Chapter 9
Jade
Idropped down from the ladder, stepping off to the side and leaning against the tree, wiping sweat off my brow. When Cat jumped out at me with a hello, I just turned and gave her a dry smile.
“Hello, yourself,” I said. She pouted, hands on her hips, the brown paper bag she was holding bouncing off her thigh.
“That’s a boring reaction.”
“Cat, you’re deaf. You can’t sneak up on me. You literally have no idea how loud you are.”
“Dammit. I thought I was pulling it off this time.” She handed me the bag, her face brightening. “Care package.”
“Thanks.” I took the bag, stepping off to the side and dropping down on the park bench. Today’s work was trimming the trees along the lower levels of the park, checking their health, and I always forgot how annoying it was to clean up from pruning a tree. I was definitely due a break.
Cat shed her big fleece jacket and draped it down on the grass to sit across from me, big boots and tiny shorts with her knees into her chest, colorful knee tattoos matching up together when she pressed them into herself like that. The wind blew cold through the lush green of the park around us, but with howmuch I’d been overheating climbing up and down dealing with this tree, I was glad for the breeze.
Never one to be left out of a snack, Cat opened a second, smaller bag, taking out a jelly donut—herpersonal vice,she called them—and she took a bite, talking through a mouthful. “So, what do you think?” she said, and I set the bag down on my lap to sign while I responded.
“I like trees better when they’re not shedding in my hair.”
She covered up a laugh. “I mean, what do you think of Alyssa?” She wasn’t signing as much while she spoke, which was a concerningly good sign. She did it mostly to coach other people to sign with her, a response to being overlooked that was automatic enough she’d do it even with me, who knew the most sign of anyone outside Cat around here. If she wasn’t doing it, she was in a good mood and feeling good about herself, which I was happy about, but… I think I knew why she was.
“You two,” I said, “have been scheming something together.”
She put a hand to her chest. “You thinkIwould scheme?”
“I think you would scheme.”
“Jade. How could you?” She laughed. “We’ve just been chatting! She’s really cool. I like her.”
“Mm.” I opened the bag, took a bite of the sandwich she’d brought me, and it was a natural lull in the conversation—couldn’t sign with sandwich in my hands, and she couldn’t lipread if I talked with a mouthful of bread. Conversations with food always had this easy pace where either of us could just go a minute without a word and we were both comfortable with it. Gave me time to think, let my mind drift back to Alyssa.
After the confessional over the phone, we hadn’t seen each other yesterday, but we’d kept in touch—I’d had work, and she’d gotten invited to a hike together with Linda, Charlie, Daniela and Abby. I’d enjoyed it more than I would have expected towhen I finished packaging up and shipping off boxes for candle orders and got back home, to where she’d sent me photos from the hike. I’d worked on the roads and the park around here for years now, and I’d gotten used to it, but seeing it through Alyssa’s eyes made it feel new again, exciting.
Her being chatty wasn’t half-bad. All I had to do was ask her another follow-up question every now and then, and she’d take off leading the conversation, enthusing about every boring little detail of a hike that clearly wasn’t boring at all in her eyes. I ended up sending her some pictures of my finished candles, with an offhandthis was my hike for the day,and she’d gushed about them and asked a million questions about candle making.
We hadn’t texted this morning—I’d thought about it, looking at our chat log, but in the end, I didn’t go through with it. It wasn’t like we were… friends, necessarily. She’d texted first yesterday, to talk about the hike, and without her initiating it, I felt like I couldn’t message her without a specific reason.
“She’s nice,” I said finally. “I had a feeling you two would get along. You’re both chatty.”
“So, what? You don’t get along with her?”
I shrugged. “I like talking to her. Is that the confession you were after?”
She grinned. “I knew it. God, I’m so glad. It’s nice seeing you coming to life again a little.”
“Coming to life? I don’t remember dying to begin with.”
“You’ve been… distant,” she said, her voice getting lower as the wind rustled in the trees around us. “Like you’re not really a part of things anymore. But now look at you,” she laughed, brightening up. “Making a friend.”
So she’d picked up on it… I guess it made sense. She’d always been perceptive. I sighed, kicking my foot up over my knee. “I didn’t say anything about making friends.”
“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “She clearly likes you, and you clearly like her.”
“You know what the problem is,” I said gruffly. Her expression softened.
“I know it’s complicated. But you said you’d try. That you’d make an effort to get back in with everybody, connect with the community…”
