Deadly Communications Read online

  Once again, Ella nodded.

  Maven gave a twisted smile. “See, this side smiles—this side does not.”

  Maven forged ahead. She hated revisiting the whole thing, but if Ella could understand that Maven understood difficulties with communicating, they might be able to connect. And if Maven was going to help this dear, sweet girl to talk and communicate with others, they needed to establish a bond.

  “Unfortunately, I’m still waiting for it to start working again. Of course, it’s not just about my smile. Eating can be difficult. I can’t really blink my eye so I use a lot of drops, and driving isn’t easy. My eyebrow and forehead aren’t moving either, but that isn’t causing any real problems.” She stopped, allowing Ella processing time, and then took a breath. “Of course, the big problem is my speech.”

  Ella nodded.

  “A speech pathologist whose lips don’t work the way they’re supposed to has a problem.” She smiled. “A big problem. So anyway, the school asked me to take a temporary medical leave. I could have argued the point, but really, I understood. On the other hand, I’ve been doing this long enough that I could have worked around the lip problem.”

  Ella nodded. She was a good listener. If she really understood what Maven was saying.

  Maven thought she did. “It really only affected a few sounds—like the F and the V and the…oh, well, that doesn’t matter. Anyway, I really just wanted you to know I’m having a few communication struggles, too.” Maven reached over and patted Ella’s hand. Ella jerked back slightly, but then she smiled. “And I think we’re going to be good for each other, Ella.”

  Ella smiled and then nodded.

  6

  Maven pulled into her garage, grabbed her bag of groceries, and stepped out of her car.

  A man walked inside. He gave a big smile and wave. “Howdy, neighbor. Garbage day’s tomorrow.”

  “I know, Paul. Really, you don’t have to do that. I can do it myself.”

  “I know you can, but your hands are full.” Pushing her garbage can out, he grabbed his own waiting one and kept moving towards the end of the drive. “But what can I say. I’m old and have antediluvian habits that are hard to break.”

  “Oh, antediluvian. That’s a new one on me. What’s it mean?”

  “Old-fashioned. Outdated. Antiquated. Before the Biblical flood of Noah’s time.”

  “Then I guess I’m antediluvian, as well.” She laughed as her neighbor continued down the drive with both their trash cans.

  “I would never say that about you. But I certainly am and I like it that way. Which is why I’m taking your garbage out.” He stopped at the end of the drive. After arranging the trash cans to his liking, he waved at Mimi, another neighbor.

  Mimi was the neighborhood watch on their street. She sat on her porch all day if the weather was good. Most of the time, she crocheted.

  Paul walked back to Maven. “How’d the first meeting go?”

  “It went fine, I suppose. I talked.” She shifted the bag of groceries to her hip. “She listened and nodded. But the good news is that the nods came at the appropriate time. So, it seems as if she’s understanding, even if the poor thing can’t express her thoughts right now.”

  “That has to be tough.”

  Maven nodded, and then held up the bag. “I bought two steaks. They were on sale. Want to share?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Reaching in the bag, Maven found the steaks. “Catch.” She tossed the cellophane-wrapped package at him, and he caught it with one hand. “OK, you grill while I go bake us a potato and make a salad. Or are you still low-carb and only want the salad?”

  “Nah, I want it all. Including the butter and the sour cream!”

  She laughed. “Don’t we all? Too bad we don’t always get what we want.”

  “What am I supposed to contribute? Your steak—your potato—your salad?”

  “You’re doing the grilling, remember? And since both of us are antediluvian, that works for me.”

  “Fine and I’ll bring the drinks.”

  “Come on over when they’re done. Medium rare—extra garlic salt!”

  

  Maven scooped up the chopped tomatoes from the counter and tossed them on the salad. Lots of tomatoes. Lots of cucumbers and cheese and some lettuce. The perfect salad. Crunchy and fresh.

  The scent of steak reached her nose just before she heard a soft knock at her door. “Come on in, Paul.”

