I almost push Josh out of the car when we finally pull into the driveway, needing the fresh air in my lungs more than I need Dad’s questions, more than I need Josh’s support. Without a word, Dad goes into the house while Josh and I stand in the driveway.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his eyes holding a tinge of gold against the morning sun.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It is what it is,” I sign.

Josh sighs. “I’m sorry,” he almost hesitates to say. “Your hands were going too fast… I couldn’t…”

“Don’t worry,” I sign.

“No.” He steps forward and tugs on my top. “Just try again. Just go slower this time.”

Shaking my head, I reach in my pocket for my phone, and have Cordy do my talking, “I said, let’s talk about it later. I’ve got a long day ahead and I need to go to the store to get things for lunch. We can meet at Say Something at eleven. Okay?”

“I can go to the store with you,” he says quickly. “We can pick up Mom and Tommy on the way to the center.”

I press my lips tight and wrap my arms around his neck, rising to my toes so I can kiss him. “I’m good,” I mouth.

He grasps my hips and gently creates space between us. “I just feel like we need to talk about this.”

Seriously. What’s there to talk about? He might be disappointed that he’s in love with a girl who can never speak again, but I’d already made terms with my fate long before this stupid operation even came up.

It is what it is.

I am who I am.

And, “I’m good,” I mouth again, peeling his hands off me. I sign, “I’ll see you at eleven. You know where it is?”

He nods.

I kiss him again. “Olive juice,” I mouth.

He sighs. “So damn much, Becs.”

*     *     *

Josh: Are you here? We just parked.

I leave dad inside, manning the popcorn machine, and meet Josh and his mother in the parking lot. No sign of Tommy. Ella greets me with a hug. “You look adorable,” she says, and I force a smile because I can’t see Tommy. Can’t hear him. And if he’s not here, I don’t know that I could handle it emotionally. My heart’s thumping in my chest, my eyes searching their car—a different car than the one Josh left my house in. I look over at Josh, whose goofy grin makes me smile for real. He points to the back door. “He wanted you to get him out of the car.”

I practically rip it open and the moment I do, my heart fills with a joy only Tommy’s giggle can create. “Did you think I wasn’t here?” he shouts.

I nod, hold a hand to my chest and roll my eyes at him.

He laughs harder. “I tricked you.”

After unbuckling him from his car seat, I help him down from the giant SUV. He stands in front of me, trucker cap on backward, Globe shirt, skinny jeans, Globe shoes, and… pierced ear? I gasp, silent, and reach out and fiddle with it.

Tommy giggles. “Gnarly, right? Nico and I got it done together in Dallas. Daddy wouldn’t let me get a tattoo, though.”

I look over at Josh, my eyes wide.

He just shakes his head. “Don’t get me started.”

“Hey Becs!” Tommy says, and I give all the attention in all the world back to him. He lifts his hands, his little fingers moving in front him. He signs, “M Y B E C C A”

My jaw drops, along with my stomach and I cover my mouth and I cry. Then I laugh. And I cry and laugh some more. And yeah, I look crazy, but it feels like everything is hitting me at once.

Josh consoles me.

So does his mother.

And Tommy looks on as if he’s done something wrong, which he hasn’t. So I take him in my arms and lift him in the air and I hold him. I hold him and I hold him and I hold him and I’m never, ever letting him go.

I’d spent the morning in a daze, not wanting to come to terms with a loss. Because as much as I didn’t want to admit it to anyone, especially to myself, Lexy’s news felt just like that—a loss. But all it takes to redefine that word and all the feelings that come with it is a single boy’s laughter, and a sign.

His signing meant everything.

Changes everything.

I carry Tommy, who’s already half my size, on my hip and wrap my free arm around Josh’s waist. Then I lead them all toward Say Something—a safe place.

Only it’s not my safe place.

My safe place isn’t a place.

It’s bright brown eyes and shaggy dark hair atop identical smiles. It’s the sound of laughter, of the spinning of four wheels on concrete. It’s touches of ease, of comfort.