Page 99 of Interpreter

“He told me to tell you that he’s coming today. He didn’t care what you wanted.”

I nod and ease her head forward. She laughs but puts her mouth back on me. “I’m not surprised,” I tell her. “And no more talk of Dr. Parker while my dick is in your mouth.”

Milah’s laugh vibrates against my dick, and I swear I almost come then. After a generous donation from the estate of Penelope Lambros, Dr. Parker opened a new center with a community outreach program, which Milah runs. Phillip, as I have now started calling him, reached out to Milah and offered her a position in his office. He saw how passionate she was and, for years, had wanted to have a community program. I wasn’t sure how receptive she would be since she had all of her things packed and ready to send to charity. But I think it helped when I ripped up her plane ticket and handed it to Felipe who set it on fire in one of the glass tumblers. We told her she wasn’t leaving, and I think until a few weeks ago, she didn’t believe us.

Milah’s mouth moves faster, and my hand tangles in her hair. We’re seriously doing this in the hospital bathroom. Her mouth takes me in as far as she can until I hit the back of her throat. Again, she doesn’t gag, and it sends a jolt of pleasure up my spine. But it’s her free hand, cupping my balls and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure, that has me coming down her throat without time to warn her.

I’m shaking with a fine sheen of sweat coating my forehead when she pulls off me and gives the head of my cock one slow lick that makes me flinch before she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Now you won’t need a sedative. You’ll be good and relaxed,” she teases.

That’s the fucking truth. I pull her from her knees and tug her to my chest. “I love you,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head.

She pulls back, swiping at her face. “I love you more.”

“Ms. Iglesias said not to ask you if you’re scared, but you are, aren’t you?”

The blow job sedative only lasted long enough for me to exit the bathroom and endure a few teasing remarks from the guys. They apparently heard the moans and had to run Oliver to the cafeteria for snacks. I only felt a little bad.

Children really have no verbal filters. Especially this one. But Oliver’s question isn’t meant to rub the fear in my face. He’s simply curious. This may be him one day, and he’ll need someone who will tell him the truth.

I tug on the baggy fabric of the hospital gown to readjust it for no other reason than to buy myself time to answer. Oliver fidgets, his little hands fighting the impulse to press one of the buttons on the side of the bed. It makes me smile.

I pat the stiff mattress. “Come here, kiddo.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His small body hops up next to me and settles in, resting his head on my shoulder. We stare out into the small surgical holding room where my family has squeezed in. The staff tried telling Anniston that only two people could be back here at one time. As you can tell, that rule was bent, but not because of Anniston. This time is was Felipe who apparently knew the administrator on call. He was a known frequenter of the bar and had met his husband there. Needless to say, he was happy to return a favor.

The TV plays in the background as my family’s mouths move rapidly. I guarantee you they’re being loud and cracking jokes at each other’s expense. Felipe and Marcus fit right in, and when I look closer, I notice Theo and Hayes pulling their shirts up, both of their backs facing Felipe.

“What are you two doing?” I ask them.

Theo turns his head and rolls his eyes. “Felipe is finally putting an end to Hayes’s bragging.”

I look at them both confused. Felipe winks. “I’m judging whose rear end looks the best.”

I’m not surprised at all when they turn back around, holding still, so Felipe can look at their asses. The shenanigans are comforting, and I find myself chuckling when Oliver’s body shakes against me. “Don’t turn out like them, okay?”

Oliver nods, agreeing, and then his hands begin to sign. He’s been using sign language more and more lately. It’s becoming second nature. Before today, that would have hurt my heart to see him sign so much, but not now. Now, I’m happy to see that he’s using the options available to him. No one should have to feel like they can’t experience all that life has to offer.

“You never answered me,” he signs, a frown tugging at his mouth.

I muss his hair and offer him a timid smile and the truth. I don’t speak. I only sign to him.

“I’m scared,”I admit. “But do you know what terrifies me more than this surgery?”

He shakes his head.

I reach for his shoulder and squeeze.“I’m scared that if I don’t try… then I will miss out on all the wonderful things life can offer me.”

Like the baby Milah and I are expecting next fall. It was unexpected and, frankly, I lost my mind for a little bit. But then Dr. Parker intervened and offered me and Milah genetic testing. I thought about it but declined. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter if this child is born with four or five senses, he or she will be loved all the same. Nothing will stop me from giving him or her the life they deserve. We haven’t told anyone yet, since Anniston just announced that, she too, is pregnant again. My sweet little Aspen is going to be a big sister, and soon, the McCallister-Jameson Foundation will be full of little feet and a lot of sleepless adults.

I smile and push at Oliver.

“Also, don’t think I won’t still kick your butt on the PlayStation when we get home,”I challenge the little boy, hoping to change the subject.

That’s another thing. Hayes and Bianca weren’t the only ones to move out. After speaking with Principal Moorehouse about Milah’s job—which he couldn’t do anything about—he offered me a position helping Ms. Peak until she retires, at which point, I would take over and run the music class. I’m in the process of getting my teaching certificate, which I will need, along with my new sense of hearing. In the meantime, I bought a house, moved Milah in, and signed up for foster parent courses, which I finished a couple of days ago. Now, it’s only a matter of days before Oliver can move into his new room and I can file the paperwork to adopt him.

Some days, I can’t believe the course my life took. Six months ago, I hated the world and was happy to waste the days away. I wanted no kids of my own, and here I am, expecting and in the process of adopting. I went from thinking no kids to two kids, with the possibility of more. But I knew I had to adopt Oliver. I think I knew the first time I laid eyes on him that he was destined to be mine. No one would be better equipped to raise him than me. Sure, I had to work through some of my own shit. And, sure, Milah had to remind me that no parent is perfect, but as long as we try and love that child with everything we have, then we are the perfect parents for him. I’m not sure I believe that fully, but I do know that no one will love this boy more than me and Milah. And no one will make sure he experiences every moment life has to offer more than me.

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