Page 4 of Interpreter

I dig into the plate of food she brought, a sandwich and potato salad.

“What was for dinner?” I can’t stop myself from asking. I haven’t missed a meal with my family since I’ve come here. I know they didn’t have sandwiches.

“Don’t tell me you missed the chaos,” she says, her hands moving through the signs before shoving at my shoulder.

I didn’t miss it at the time, but now, as I eat a cold sandwich alongside a sleeping baby, I think I missed it a little. At the McCallister-Jameson Foundation, there is never a shortage of ribbing and smart-ass comments. But around the dinner table, there is a whole lot of laughter. I usually just sit there and shake my head at the craziness, but sometimes I’ll join in—especially if someone rags on Theo. It’s fun to piss him off.

“We had shepherd’s pie,” she tells me. “But since you weren’t there, Hayes polished off what was left over.”

I chuckle. “I bet he did.” Hayes will eat everything if you let him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”She doesn’t speak the words but signs them instead.

I shake my head, opting for a universal signal that I’d rather not.

Anniston’s mouth opens and her chest expands before she closes it. I grin, fighting the urge to laugh. She wants to drill me with questions, but she’s treating me delicately at the moment, and that kills my soul. My family, especially Anniston, has always treated me the same as the others. She’s never once spared me in training or in her epic lectures. So for her to be holding back what she really wants to say destroys a small piece of me.

“Don’t do this,” I beg her quietly. “Don’t coddle me.”

For a moment, she just sits there, searching for something that I’m not sure she finds, but eventually, a smirk takes over her frown.

“Good. I’m glad we got that out of the way. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you in the morning.” She rises from the bed, her eyes still focused on me, her hands signing furiously. “Breck bought you a sunrise alarm clock. Don’t ask me what it is. If you want to know, talk to Breck. She’s been googling between stress-baking. There is a shit ton of cookies that you will go down there and eat.” She pauses for a moment. “Well, if Theo, Cade, and Hayes left any. They were throwing them back when I was—”

I grin at her slipup. “Eavesdropping?” I offer.

She shrugs. “I was checking on Aspen.”

Uh-huh. Sure she was.

“Whatever. Just know Cade is leading the run in the morning, and he expects you to be there before we head to the doctor’s office.”

This is the commander I know. This is the woman that pushes you hard and never lets you quit even if you beg her.

“Figure out how to work your new alarm clock.” She eyes the door, and I’d bet Aspen a whole bag of crackers that her Aunt Breck is lurking outside.

“I’m sure Breck can help me,” I say, eyeing the door as Anniston takes a step back.

“I’ll be back to get the munchkin later,” she promises, taking one more step toward the door and pausing.

I want to say I don’t expect what she does next, but I’ve lived with Anniston way too long to not expect her to eat up the space between us in a few long strides and throw her arms around my neck, nearly spilling my food. I grunt, letting my commander hug me until her breathing returns to normal. Well, until two more sweet-smelling bodies wrap around us, creating one big group hug.

I was wrong.

It wasn’t just Breck lurking behind the door. It was all three women in the house. And even then, when they loosen their grip enough for me to peer over their shoulders, I see every single one of my brothers standing out in the hall, watching their girls hug the shit out of me.

I’m so overwhelmed by everything that all I can do is laugh while hugging Anniston, Breck, and Bianca. Then in the most loving gesture known to mankind, I flip off my brothers.

Oorah.

“Surgery can correct this, Tim.”

The paper lining the exam table crinkles under me. It’s annoying. The paperandthe regurgitated spiel coming out of my otolaryngologist’s mouth.

We’ve been down this road before. Many, many times. Every year I go through the same range of tests, and he says the same exact thing: hearing aids in the meantime. Surgery for a permanent solution. Surgery, in most cases, corrects otosclerosis, which is what I have thanks to my inherited genes. I have an abnormality of the calcium in the small bones of my inner ear. As I age, the bones stop vibrating and I lose my hearing. Like yesterday.

Again, this is shit I already know.

I heard it when I attended appointments with my mother, and now I get my own special brand of hell by watching my doctor sign the same speech she heard a million and four times.

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