Chapter Three

Indya

The week flew by. I can't believe it is already Thursday. Haven is learning that when we flash the light on and off, we are trying to get her attention. So, we spent the best part of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday practicing this skill when I got home from work. I would wait until she was deeply immersed in the pages she was coloring or the book she was looking at before I would flip the switch, making the light flicker, trying to get her attention. At first, she would just look around but would never acknowledge me. By Monday night, Amara was joining in. She liked to wait until Haven was brushing her teeth or in the bathtub to try and get her attention. By Wednesday evening, Haven was finally responding like we wanted her to. She didn't search us out every time, but she was getting better and better, which was all we could ask for.

It's Thursday evening, and Amara and Trevor walk in, just getting off from work. Trevor ignores Haven and me, sitting at the table, practicing her signs and signing entire sentences.

Why is Aunt Mar's friend mad? I correct her signs, helping her find the correct way to say the sentence completely.

I reply, Some people are just unhappy people, and they like to make those around them unhappy as well. But you are the brightest light in the room every time, so his darkness can't reach us.

Hoping that she understands that he is just a piece of shit person, without telling her in those words. She must understand, because she smiles, nods, and goes to practice the sentence ‘Why does Aunt Mar's friend always seem mad', which makes me smile at her determined little face. I think we need to work on her expressions to go with words and sentences soon.

"Hey, how was your day? Did you get a lot accomplished? How is she doing with the light flickering?" Amara does this every evening when she walks in the door from work. She walks in, says and signs hello, goes to her room to change out of her business clothes into comfy clothes, usually sweats and a t-shirt, then makes her way to us, asking so many questions without giving either of us time to answer.

I laugh, looking at Haven's face as she patiently waits for all her Aunt Mar's questions to end. When Amara pauses for a brief moment, Haven still doesn't respond, knowing there will be a few more questions to follow, as if she knew Amara needed to take a breath to finish her line of questioning. She was right.

"Did you decide what we are having for dinner? Oh, Indya, I have a request and a possible job opportunity; don't let me forget to ask you, okay? Haven, were you the brightest angel today for your mom? Did you learn anything new that you want to teach me? What are you feeling like for dinner tonight?"

I let Haven take the lead on answering all the questions, letting her know beforehand to try and respond to them in full sentences instead of just random signs. She nods and smiles, knowing she has been practicing and is getting better.

Hello, Aunt Mar, we had a good day. We got some things done. I am better with

light flickering. We wait for you and Trevor for dinner idea. He is picky, so we wait. I always angel for mama. I learned more sentences. Tacos.

I am glowing at how proud I am of my daughter. I have to remember she is only four and still has time to learn. Still, she has me in awe of the way she responds to each of Amara's questions. I turn to look at Amara, and she, too, is beaming. We have come a long way together in raising Haven; she is just as proud of her as I am.

"She pretty much covered everything, Amara. Did you understand all her signs?" I ask Amara.

"I did, surprisingly," she laughs. "I think tacos sound amazing for dinner tonight; what do you think, Trevor?"

We all turn to look at him, looking bored and put out, as if this is his home and we are overstaying our welcome. I hope he doesn't think I missed that disgusted look on his face while Amara had all her attention on Haven while they were talking. If I didn't love Amara so much, I would put Trevor on his ass, preferably in the middle of the ocean. We all waited for him to respond as if the question that was asked needed to be contemplated over a certain period of time to make sure the answer was correct. It's yes or no, dickhead. It's tacos. Do you want them or not? I want to scream the questions in his face, but I sit there and wait, like the great friend I am, for him to make this life-changing decision about having tacos for dinner.

"I'm not in the mood for tacos tonight. I was hoping you and I could go out to that new sushi restaurant we have been wanting to try," he says matter-of-factly.

"Haven doesn't like sushi, Trevor. How many times do I have to remind you of this? They waited for us to have dinner, so the polite thing to do is to have dinner with them. You did not mention going out for dinner all day or on the way home; sometimes, I don't understand what goes through your head," Amara shakes her head in disappointment. She turns her head, meeting my eyes, then turns all her attention to Haven, Tacos sound amazing!

