Public Relations

Chapter 32: Mia

Brett is still in my apartment when I wake up the next morning. He's there three mornings later, too, brewing coffee for me as I step out of the shower. He knows how I like it, which terrifies me at first, but I quickly grow used to waking up to a ready-made mug.

We'd fallen into something easy, a type of comfort we were both careful not to discuss too thoroughly. Overanalyzing it would only escalate it, and right now we were apparently keen on keeping things slow and steady.

Early the following week, I step out of my apartment and bump right into Sean. His strawberry hair is slick with sweat and a heavily taped cardboard box occupies his hands. PLANTS is written on it in dark Sharpie. He makes a vague sound upon seeing me, his face lighting up with glee, and he hastily sets the box down so we can communicate.

I feel insecurity wash over me. As if it wasn't bad enough watching him pursue his dreams while I was stuck in the endless loop of a dead end career, I'm now unemployed and very leisurely looking for my next move. His future is so promising, so clear, and mine is so murky.

The moment the box hits the ground, I'm enveloped in one of his sincere hugs, tight and punctuated with the feeling of his breath in my hair. I can't help but smile against him; the severity to which he loves others will never not be endearing.

When we pull away, he gestures to the box. It's my last day, he signs. I haven't seen you in weeks.

A sheepish grin paints my face, my cheeks likely tinged rogue. I've been going through a lot.

He laughs. I didn't expect you to fall in love with Brett of all people!

My eyes narrow into slits. Who said I'm in love with him?

At this, Sean gives me an are you kidding? kind of look, cocking his head to one side to challenge me. When I only blink in expectant response, he finally sighs. I'm Deaf, not blind. He drove you crazy, but I'm glad you could find your person.

You too! I reply, hoping to brush over any remaining conversation about Brett. R-E-B-E-C-C-A, right? Very pretty. I wink at him.

Sean blushes and a smile takes over him, brightening his demeanor tenfold. She's my costar.

I raise my eyebrows, egging him to continue on.

We've only gone on a few dates, he admits. He nervously fingers the hem of his old shirt, a navy blue number I'd seen a dozen times before. It reads HOWIE'S HOTDOGS - HOT AND FRESH, and, fittingly, there's a mustard stain just above a cartoon dog wearing a hotdog costume. 

In all my time knowing Sean, he'd never been anything but calm. Scatterbrained, perhaps, and a touch unpredictable, but always down to earth. Seeing him anxiously twiddling his fingers was brand new to me, and it filled me with joy.

I hope that it works out for you, I tell him, and I mean it. Not just with your girlfriend, but with your movie. I'll be the first person to watch it at the box office.

Sean rolls his eyes. When? You never have time!

I purse my lips, hoping my humiliation isn't apparent on my face. This could be it - we could part ways here and his memory of me could remain the previous Mia, the cutthroat PR agent with a killer sense of business casual style and a caffeine addiction. But the Mia who stood before him was in cotton shorts from Target and hadn't washed her hair in six days. The Mia who stood before him had been fundamentally changed by him, and he deserved to know.

I have lots of time now, since I quit my job.

Sean's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth falling open. I watch him process this information slowly, churning it through the beautiful labyrinth of his mind. No, you didn't, he signs.