Was he joking? “I can’t. I’m deaf. I haven’t skated since I lost my hearing.”
The letter requesting her to perform in a reunion of past Olympic medalists had saddened her. She’d never be able to be the same woman she’d been ten years ago. Honestly, she wasn’t certain how the Fund’s committee had even learned of her whereabouts. Liam had shielded her, made sure to keep her out of the media. Outside of her circle of friends and some of the townspeople, nobody knew she’d once been one of the most accomplished figure skaters in the world. The small town of Amesport had kept her secret. It had grown over the last ten years, but the original residents had stayed silent, respected the fact that she was healing. Once she’d recovered, Rick had dumped her, and she’d come back home for good, her accident had been old news, and it really hadn’t mattered anymore.
Micah shrugged as he took a slug of coffee and then dug into his eggs, bacon, and toast. “You could still do it.”
She picked up her mug, but froze as she read his response. “I can’t perform. I haven’t skated in years, and I can’t even hear the music. The Sinclair Fund obviously doesn’t realize that I can’t hear.”
One other problem was that the event was taking place in New York City. Tessa was comfortable right here in Amesport. She didn’t want to travel to New York.
Chewing on his toast, he stared at her for a long time before answering, “I didn’t think you were the type of woman to give up easily.”
He was calling her a quitter, and that pissed her off. “I’m retired from the sport. I had no choice. Deaf people don’t do skating performances.” She took a sip of her coffee, irritated that he was making it sound like she had any other option than to give up her skating career.
“The Fund is offering a very lucrative deal, and it’s for a good cause.”
Tessa felt tears of disappointment spring into her eyes, but she blinked them away as she sipped her coffee and then set the mug back on the table. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to do the appearance; it wasn’t possible. They were offering good payment that she could desperately use, and all profits from the event were going to a children’s charity that she really wanted to support.
A single tear escaped as she picked up her fork and attacked her eggs. Eating slowly, she avoided looking at his face.
She couldn’t do it . . . period! Tessa didn’t want to look at Micah and see his disappointed expression. It was clear to her that he really did think she could simply hit the ice and skate again. Maybe he had confidence in her, but she had none in herself when it came to doing the impossible. And she was almost angry at him for making it seem like performing again would be no big deal.
Maybe he could do anything, and thought nothing of risking his life by jumping from places that weren’t made to be launch sites.
Maybe he was cocky enough to think that he was invincible.
She . . . wasn’t.
The last thing she needed was to feel like a failure . . . again. Not when she was only now regaining control of her life.
Most of the time, she could forget who she’d been before she’d lost her hearing, but that stupid offer from the Sinclair Fund had temporarily brought it all rushing back with a vengeance. After her hearing loss, she’d put aside all thoughts of skating again. What was the point? It was a career path that she could never follow, and forgetting had been the sensible thing to do back then. She’d lost her fiancé over her handicap, and she’d taken a lot of emotional blows since she’d left Boston and the man she’d once worshipped.
After Tessa’s father had passed away, her mother had needed help in the restaurant. When her mom had gotten sick, soon after her dad’s death, and then died only a year later, Tessa had been thrust into the role of restaurant owner quickly. Liam had come home for good, giving up a well-loved, lucrative career to be here in Amesport with her. Back then, she’d needed her brother, had clung to him like a lifeline. Now, he was “helping her” until he drove her nearly insane.
It’s time to move on. I’m finally content with my life now. I can’t go back. I don’t want to go back.
Finally, she answered, “You don’t understand. You have no idea what it’s like to suddenly lose everything you’ve ever known, everything you care about.” She’d been incredibly isolated, suddenly handicapped, and unable to do the thing she’d loved most in the world.
She’d had so many losses over the course of five or six years that she hadn’t been able to take another blow. She’d never had time to recover. Losing her hearing, her fiancé, her skating career, her father, and then finally her mom, all in a relatively short period of time, had nearly killed her.
Over time, she’d learned to function in a world with no sound. She was finally at peace with her condition. The last thing she needed was to reopen old wounds. She’d come too far to slide backward now.
There wasn’t really a deaf community in her area, and she’d already had friends, so it had just been a matter of learning to connect with them again. The need to be able to communicate and not feel so isolated had been almost an obsession. She’d learned to read lips as quickly as possible when she was with Rick, and she’d become an expert at it from years of practice. ASL was easier, but other than Liam, her parents, and her best friend, Randi, nobody knew sign language. Becoming very, very good at lip reading had been her only option. And she was good at it, so good that some people didn’t even notice she was deaf if she was having a face-to-face conversation with them.
Liam had told her that her speaking voice sounded almost identical to her pre-deafness voice. Her friends had claimed the same thing. But Tessa would never really know if they were pacifying her, or if what they said was the truth. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, but all of them had kind hearts, and what person who cared about her was going to tell a deaf woman that she talked strangely?
Slowly, she’d lost touch with most of her old friends in the area, feeling different from all of her former friends. It hurt to be different, but she’d learned to live with the distance between herself and old friends; most of them were still acquaintances, and they were kind to her.
Tessa startled as she felt the warmth of Micah’s large, strong hand cradling hers. Her eyes flew to his face.
“I’ll help you, Tessa.” The look on his face was intense as he spoke. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I can’t do it at all,” she mumbled, unable to pull her hand from his. That simple contact warmed her, and the need for human connection was gnawing at her soul.
“Yes, you can. We danced, and you’re still just as graceful as you ever were. You can feel the rhythm of music somehow. You must.”
Actually, she really didn’t hear whatever music was playing. She could sense vibrations. Once she understood the tempo, she matched a piece of music to that pace in her head. With Micah’s confident lead, she’d been easily able to waltz with him. That night, the evening of Hope’s ball last winter, had been a very memorable evening. She’d felt like Cinderella, and she’d never wanted to leave Micah’s arms. Unfortunately, the dance had ended, but Tessa still hadn’t forgotten the feel of his powerful body guiding her, immersing her in sensation.