Muffins & Moonbeams Page 7

  “Got a second?”

  “Gimme one—need to finish this.” Malachi frowned at the price. He could probably get the guy down another thousand credits, but how long would it take? He had the money. Fine. He accepted and transferred the in-game cash. The upgrade would be installed on his ship in three hours. Most days, the fact that they tried to make the game more realistic with wait times for certain upgrades was annoying. But tonight...well he could just chat with Ursula. He typed back. “Okay. I’m here. What’s up?”

  “You’re a guy, right? IRL?”

  He frowned. Did she really not recognize who he was? Or was she joking around? Either way, he could play. “Yes. Why?”

  “Need advice from a guy perspective.”

  “Shoot.”

  “If a girl kisses you, does it bother you that she made the first move?”

  Malachi shook his head. “Nope.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Did he not kiss you back? Or wipe his mouth after or something that made you think this?” Malachi pulled his lip between his teeth. Had he messed up somewhere?

  “No. Nothing like that. I just...it’s more forward than I’ve ever been.”

  “Pretty sure it’s not a problem.”

  “Do you really think that’s the general feeling amongst guys?”

  “Seriously? Yeah. Takes the pressure off. Unless you kissed him and don’t ever want to do it again. That would be a bummer.” He held his breath as he hit enter. Two could play this game.

  “Ha ha. Definitely not the case. Just worried I might have messed everything up.”

  “Guarantee you didn’t.”

  “Blaming you if it turns out you’re wrong.”

  He grinned. No chance of that. “Fair enough. What mission are you on?”

  Their talk turned to the game and snippets—generic ones—about their day. Malachi offered a silent prayer of thanks that she’d asked. And that she appeared to take him at face value. But still...he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a new text.

  “Hey. Thinking of you. Had a good time last night. Grinned all day.”

  There. That ought to put her mind at ease. In the game, Ursula stopped mid-story about one of her web clients and said she had to run. A minute later, his phone chimed with an incoming text. Malachi set his computer aside. Maybe this was better.

  10

  Ursula clutched her Bible to her chest and scanned the crowd in the foyer. Grace Fellowship wasn’t large...how was she missing Malachi? A woman in her mid-to-late forties hurried toward her, a grin on her face. Was she the welcome wagon? Not that that was bad, but...Ursula’s stomach tightened. It always seemed so awkward and forced.

  Malachi’s arm came around her shoulder and he kissed her cheek before signing hello. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Ursula turned to face him. “It’s okay. But I was starting to worry.”

  Malachi moved his arm and signed without speaking. “Sorry. I saw Mrs. Poncetta heading for you and got here as fast as I could.”

  “She’s not nice?” Ursula signed, her gaze darting to the woman who had stopped and watched them with her mouth agape.

  “Oh, she is. Just seems to be in charge of making sure everyone’s plugged in. Whether you want to be or not. We should go get a seat.”

  Ursula nodded, but pulled her lip between her teeth. “Do you think...I could sign the sermon for you? I’ve been practicing.”

  His eyebrows rose but he nodded. “Sure.”

  She grinned. She liked his family, it wasn’t that. But the idea of sitting with him alone was much more appealing. She slipped her hand into his as they entered the sanctuary and scanned for seats. There was space somewhat near the front. That would be good. Even though her books had arrived and she’d been practicing madly, there were likely to be terms in a sermon she didn’t know. If they were closer to the front, maybe Malachi could still read the pastor’s lips. Was there a book for specifically church-related signs? She made a mental note to poke around online. At least for the singing they projected the words, so she didn’t have to do anything but lose herself in worship.

  The sermon was fantastic. The pastor talked about the armor of God from Ephesians six, with a reminder that the devil wanted nothing more than to turn believers away from their calling by getting them to focus on the little details of life instead of what God would have them do. Or by letting them believe lies about themselves. Thus the importance of the armor to protect and defend as a way of daily life. It was too bad she couldn’t take notes. She’d have to listen to the podcast later in the week. They had one, didn’t they?

  Malachi had only looked confused a couple times. When she caught his expression, she jotted a note and made him smile. What had she signed instead? When they stood for the benediction, he took her hand and wove his fingers through hers. Warmth coursed through her.

  “Lunch?” He met her gaze as she turned to collect her things.

  Ursula nodded. “I’d like that.”

  * * *

  “This is Triton.” Ursula scooped up the cat and stroked his head before offering him to Malachi.

  Malachi pressed his lips together and tentatively ran a hand down the creature’s back. He hadn’t caught the cat’s name the first time he came over. “Triton? Really?”

  Ursula shrugged. “I was born after the movie came out, but it was still hilarious in elementary school. So I never wear purple, but otherwise, I can roll with it. I don’t look anything like her.”

  “That’s true.” He put his hands in his pockets.

  Ursula set the cat down. “You said you weren’t allergic. So...not a cat fan?”

  “Not opposed. Just...not familiar.”

  Hmm. Well, Triton was a love. If any cat was going to warm someone up and make them a cat person, it was him. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Okay.” She sighed. Lunch at the Sunrise Cafe after church had been great. Now things were stilted and weird. Again. What was she doing wrong?

