His Surprise Son

There was a long, raw moment where they didn’t look at each other. Josh walked back to the table and picked up the frame again.

“What’s he like?” The single question seemed to pierce through all the pain in the room.

She felt herself smile. “Curious and smart, like you. Stubborn, like his grandfather. Opinionated, like his mother.” She looked straight at him. “And deaf. Your son is deaf.”

* * *

Deaf.

Josh felt the word push at him, like a typhoon trying to knock him over. He, a man who made his career in an electronic music application that was lauded for how perfectly it worked, had a son who couldn’t hear.

The whole idea of Jonah’s existence was such foreign territory, Josh could barely get his head around the fact that he had a son. His entire body felt still and cold. His lungs couldn’t pull in enough air; his brain hurt from slamming together facts he had with possibilities he couldn’t grasp. He had not just a son, but one with needs he couldn’t begin to understand.

His thoughts whirled in a million directions as he tried to sort it all out. He stared at the photograph, somehow wanting the image to give him a foothold into the world he’d just entered.

It offered no grounding. As a matter of fact, it was a few moments before he realized he hadn’t given Jean any kind of response.

“He’s deaf.” Not exactly genius dialogue, but he was working in shock mode here—eloquence was far beyond him.

“Yes. Since birth.”

“So he can’t hear anything at all?”

She was watching him, waiting for his reaction. Josh wanted to get it right, to say and do the right thing at this incredibly crucial moment. Still, the idea of a deaf son—disjointed speech, hearing aids, isolated from communication the rest of the world took for granted—was all so overwhelmingly new. Suddenly, being introduced to Jonah presented ten times the test it had been minutes ago.

How do I meet and get to know someone I can’t even communicate with well? He wasn’t even especially good with kids. The path to Jonah’s silent world gaped like an impassable bridge.

Her eyes flashed just a bit at his hesitation, and he saw a glimpse of a mother’s fierce protection. “He’s not broken, Josh. He’s perfect the way he is, just different.” Her words and the jut of her chin dared him to try to pronounce otherwise. He didn’t think of the boy as broken—at least he didn’t think so—but he couldn’t sort through the riot of thoughts going on in his head right now.

“Jonah is profoundly deaf,” she went on. “Perhaps as a result of a high fever I had when I was pregnant—we don’t really know. When he wears his hearing aids, he can sense extremely loud noises, but not speech.” She paused just a moment as if guessing his next question. “Or music.”

He’d worked that out almost immediately, but the words had a stunning weight when he heard her speak them. My son cannot hear music. As ironies go, this one was huge and dramatic. Another realization hit him as hard as the first, and he stared deeply into her eyes. “Did you never tell me because you didn’t think I could handle his disability?” Direct, maybe, but Josh felt he was entitled to be direct given the circumstances.

She paused before answering. “I didn’t know he was deaf until he was three months old. It made things harder—especially when your father found out...”

“How did he know?” Josh started to shout, then remembered Jonah was upstairs asleep—then remembered Jonah was deaf—it was all tangling into knots inside his head. How was he supposed to act here? He didn’t have a clue.

“I told you, I don’t know how he found out. Does it really matter?”

“Yes,” he shot back. “No. I don’t know.”

“It made it easier to come up with reasons not to tell you.” When he shot her a look for that, she sighed and said, “You never had much patience for things that don’t work the way they’re supposed to.”

“Things,” he corrected, anger and betrayal churning in his gut. “Not people. I can’t believe the way you think I’d...” He stared at her before sinking back into the chair. “Did you ever really love me?”

“Yes.”

“And still you think I’d reject you and our child.” It stabbed at him that she could think such a thing.

“Not reject.” Her jaw worked, as if she was hunting for the right words. “You’re brilliant, and when you’re captivated by something, it’s astounding. I felt astounded by you in school.” She sighed. “But it was never about balance, Josh. I didn’t truly realize that until SymphoCync. You were captivated by work, not me. I don’t even think you noticed how unhappy I was. You can’t be that way with Jonah. Jonah requires—deserves—lots of attention and patience. I didn’t want to have to go begging for those things from you.” Evidently, her talent for prickling his temper by hitting too close to the bone hadn’t faded with the years.

