Chapter four
899 Words
I smile at the girl who hands me my coffee and move to a nearby table to take a seat. I look outside the window and notice the people walking by. Every once in a while I come out of the penthouse.
It’s not like I cannot, I just don’t have anywhere to go. So whenever the penthouse gets too overwhelming for me, I go to a café or a diner to relax. This one is just a walking distance away.
Something falls at my feet and I turn to look at it. “Shit.”
A women curses and tries to juggle a few files and her laptop along with her coffee in her hands to pick up her notebook.
I quickly bend down and pick up the notebook. She smiles at me gratefully and tries holding her coffee in her other hand. I tap the table and gesture for her to keep it there.
“Sorry, just a second.” She places the coffee and the laptop on the table. She takes her notebook from my hand. ”I should’ve just brought my bag with me. Thank you.”
She goes to pick up her things again. I quickly unlock my phone to type and show it to her. ‘You can take this seat, I’ll be leaving in a few.’
She reads it and nods, “Okay, thank you.”
She sits down in front of me and licks her lips uneasily, “Do you have an infection or something in your throat?”
I laugh at her question and write my answer down, ‘No, I’m mute.’
She looks at it and her face lights up, “Are you fluent in sign language?”
I nod at her question, slightly surprised.
She grins and states, ”Me too. I learned it when I was a kid. I had a friend who was mute.”
A smile of my own takes over my face,” That’s great. I learned it when I was five.”
She nods and then frowns, ”Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Rachael.”
“I’m Celia.” I say shaking her hand.
“So what do you do Celia?” She opens her laptop and turns it on.
I take a sip of my coffee, “Nothing, I’m a housewife. I do have a degree in teaching though.”
She gasps, “No way!” She laughs with an amused face, “This can’t be a coincidence. What are the odds that I’m in a search of a teacher?”
I swallow and shrug, “I don’t have any experience.”
She waves me off, “It’s not required. I actually own an NGO and under that I have a small-scale school for the deaf and mutes, it’s all free but only for the people who couldn’t afford it. I have teachers to actually teach them the subjects but they have commitments elsewhere and they cannot give more time to me. The parents work and it’s really important for them to earn however much they can. So, I take care of the kids until six. I have volunteers to take care of things but it would be amazing if I have a teacher to take up some extra revision or just having fun with them.”
“The kids, all of them are deaf or mute?” I ask thoughtfully.
She nods and bites her lip, “Look, I am ready to pay more than the minimum. It’s just that I don’t really have the time to search up a teacher this quick and I cannot disappoint the parents. Just 6 hours, how does that sound? 11 to 5 pm, please.” She removes a card from her file and passes it to me, “Here’s my card. Call me in the next two days if you wanna join. I really hope you do.”
I take the last sip of my coffee and tuck the card in my purse, “Thank you. I’ll let you know. It was nice meeting you Rachael.”
I throw the cup in the trashcan and make my way out of the café. I start walking to my apartment and think over the job offer, the accidental job offer. I’ve always wanted to help the others like me when I grow up. That is one of the reasons why I wanted to become a teacher. I’ve always wanted to work, earn my own money.
Sadly, that’s not how things took place.
It’s really revolting that I can’t do something I so passionately want to. I am ashamed of myself for living in this position. No scratch that, barely surviving. What is this life? A life where I have to beg my husband to let me work. And moreover, the fear of his reaction is another problem to tackle. If only, he was protective and not possessive.
He loves me, he says. But when will he make me feel it? All he ever gives me is pain, terror, tears and misery.
I wanted to say yes so badly, I want to go help those kids, take care of them, adore them. Give them the love I never received. But I don’t think Matthew would allow it, he never did.
My heart tells me to take the risk though, just one last time.
- Writer
