“She took the place of my late mother and gave me a real home……”
The spotlight swung to Constance Fox, and my son caught sight of me. His face went pale. Not a trace of joy in it.
The next second, a text came through on my phone:
“Who told you to come here? Don't say anything stupid.”
After the interview, Constance took my hand.
“Since you've come all this way, come sit at our place. Come taste my cooking too.”
Before I could get out an excuse, I caught two figures moving through the crowd toward us.
Eric Sanchez walked in front, full of himself, Joseph Sanchez trailing behind him.
Joseph had aged a great deal.
The clear, innocent eyes of his youth were hidden now behind glasses, and they landed on me.
“Who's this? Since when does every stray cat and dog get to wander into an Ivy League interview?”
Every word I had jammed in my throat.
I had waited ten years for him, and now he was treating me like a stranger.
I held the tears back, refusing to let them fall.
Constance nudged Joseph's arm and cooed at him.
“Has it been so long since you saw your distant cousin that you don't even recognize her?”
“She came all this way from the countryside. Just now she was telling me how wonderful Eric is.”
At the word cousin, the frown on Joseph's face eased.
The look he turned on me softened, a flicker of something almost like regret.
“It's been too many years. You're right, I forgot.”
Then he turned to our son.
“I remember you know sign language. Ask your aunt what she came for.”
Eric stepped forward and signed to me.
“Don't go typing things on your phone. Once Mom's gone, Dad will explain everything to you.”
I raised my hands, trembling a little, and signed back: “Why……are you calling someone else Mom?”
Disgust flashed through my son's eyes. He flicked his hands at me, impatient.
“You're a mute. How am I supposed to claim you in public? What would my classmates and teachers think of me?”
“You dragged my dad down. Now you want to drag me down too?”
Drag him down?
I smiled bitterly.
I wasn't born mute. Once, I could speak just like anyone else.
Seeing our hands go still, Constance asked Eric to translate what we'd said.
My son slipped on a gentle, obedient expression. “Auntie says she just wanted to visit. She'll head back in a little while.”
The woman frowned, puzzled. “All that signing for just a few words?”
Joseph gave a small, mocking laugh.
“Mutes are more trouble to deal with. Never mind your cousin. Let's go home, honey.”
“Our son and I have been craving your braised short ribs.”
With that, the two of them closed in on either side of Constance, trying to steer her away.
But Constance turned back, caught the strap of my bag, and scolded them.
“It wasn't easy for her to come all this way. It'd be shameful not to have her over.”
Then she smiled at me, trying to reassure me.
“Cousin, let's go home and eat first, and tonight I'll take you around the mall.”
“You can leave the next day. Is that all right?”
I ignored the signs my son kept flashing at me to refuse.
I nodded and got into the car with Constance.
Inside, Joseph took the driver's seat and Constance rode up front.
Eric sat with me in the back, and the moment the car pulled off he flung his hands at me, frantic.
“Why haven't you left yet? What is it you actually want?”
My hands were shaking a little, so my signing came slow.
“I only wanted to see you……”
My son sat across from me, his jaw clenched tight.
“You've seen me. Can you go now?”
“And I'm warning you. If you say anything crazy to my mom, I won't forgive you.”
My fingers stopped in midair, and the sting in my eyes wouldn't stop rising.