“That’s not fair,” he retorted. But she wasn’t wrong. He hated the fact, but she wasn’t wrong. Silicon Valley, his valley, worshipped obsessive, workaholic people like him. Success out there demanded 150 percent of a man. He was just coming to recognize the cost of that—he was working on that with Violet now that she was the only family he had left—but he had a long way to go. “It doesn’t change that I had a right to know. You had no right to keep this from me.”

“I accept that, but Josh, am I really that far off? Do you know how many days you took off during the time I was out in California with you? Three. You proposed to me on the front steps of your office building.”

He planted his hands on the table, rocking it a bit with the force of his gesture. “We were sharing our success together.”

“No. You were enjoying your success. I was just grafted in. Has it changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me, when’s the last time you took a vacation? How many nights this week did you sleep at the office? Violet’s been telling me how hard it was to get you involved in this.” She looked right into his eyes. “I chose to give Jonah the gift of not being ignored or sidelined by a long-distance man too busy to be a father. That’s not a life for a child.”

“I loved you, and you kept this from me. You never gave me a chance to keep loving you. You let my father win.” The memory of what he felt for her rose up with a force just as strong as his freshly roused hate for his father.

“I believe you loved me,” she said, her voice soft, “but I don’t think you ever really knew what that meant. You thrilled me when you paid attention to me, Josh. But it was too rare. And I tried to tell you how unhappy I was, only you didn’t hear it. You never really acknowledged how sick Dad was getting. It made me realize I could never really be the center of your attention. And then I couldn’t risk that the baby wouldn’t be the center of yours, either. Or become some pawn of your father’s. So I chose what gave Jonah the best chance at happiness, and that’s here in our valley.”

Her accusations pulled at him like an undertow. “Were you ever going to tell Jonah? Or me? I mean, if I didn’t show up here today, would he or I ever have known who we are to each other?”

* * *

Who we are to each other. The words landed heavy with significance.

“I meant to,” she began. “Someday. I never set a deadline or anything, but I knew Jonah would eventually grow up and ask questions. I think I was waiting until Jonah showed signs of wanting to know.”

She rubbed her hands together. She’d always known this conversation would be hard, but in reality, it was excruciatingly painful. “That week, when one of your top engineers was out for a week with a sick child, do you remember what you said? You said families could be a distraction for a man bent on success.”

“We were late for a deadline. I was frustrated.”

“But even I could see it was how you felt. And really, isn’t it the only kind of fathering you’ve known?” Oh, Father, she prayed, seeing his expression, this is such a tangle. Only You can fix this for all of us.

“But Jean—five years?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, except to say, “Secrets get harder to reveal the longer they stay hidden. Dad always used to say we think they’re staying hidden, but they are really just piling up damage, gathering weight and pain to release when they come to light.” Gathering weight and pain. Oh, Dad, how right you were. How right you always were. “I wanted to be in a strong place when I told you. To be standing on my own two feet because I had no idea how you would react. I still don’t. Do you want a family—a real family, Josh?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t classify what I had as a real family. I hardly remember Mom. I just know Dad and his weapons-grade wielding of expectations.”

She couldn’t argue with his assessment. Josh’s father had been alone since Josh’s mother died in a car accident when Josh was ten. He’d never remarried—until he met Violet’s mother sometime in the past five years. Bartholomew Tyler was the furthest thing from what she knew a father to be, the furthest thing from the loving acceptance she’d known from Dad.

“I could have helped,” Josh offered. “I would have helped. You had to know that. I can still help. I’ve got access to all kinds of technologies, adaptations...”

And there it was. Already. A glimpse of what she feared. “Helped?” she questioned. “Or tried to fix? This is exactly what I meant. You hurl solutions at a problem until it surrenders. That’s who you are, what makes you successful, but that’s not how to love a child like Jonah.” She picked up the frame and held it toward him. “We know what technologies are out there. We see a specialist in Charlotte twice a year. But Jonah isn’t a problem to solve, Josh. He’s a boy to love.”

