Dear Dad

October 10th

October 10th,

            Anabella and I talked to the best of our ability.  But, we had become so close in the past month that I wanted to be able to talk to her more, without her just nodding her head yes or no.  So, I decided to ask my mom.

            It was dinner time and we had sat down to two plates of spaghetti perfectly set across from each other at the little round kitchen table.  The conversation started the same as normal, “So, how was school today?”  My mother asked twirling her fork around in the noodles.  “Good,” I replied, “Anabella showed me this really good poem she wrote yesterday about high school.”  I said trying to start a conversation about Anabella.  “Who’s Anabella?”  My mom asked nosily. My plan had worked.  “She’s my only friend.  She’s really nice and smart.”  My mother looked up at me with a smile.  She knew me better than she knew the number for the nearest pizza place.  Using her know all mother sensor, she automatically knew that I liked her.  “Mom, it’s not like that she’s just a friend!”  She smirked at me and went back to her pasta twirling.  “So, you want to know something interesting about Anabella?” She swallowed a forkful of spaghetti and said with interest, “Go on.” 

“She’s mute.  She can’t talk, like at all.”  My mom put down her fork and wiped her face.

“Really,” she said with shock.

“Yes, the only way we’re able to talk is through an endless game of charades.  She knows sign language, and I was wondering if I could learn sign language so that was I’m able to talk with her.”

Her phone started beeping and she whipped it out quickly.  She looked down at the screen and in an instant got up and threw her plate in the sink.

“I have to go into work, the hospital needs me.  But, if you really want to then sure, go ahead.”

My mom works as an ER doctor and often gets called into work late at night and for long hours.  She was almost never home.