  “Need a little help here.”

  She rushed over to the door.

  Paul balanced the platter of steaks in one hand and two cans of diet soda in the other. “I told you I was bringing the drinks.” He grinned as she opened the screen.

  “And what a fine vintage year that is. My favorite.”

  He walked past her and into the kitchen. Placing the platter on the kitchen island, he set the sodas next to it. One of cans toppled over and rolled off on the floor.

  “That’s yours.” Maven laughed.

  “Not a problem.” He grabbed it up and popped the top. Brown foam sizzled up but didn’t overflow.

  “You’re lucky!”

  “I’m not lucky. I’m blessed.”

  “Whatever.” She pointed at the bottles of ranch and Italian dressing sitting on the kitchen island. “Want something else?”

  “You know I don’t,” Paul said as he picked up the ranch and poured.

  After their plates were ready, they each took a stool at the kitchen island.

  “Mind if I pray?”

  “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because I know how mad you are at God right now.”

  Like her, Paul’s spouse had died. Unlike her, he didn’t blame God. This wasn’t the first time they’d had such a discussion.

  “I’m not mad. I just don’t think it does any good to pray. God’s going to do what God’s going to do. Simple as that.” She took a deep breath. “Say the prayer before the steaks get cold.”

  After praying, they both took a few bites.

  She savored the smoky taste. Her husband had grilled steaks to perfection time and again. Paul wasn’t quite there yet, but not bad.

  A piece of meat fell out of her mouth. “Oops. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I do it all the time.”

  “It’s different when you have no control over your mastication.” She pointed a finger at him. “Got ya.”

  “No way.” He looked at her and winked. “That one isn’t going to work. I know what it means. Chewing!”

  “I thought I’d give it a try.” She shrugged. “So, how’s work going for you, Paul?”

  “It can be murderous, sometimes.”

  Maven rolled her eyes. “Not funny.”

  “I thought it was.”

  Paul was a police detective. Wooster didn’t need specialized detectives, but all the detectives took their turns as the cases came in, never knowing what it would be until it happened.

  Of course, when a murder happened it was big news, and usually several of the detectives would be assigned. Paul always was since he had more experience with those types of cases. He’d worked in Cleveland before moving to Wooster. After the death of his wife, he’d left the big city for a more tranquil setting.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Lizzie poked her head in the door. “Hey, I stopped by to see how things went. Oops, I didn’t know you had a date.”

  “It’s not a date.” Paul and Maven said at the same time.

  “It’s fine, Lizzie. Come in.”

  “Well, I hate to interrupt.” As she walked in, Lizzie took an appreciative sniff. “Mmm. Something smells good.”

  “Paul cooked steaks for us.”

  Lizzie’s blue eyes were bright with curiosity as she checked out Maven’s neighbor.

  Maven could almost read her mind. “Paul is my new neighbor. Remember, I told you someone moved in a few months ago.”

  “Actually, it’s been almost six months. N
ot that it’s important,” Paul said.

  “Really? I can’t believe it’s been that long.”

  Lizzie hopped up on another kitchen stool. “And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me how cute the new neighbor is.”

  Maven laughed and looked at Paul.

  His face was ruddy with embarrassment.

  “Lizzie doesn’t believe in subtlety. Just ignore her. She really is harmless.”

  “If you say so.” He held out his hand to Lizzie. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, new neighbor. I’m Lizzie. Maven’s BFF, best friend forever.”

  “And how is it that I haven’t met you before, BFF?”

  “Well, I was out of town for a few months, but I’m back now. And I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. In case you need to get hold of me for some reason—any reason.”

  “Like I said she is not subtle. Lizzie, behave yourself.”

  “Oh, OK. I was just having some fun.” She gave Paul a genuine smile and then turned to Maven. “So, how did therapy go today? It felt good to work again, right?”

  “Yes, it did. I admit it.” Looking at Paul, Maven said, “Lizzie was a social worker at the same school I worked at until she retired. She works part-time now for the county.”