“I get that.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

She got up and picked up an old little wind-up truck that sat on the counter. “Roma Tompkins—she owns the antique store in town—she gave this to Jonah for his first birthday.” She wound it up, and it made the wild buzzing that always made Jonah laugh. “It tickles his palms, and he laughs. His laugh is one of my favorite sounds in the world.”

She set the toy down in front of Josh. “It’s not slick or fancy or even new. But Jonah loves it. To you, it may look like Matrimony Valley may lack for a lot of things, but people here love us. For who we are. Can you do that?”

“I deserve the chance to try, don’t you think?”

Do you deserve the chance to break my son’s heart? she thought. I don’t know yet. “People here have learned sign language just so they can talk to Jonah. The church set up a class and all kinds of people came.” Jean remembered being moved to tears at the standing-room-only sessions. She may be a single mother, but she was never alone here. She knew, even then, that she’d have been far more alone surrounded by strangers in San Jose.

“The kindergarten teacher here has a sister who is deaf, so she’s fluent in sign language. He doesn’t need a special class or an interpreter—do you know what a blessing that is?” she went on. “Jonah finds a way to talk to everyone, and everyone manages to find a way to talk to him. He’s not lacking for anything, really.”

“Except a father,” Josh said, sounding as if someone had just pulled the rug out from underneath his perfectly engineered life. She supposed, in some way, that’s exactly what she’d just done.

“Jonah has a father,” she replied. “He’s just never had a daddy. Are you ready to change that?”

Chapter Four

Josh stood next to his stepsister at the foot of “Matrimony Falls” the next morning. The site was as beautiful as Jean had described back on those starlit evenings lying on a blanket on the college lawn. As he stared at the sheets of water tumbling urgently down the endless staircase of stones, it was easy to see why she spoke of them with such awe. The gentle roar drowned out the whole world—not in the loud sense, but in the sense that it felt like a bastion of peace. Violet was right; there was something frozen in time about this place that made it an ideal setting to capture a milestone moment like getting married.

Still, the strange discord of being here with Jean Matrim, knowing what he knew now, challenged any real sense of peace. He’d barely slept after leaving Jean’s home, and he doubted she fared much better from the circles under her blue eyes.

“We’ll be the first to marry here?” Violet asked again.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Jean replied. Josh marveled at how she was able to play it so cool when he fought the dizzying sensation of his world turning in loopy, tangled circles, of his past colliding with his present while staring down his future. “I’m sure you can see why local brides and grooms have chosen Matrim’s Falls for their ceremonies for years. You and Lyle, however, will be the first to tie the knot at the foot of Matrimony Falls.”

Violet beamed and offered Josh the love-struck smile she’d been giving him with every such comment since they arrived. It was sweet, in a slightly obsessive way, how taken she was with the place and the idea of being Matrimony Falls’ first official bride.

“You’ll be the first to use this lovely new gazebo built just for weddings, too. And the first bride to walk down that flagstone aisle.” She pointed to a path of carefully laid stones that wound its way between the two wooden platforms where he assumed the guest chairs would be placed. “God’s very own chapel of leaves,” she said.

Jean talked about her dad and grandpa spouting lines like that all the time. Neither Josh nor she had much time for spirituality back in school, and he still didn’t, but the tone behind her words and their conversation last night told him priorities had shifted for Jean. Didn’t everyone say becoming a parent did that to people?

One thing hadn’t changed: she was as beautiful as he remembered. The long blond hair that entranced him back in school was cut to a sensible crop just off her shoulders. The crazy, dangly earrings she’d favored were now replaced by small gold knots. She didn’t look old by any means, but she didn’t look young, either. Now a quiet grace filled her features. There had been a time when he felt he knew everything about her, but had he really? This morning it felt as if he knew next to nothing.

When would they get more time to talk about this? He was here for only forty-eight hours—and this felt like it would take weeks to untangle.

“It’s stunning,” Josh said, mostly for Violet’s sake, but the scenery really was breathtaking. If all these wedding-ready amenities were Jean’s doing, he was impressed. “You built all this up recently?”