Trevor pouts and doesn't say much about anything during dinner. After he finishes eating, as usual, he doesn't offer to help clean up; he heads straight to the bathroom to use all the hot water, then goes to Amara's room, where he usually stays unless we are eating, or they are going to work.

After the kitchen is cleaned and Haven is safely tucked in her bed, Amara pours two glasses of wine and meets me in the living room. I didn't know what to think of her comment on the job opportunity. I know she is just trying to help, but sometimes I feel as though I don't contribute enough to our house or that we aren't equals when it comes to expenses. I get a monthly check from the social security office for Haven, and I am getting income from the school right now, but not enough to contribute as much as I want. She always tells me that I am doing more than enough, and I need to think about how I am supporting not only myself, but a child, and she only has to take care of herself. The thought still goes through my mind every time she has a potential job opportunity.

Amara hands me a glass of wine and sits down beside me. "So, my boss came to me today, asking about your rates and availability. He knows that you are a sign language interpreter and offer freelancing. He and some of the other colleagues are going to a charity gala this weekend, and one of them has a wife who is deaf and is having a hard time finding an interpreter to go with them. He wants to be able to have a good time with his wife and also talk business with those he needs to speak to.

"He said that they are willing to pay double what you charge and give you an added bonus for it being short notice. The wife said that she would purchase your gown, shoes, and jewelry and even pay for you to get your hair, nails, toes, and make-up done professionally. So, what do you think?"

My eyes widen, and I'm sure my mouth is hanging open; this is exactly the type of opportunity I have been waiting for. I just sit there and stare at her for a few minutes, dumbfounded and astonished that she talks me up to her coworkers enough that they thought of me when they needed my services.

"Well?" Amara asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I would love to; thank you for letting me know. Do you have any information on the person and the event? When is it? I need to find a sitter for Haven; I'm sure it is going to be a late night." I am excited and freaking out all at the same time. There are so many unanswered questions I have that Amara is not able to answer.

"First off, you don't ever have to find a sitter when I am always available, especially when it comes to you and Haven. Secondly, do you seriously think I would bring you this opportunity without getting every single detail I could possibly think of? I just thought of the questions that I knew you would ask or think in your mind to ask the client," she laughs as she gets up to go to her work bag to take out a folder.

She brings the folder over for me to look through. It has everything from the details of the gala and information on the charity, to the name and number and information on the couple wanting to hire me, even the salons and boutiques they recommend and have a credit in my name. I can feel the emotions begin to overwhelm me; the tears sneak out without being given permission. My hand covers my mouth as all the emotions rush out all at once. Amara rushes to my side and gathers me in her arms.

"You deserve this, Indya. Out of every person in the world, you deserve this the most. I have a feeling that this opportunity is going to open so many doors for you. You will finally be able to do what you love, helping people communicate and feel a part of the conversation around them. You are going to blow everyone away, with not only your fluid, graceful signing, but also your knowledge of the deaf community.

"I am so proud of you. I thank the stars above every night and every morning that out of all the places you could have gone to on campus, you walked into the café I worked at. It is because of you that I am working towards my degree and have the confidence to want to work my way up in finance. I love you. You and Haven are the best things that have ever happened to me."

We are both crying now. I never knew she thought so highly of me and what I do; it makes me squeeze her tighter and love her harder. I don't know how long we stay embraced and in our own little bubble, but that peaceful bubble bursts, as a throat clears from the hallway.

"Were you ever going to come to bed, Amara? We do have to wake up early for work. Some of us have responsibilities to take care of without the help of others." He says the last part, looking at me. It is no secret that we dislike each other, but him being an asshole while Amara is in the same room is something new.

The look on Amara's face is priceless. It's the look that whoever is on the other end of it is going to regret speaking to her or even breathing the same oxygen. Oh yeah, she is about to let that fire loose on Trevor, and I am so glad to be right here to witness the whole thing go down.

