I jumped at the loud thump, turning as footsteps pattered down the hall toward us.
Sari stared at me wide-eyed, soon scuttling to her dad and pressing her cherubic cheek against his leg.
In one smooth motion, Jake lifted her. “Playing shy?” He tipped Sari’s chin up with one finger and said, “It’s Amara. Remember?” He signed smoothly as he spoke to his little girl. “Say hello.”
Sari fluttered her fingers, then hid her face, peeking as I approached.
“Hi, Sari. What a pretty dress.” I filled in the words with signs where I could. “Did you pick it?”
She nodded and rewarded me with a tiny smile before pointing at the easel set up in the corner of the living room, following with a hand motion.
“You want to colour?” Jake set her on her feet.
Sari tugged at me, pulling me toward the easel.
“I guess we’re colouring,” I said, allowing the little girl to lead me. I kneeled beside her, taking the marker she held out. “Why, thank you. I love blue.”
Jake was observing, I could feel it, but he soon headed into the kitchen. “I’ll just put these on,” he said, peeking around the corner and motioning to the platter in his hand. Seconds later, the sliding door off the kitchen squealed and clicked, followed by a clank that sounded like the lid of the barbecue.
The little girl tapped my arm, grinning as she created a swath of purple across the paper, then chose a fuchsia marker, adding to the colour.
“It looks like a rainbow.” I nodded and smiled while making a mental note to look up the sign for rainbow.
Soon the slider squealed and clicked again, and Jake appeared, raising his brows as he caught my eye. “Okay?” he mouthed.
I smiled and nodded, fluttering my fingers in a “we’re fine” gesture, and he retreated into the kitchen.
Sari dropped her marker into the easel’s tray and toddled to the nearby bookshelf. She stared at the selection then chose a glossy green board book, waving it at me before clambering onto to the sofa.
“Oh, dinosaurs. You like these guys, huh?”
She looked at me with bright eyes, motioning with her hands, then making a sweeping motion over the book with her fingers.
“Okay, second one, was read, right? What’s this?” I copied her first motion.
Sari pointed at the dinosaur on the front cover and motioned again.
“Dinosaur?” I clapped my hands. “Clever girl. You’re teaching me to sign.”
Jake, who was setting the table in the small dining area adjacent to the living room, winked at me. “You’re a fast learner.”
“She wants me to read. What do I do?”
“Let her look at the pictures, then when she looks at you, point at the page and try to sign it. That’s her favourite book, so pay attention to what she does if you don’t know the ASL or spell it out. Use facial expressions too.”
Sari patted my knee, then jabbed at the book. She lifted both hands, tapping the tips of her fingers together.
“Oh … more?” As I copied the movement, a small laugh escaped. “Sorry. You want me to pay attention, right?”
Sari made the “more” motion again and pointed to the first page.
“Happy dinosaur.” As we worked through page by page, I copied Sari, though I’d learned many of the signs in my online course.
Jake disappeared again, the now familiar squeak and click telling me he’d gone out to check on dinner. “I have to fix that door,” he said when he returned. He crouched beside the couch, waving to catch his daughter’s attention. “Hungry, Sari?” He tapped his lips.
Sarina nodded and patted his cheek.
“Use your words. Do you want to eat?” he asked, repeating the signs.
His daughter nodded again, but this time she tapped her lips.
“It’s important to encourage her to sign everything. Can’t let up for a second.” He ruffled the girl’s hair. “Can you help her wash and put her in the highchair? The bathroom is down the hall.”
“Let’s wash those hands, Sari.” I carried her to the bathroom and stood her on the low stool in front of the sink.
She rubbed her hands together and stretched on tiptoe toward the taps.
“Yes, wash,” I said, mimicking her motion before turning on the water, watching as she picked up the small bar of soap, creating a lather. “Good job.” Once she was done, I followed her into the dining room and buckled her into her seat, mimicking her again as she tapped her lips.
“Daddy,” I said, flattening my right hand and tapping my forehead with my thumb, “is bringing dinner.”
“Still learning online, huh?” Jake set a plate with tiny bits of steak, potato, and carrots in front of his daughter and headed toward the kitchen.
“I got in the habit. It only takes fifteen minutes a day.”
Jake returned, balancing plates on one arm with the skill of a professional server, a bottle of wine grasped in his other hand. “I wish her grandmother would adopt that attitude.”
I sat back as Jake placed the loaded plate in front of me. “What’s this?” With narrowed eyes, I poked at the steak before turning the skewer of shrimp and scallops.
“Dinner?” One brow rose as he poured a portion of burgundy liquid into my glass. “It’s not up to your discerning standards?”
All I could see through my tear-filled eyes was her, the other woman, sitting in this very chair, eating our special meal, surrounded by the deceased her. It took full effort to avoid the accusing stare of the woman clad in cream satin, holding a multi-hued bouquet of pink peonies.
“I was kidding.” Jake turned my chair, crouching as he pressed his palm against my