“The whole town’s pitched in to create what we’ve got now,” Jean replied. “Rob Falston from the hardware store built the gazebo. Dave and Maureen Rodgers laid the flagstone aisle from stone their son gave them.” She gestured toward the falls. “Of course, no one takes credit for the natural beauty and atmosphere of Matrimony Falls—that’s God’s doing.” She leaned in. “But even God’s green grass can stain a white dress and be tricky in heels, so we added the stones.”

“See?” Violet smiled. “I told you Jean thinks of everything.” His sister held up the swatches of fabric—the wedding party’s colors—and the three lengths of ribbon the florist, Kelly, had given them yesterday. “See how it all works together, Josh?”

He could see that. He’d just grasped the full extent of it two meetings ago and had a whole lot of other things on his mind now. “Very pretty, Vi.”

Jean gave him a look that told him he hadn’t entirely hidden his level of distraction. “There are so many details to a wedding,” she commiserated. “It can get a bit overwhelming. We hope to add another wedding planner at the end of the year so that we can keep up the individualized attention to each bride as we grow. But you, as our first, get my full attention.”

Violet grinned even wider. Josh really was happy for her. They had only each other now, with the father they shared and both their mothers gone, so he wanted to help—logistically and financially. It was just that Jean and Jonah had completely blindsided him.

“Why don’t you go stand at the top of the aisle, Violet, and take in the view,” he suggested to his stepsister. “I always look out from the podium an hour before I give a big speech. It makes it feel familiar, and you’ll be less nervous when you stand there on your wedding day.”

“Great idea,” said Violet, who handed Josh her notebook and turned to walk up the aisle to the trellis that marked the bride’s entrance into the clearing.

When Violet was a dozen yards away, Josh took half a step closer to Jean. While still keeping his smiling gaze on his stepsister, he leaned in and said, “When can I see him?”

Her sigh was enormous. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? I’m his father. When can I see him?”

“Try to understand how difficult this is. You can’t just show up in his life, Josh. We need to think about this, figure out how to introduce you in a way Jonah can understand and cope with. He’s five years old. Most of this is way over his head.”

Josh ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. I can’t believe I have to figure out a way to introduce myself to my own son.” He looked at her. “Have you said anything to Violet?”

“Of course not. Have you?”

“Are you kidding? I have no idea how to handle this. Or what to say, if anything.”

Violet came back down the aisle, then stood with one hand on her hip, her gaze tacking back and forth between him and Jean. “Okay,” she said slowly. “What’s going on here?”

Josh’s first thought was You’d have to be blind and deaf not to see what’s going on here, but now that felt like a terrible, tasteless thought to have. “Um... Vi, I...”

Jean took charge of the conversation. “The truth is, Violet, that your brother and I have...a bit of a history.”

Violet’s eyes popped open wider. “What kind of history?”

“In college. After. We were...together.” And the award for colossal oversimplification goes to...

“You and Mayor Jean?” Violet’s eyes opened wider, if that was possible. “Wait...wait, she’s that Jean? Wow. What are the odds?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the past eighteen hours,” Josh replied.

“You know,” Violet said, “I think I’ll just head on back to Kelly at the flower shop and go over these colors again. Or order more centerpieces. Leave you two kids to settle things.” Being three years older than Violet, Josh took issue with the “you two kids” remark, but not enough to say anything.

“Do whatever makes you happy,” he told his stepsister.

“Or takes a lot of time,” she added, smirking. “Remember we’ve got lunch reservations to taste the entrées at eleven thirty.” Violet looked at Jean. “You’re welcome to join us, you know. I expect you could tell me a few great stories about my stepbrother here.”

Her suggestion would take the awkward level off the charts, and Josh wondered if Violet didn’t realize that, or simply didn’t care.

“You’re sweet to offer, Violet, but I’m sure Hailey can take perfect care of you.”

“See you at lunch, then,” Josh said with tightly forced cheer. Violet would have a long list of questions, surely none of which he knew how to answer quite yet.

“Bye.” Violet took one last look at them as she started on the path that led back to town. “You. Two. In college. Wow.”

Josh heard Jean push out a breath just as he released his own exhale once she was out of sight. “Wow indeed.” He took a step toward Jean. “I mean it, though. We’re only here until tomorrow afternoon. You’ve got to let me meet him.”

