Page 20 of The Voice We Find

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t...” Aunt Judy takes a moment to recalibrate. “All I’m trying to say is that you are important to this family—to me and to your sister, especially. She counts on you.”

“There is nothing I think about more than Gabby.” The statement comes out stronger than I intend, but between the throb in my palm and the insinuation that I might be unaware of Gabby’s dependence on me, I leave it as it stands. Without apology.

“I know,” she says, backpedaling as she reaches to touch my arm. “You are a wonderful big brother, August.” She smiles then, as if she’s called a silent truce. “You made the right decision allowing her to attend this camp, you know? When I popped in on her a few days ago, she looked so happy. I think spending such a concentrated amount of time with the deaf community has been good for her.”

We both know it was Judy’s persuasive phone call and camp fee donation that got me to agree, but I can’t help but feel relieved at her report, even if I don’t fully agree with her reasoning. “She’s always made friends easily. And I’m sure it helped to know a couple familiar faces when she arrived.”

“I’d say that’s true.” Her expression shifts into something almost mischievous. “Although, you should probably know she seems to be drawn to one face in particular.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Tyler seems to have become more than a friend.”

My mind refuses to compute. “Tyler? As in her ASL and speech tutor’s son?”

“Yes.” She nods. “Of course, I’m sure that’s not too surprising, considering you’ve allowed him to give her rides to church events over the last few months.”

My tongue has suddenly been sucked free of moisture. “That’s only because they live five minutes from us. We’re literally on the way.”

She hikes an eyebrow, and I begin a mental moonwalk back through the last year, to when Gabby first saw the flyer for the big church in town with the “deaf-friendly culture” and ASL interpretation of the sermons at her tutor’s office. Gabby begged me to let her attend, and I simply didn’t have the heart to say no to her even if church was the last place I wanted to be.

“Tyler’s eighteen,” I protest. “He just graduated. He’s too old for her.”

“She’s half a year away from turning seventeen. Technically speaking, they’re only a grade apart.”

Of all the topics we’ve discussed in relation to Gabby—my household budget, my job security, my sister’s medical needs, her grief therapy sessions online with a captioning system that Aunt Judy financed before summer break—the subject ofboyshas never come up.

A nervous prickle sweeps my spine. “Gabby has goals. She isn’t interested in ... in a relationship like that.” But even as I say it, I hear how idiotic I sound.

Aunt Judy glances at the blood-soaked paper towel around my left hand, then grabs the fresh roll off the counter. She offers me a few more squares, and I do a wordless exchange as I rewrap my angry flesh.

After a sigh, she leans against the counter. “It might be hard for you to hear, but she cares for him. And given the smitten way he tends to her, I’d say he cares for her, too. She’s growing up.”

A sensation like I’ve never known catches fire at the base of my ribs. My sister is too young for what Aunt Judy is describing, isn’t she? A sudden image of her riding atop my shoulders with braided pigtails and a toothless grin plays like a short film in my mind.

“She’s not allowed to date.” This is the first time I’ve spoken these words, but they feel right. Needed, even.

She hikes a groomed eyebrow at me. “As I recall, your parents allowedyouto date at sixteen.”

“That’s different, I was a...” I rake my good hand through my hair.Why is it a thousand degrees in this house?I cross the room to the thermostat and hit the down arrow. Repeatedly.

“A what? A boy?” she finishes with a laugh. “Afraid you’re going to need a better argument than that, sweetheart. Tyler’s a good kid from a solid family, but you already know that. Gabby could do far worse for a first boyfriend.” Aunt Judy says this as if that’s what he is now—a boyfriend. Sweat prickles the back of my neck.

“The two of them have been hard at work on a project during their free time at camp, a curriculum to assist Tyler’s mom in teaching an ASL class in early fall.”

I try not to act as bothered as I feel by this. “Where?”

“I’m not sure on the location, but I do know they’re hoping to advertise it at the church.”

The big grin on Aunt Judy’s face when she says this is not surprising. She believes church is the solution to every ailment we face in life, while I tend to believe the church is the reason my parents are dead and my sister is deaf.

“I’ll talk it over with her once she’s back home,” I amend civilly, knowing full well that Gabby is smart enough to recognize that her summer camp schedule is far from real life. While she may be enjoying a world of freedom in the woods with new friends now, her fall is full. Especially with the classes she’s hoping to take for dual-enrollment credits toward college. I’m not sure assisting with an ASL class will be a priority. “Between her schooling, her online therapy, doctor appointments, tutoring sessions, and her church commitments, her fall schedule is pretty packed.”

Aunt Judy nods, but it’s the kind of nod that could fill a couple paragraphs if her brain were to dump all the words she’s not speaking onto a page. I bend my arm at the elbow, hoping to appease some of the pressure in my palm. And if I’m honest, the pressure building under my aunt’s gaze, too.

“Your sister is doing remarkably well, August.” She smiles, andthe crinkles at the corners of her brown eyes remind me of my dad. “To see her thriving again—laughing, teasing, acting like a boy-crazy teenager without limitation or insecurity was ... well, it was good for my heart. And more importantly, I believe it’s been good for Gabby’s heart.”

I say nothing to this because I sense there’s more to it. She’s already thanked me for letting Gabby attend, already told me about the boy who’s wiggled his way past friendship territory, so what is—

---