Jess realized her mistake as soon as she approached the child. She hadn’t been ignoring her at all. The clearly startled expression on her face when Jess reached her side told her she hadn’t heard when Jess had said hello from behind her.
She had a hearing impairment.
Jess had enough experience working with small children that she had a rudimentary knowledge of sign language. Crouching down to eye level with her, she signed hello.
The child’s response was a wide smile and a small wave.
My name is Jess.
The little girl spelled out her name in ASL. Sonya.
Hello, Sonya. I’m so happy to meet you.
That earned her another smile.
Jess pointed to the bulletin board the girl had been staring at when she’d come upon her. Specifically, her gaze seemed to be focused on a flyer announcing the summer play. Jess and a couple of other teachers had volunteered to help the children put together an elementary performance of Mother Goose.
If the girl was new in town, the play might be a perfect way to get her acclimated to her new community. Jess pointed to the caption on the flyer that read Parts Still Available. Then she pointed to Sonya’s chest.
“Would you like to be in the play? There are still spots open, and we’ve only just begun rehearsals. I’m one of the teachers in charge. And we’d love to have you.”
Sonya seemed to understand at least the gist of what Jess was asking her. She tapped her finger on the flyer once more. The little girl’s eyes widened as she pondered the question.
Her impairment wouldn’t be a problem at all, Jess figured. They could certainly adapt a part that would work for her easily enough. At this age, the children were so young, none of them were actually saying many lines anyway.
“What do you think?” Jess asked. “Would you like to be in the play?”
The glass door of the office opened just then and a harsh male voice suddenly boomed behind her. A somewhat familiar voice, at that.
“What in devil’s name?”
She turned to find the last person in the world she’d been expecting here. The cranky grouch from the other night. The one who’d yelled at her about her castle.
Hard to believe, but he seemed even more upset with her now than he’d been then.
* * *
Jordan’s surprise at seeing the young artist again quickly turned to ire when he realized what she was up to. Had she really just asked Sonya to be in some sort of preschool performance? What could she possibly be thinking? To think for a split second, when he’d first seen her out here in this hallway, he’d actually felt grateful at the prospect of being able to apologize for his behavior the other night. As if.
She straightened at his question. “What are you doing here?” she demanded to know, her eyes shooting daggers his way.
Not that it was any of her business, but he responded to her question, the one she’d asked with scorn and derision clear in her voice. As if she should be the one to be outraged in the current scenario. “I’m signing her up for swimming classes.” Jordan wanted to get the errand out of the way first thing after they’d settled in. The L-shaped pool in his new backyard was deep enough to be concerning. Not to mention the Atlantic Ocean a stone’s throw away.
He didn’t really have time to stand here and answer her questions. The woman was a repetitive thorn in his side and he didn’t even know who she was.
It was his turn to demand some answers. “What exactly were you asking her?”
Sonya stood staring at them from one to another. She appeared to be smiling at the exchange.
“First of all, please check your tone. Secondly, I was merely asking Sonya if she wanted to participate in the preschool play. Hardly an unforgivable offense.”
“She doesn’t. She’s not interested.”
Her eyes narrowed on him and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Shouldn’t she have any kind of say in the matter?”
“She’s barely six. Why would you even ask her to make such a decision?”
“Because I teach a class here and also volunteer to put together the annual summer play.” She extended her hand. “I’m Jess. Jessalyn Raffi.”
Jordan shook the hand she offered and introduced himself, reflexively and out of sheer common courtesy, despite his impatience.
The introductions seemed to somehow only further increase the awkwardness.
She cleared her throat before continuing. “Your daughter seemed interested in the flyer and—”
He cut her off. “Sister.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“She’s not my daughter. She’s my sister. And she won’t be acting in some play.”
“She’s your sister?” She sounded incredulous.
“Half sister to be totally accurate.” Jordan rammed a hand through his hair in frustration. Again, none of this was any of her business.
“I see,” Jess responded. “Why?”
Was she serious? “Why is she my sister?”
She gave a small shake of her head. “No. Why don’t you want her to be in the play? I think it would give her a chance to get to know other children. I know you’re new to Martha’s Vineyard.”
If she couldn’t guess why, he wasn’t going to explain it to her.
Between Sonya’s difficulties with her hearing and her reluctance to speak, being involved in a play could open her to all sorts of taunts from the other children.
Damned if he would put Sonya through such exposure and embarrassment.
Not after all that she’d already been through.
JORDAN WAS FEELING like a heel once more. And Sonya had made it clear she thought he’d acted like one during the entire ride back home from the community center. Perhaps he’d overreacted back there. Again. But something about the woman seemed to be making him act like a curmudgeon whenever he saw her. He couldn’t explain it.
It probably had something to do with the way she’d assumed his sister would want a hand-drawn immaculate castle on her bedroom wall. Or that she’d get some sort of social benefit from participating in a community center children’s play.
But it turned out she was a teacher. So she probably knew quite a bit about school-age children. More so than he did, certainly. Now he could only watch as Sonya was frantically relaying what had transpired at the center to Elise, using hand gestures and a writing pad. When she was done, they both turned to give him glaring looks of disapproval.
He threw his hands up