“I said you got the first one, not the second.”
“What?”
“First one.”
“Firstborn?”
“No.” I shake my head. “First one!”
“What? First myself? First lobster? First mitten?”
“No, not first.” I shake my head and hand. “Love is good. You got love.” I give him a thumbs-up.
“Love glove?” His nose cringes. “Oh . . . a condom? We don’t use condoms,” he shouts so loud I swear the footmen can hear him.
I press my hand to my forehead and take a deep breath. “Okay, starting over.” I erase the air to indicate a new slate. I then hold up my hand and show four fingers for four words.
“Four lobsters?”
“There are no lobsters!” I shout, tossing my hand in the air before reaching over and plucking his headphone off his head. “No lobsters, forget the lobsters, for the love of God!”
Silence falls, only the distant sound of yodelers fills the air as we both turn to Elias, who is charmed by our interaction.
I clear my throat and sit back down on my side of the couch. “Sorry about that.” I straighten out my dress. “Just can’t stand when people can’t hear me is all. Now, shall we get—”
“Are you starting again? You’re going too fast.”
I stare up at the ceiling and whisper, “I think I’m dead inside.”
* * *