  “I retired at a very young age.”

  Maven and Paul both laughed.

  “What? What did I say? I just wanted him to know I wasn’t old. That’s all.”

  “He can see that for himself, Lizzie. As usual, you look beautiful.”

  Lizzie fluffed her hair. “I don’t know what was so funny.”

  “Just a little too obvious.”

  Paul looked at Maven. “Hey, I saw a smile.”

  “No you didn’t. You just thought you did because I laughed.”

  “Not true. Let me see it again.”

  Maven did as directed, knowing it looked more like a painful grimace than a smile. She rarely smiled anymore and certainly not at children. She didn’t want to traumatize them.

  “Definitely better, don’t you think?” He looked at Lizzie for confirmation.

  “I think you’re right, Paul.” Lizzie’s voice was sincere. “Really, Maven. It looks like a real smile again.”

  “It is not true. You’re both just being sweet. I can look in the mirror and see that it hasn’t changed one little bit. Not to mention my speech. I can hear it. It sounds horrible.”

  “It doesn’t sound horrible. Other people probably don’t even notice it. You’re too sensitive.” Lizzie eyed her steak. “Can I have a bite?”

  Maven nodded as Lizzie speared a piece with her fork.

  “And besides, it’ll get better. I just know it,” Paul said as he picked up his plate and salad bowl, placing it in the sink.

  “The doctor said if it didn’t start improving within six months, it wouldn’t improve. It’s been nine months.” She shrugged. “It is what it is, and I’ll just have to deal with it.”

  “But the doctor doesn’t know our God.” Lizzie pointed her fork at Maven.

  “I wish I had that kind of faith, but I don’t. Not anymore.”

  “You only need faith the size of a mustard seed,” Paul said. “And besides I have enough faith for both of us. God is still with you, Maven. Even if you can’t feel it right now.”

  “Amen to that.” Lizzie chimed in.

  Paul looked over at Lizzie with a sparkle in his eyes. “Are you a believer?”

  “Of course. In fact, I’m singing a special at church this Sunday. Maybe you’d like to come.” She turned towards Maven. “And you, too. It’s been months since you came.”

  “Sorry, I can’t,” Paul said. “It’s my Sunday to work.”

  Lizzie shrugged. “What about you, Maven? Want to come?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I know it’s been rough for you, but look how good God is. He’s given you a new job—a job that practically appeared out of nowhere. I’d call that a miracle, wouldn’t you?” Lizzie said.

  A miracle. There was that word again.

  She didn’t believe in those anymore.

  7

  Maven and Ella sat opposite each other at the tiny bistro table in her room, with a series of five photo-quality pictures between them. Because of brain-damage, it was hard to know how well Ella processed line drawings, so photos were better.

  Maven touched each picture as she spoke the word. “Car. Store. Doctor. Church. Restaurant. The car was to represent the fact Ella might want to go somewhere. The other four pictures were her choices of where.

  She repeated the process three times and then looked at Ella. “Your turn. OK, we’re going to do it together.”

  Ella nodded.

  “Car.”

  “Car.”

  They went through each word several times. “OK, now your turn.” She pointed at the car and waited.

  Nothing.

  “Give it a try, Ella.”

  Nothing.

  “I’ll give you a clue. Ka-Ka-Ka.”

  “Ka-Ka-Ka.” Ella’s pale blue eyes dulled as nothing else came from her mouth.

  Maven smiled. “Car.”

  “Car.”

  They went through this several more times with the same results. Patience was one of Maven’s best virtues after years of repetitious speech therapy with children.

  Not so with Ella. In one swift movement, Ella jumped up from the chair. The chair clattered to the floor. She grabbed the picture of the car and tore it in half and then did the same with the others. She moved over to her bed. Grabbing her covers, she pulled them off. Pillows flew through the air. Then she kicked the bed posts. Frustration and anger spewed out of the young woman.

  Maven thought of stopping her.