Jean leaned against the gazebo. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think it’s best if he meets you without knowing who you are just yet. He needs time to adjust to the situation. I can barely handle it as it is, much less find the right way to explain it to him on short notice.” She looked up at him. “Can you handle that? Meeting him first as Josh Tyler, brother of the bride, instead of Long-Lost Dad?”

Long-Lost Dad. Words Josh still couldn’t believe applied to him. The list of ways he felt unready to be a father could fill a phone book at the moment. He ran his hand down his face. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But how do I...speak to him? Or him to me?”

“The same way lots of people do—through me.” She waved her hand in a silent “hello.”

“And some things are universal. A smile, a wave, a handshake—” she brightened with a sudden idea “—or a milkshake. Why don’t you meet us at Marvin’s ice-cream parlor at two thirty?”

“I can do that.” He couldn’t not do that—no way was he leaving Matrimony Valley without meeting Jonah, even if it had to be under forced and not-entirely-forthright circumstances.

“Do you want to tell Violet about Jonah?”

“No. Not yet. Not until I have my head around this. I’m hoping there’s a way to not let the wedding get all weird because of this.”

Jean gave a tense laugh. “I know this is hard. For both of us. But I’d like to think we can avoid messing this up for Violet. Or for anyone. Violet’s wedding needs to be perfect for a lot of reasons bigger than you and me and Jonah.”

“I get that.”

Her eyes met his. “I can’t believe I didn’t put this together earlier. She’d mentioned a brother Josh more than once, and I saw your name on a form somewhere. I remember thinking, ‘Isn’t that a funny coincidence?’ I never dreamed...”

“Me neither.”

“I know what Dad would say.” Her gaze cast back to the waterfall spilling behind them.

“What’s that?”

“That there are no coincidences. Only ways God surprises us.”

He hadn’t set foot in a church since Dad’s funeral—and it had felt cold and foreign that day, despite Violet’s very friendly congregation. “Well,” he replied, “count me surprised.”

* * *

Jean held tight to Jonah’s hand as they walked down the street. She squeezed his hand three times—their private signal for “I love you”—as they walked, and her heart pinched as her son gave three squeezes back. Her mind cast back to the final day Jonah came to visit Dad in the hospital, and how he kept squeezing his grandfather’s hand three times. The moment Dad wasn’t aware enough to squeeze in reply still ranked as one of the most heartbreaking moments in all of Dad’s passing. Tears stung her eyes just thinking about it now.

She tugged gently on Jonah’s hand to get his attention, then pointed to her friend Kelly Nelson’s Love in Bloom Flower Shop.

“Stop and see Lulu’s mom?” she signed to Jonah. She didn’t really need to settle any floral details for Violet’s wedding, but she needed to talk out what was happening with Kelly.

Jonah raised his eyebrows and made the sign for “cookie?” in reply.

Kelly often kept a stash of goodies for her daughter, Lulu, and Jonah to share at the shop. “Maybe one.” She held up a single finger as she led Josh toward the door.

“Hello, you two!” Kelly said, setting a vase on the counter. “Good timing—I just put a fresh pot of coffee on.” She looked down at Jonah, signing, “Lulu’s at a friend’s, but I still have cookies.”

Jonah’s head bobbed in a “yes” that needed no translation.

“Can we set out a few coloring pages with those, Kelly?” Jean asked. “I need to talk.”

Kelly raised a questioning eyebrow. “Oh. I see.” She waved Jean and Jonah toward her work area in the back of the shop. “Maybe I should get out my stash of chocolate croissants from the bakery? Has it been that kind of day already?” she called over her shoulder as she pulled out cookies, crayons and the stack of coloring books she always kept to keep customers’ children occupied. “Our first bride looks pretty happy to me. And that brother of hers—quite the handsome fellow.”

Everyone always noticed Josh. He effortlessly commanded a room back then, and it wasn’t any different now. “No croissants. I’d eat a dozen. But I won’t turn down coffee.” Best to just spit it out while Jonah was occupied. Jean slipped onto one of a pair of stools after settling Jonah at the end of a smaller table. “It’s actually the brother I need to talk about.”