Love for Two

Everything He Wouldn't Say

If Francis was honest, and he tried to be, he never missed using his ability speak (you can't miss what you never truly had). His husband and kids knew sign language so what did it matter? He could hear and knew English and French so did it matter? No, he supposed it didn't matter.

When Francis stopped speaking he was seventeen and his mother had just died, she was a kind soul (she still is). She was a short woman who had long silver hair, she was elderly, Francis remembered. And her blue eyes always shone with pride. He missed her. 

Francis felt his confidence get torn away after her death. So, he became silent, his refusal to talk and sing angered many. "I know you can speak! Why don't you?" They'd say. They didn't get it, they didn't know the relief that came with being silent. He often signed this to them and they responded with, "you're a child. You'll change your mind when you grow up." They sounded condescending. They were condescending. 

Francis went to college. He studied animal sciences. He kept up with his future husband throughout college and worked hard. Francis graduated silent and without family. Nobody wanted to be around a mute relative Francis rationalized.

Francis worked at a veterinary clinic, he did clean up and took care of the animals being boarded (nothing that required talking or complicated sign language). The clinic knew his story and they all adored him.

Francis adored his children. His sons, Alfred and Matthew, were in kindergarten. They signed 'goodbye papa' everyday when he dropped them off. They defended their silent papa from the judgement of other parents and children. Francis' husband, Arthur, was convinced his sons would change lives (and they did). 

The silence became deafening some days when he was off work and his kids were away and Arthur was at work. The silence forbade him from telling Arthur he loved him, at least, with words. Francis, however, became a believer in actions.

If Francis was honest, and he tried to be, he missed his father. His father had been a cruel man after his mother died. Francis went silent and his father went ballistic (everyone deals with grief differently). The man became an alcoholic and the bane of Francis' existence. His father is no longer important to our story.

"Come talk." Arthur said. It was Tuesday and he was trying his best not to seem irritated. 

Francis said nothing, only blinked owlishly and in confusion. 

"The children are at my parents place. Come talk." Arthur missed Francis' voice, they'd been friends since they were in high school. Arthur wasn't sure he knew what his husbands voice sounded like anymore. 

It made him irrefutably sad. 

Francis signed 'I can't use my words' and smiled sadly. 

Arthur left. 

The clinic workers never tried to make Francis talk. He trusted them. There was a young man who also knew sign language, he was deaf.  They worked together when something required two people. The man's name is Kiku. They worked in perfect silence, it felt like a dance to them. Moving around each and signing things in sync. Francis trusted Kiku. 

Francis could sing. Or at least he did before he went silent. He had a surprising bass voice that overtook everyone and captured people's attention. It was bewitching in all honesty. Before he went silent, Francis had wanted to study music. His silence cost him a lot of dreams. He tried not to think about that. Francis hardly remembered his teenage dreams now.

"Come talk." Arthur said. It could've been a Tuesday but it felt like a Thursday to Francis. Arthur wanted his lover to speak again.

Francis didn't even sign a response.

"Fran, don't shut me out." Arthur tried using guilt. Arthur never mean to guilt or harm his husband, he just felt like he was missing something since the silence overtook their lives.

Francis felt no remorse for shutting out Arthur, though, he wasn't shutting anyone out if he never spoke. Guilting him felt like a low blow because it was.

Arthur taught Francis to ride a motorcycle on the weekends. Arthur felt like Francis might be better at riding a motorcycle than he was at driving a car. Arthur was right for a split second and it gave him pride. Arthur was a shitty teacher and Francis was a shitty leaner but that didn't stop the oddball couple.

Francis wrecked the motorcycle. He wished he could take back the time learning as if that could prevent several broken ribs and a minor concussion. Arthur and the kids came to see him often. They told stories of home and the family cat. Francis loved it when they visited but never remembered when they left. 

Francis left the hospital only to shut himself in his and Arthur's room. 

"He needs time." People offering condolences said. 

They acted like Francis was dead and he felt dead. 

Everyone tiptoed around Francis now, his silence hadn't been enough. Francis wasn't dead and he wanted everyone leave him alone, he wanted his family in a cocoon of silence and safety. 

His little boys grew up. 

Alfred and Matthew started high school and Alfred started getting into fist fights for his family's honor. Matthew went blind after a car accident but the wheels of life kept spinning. Nobody stopped life for the Bonnefoy-Kirkland's. Matthew never complained about his sight and they didn't talk about Alfred's fights and Francis never spoke. 

Nevertheless, Francis was content with his little and broken family.