  But if Ella wanted to have an emotional meltdown, she was allowed. With the communication difficulties, she deserved to have a temper tantrum. Being isolated and sitting in this house day after day wasn’t good for her. She needed to see people. Ella needed to have a purpose in life.

  As soon as the thought came to Maven, she realized the truth in it—for herself, as well as for Ella. No wonder Maven had been feeling so sorry for herself. She’d been so self-absorbed with her own problems that she hadn’t even thought of helping anyone else.

  No wonder she couldn’t hear God anymore. She’d been too busy listening to her own whining and complaining.

  Thanks to Lizzie that seemed to be changing. She needed to do something nice for her friend.

  Finally, Ella sank to the floor. Her blonde hair flopped in front of her face. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed.

  Maven sat down on the floor and put her arms around the girl. The two of them sat together until the storm passed.

  Ella moved away and stood up. Looking around at the mess, she shook her head.

  “Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Maven smiled. “Feel better?”

  Ella nodded.

  “Then it was worth it.” Maven shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. But it is your mess to clean up. So, I will leave it to you. “

  Ella nodded.

  Maven hefted herself up from the sitting position. “I’m not going to tell your mother about it unless you want me to.”

  Ella shook her head.

  “Are you sure? Maybe…”

  Another shake.

  “Maybe she can be helpful to you. But if you say no, then all right.” Those with communication problems felt they had no power in their lives. Her deaf students often became very passive because of that. Maven was a firm believer in giving them back their power. “Okie dokie, then. I’ve been thinking about a field trip. What do you think?”

  Ella’s blue eyes lit up, and she nodded.

  “So a field trip, it is.”

  A smile and a nod.

  

  Maven peeked in the kitchen. From the aroma, she figured Sandra was in there baking again. It was a wonder the woman didn’t weight three hundred pounds from all the goodies she baked. “Sandra, I’m leaving.”
<
br />   “I thought you already had. Come on in for a minute. Just putting the final touches on this chocolate cake.”

  “Smells great.”

  “You allergic to nuts?”

  “No.”

  Sandra picked up slivered almonds and began to arrange them in a circular pattern on the cake. “How’d the session go?”

  “She seemed a bit anxious.” An understatement. She said nothing else. Ella had a right to privacy.

  “Not just today, I’m afraid. She’s been that way all week. The anniversary of her accident’s coming up. I thought that might be why. Not that she’s mentioned it to me, of course.”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  Sandra looked up from the cake, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I really don’t know. We used to be so close. We talked at least three times a week on the phone after she went to school. I miss her.”

  Maven felt the woman’s pain. “I’m sure it’s just as hard on her as it is for you. It’s not easy when people can’t communicate. It can be very frustrating for them.”

  After placing a final sliver of almond in the center of the chocolate masterpiece, Sandra looked up. “What do you think of the cake?”

  “Looks wonderful.”

  “I love to cook and bake.”

  “And apparently you do it well. Because the smells that come from this kitchen are heavenly.”

  “Thanks.” Sandra walked to a cupboard and came back with a cake holder. “I do bake a lot, but I give most of it to neighbors and friends.”

  Hearing that made Maven feel even more selfish. She resolved to find ways to be nicer to other people. “It’s been three weeks, and we haven’t made any real progress.”

  “That’s not true.” Sandra’s voice was firm as she lifted the cake and put it inside the cake holder. “She’s answering yes and no to questions now. Mostly with nods and shakes, but sometimes with her voice. That is a definite improvement. Before that, she would just stare at us.”

  “That’s not much for three weeks. If you want to fire me, I wouldn’t blame you.”

  Sandra’s eyes widened. “Fire you? Are you kidding? I think you’re doing a wonderful job.” She placed the lid on the cake holder, and then picked up an envelope. Sandra handed it to Maven. “My husband left this for you. And I made this for you. To show our gratitude.” She pushed the cake towards Maven. “I thought I’d have to wait until tomorrow to give it to you.”