  Malachi closed the distance between them. He took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Ursula closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, her arms winding around his waist.

  Malachi eased back, resting his forehead on hers. “I’ve been waiting to do that since Wednesday.”

  The corners of her mouth tipped into a smile. “I’m so glad. I was worried. So I...”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You?”

  Heat crawled up her neck and spread across her cheeks. “Do you like computer games?”

  Malachi nodded. “What’s not to like?”

  “Ever heard of Orion’s Quest?”

  He nodded again.

  She cleared her throat. It shouldn’t be this difficult. It’s not like it was an alternate life. Not really. Except...it kind of was. She could be fearless and strong in the game. And no one had to know she was dynamite waiting to explode and ruin any relationship she was part of. But it seemed dishonest to keep that part of herself a secret. “I really like that game. I play almost every night. It started out as a way for me and my dad to hang out together. He’s not much on email or instant messages. But he’ll play a game, you know?”

  Malachi smiled. “Sounds like a typical guy.”

  “I love my dad. When I call home, Mom tends to hog the conversation. And that’s fine, I love her, too. But it’s nice to have something that’s just ours. Anyway...he can’t always play when I can, or vice versa, so I started playing more on my own, at first to keep my experience level roughly equal to his so our missions weren’t unbalanced and then because I really enjoyed it. And I’ve made some friends there—which is easier, in many ways, than in person. At least for me. I actually asked one of them, I probably consider him my best friend if we’re being honest, if I’d messed things up by kissing you. It’s not something I’d normally have done. And anyway, he said not to worry about it. I’m glad he was right. But, um, back to the game.” She took a de
ep breath, her heart hammering in her chest. Her dad was the only other person she’d ever told her screen name to. “If you ever want to play...look me up. I’m Scarlet Fire.”

  “I know.”

  All the air seemed to get sucked from her body. She drew her eyebrows together. Her mouth opened and shut several times before she could squeeze out words. “What do you mean?”

  “I put it together—almost immediately.” Malachi tapped his chest. “I’m MalRen. You...you didn’t figure it out?”

  She shook her head and couldn’t quite figure out how to get it to stop. She blinked as the back of her eyes began to burn. All those conversations...she’d asked about the kiss...oh why couldn’t the floor just open and swallow her whole? “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

  Her churning emotions solidified into a hard, hot ball lodged in her chest. She’d dated a liar once, and that was one time too many. She wasn’t going back down that road. Not even for the first man in a long time she’d thought she could love. “That’s two things you’ve lied about and tried to hide. Being deaf and the game. I think maybe you should go. Your website will be live tomorrow. It’s probably best if you find someone else to continue with maintenance and updates.”

  11

  “You’re back a lot sooner than I thought you’d be.” Micah hit the mute button on the TV and frowned. “Everything okay?”

  Malachi shook his head and kept walking.

  Micah appeared in front of him and put a hand on his chest. “Whoa. Dude. What’s going on?”

  Malachi signed, not trusting his voice. What did a breaking heart sound like? “She dumped me.”

  “Seriously? What for?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Malachi’s hands flashed and he jerked away from his brother. Couldn’t people just leave him alone? Everyone had pushed and pushed at him—go make friends, get involved, people don’t think you’re the dumb deaf guy. Sure. Whatever. Look how well that had turned out. He trudged up the stairs and went straight to his room, locking the door behind him before flopping face-first onto the bed.

  Now what? He wasn’t logging on to the game. That much was certain. Even though his new drive was long past ready and there were missions in the far reaches that promised lucrative bonuses and exploration points. It didn’t matter anymore. He’d quit playing solely for fun more than a year ago. It had all been about Scarlet Fire. She was the first person outside his family in...forever...who got him. Or so it had seemed.

  Was it another case of missing nuances in people’s conversation because he couldn’t hear their tone? Sarcasm was often lost on him, but did it go deeper than that? After all, he’d chatted with Ursula via text. How had he still missed her tone? He pounded his fist into the bed. He tried so hard not to blame God. But seriously, wasn’t enough enough? He was deaf. The last memories he had of hearing his parents were from when he was a small child. Sure, he had memories of signing with them. But it wasn’t the same. He was stuck between two worlds and didn’t fit in either one.

  He’d tried for the longest time to fit into the hearing world. His family helped. They never—not even once—made his loss of hearing an issue. They’d taken it in stride and signing had become the new normal in their family. To the point that Micah, and possibly the others, but he knew about Micah for sure, had signed while visiting friends even though Malachi hadn’t been with them. But outside his family he’d been somewhere on the line between freak and novelty—an object of ridicule or curiosity.

  He didn’t want to be an object. He just wanted to be Malachi.

  So he’d gone to Gallaudet for college and, ironically, had found the reverse of the situation. He did have memories of hearing. And he wasn’t willing to cloister himself fully into the deaf community. Though he understood the draw, it didn’t sit well with him to exclude the few hearing friends and family members he had. The hearing world wanted him to see his deafness as a disability. The deaf world considered it a benefit. His heart landed somewhere in between.

  In the end, he’d withdrawn from both, with the exception of his family. Until now.

