Jamie Jimenez. “Love Sign.” Continuation

Specifically, I was looking for her, my dear Mother Mary, but she wasn’t here either. I sat down in one of the middle pews and prayed to her myself. I closed my eyes and began by giving thanks for my wonderful life, my job, and my health. I just imagined her in her green robe saying,

“Nice of you to come back in 5 years.”

“Yes, Mother, I know it has been too long since we last spoke.”

I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and held my hands together. I didn’t know what to say, so lets’ start off with a sigh. I started by asking for forgiveness and guidance for my biggest issue: my earthly mother. Mother Mary, this woman tests my patience every day and makes me want to pull my hair out and scream like crazy. I know the Commandments, “honor your mother and father,” but what about honoring your kids? On my second birthday, I recall her yelling at me because I hit the piñata first and not my guests. On my 10th birthday, she was embarrassed that I stained my dress, which shows in every picture. At 18, talking to a guy five years older than me killed her, and it just snowballed into what it is now. Like a punished child, I kept my head down.

“Please look after my dad’s soul. Please look after him, that’s he’s safe, that he’s safe in a safe place, with God and all the angels and my ancestors. Great Grandma Teresa, Tia Karen, and Papa Ernesto. I guess I send prayers for my mother, my siblings, and to please help me to find the one thing I ever truly wanted: Love, a love that with a kiss fills my heart with the fireworks and my ears with wedding bells. Please let my love story be with Joey. Yes, he’s older, wiser, and the best man on earth. Amen.” I ended my prayer with a quick sign of the cross and ran as I heard Joey trying to communicate with the pastor.

“Pastor, what seems to be the issue?”

“The church is closed!”

I signed to Joey what was going on.

He signed back, “I still have 15mins! What’s this guy’s problem?”

I signed him to calm down and that I would handle it.

“Pastor, you are stopping a man from prayer on a Sunday. God never once stopped anyone from coming to God’s house. Not the sick, the elderly, not even the prostitutes.”

“And who are you, young lady, I don´t recognize you. Are you a member of this church?

“Well, I am religious too, and I am Christian too, but a Catholic Christian, but…”

“Mmmm. Joey, please pray for her and leave in five minutes.”

As soon as the Pastor left, I offer Joey the apology that was boiling inside me since last night. It probably wasn’t the right time, but this was the house of forgiveness after all. I took out my phone and began to type:

“Joey I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry about last night and how it turned out! Just know that I love you and my family just needs time to warm up to us. I’m sorry if I-or they- upset you.”

I handed him the phone, looking confused yet repentant. He typed back:

“Jimmie, I love you, and I love us so much. I’m sorry I stormed off, I was just frustrated. And I came to church to ask God for help and guidance. I want us to work.”

I typed back that I really wanted this to work too. We shared a light kiss before Jesus Christ whose body was illuminated by the sun that entered through the stained glass windows.

“Hey! No affection inside my church!” Yelled Pastor James from the doorway. “Now both of you, out!”

“What he says?” Joey asked.

“He said he hopes to see us back at the church soon.”

“Good. Pizza?”

“That sounds good!”

****

I followed Joey’s 1964 impala to a cute garden bar just outside of town that had million-dollar homes, four Starbucks less than a mile apart, restaurants, jewelry stores, and definitely no “mom and pop shops.” The bar was decorated in tulips, twinkle lights, and heating lamps. It was crowded, all betting on the basketball games and clinking their beer glasses.

We took a seat at a table far from the bar and opened the menus. Without fully lifting my eyes from the menu, I saw someone approaching our table. She was young like me, but no more than 27. She was 5’2, curvy like green hills, with a size 36DD watermelons-chest, and thick curly-fries hair. She walked up behind Joey and tapped his shoulder very gently and slowly, but almost seductively.  

“Hi, Joey!!”

He rushed up from his chair and gave her a big hug. It must’ve been someone who he’s known forever. Her hands were wrapped high around his neck and he’s lucky I couldn’t fully see where he placed his hands on her.

“Who’s that?” But I really meant to say who the fuck is that?!

“Jimmie, this is Olive, she’s my friend from church and the Pastor’s niece.”

She began signing, too fast for my knowledge, but I picked up a few things. It was crazy how they signed so fast together, way faster than he and I. Joey looked so comfortable and understood everything. With me, it was always him trying to figure out what I was signing. He didn’t give her the confused face or the squinting eyes.

Our eyes met each other, and she looked at me up and down and I did the same.

“Joey, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone!”

“Yes, Jimmie’s my girlfriend.”

Her smile crooked as she repeated “girlfriend.” She extended her hand, blinked too much and her smile got even more crooked.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I said.

