Page 22 of Quiet
“Briar, my love, it’s so nice to hear from you!” Briar’s aunt’s soft, Irish accent was a soothing balm to Briar’s overworked nervous system.
“Marie! Briar’s on the phone! Get in here!”
“I’m coming, Fiona, just let me wash my hands.” Briar’s mother’s muffled voice came through faintly.
In Briar’s mind’s eye, he saw his mom looking slightly frazzled, but happy as she dried her hands on the apron she always wore. If she wasn’t in the kitchen, she was working in her pottery studio. It was close to dinnertime, so it was probably the kitchen.
“I’m here, my darling boy. What can I do for you?”
Briar opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He coughed and tried again. Nothing.
“Briar?” His mom’s voice held a hint of worry.
His screen told him his mom wanted to video chat, and he accepted.
The faces of the people he loved most popped on screen. Both women had matching streaks of flour on their faces. They’d been in the kitchen.
Briar tried once again to talk, but nothing happened.
“What’s wrong, baby?” His mother’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern.
Briar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. These were the women who raised him. If he couldn’t talk to them, he couldn’t talk to anyone. And he needed to talk to someone.
He opened his eyes and tried again. “I . . . scared someone. Grabbed them.”
“What did they do?” his aunt asked darkly.
Her belief that Briar wouldn’t attack a person unprovoked loosened something inside him, and the words flowed a little freer.
“He said something. About someone.”
“One of your friends?” his mom asked.
Was Isa a friend? “Um . . .” Briar shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I didn’t like what he said.”
His mom and aunt exchanged glances and did the thing where they got all mysterious about something they weren’t planning on cluing Briar in on. To this day he couldn’t figure out if it was a parent thing, or a neurotypical thing. Whatever the case, it was annoying.
“You aren’t talking about Alex or Bea . . .” His mom mused. She was an incredibly intuitive woman, and Briar was lucky to have her in his life. “This is a new person, isn’t it?”
Briar looked away from the screen and scowled. Just because he liked how easy it was to talk to her, didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying when she got too perceptive about things he’d rather she not know about.
“Something like that.”
“Is it a girl?”
Briar shook his head. “I can’t stop drawing him.”
His mom made a little O with her mouth, and his aunt raised her eyebrows. Both women were doing their best not to look at each other.
“And he’s easy to talk to.”
“. . .”
“And he smells nice.”
“!!!”
Both women were clutching each other’s hands and acting extremely weird.
