She blinked at me, her tears drying up. "You did?" she whispered. I nodded.
Her eyes searched my face for several seconds before she asked. "What'd you see?"
Thor, I spelled out.
She laughed softly and the sound was like music to my ears. "Did you like it?"
I loved it. I sat through it twice. I even ordered popcorn and a drink, even though there was a line of people behind me.
"How'd you do it?" She looked at me with wide eyes.
I had to point and gesture a little, but the kid got it. He was nice. I paused for a minute. I had this realization about a month after I'd been gone. Whenever I went somewhere and had to communicate with someone, and they'd see my scar and understand why I was gesturing, they each had a different reaction. Some people were awkward, uncomfortable, others were kind, helpful, and there were even some that were impatient and put-out. Bree's eyes softened and she was listening to me raptly.
I realized that people's reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me. It was like a bolt of lightening hit me, Bree.
Tears sprung to her eyes again and she reached out and touched my leg, just laying her hand on me.
She nodded. "It was like that with my dad too. What else?" she asked.
I got a job, I smiled and a look of surprise came over her face. I nodded. Yeah, I stopped in this small town in New York state and I saw an ad about needing guys to unload delivery trucks at the airport. I wrote a letter about my situation, explaining that I could hear and understand directions and that I was a hard worker, but that I couldn't speak. I handed it to the guy in person and he read it and hired me on the spot. I grinned with the memory of the pride I had felt in that moment.
It was boring work, but I got to know another guy there, Luis, and he spoke incessantly, telling me his life story while we worked. How he had come over from Mexico without knowing the language at all, how he still struggled to support his family, but that they were happy, they had each other. He talked a lot. I got the impression that no one had ever just listened to him. I smiled with the memory of my first real friend other than Bree.
He invited me to his home for Christmas dinner and his little girl learned a few signs before I got there, and I taught her a few more. I smiled, thinking of little Claudia. She asked me the sign for love and I spelled out your name.
Bree let out small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "So now she's going to go around saying, 'I Bree you?'" she asked, smiling softly.
I nodded. Yeah. I turned toward her more fully, focusing on her face. I stand by my logic though. I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is Bree.
We stared at each other for several beats, me drinking in her beauty, her sweet compassion. I had known that about her before, but not to the extent I did now.
Finally, she asked me, "What made you decide it was time to come home?"
I looked at her for a couple seconds, considering her question. I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.
Tears shimmered in her eyes again as she whispered, "And what if I hadn't been here when you got back?"
Then I would have come for you. I would have fought for you. But don't you see, I had to fight for myself first. I had to feel like I was someone worthy of winning you.
She stared at me for a second, more tears coming into her eyes. "How'd you get so brilliant?" she asked, letting out a small, breathy laugh and a small sniffle.
I was already brilliant. I just needed some world experience. I needed Thor.
She let out another small laugh and then grinned at me. You being funny?
I grinned back at her, noting that she was finally using her hands to speak. No, I never joke about Thor.
She laughed and then looked at me silently again, her face going serious.
Mine went serious too and I asked, Why did you stay, Bree? Tell me.
She breathed out, looking down at her hands in her lap for a second. Finally, she brought them up and said, Because I love you. Because I'd wait for you forever. She gazed into my eyes, her beauty taking my breath away again. Take me home, Archer, she said.
My heart soared as I started up the truck and pulled back onto the road. We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. When we were almost there, Bree reached her hand out for mine and we held hands between us for the remainder of the ride.
I pulled up in front of my house and we walked through the gate and down to my front door, not saying a word.
When we got inside and she turned to me, I said, You kept my house clean.
She looked around as if she was just remembering, and then nodded.
Why? I asked.
She seemed to consider. Because doing it made me feel like you were coming back, like you'd be home soon.
My heart squeezed tightly. I'm sorry, Bree.
She shook her head and looked up at me with wide, vulnerable eyes. Don't leave me again, please.
I shook my head and moved closer to her. Never again, I said and then took her in my arms. She lifted her mouth to mine and I pressed my lips to hers, silently moaning at the taste of her as I slipped my tongue into her mouth. I couldn't help the shiver that ran through my body as the taste of peaches and Bree exploded on my tongue. My c**k stiffened immediately and I pressed it in to her. She sighed into my mouth and impossibly, I got harder. It felt like a lifetime since I'd been inside of her.