  Malachi sighed and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

  Ursula was half-wrong. He’d never lied about being deaf. Nor had he tried to hide it from her. Everyone in Arcadia Valley—at least everyone he’d run into—had already known, so he’d assumed. And okay, sure, spell out assume. But he wasn’t in the habit of saying, “Hi, I’m Malachi, and I’m deaf.” He’d had people who didn’t believe him in the past. Ruth said it was because he didn’t sound deaf when he spoke unless you were really listening for it. But he didn’t deny it when someone asked. Why would he?

  He hadn’t really lied about the game, either. Although you could make—and win—a case for a lie of omission on that one, so it wasn’t a point he’d argue. He should’ve said something to her. Asked. Hinted around. Something. Maybe there’d been a small part of him that enjoyed having that leg up. And if that was the case, it painted a less-than-flattering picture of his character. Did it matter that it wasn’t his intention to lie?

  Probably not.

  It was all moot now, anyway. She’d told him to leave. Fired the bakery as a client. It really didn’t get much more final than that. He scrubbed a hand over his face. The bakery website was the biggest casualty in all this. She said it was ready, but still, there were bound to be tweaks and updates as they used it for the first several months. It’d be better—easier, certainly—if she’d keep on, at least for a little while.

  Maybe Ruth could talk her into it.

  Malachi pushed himself off the bed. He opened the door and peeked out a crack. Maybe his brothers really were leaving him alone. He needed a hot shower and then...well, then he’d crawl in bed and stare at nothing until either he fell asleep or it was morning.

  He was banking on the latter.

  * * *

  “You’re in early.” Jonah looked up from kneading a large lump of dough. Micah was busy scooping batter into muffin pans.

  Malachi nodded and headed for the office. It wasn’t quite six a.m., but he’d meant to get the first newsletter scheduled so it would be delivered and available to their customers first thing. If there was any chance of making that happen, he had to work fast.

  Jonah was at his side as Malachi pulled out the desk chair. Was his brother following him? “What?”

  “You okay?”

  Malachi shook his head. “I will be. Just...leave it. Okay?”

  Jonah held his gaze for the space of a few heartbeats before nodding. “Muffins this week are the oat-applesauce-hazelnut. We also have zucchini. Cookies are chocolate chip and oatmeal chocolate chip, special bread is sun-dried tomato. Limited quantities on that last one ‘cause it doesn’t keep well at all and I’m only making up what gets ordered and a loaf or two each day extra. Won’t have any today until almost closing since I’ll be waiting to hear from you about orders.”

  Malachi scribbled down the list and offered it to Jonah to double-check.

  “Yep. Holler if you need anything else.”

  “Get me a photo of the muffins and cookies, would you? If you have some ready?”

  “I can do that. Check your email.” Jonah patted Malachi on the back and went back into the kitchen.

  Malachi closed the door. If Jonah was asking, Micah was concerned and had nagged him into coming to talk to Malachi. Jonah was the second-to-biggest guns when it came to trying to get a sibling to open up. Brushing Jonah off was a risk...but Ruth wouldn’t be able to come out until lunch. At the earliest. Maybe by then he’d feel like talking.

  For now...he opened the newsletter service and navigated through their clunky design interface. It was time to get this CSB moving forward. And focus on something he could control. He’d set up the header last week—a picture that, if he was honest, came out better than he’d anticipated. Loaves of bread speared out of a basket on top of the bakery display case, more lin
ed the shelves. There were even muffins on display. No cookies. But nothing was perfect. Micah sat in his usual spot by the cash register and Jonah was peeking out the door. It told the story well enough.

  His email indicator flashed. Malachi switched to that and considered the photos Jonah sent. They were good—almost artistic. They’d work. He downloaded them to the desktop and went to work with a breezy introduction, a reminder of the perks of local or fair-trade organic ingredients, their new hours, the Saturday farmers market, Wednesday afternoon Twin Falls delivery times, and then outlined the week’s specials. He directed them to the website for special orders and quickly switched over to see that the page he needed was, in fact, fully operational. It was. At least Ursula wasn’t one of those people who would take out a personal issue on a professional connection.

  He hadn’t really believed she would. But the doubt had niggled at him.

  The email was missing...something. A recipe? But that would send people off to their own kitchens rather than to the bakery. Unless it was for something to go along with the bread? Or maybe a recipe that used it? But who needed a recipe for a sandwich? He smiled and began to type. Corban might be annoyed, but a spotlight on the farmer who provided so many of their staple ingredients, between the wheat and zucchini, seemed like a reasonable addition. Besides, he and Ruth were getting married. He was practically part of the family already.

  After another read-through and a few minor tweaks, it was ready to go. Malachi took a deep breath and clicked send just after seven a.m. That should be close enough to first thing to still let people make their choices for any special orders. And if not, well, he’d get it set up to deliver at something like two in the morning next week. For now, the deed was done. He sniffed. And so, apparently, was another batch of muffins. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t made breakfast before heading in. Since he’d told both of his brothers to leave him be, maybe they’d let him snag a muffin without pressing for details. Of course, if they did, it probably meant they’d already roped in Ruth.