“When I was twelve, I broke my leg in two places. She does not realize this is patronizing, and I don’t tell her, because she is trying. No, I have never heard anything-not a laugh, not a voice, not a puppy barking or a plane overhead. Her first question is about my hearing, or lack of it. Her internal battle is like a three-act play unfolding before my eyes, and I know how it ends. She doesn’t want to turn me down the way so many others have. Petra does not want to be the shallow woman who refuses a man because he is deaf. She wants to go find a man who can hear her laugh and does not have to type out his words.Īt the same time, her conscience tells her not to discriminate. I am no longer the picture in her head, no longer the man she imagined, but now she isn’t sure what to do.Ī pleasure to meet you, Petra. Embarrassment looks the same on everyone. Her eyebrows shoot up, she covers her mouth with one hand, and the pink rises on her skin. She reads it and crinkles her brow, looking back and forth between the phone and me. I slide my phone across the bar toward her. That’s why she looked at me, why she smiled, why she is happy I have come over to join her. I am thirty-nine, in excellent shape with a full head of hair and a deep set of dimples, and my suit fits better than any glove. Physically, I appeal to her the same way I would appeal to most women in this bar. Her lips move, she says hello, and her eyes are brighter.
It is unremarkable in both color and length. I walk over and take the seat next to her. Most of her lipstick is gone, now a reddish smear on the rim of her glass. I glance over and smile to show her I am. I look at my own drink and can feel her watching, wondering if I’m as interested as she is. Her blue eyes are glassy, they flicker down to her drink and back up.
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