"Excuse me, Trevor, I did not realize my father was here and was given a bedtime. You do realize that I am a grown-ass woman who answers to no one, right? I can go to bed whenever the fuck I feel like and still be up and ready at the same time every day, fulfilling every task thrown at me and doing it with a fucking smile on my face, while shining like the damn sun, making everyone I come into contact with day's brighter just for being in my vicinity," she seethes up at him from the sofa.

Amara stands up, her eyes blazing. "Trevor, I've told you before, Indya and Haven are my family. If you can't respect that, then you need to deal with it on your own time. Indya contributes more to this household than you can imagine, and she does it with grace and strength. So, if you have a problem with that, you can take it up with me."

My best friend's anger is palpable, her eyes blazing with fury. Trevor just stands there, taking the tongue lashing, his face and neck turning a deep, almost purplish red. He looks like he's about to explode, but Amara isn't finished with him just yet.

"Also, what in the fucking fuck do you mean, 'some of us have responsibilities to take care of without the help of others,' huh? You do realize that Indya works at the elementary school and is there every day from nine in the morning until two thirty in the afternoon. Not only that, she has to leave here no later than eight to get Haven dropped off at daycare to get to work with enough time to get settled and ready for the day. Then, when she gets off work, she has to make the drive to the daycare center to pick up Haven, speak with the caregivers about the details of the day, then drive the rest of the way home to get here at three."

Trevor's fists clench at his sides, but he doesn't interrupt. Amara steps closer, her voice lowering but losing none of its intensity. "You have no right to belittle her contributions. Financial support isn't the only kind of support that matters. Indya's presence, her love, and her dedication are invaluable. If you can't see that, then maybe you need to rethink your relationship with me."

Trevor's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he remains silent, his anger simmering just below the surface. Amara's words hang in the air, heavy with truth and conviction. The room feels charged, like a storm about to break.

Finally, Trevor mutters something under his breath and turns on his heel, retreating back to the bedroom. The door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing through the now-quiet living room.

Amara takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She turns to me, her expression softening. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Indya. You deserve so much better."

I give her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Amara. For standing up for me. It means a lot."

She pulls me into a comforting hug. "Always. Now, go get some rest. We'll figure everything out in the morning."

As I head to my room, file in hand, I can't help but feel a sense of relief and gratitude. Amara's unwavering support gives me the strength to face whatever comes next.

Once in my room, I close the door and set the file on my mattress, changing into my pajamas—shorts, and a tank top. Before opening the file again, to take a closer look, I fall back onto the pillows, smiling so big at the ceiling. Then suddenly, I can't help myself; I start kicking my legs and smacking the mattress with my arms in excitement. I get so overjoyed I have to place the pillow over my face to squeal like a teenage girl getting the news that One Direction is back together.

After finally pulling myself together and reminding myself that I am an adult and a mother, I open the file and start studying the information given to me. I grab my laptop and go to my good friend, Google, and research the charity, the event, and the hosts. I never research the clients on the internet, as I want to know them personally, in real life, not something someone else has to say about them. Even when I research the host of the event, I only write down their names and positions for the board of the charity.

The money raised at this gala is going toward scholarships for underprivileged children who are not academically challenged at the school they attend, and their families cannot afford for them to go to a school that is more advanced. This scholarship allows the child to finish their schooling at a private school until the day they graduate high school.

This is an amazing opportunity for those children. I wish that we had something like this in Washington, DC, when I was younger, because I did not feel challenged when it came to any of the work that I was given. I didn't feel academically challenged until I began college, but I think I turned out okay.

After reading over the file and the information that I researched a couple of times, I set the laptop and folder on the nightstand and turned off the light. I am still overly excited at the opportunity, but I am glad that I get to be a part of something as extraordinary as the charity gala and what it stands for. I close my eyes, falling into dreams of starry nights and beautiful opportunities. I can still feel the smile on my face as I fall into slumber, looking forward to the sun rising and our new life to begin.