Someone Else's Ocean
Kate Stewart
For my dear friend Donna Cooksley Sanderson. Thank you for setting your coffee down to become responsible for me.
For my ASL teacher Billy, thank you for showing me the beauty of a soundless language.
And for the people of St. Thomas.
Note to reader
For the purpose of being mindful about the nature of American Sign Language and the perception of the deaf culture, I’m writing my personal experience with personalities of those I’ve known, while incorporating my own knowledge of the language. While I do have a formal education in ASL, in the way of interpreter training, I do not claim to be an expert on the language nor the culture. Please keep in mind that the ASL communication in this book is between two individuals with years of experience interacting with the other, therefore leaving a broad avenue for interpretation.
Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it.
Kate
“IAN.”
I turned to face my ex-wife as she moved toward me at warp speed. “Where is she?”
“In X-ray. She’s got stitches from a large gash in her arm and suffered a nasty break in her right leg.”
Her shoulders slumped as she exhaled a stressed breath. “Are the other girls okay?”
I slipped my hands in my slacks. “Just bumps and scratches. Ella got the worst of it.”
Tara looked at me accusingly. “You couldn’t go with her to X-ray?”
“She didn’t want me to. She’s still in the midst of claiming her independence.”
She pursed her lips. “You’re the parent.”
“Right, so you keep reminding me. Yet I was here first.”
“I was working,” she hissed, a ready defense on her tongue.
I raised a brow. “So that’s what you call it these days?” Tara was an assistant to her new boyfriend, or rather, an old boyfriend that she’d taken up with after our divorce. He was a commercial builder based in Houston.
“I’m sure the boss will have no issue giving you time off considering your duties last long past the five o’clock whistle.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her sundress lifting enough to see the six-hundred-dollar cowgirl boots I bought for our last anniversary. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were jealous.”
“But you know better,” I said, sounding as bitter as I felt about the situation which had nothing to do with who she was with. It had everything to do with our custody agreement and the fact that I was expecting her to dispute it any day to suit her new ‘professional’ situation. And if the law saw fit, that meant my daughter would leave Dallas because of a man her mother was crazy about.
She gave me a wary glance. “Can we not do this now?”
“Fine. That was petty. I apologize. Ella lost some blood, and they had to give her a transfusion.”
Tara’s face went pale.
“She’s fine,” I assured her. “Thankfully she had been keeping up with her meds, so that helped. I didn’t know her blood type. I felt horrible. How could I not know that? She’s anemic for God’s sake.”
“We only just discovered it when she got her period a few months ago. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Tara swallowed and stared at me with wide eyes. “By the way it’s—”
“Type B, I know now of course.” I moved to sit next to her as she studied me carefully. She was looking for anger. I knew it from years of being with her. What would I be angry about? She flinched as I took the cracked blue plastic seat next to her. The hospital’s bones were dinosaur, but the healthcare was top-notch. It was the only reason I wasn’t crawling out of my skin with worry.
“So, they did a blood test?” she asked quietly, her eyes cast down.
“Actually, I asked for a few tests just in case something like this arose again. The doctor said it’s a good precaution with her condition.”
Tara began shaking next to me, her fearful eyes meeting mine briefly before they flit away.
“What is it, Tara?”
“Ian, I—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kemp?” The doctor interrupted and we both stood. “She’s going to be fine. We’ve ruled out surgery, managed to set her leg and have given her something mild for the pain.”
I blew out a long breath of relief. “Thank you.”
Tara spoke up. “We were supposed to leave for vacation tomorrow. We’re driving to my parents’ house in Houston. Will she be able to travel?”
“She’s going to have some discomfort no matter what, but it’s a short trip and as long as you’re equipped to care for her there, it should be fine.”
“She can stay with me—”
“That’s ridiculous,” Tara scoffed. “The whole point is for us to spend time together.”
“I thought the whole point was to spend time with Daniel?” I challenged.
Tara glanced away briefly in an attempt to hide her agitation before producing a fake smile for the doctor. “We’ll be fine. Can we see her?”
I was being a dick, but I rather enjoyed it at her expense. Tara had a way of getting under my skin by her presence alone.