Across the tent, Patricia stopped moving.
Whitney turned toward Paige.
Neither looked comfortable.
I signed slowly and clearly.
“For the past year, I’ve understood the conversations happening at your family’s dinner table.”
Patricia’s champagne glass remained halfway to her mouth.
I looked directly at her.
Then I repeated the remarks I’d heard.
“Cheap dress.”
“She’s only after his money.”
“Give it six months.”
“Charity case.”
“Store-bought.
Throw it out.”
“Good.
No in-laws to deal with.”
And finally:
“She’ll be gone by Christmas.”
I hadn’t exaggerated anything.
Those were their words.
I watched Patricia’s expression change as she recognized each one.
Ben stood up.
“Nora, what’s happening?”
He looked toward his mother.
“Mom, what is she saying?”
Patricia didn’t answer.
Whitney stared at the table.
Paige looked away.
I turned toward Ben.
“I’ve been understanding your mother and sisters for a year.
They’ve been insulting me in sign language because they thought I couldn’t understand.”
He looked from me to his family.
“Is that true?”
Nobody answered.
Then Evelyn raised her hand.
She pointed to me and nodded.
I understood.
I picked up the microphone.