Elizabeth White - Sounds Of Silence

Mercedes made the sign for woman, then pretty. She pantomimed sewing and brushed her hands down the front of her gown. Clearly she was proud of the garment.

“Isabel made it for you?” he guessed aloud. “Isabel?” he repeated slowly, as she watched his lips.

Mercedes nodded, beaming, and made the sign for beautiful again.

Eli grinned. “Oh, yeah. She is.”

He’d love to know what was going on behind Mercedes’s intelligent expression. He’d been using every spare minute to study an American Sign Language book he’d checked out of the library. This would be a good time to practice.

But before he could do more than ask Mercedes how old she was, and discover that she was seven, Isabel came back into the room with Danilo riding piggyback.

“Eli!” shouted the little boy. “Let’s play baseball!”

“Maybe next time, cowboy.” Eli glanced at Isabel. “It’s already dark outside.”

“You’re on your way to bed, Nilo,” said Isabel. “Tell Eli good-night.” She held out a hand to Mercedes. “You, too, sweetie.”

Mercedes let Isabel pull her to her feet. To Eli’s astonishment, the little girl blew him a kiss before heading for the bedrooms.

Isabel’s eyes widened, too, but she leaned over to let Danilo and Eli high-five over her shoulder. The subtle, spicy scent of roses, along with the sweetness of bubblegum toothpaste, gave Eli an odd, familiar pang from his childhood that made him wish he could kick the recliner back and stay indefinitely.

He suddenly understood Isabel’s flustered behavior when he’d sat down in the recliner. It must have been Rico’s favorite place. The husband chair. The daddy chair.

Eli jumped to his feet.

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