Chapter 1 - Table 7
"Table 7 is here."
Three words silenced the kitchen at Il Canto.
The chef stopped shouting.
A dishwasher stopped stacking plates.
Even Marco, the manager, lowered his voice.
"Who's taking it?"
Chloe Bennett reached for her tray.
"I am."
Marco stared at her.
"You worked eleven hours."
"I noticed."
"And Costello brought family tonight."
Chloe adjusted her apron.
"Family still eats."
Marco caught her arm.
"Chloe."
She looked at him.
"Don't be funny in there."
"I'm never funny."
"You're funny when you're nervous."
"Then pray I'm relaxed."
She pushed through the kitchen doors.
Behind the mahogany doors of the VIP room sat Gabriel Costello.
Six men in expensive suits surrounded him.
Gabriel occupied the head of the table without needing to announce that he was in charge.
Thirty-nine, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired, he had the exhausted expression of a man who trusted almost nobody.
Beside him sat an elderly woman.
She was tiny, white-haired, and wore pearls around her neck.
She was Gabriel's mother, Beatrice.
Chloe began pouring water.
"Shipment arrives at midnight," one man said.
Gabriel opened a folder.
"Any problems?"
"Union representative complained."
"And?"
"He stopped complaining."
Chloe kept moving.
Then Beatrice raised her hands.
Chloe nearly spilled the water.
It was ASL.
Beatrice signed, "Where is the bread?"
Gabriel was not looking.
Beatrice tapped the table.
Gabriel glanced over.
"Not now, Ma."
She signed again.
"I don't want bread now."
"I want wine."
"Bread's coming," Gabriel said.
Chloe stared at him.
He did not understand her.
He did not understand his own mother.
Dinner continued.
Beatrice tried again when Chloe collected the appetizers.
"I hate the veal."
"I want seafood risotto."
Gabriel sighed.
"Ma, please."
He turned toward Chloe.
"She'll have the veal."
Beatrice's hands dropped.
Something about the expression on her face hit Chloe harder than it should have.
Leo had worn that expression a thousand times.
Her younger brother had worn it at school, at restaurants, and at family gatherings.
He wore it whenever hearing people decided that explaining something was not worth the effort.
Leo had been deaf.
Chloe had learned ASL before she learned long division.
Then two years ago, a drunk driver killed him.
She had not signed since.
Not once.
Gabriel noticed her standing there.
"Is there a problem?"
Five men looked at her.
Chloe's heart pounded.
She had seventy dollars in her bank account.
Rent was due.
Every sensible instinct told her to walk away.
Instead, she put down the plates.
She stepped toward Beatrice.
Then Chloe raised her hands.
She signed, "Hello."
Beatrice's eyes widened.
Chloe signed, "My name is Chloe."
The older woman stared.
Chloe's fingers trembled.
"The veal really is terrible."
"You made the right choice."
Beatrice's mouth opened.
Then she smiled.
"You know sign language?"
"My brother was deaf."
A chair moved behind Chloe.
"What are you doing?"
Gabriel's voice cut across the room.
Chloe continued signing.
Beatrice answered quickly.
"Seafood risotto."
"And wine."
"Red."
Gabriel stood.
"I asked you a question."
His hand closed around Chloe's shoulder.
Chloe finally turned.
"She doesn't want veal."
Gabriel stared at her.
"She wants seafood risotto."
Silence filled the room.
"And she asked for wine twenty minutes ago."
"You kept ordering bread."
The men around the table stopped breathing.
Gabriel's expression hardened.
"You understood all of that?"
"Yes."
His grip remained on her shoulder.
Chloe looked down at it.
"If you're going to break my collarbone, could you wait until after I put her order in?"
"The kitchen closes soon."
One lieutenant almost laughed.
Beatrice slapped Gabriel's arm.
He released Chloe immediately.
His mother signed furiously.
Chloe watched.
Then she looked at Gabriel.
"She says your manners are atrocious."
Someone coughed.
Beatrice continued.
"And she wants you to stop treating her like she's stupid just because she's deaf."
Gabriel's face changed.
Only slightly.
But Chloe saw it.
He looked at his mother.
Beatrice looked away.
"Risotto," Gabriel said.
Chloe blinked.
"What?"
"Bring her the seafood risotto."
He glanced at his mother's empty glass.
"And Barolo."
Chloe signed the order to Beatrice.
The older woman's face brightened.
She caught Chloe's wrist.
"Thank you."
Then Beatrice added another sentence with a wicked little smile.
"My son is an idiot, but he tips well."
Chloe laughed.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed.
"What did she say?"
"Nothing."
"Translate."
Beatrice shook her head violently.
Chloe picked up the plates.
"Sorry."
"Confidential communication."
She walked out.
For the first time in years, someone at Gabriel Costello's table laughed.
It was Beatrice.
May you like
Gabriel sat motionless, staring at his mother's hands as if realizing they contained an entire world from which he had excluded himself.
