For Pete’s Sake

“Go on. Get.” He laughed.
Twenty minutes later Christie was introducing Peter to her mother and father in their living room.
“SO YOU’RE PETER.” He raised his voice.
“You don’t have to shout, Dad,” Christie laughed, squeezing Peter’s hand. “He can’t talk, but he can hear just fine.” She looked up at Peter, and he liked the way her eyes reflected the light.
“Sorry.” Joshua lowered his voice. “Just a habit, I suppose.”
Martha said, “Why don’t you two sit in here by the fire? Dinner won’t be ready for a spell.”
“I’ll help you, Mom,” Christie volunteered.
“That’s alright, Christie. Why don’t you stay here with Peter and your father?”
“Let me help, mom. Please?”
“Oh . . . Oh, yes.” She suddenly understood. “Of course, dear. You can help me with the salad.”
“Good idea,” Joshua said. “Peter and me, we’ll sit out here and have us a talk.” He laughed at the joke he had just made. “Well, one of us will talk anyway.”
As Christie left the room she heard her father ask Peter, “What kind of plans you got for my Christie, boy?”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, shaking her head. As the kitchen door closed behind her, she put her ear to it and listened.
“What are you doing, Christie?” Martha asked.
“Shhh.” She put her finger to her lips.
I don’t understand, Peter signed.
Joshua shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re trying to say, boy.”
Peter pointed to the kitchen and then to himself. He clenched his fists, crossed his wrists, and pressed them against his chest.
“I have a notion what that means.” Joshua looked at him sternly. “How do you plan to support her? You’re just a stock clerk.”
Peter nodded his head affirmatively and signed the letters, “P-A-R-T-N-E-R-S.”
“What’s that mean?”
He hadn’t told Christie yet. His uncle told him this morning that he was making him a partner in the store. George told Peter he suspected he and Christie might get married someday, and he wanted them to live above the store.
“I told you I don’t understand that stuff you’re doing with your hands.” Joshua shook his head.
Peter sighed and took out his notepad. He practiced every day and his handwriting had dramatically improved over the past few months. He quickly wrote a brief note and handed it to Joshua.
“What’s this?” He read the note and smiled. “Partners, uh? Well, I’ll be damned.” He scratched his head. “If George Greeley trusts you with that store of his I guess you must not be so dumb after all.”
Dinner was a lot more pleasant than Christie had anticipated. Joshua talked to Peter throughout the meal as if he had known him all his life. Peter made signs, nodded, shook his head, smiled and frowned in all the right places.
Later, after Christie left to drive Peter home, Joshua put some more logs on the fire. The nights were becoming colder as winter approached. He poked at the logs until he was satisfied they were going to burn. He hung the poker in the rack beside the fireplace, turned around, and put his hands behind his back. Martha was sitting on the sofa. She had opened a book she had wanted to finish for several days and was just starting to read.
“You know something, Martha?”
“What’s that, dear?”
“I may have been wrong about that Reynolds boy.”
She smiled.
“Do you know what he said while you and Christie were in the kitchen?” He chuckled. “Well, he didn’t really say it. He did that thing with his hands and then he wrote it out. He said George Greeley made him a partner in that store of his.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yep. I suppose I was wrong. That boy might be all right.”