Her eyes were wide, and he could see the flecks of green in the blue around her pupil.
“Unexpected,” he muttered, before stepping away. “Anyway. Second verse. I’ll focus on Matt.”
Arms suddenly slipped around his waist, and he felt Cerys press up against his back. The warmth of her, the feel of her breath, how solid and grounded he felt with her arms around him anchored him completely in the moment. Thoughts that had begun to scatter completely coalesced. He reached behind him and placed his palms on her thighs while looking down at long slender fingers that coaxed the most beautiful music from a piano he’d ever heard. Thin gold rings stacked on her fingers.
As quickly as they’d arrived, they left. Cerys coughed and picked up the notebook. “Is the theme ‘where were you?’ Like, where was Matt when all these things happened? Or why weren’t you with me to shoulder the burden?”
Jase looked at the floor and took a deep breath before he turned. “Can it be both? I feel like I need to ask both questions.”
This time when he looked at her, there was a look of such deep understanding that he felt a sense of belonging to someone unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
“It’s your song, Jase. It can be absolutely anything you want it to be.”
He nodded. “Let’s do both. How about this:
He kicks me,
I want him to kick you.
Let there be a net for me to slip through.
But pain’s all I get,
and you’re not aware yet.
My brother, where the fuck were you?”
The pen scratched across the paper as Cerys scribbled the lyrics down. But he left the room before the final word was written.
Sometimes the waves were just too fucking tall to remain standing.
“So, this guy is talking to me the whole time at the bus stop, and I have no idea,” Zoe said, laughter crinkling the corner of her eyes. Her rich mahogany bob, styled in edgy waves, was tucked behind her ear on one side. She wasn’t wearing her hearing aids. Signing was more useful, something they’d learned together when Zoe had gotten her diagnosis. Sometimes Zoe signed, sometimes she spoke. Cerys always signed because Zoe found it most useful. Speaking and simultaneously signing could get clunky. Signing rarely translated directly into the spoken word, the sentences more concise in sign.
Cerys signed her answer to her best friend. “Tell me he was cute, at least.”
“Unfortunately, not. Anyway, how’s it working out with your dad?”
“Difficult,” she signed. “I can’t decide if he doesn’t really want me around or just can’t be bothered to take the time to get to know me. Either way, his indifference hurts.”
“Did you speak to him about the studio?” Zoe asked.
“I haven’t.” Cerys continued, “I didn’t want him to think I wanted money. I figured I’d get to know him a bit better first, but he isn’t making it easy. I just need a great reference so I can get a great job and in twelve months reapply.”
Zoe’s eyes went wide. She switched to signing, three fingers to either side of her mouth. “Wow. Who the fuck is that?”
She didn’t need to look to know, but she did anyway because she wanted to check he was okay after leaving the studio. He was pulling a T-shirt on over his head, the abs he’d shown her previously on full display. She turned back to the screen and grinned at Zoe.
“J-a-s-e P-a-l-m-e-r.” Maybe one day he’d earn a sign name from Zoe, like Cerys had from their Deaf BSL tutor, but until then, she signed out the letters.
“Should I ask what he’s doing with his shirt off?” Zoe signed.
“Not what you are imagining. At least, not yet.”
“Want me to start the fire?” Jase asked.
“Sure. Come meet my bestie, Zoe. You need to sign hello. A half circle wave with one hand. Kinda like a rainbow with your palm out.”
Jase dropped down onto the sofa next to her and slid his arm around her shoulder. “Hello, Zoe,” he said, signing as instructed.
“Hey, Jase,” Zoe replied. Cerys took in the look of confusion on Jase’s face.
“Zoe’s hearing loss is recent. She can speak, she just can’t hear.” She signed something similar to Zoe.
Zoe rolled her eyes and signed. “Why do people always assume Deaf people can’t speak clearly?”
“Nice to meet you,” Jase said.
Cerys signed for him.
“Nice to meet you too,” Zoe replied.
Cerys watched as he stood and began to clean out the fireplace. A loud whistle brought her attention back to the phone.
“Did you seriously just watch his arse as he walked away and forget we were on the phone?” Zoe grinned, her hands moving swiftly through the air as she switched to signing with Cerys.
Cerys laughed. “Yeah. I just did that. Not going to lie. It’s a really fine arse.”
“Is he from Detroit?”
She shook her head. “No. From Manchester, if you can believe it. He’s recording out here. Long story as to why we are now snowbound in Dad’s cottage on the lake.”
Zoe slapped a hand to her forehead. “You’re a walking Hallmark Christmas movie.”
She shrugged her shoulders as Jase loaded crumpled paper and kindling into the grate, feeling a little guilty that he had no idea what they were signing. “It might be a little more R-rated than that. Or it might become more tragic. He has baggage. Lots of it.”
Zoe tapped the sides of her two forefingers together. “Same.”
“Have you played at all?”
Zoe shook her head. “Let’s stay focused on the hot guy you keep staring at.”
Cerys let her deflect, knowing that while Zoe had adapted, she still struggled with the loss of her music career.
“Fine. We can talk about the hot guy. I should go make sure he doesn’t set fire to the place.”
“Literally with matches or figuratively with those abs?”
Cerys laughed. “Both?”
Zoe grinned, pointing at herself before crossing her arms over her chest then pointing at Cerys.
“I love you too,” Cerys signed. “Bye, lovely.”
Cerys sighed happily as she put the phone down.
“That’s a mindfuck that you can just go lose your hearing like that,” Jase said. “How do you know each other?”
“We studied at the Royal Northern together. Becoming an orchestral percussionist was all she ever talked about. Our house in Fallowfield was a disaster of musical instruments. I think she’d have a lot in common with Alex, but she stopped playing a year ago. Hasn’t picked up an instrument since the last of her hearing went.”
“I can’t imagine what I would do if I couldn’t hear and experience music.”
“You’d adapt,” Cerys said. “Like Zoe is doing. She can experience music and even enjoy it. She just won’t play it.”
The paper and kindling lit and Jase dropped back onto his heels. “I am caveman, hear me roar,” he said, gesturing to the fire. “Look at the beautiful stacking, Cerys. Tell me you haven’t seen a more inspiring fire.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. It’s lovely. Now get out of my way, because I intend to do some yoga.”