Cohen stopped to gape at Rushi, his mouth hanging open.
‘I didn’t know,’ he stuttered. ‘My mother didn’t tell me.’
Rushi sat back, her expression calm. ‘There’s no reason for you to have known. Guido and I adopted her years ago, while you were off doing your teenage sulk routine … oh yes, I know all about that, don’t think your mother didn’t tell me.’
Damn, Cohen thought.Damn.
The first woman he’d taken an interest in since Christine, and she was completely off-limits. He knew his mother would kill him if he did anything to offend Rushi, and while delivering a birthday gift a few months late was one thing, screwing around with a clearly beloved daughter was something else entirely.
Damn.
The woman – River, as he now knew – stood there watching while Cohen’s face fell and then stiffened. At his expression her own face dropped too, and she looked down at Rushi, her hands suddenly awakening in a flurry of movement.
Rushi frowned, her hands responding, while Cohen watched in amazement. They were arguing, he suddenly realised. But they were arguing without words.
They were arguing, Cohen realised, with their hands.
River threw up her hands, a gesture so like Rushi’s that Cohen sat back in amazement. She stomped off, and Rushi turned back to Cohen, clearly annoyed.
‘She likes you,’ Rushi told him. ‘She thinks I’m probably being too hard on you. She’s right, but I didn’t like her attitude.’
‘She’s deaf,’ Cohen whispered, still in shock and disbelief, and Rushi nodded.
‘Yes. She had meningitis as an infant. It destroyed her hearing.’
‘That’s awful,’ Cohen replied, but Rushi sat taller.
‘She’s alive,’ she spoke coolly. ‘It could’ve been much worse. But now you understand, of course, why you must keep away. Why she’s not for you.’
‘Because she’s your daughter?’
Rushi scowled. ‘No. Because she’s deaf. Because she can’t understand you, nor you her.’
‘But there’s always lip reading …’ Cohen started to protest, but Rushi shook her head.
‘Not all deaf people can lip read, Ford. River can follow lips a little, but not enough to communicate with you. She can hardly take your coffee order. She certainly can’t start a relationship with you.’ She suddenly frowned. ‘Not that anything like that was on your mind, I’m sure. You probably had less ... noble intentions.’
‘You don’t know that,’ Cohen said, but Rushi stared at him, her face hard.
‘I knew your father, and he wasn’t aboutnoble intentions,let me tell you.’ Rushi leaned back, looking at Cohen keenly. ‘I know Ford men, and I don’t trust them.’
‘I’m not my father.’ Cohen’s voice was quiet. ‘And you don’t know me.’
For a moment they sat in silence. Finally, Rushi stood.
‘Keep away from my daughter, Ford. She’s beautiful, I know. And because she’s beautiful men have tried to take advantage of her. Her deafness ...’ Rushi, for a minute, looked lost for words. When she spoke again, her voice was harsh, a disapproving rasp. ‘Men have tried to exploit it. Don’t you do the same.’
‘But …’
‘No,’ Rushi interrupted firmly. ‘Keep away from her.’
Cohen swallowed hard, nodding slowly. He tried to forget River, tried to forget her smile, her eyes and the feel of her lips upon his skin. It was probably for the best, he told himself sternly. Ice cream and sweetness and women like River… they weren’t for a man like him. He didn’t deserve the good things in life. ‘Alright,’ he agreed, his voice low and regretful. ‘I’ll stay away.’
‘Good.’ Rushi gave him a curt nod. ‘Well, I’m going to take this upstairs,’ she picked up the gift. ‘It’s a little late for a birthday present, so tell your mother I’ll save it for Christmas. Wait, not Christmas …’ She paused, glancing at him. ‘When’s Hanukkah this year?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Rushi stared at him. ‘You don’t know?’
