Page 88 of The Voice We Find

“I want you to be my hearing partner, to voice my story in English, while I tell it in ASL.”

I wait till after I turn onto her street so I can swallow down the lump in my throat before I answer. “I’d be honored.”

“Thank you,” she says, right before I see her knee begin to bounce.“Also, I have these ... um ... voice recordings things. They’re kind of like a spoken journal, I guess. In the beginning, the doctors weren’t sure how much the swelling in my brain would affect me long-term or what I’d be able to remember. They weren’t sure if my hearing would return or not at that point. And since my right arm was broken, one of the nurses suggested I use this voice memo app and start recording what I could remember about the accident—or anything for that matter—just in case I needed it.” She fidgets in her seat. “The memos transcribe what I say, so it’s kind of like writing, but much faster and with better grammar. Plus, it kept my voice active when I couldn’t do much else.”

Compassion and sadness grip me so hard at her pronouncement. Picturing vibrant, gregarious, wise-beyond-her-years Gabby suffering in a hospital bed after the loss of her parents makes it difficult to take a full breath.

“Sounds like cool technology. What did you talk about in the memos?”

“Random stuff at first, things that happened once I was back home when August came to live with me. I figured I’d stop recording at some point and switch to a real journal, but I never have. It’s sort of a habit now, something I look forward to doing when I have a minute alone and just want to decompress.” She clears her throat. “I was hoping to send a few of them to you—the memos, I mean. Most of them are under five minutes, so they shouldn’t take a lot of time to listen to, but there’s one I recorded that’s pretty important to me. I describe what happened after the accident. I’d like to see if I can make it into a monologue script for stage. If you think I can, I was hoping you might help me write it in a way that could work well for ASL and for English.”

I’m pulling into the Tates’ driveway now and doing my best to keep my many conflicting emotions at bay as I shift the car into Park. I reach for her hand across the center console. “Of course, Gabby. I’ll help with anything you need.”

There are tears in her voice as she holds on to me. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

She nods. “I’ll send a few of them over to you tonight, then.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Suddenly, her grip tightens as we see her brother open the front door and head for the driveway toward us. “But you can’t tell August.”

I’m so stunned by her panicked plea that my face has no time to apply a play-it-cool expression.

“But why?”

“Please, Sophie,” she repeats as August approaches the driver’s side. “Don’t tell him about the voice memos or the showcase. I need to do this on my own, in my own way and time.” She stares at me straight on. “Promise?”

“Okay, yes,” I assure her. “I promise.”

After a brief squeeze, she pops open her door and races down the driveway toward the house, not bothering with more than a quick hello to August.

Despite the chilly air outside, I roll down my window to greet him, but he’s too busy tracking his sister’s sprint inside.

“What was all that about?” he asks.

I have no answer to offer because I, too, am clueless.

His brow dips into a V. “I thought Portia was taking her home tonight.”

“Uh, she was, but Gabby asked if I could give her a ride instead.”

“Why?”

I pinch my lips closed in what is likely the most suspicious improv gesture on the planet.

“Ah,” he says with a level of amusement that surprises me. “I get it. Girl talk.” He taps the top of the window frame. “Or probably more specifically, boy talk.”

“Yep.” ThePpops on the word. “You guessed it.”

My nod is as exaggerated as they come.

But then his pleasant expression shifts to mortification. “Wait, she wasn’t asking you about ... something physical, right?” He grips the back of his head. “Did she tell you they were—”

And then it clicks. “Oh, no! No, no! Gosh, no. They’ve only just had their first kiss.”

“What?!” he all but howls through the darkened neighborhood. “They’ve kissed?”

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