The Heart's Voice
Arlene James. The Heart's Voice
“How’d you lose your hearing?”
The Heart’s Voice. Arlene James
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He nearly dropped. “How…?” He stared into her wide, clear green eyes, sucked in a breath and accepted that the secret was out. “Explosion, about thirteen months ago.”
She shifted the baby on her hip. “About the same time CJ was born, then.”
She shivered, as if God Himself had tapped her on the shoulder, and before she could even think to do it, her foot had moved from the gas pedal to the brake. She sat there for a moment, the engine of her battered old car rumbling in competition with a cricket calling for his mate. Then with a sigh she yielded to her initial impulse and turned the vehicle into Dan Holden’s drive. She parked and got out, leaving the keys in the ignition as usual. Reluctantly she let her tired feet take her along the hedged walkway to the front steps and then up those steps to the broad, sheltered porch. From this angle, the light of the TV flickered against the windowpane, but now only that persistent cricket could be heard.
Becca knocked on the door. She thought its berry-red paint made a very pretty display with the pristine white of the siding, new grass-green roof and black shutters. She waited, but the contrary man couldn’t be bothered to answer his door.