Page 38 of The Voice We Find

“Oh my gosh, really? It’s what we hoped would happen!”

August leans over. “She uses a special video app that provides real time captioning and can pair directly into her hearing aids. As long as she’s wearing them.” He says this last part under his breath.

After Gabby carries on for another minute or so, smiling and giggling without a care in the world, August sets his fork on his plate and stares at his sister pointedly. But Gabby pays no mind to him at all, not even when her brother goes uncomfortably quiet beside me.

“Do you know who she’s talking to?” I whisper.

“I believe I do,” he says flatly.

Gabby laughs into the screen again. “I will, I promise.” She looks at her watch. “Um, maybe in an hour or so? We’re still eating dinner, and we have a guest over.” She lowers her phone momentarily and flashes me a quick grin, which I return, despite the frosty presence to my left.

Once she resumes wrapping up her conversation, I glance at August expectantly.

“I’m guessing it’s Tyler.” He says this as if he’s just spoken the name of a wanted criminal.

“Are they dating?”

I see him flinch at the same time Gabby hangs up and places her phone on the table beside her plate. Either she’s choosing not to notice her brother’s recent rigor mortis, or she’s happily oblivious.

I’m going with option two.

“Tyler says hi,” she announces to us both.

“Oh? Hi back.” I make sure my face reflects only nonjudgmental curiosity when I ask, “Did you meet him at camp?”

She shakes her head. “No, I met him here. We were introduced a little over a year ago by his mom. She’s my ASL and speech tutor. He just called to tell me the best news!”

She’s practically levitating out of her seat with excitement. But still, August remains mute, contemplative. I encourage her to continue with her story even though what I really want is to elbow her brother in the ribs and tell him to snap out it.

“So,” Gabby says conversationally, “while we were at camp, the two of us began to dream up ways we could bring some of the more immersive ASL teaching methods we experienced this summer into the greater community. Tyler called his mom to ask if she’d be willing to teach a class if we agreed to help out as mentors. She was pretty excited about it and called Pastor Kreissig, who just told her we can announce it at churchthisSunday!” Gabby pinches her lips closed and does a little jig that’s impossibly cute. “Tyler’s working on a save-the-date handout for anyone who’s interested, since the class won’t begin until September.” She presses her hands to her pinked cheeks. “It’s just so neat to see everything coming together like we imagined it—the location, the time, and now a huge amount of exposure on a main stage in the community. That’s, like, seventeen hundred people if you add up both services.” Her eyes go wide, but I don’t see even the slightest hint of nerves. This girl would do amazingly well on a stage, no doubt. “Tyler and I need to work on our announcement script tonight since we only have tomorrow to practice our blocking.”

“Blocking?” I question. “Are you doing a skit?”

“More like a sixty second commercial. We just need to make sure we get it right.” She swivels her gaze to August, and I watch her deflate as soon as she registers his unenthusiastic response. “You’ll be there, won’t you, August? I’ve never been on stage at church before.”

He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, his voice is softer than I expect. “I thought we agreed before you left for camp that you wouldn’t take on any new commitments without checking with me first.”

Despite what I’d consider to be a nonconfrontational tone, she bristles. “I told you about it in my texts.”

“No,” August says matter-of-factly. “You told me you were enjoying camp and making friends and hoping to do more with them when you came home. It was Aunt Judy who told me you were making specific plans to start a class.” He waits a beat and picks up his ice water. “And that wasn’t all she told me.”

I see the instant Gabby’s mood switches from offense to defense. “Are you talking about Tyler?”

August pushes his plate away. “You tell me.”

“Um...” I look between the two of them and stand to clear the dishes. “I should go so that you two can—”

“No.” They both say in unison. “Stay.”

Awkwardly, I sit back down.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Gabby asks her brother with a shrug. “That we have feelings for each other? That he makes me happy? That he’s the kindest, most caring person I’ve ever known?”

I see August wince, and then I get it. He’s never done this before. This girl-talk session is brand-new territory for him. Empathy strums my ribcage like a stringed instrument.

“Was Tyler the friend who gave you a ride home from camp?” August asks.

“Yes, Aunt Judy said it was fine. Why should she have to drive two hours out of her way when Tyler lives five minutes from here—”

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