Her eyes widened and pointed to her ear.

“Joey, is she not deaf?”

“No she’s…”

“No. I’m hearing.” I signed. And whispered, “Olive Bitch”.

She began to sign faster than the speed of light, her hands smacked and clapped loudly which made others turn around. I couldn’t keep up, but based on her expression and movements, she was either angry or hurt.

“Joey, what is she saying?” I asked him.

“Nothing, nothing, she’s happy I found someone.”

But why didn’t he sign that just now?

Olive was sitting at the table nearest to the bar with some of her friends and invited us to stop by after we were done eating.

When she left there was something that stole my appetite: Joey didn’t talk much after seeing her.

“So, how’d you meet Olive?”

“She’s from church! She sits in the front pew too and we teach each other new signs.”  

         After we ate, Joey wanted to stop by Olive’s table to say hello to his friends. But I wondered if they would accept me as being the only hearing person at the table. Would they look down upon me?

I waved hello and held on tight to Joey’s hand making sure not to have it slip away. It was fascinating watching everyone sign and laugh as they continued their conversation about how a hearing man got scared and walked away because they thought one of them and his friend were fighting when they were just talking and signing. I didn’t know how to contribute to their conversation. So, I just signed “yes” to everything I could understand. I was so embarrassed, but this must be what Joey sees and feels every day. I felt comfortable but also hoped no one would talk to me. Though I knew some signs, that still didn’t mean they would accept me.

Joey went to the bar to get us some drinks but was taking too long. I looked around and noticed Olive was at the bar too. Turning her head back to me every once in and while to see if I would catch on. But I knew her game.

“You look a little distracted there, girl, what’s on your mind?”

            “Excuse me?”

            A 6’2- man with a beard and a face chiseled by the gods themselves was in front of me. He wore a red baseball cap, a white long sleeve, and blue jeans. He must’ve not been any older than 30.

“You look fixed on that girl and guy over there.”

“Yeah, because he’s my boyfriend.”

He looked at me confused and hesitant as if trying to solve a complicated math problem.

“Really? Wow. The dude’s like 40 and deaf, and your young and hearing.”

I leaned over the table to bring myself closer to this man and moved my hair behind my ears.

“I don’t see the issue. What are you insinuating?”

“Well, I am just saying that…”

“Everyone needed to stop stating the obvious! We both know we’re of different ages and have different hearing capabilities. If two people love each other they make it work.”

“If you say so…”

Joey and I never talked about the challenges and difficulties we would face being a deaf and hearing couple. I didn’t even see if there were any concerns at least on my part. I loved him and I wanted to learn sign language for him. Some days communicating is difficult and frustrating, but it keeps things interesting. All these little things: him not hearing me, him not understanding me, him startling me because he’s so loud, keep the relationship interesting and fun.

“Man, I couldn’t even imagine being with someone who can’t hear me and whose language I didn’t fully understand.”

“What makes you think I don’t understand?”

“I mean, you’re not talking to anyone besides me, the other only hearing person here.”

Was it obvious that I hoped no one talked to me? I only felt comfortable signing with Joey, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to learn and practice, I’m just very shy.

“I’m just a shy girl. I don’t know anyone here.”

“If you say so…”

The conversation had grown awkward and silent after that. I didn’t get what he was trying to achieve by asking me these private questions. Obviously, no relationship was perfect but Joey and I were, and if we had problems, we’ll handle them how we think is appropriate.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, and I hope you guys are very happy.”

“Thank you. We are and will be.” I hope he felt my eyes and anger pierce through the back of his head.

But the truth was that Joey and his environment and culture did make me feel like a fish out of water. Was I an inconvenience to his life? Would there really come a point where Joey and I would get tired of being with a partner who’s hearing? Or maybe I would get tired of being with someone who can’t hear me? When Joey’s 50, I’m going to be 35. No! I had to shake off these thoughts. I turned my attention back to Joey and Olive.

Wow, they looked so comfortable. I imagined that that’s what I would look like if I was deaf. That’s what I would look like with Joey: as if we fit, as if we belong. The communication just flows and is easy. Life would be simpler. But after all, this was MY man and MY relationship.

I walked over to Joey at the bar and stepped in between him and Olive. I grabbed his face, passionately kissed his lips as in the Mexican telenovelas, and rubbed my hands all over his back and neck. There was that feeling of being taken somewhere else in the dark, of being transported to another dimension. I no longer heard the room, no longer heard laughter, hands smacking, and mouthing mouths. Olive’s face was defeated, heartbroken, and astonished. She stepped aside and walked back to her table.

I told you I knew how to play your game.

“Let’s get out of here, baby.”