Page 35 of The Voice We Find

“I’ll walk you out, Sophie.” It’s not the first time August has escorted me down the driveway to say good-bye; it’s just the first time he’s announced it. Perhaps because we both know there’s more to say to each other than a simple “See you tomorrow.”

I collect my stuff from the booth and tell Gabby it was lovely to meet her.

A few minutes later as I walk down the driveway with August toward the Wine-Calade, I admit, “I feel bad I had to say no.”

“Don’t be. She just had a month of playtime at camp. She’ll be fine.”

I stop at the curb and look up at him, shielding my eyes from the blazing sun over the tree line separating his house from the neighbors. There are so many things I want to ask, but I’m still not sure how or even if he wants me to.

“You can ask,” he prompts gently. “To be fair, I should have told you before today. I owe you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

He raises his bandaged hand. “I think you’re forgetting the last thirteen days.”

I give an uncomfortable laugh. “I just mean, I want to respect your personal life.”

He looks down at his feet, and for several seconds, I wonder if I’ve given him the out he needs and if I should just say good-bye now and be on my way. Whatever we’ve shared in these last two weeks has been fun and unexpected and maybe even the perfect kind of distraction—at least for me. But there is obviously so much we don’t know about each other. And maybe it’s better it stays that way. Maybe—

“Our parents died two years ago in a train accident overseas,” he begins. “They adopted Gabby at the age of six from Colombia when I was a senior in high school. She was traveling with them on that train, and she suffered a head trauma that resulted in unilateral hearing loss. Her cochlear nerve was completely severed in her right ear, and there’s only a trace amount of residual hearing in her left, depending on the frequency. Her condition is ... unstable. Our parents named me her legal guardian, and I moved back as soon as she was out of the hospital.”

For the second time today, my eyes grow misty. Only this time it isn’t due to fiction. It’s real. And it’s beyond heartbreaking.

I search his face, trying to process the crushing words he’s just spoken, and failing to come up with any of my own. Perhaps there are no words for this at all.

“It’s quite the conversation killer, isn’t it?” he teases darkly.

“August.” I close my eyes, swallow. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s perfect.”

“What?” I glance up at him again, confused. “What’s perfect?”

“That you don’t know. Nobody does. Heck, I don’t even know what to say about it half the time, and it’s my life. My story.” He combs his good hand through his hair, making a mess of the golden waves. I want to reach up and fix it. But really, I want to fix so much more than that for him. And for his precious sister, too.

I take out my phone then, trying not to think about the man who will answer on the other end, or any future consequences of askinghim for a favor now. Instead, I’m thinking only of a sixteen-year-old girl who shares the same passion I once did at her age and the small gift I can offer her by showing up to a dinner party she’s invited me to.

“What are you doing?” August asks as I tap Jasper’s contact.

“Calling my brother.”

“Sophie, no. You really don’t have to—”

“Hello?” The female voice on the other end of the line surprises me.

“Hello? Is ... is Jasper there?”

“Hi, Sophie. This is Natalie.” Strange as it is that I don’t recognize my own sister-in-law’s voice, I can’t remember the last time we spoke on the phone.

“Oh, hey. Um, I had a question for him. About tonight.”

“Jasper just stepped out for a minute. Is it something I can answer for you?” The surrealness of this interaction isn’t lost on me. Nobody speaks for Jasper, least of all Natalie, who up until recently rarely spoke at all. Especially where I’m concerned.

“Maybe? I’m in Petaluma right now, about to head back for my shift later this evening, but some friends have invited me over for dinner. I was wondering if I might be able to rearrange my work schedule and trade tonight’s shift for a double tomorrow. I just needed to ask if I could keep the Escalade tonight and get the name of whoever’s scheduled so I can see about a switch.”

She’s quiet for a second. “I’ll take it for you.”

I squint into the sun and then look at the pavement, trying to orient myself. “You’ll take what?”

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