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Call your momma once a week.

The thought entered his mind, in the voice he imagined his daddy to have. That had been Daddy’s parting advice to Mitch when he’d finally loaded up Honor to make the drive back to Texas. Call your momma once a week.

Mitch had called her once, so he wasn’t exactly behind yet—if he called today or tomorrow.

Are you coming home for the Angel Tree? Link asked next. I know it’s not for another couple of months, but I think it’ll probably be the next time I see you in person.

Yeah, Mitch said. I’ve got airplane tickets already.

You’re going to fly? Link’s eyebrows went up. That’ll be a new experience for you.

Mitch grinned. Yeah, one I’m kind of excited about.

Why?

Because it’s what normal people do.

Once again, he found himself having said something he hadn’t anticipated saying. And his hands weren’t done yet. I just want to feel normal, Link. And here, I feel so much more normal than I do at Shiloh Ridge.

But at the same time, I’m so homesick I just walk around the grocery store, comparing it to Wilde & Organic. He drew in a big breath and blew it out. Nothing makes sense.

Everything is still new, Link said. And we both know I’m way better at adjusting to new things than you. He maintained a perfectly straight face as he said it, and Mitch wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

His hands flew into motion again, protesting against his inability to change, and Link fully laughed now, his boxy shoulders vibrating as he did. Mitch stopped talking, his own smile gracing his face.

Is Misty gonna come to the Angel Tree? Mitch asked when they’d both stopped chuckling.

Link’s smile slipped away to nothing, and he looked away from his almost-empty plate. I don’t know.

You wanted to ask her last year, Mitch said. Surely you will this year.

I’m going to talk to her about it, Link said. Oh, she’s here. Want to say hello?

Misty could speak a little sign language, and she crammed into the same frame as Link to ask him how Virginia was. Mitch liked seeing the two of them together, and he sure did notice the softness that came over Link when he looked at her.

He chitchatted with Misty for a minute, and then she turned to go into Link’s kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. I miss you, brother, he signed. I’ll call again soon.

Yeah, Mitch said. I miss you too, Link.

The video went black very soon after that, and Mitch got to his feet and pulled on a shirt. At his feet, Beacon got up and trotted toward the bedroom door. Then the dog came back to him and sat.

Mitch made the training sign that said, Show me, and Beacon led the way out of the bedroom and down the hall. Mitch had two bedrooms and a single bath in this house, with a big, open area for a living room and dining room. The kitchen sat at the back of the house, along one wall, and Daddy had bought a portable island to give some delineation between the kitchen and the living room.

Beacon went past the black leather couches and to the door. He put his front paws up on it, then turned back to Mitch and sat. Mitch patted the dog and continued to the door to open it. Sure enough, a woman stood there in a dark blue uniform.

I need you to sign for this, she said, and Mitch imagined her voice to be pitched up a little, with a slightly Southern twang. Her dark hair had been braided half back, with the rest spilling over her slight shoulders.

Mitch smiled at her and reached for the electronic pen. He signed his name on the tablet and took the envelope she extended toward him. She smiled too, and in that brief moment when the package transferred hands, a spark jumped between them.

In a normal situation, Mitch would’ve asked for her number. At the very least, he’d have said something flirty and fun. He’d seen other men do it plenty of times. He normally wasn’t too self-conscious of his inability to communicate with hearing people, but something inside him had flipped.

He simply ducked his head in thanks, backed up a step, and closed the door between them, all while the dark-eyed beauty made eyes at him that said she’d have given him her phone number.

It’s that kind of thing that Link doesn’t understand, he told himself as he peeled back the tab to open the envelope. Asking a pretty woman for her number should be easy, and Mitch couldn’t even do that. Not without a big explanation about how he was deaf, and then too many texts back and forth to get the information he wanted.

He’d put himself on a female fast besides. He made his own breakfast and just as he’d sat down to eat, his phone lit up with a text.

Link: I think you’re an amazing man, Mitch. I don’t want to lecture you at all. It’s the last thing I want. Your momma said something at church last week that has been in my mind a lot this week.