She turned to look at him and stuck up her middle finger.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I know that one real good,” he said. She smiled, only lifting one corner of her mouth. “She smiles. God must want a nigga to sleep good tonight, He blessed me with that visual.”

“What do you want?” she signed, her hands flying fast in frustration.

“You got to slow that shit down for me, Mo. My teacher is YouTube. Do it again,” he said.

She signed, again, and she was surprised when he answered, “I just wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

She was astounded that he had taken the time to learn. She was sure he wasn’t fluent, but the effort was nice.

“You can hear me. That’s dope, Mo. I’m happy for you,” he continued. He was rough with women. He rarely catered to their feelings, so he didn’t know how to do this caring thing. All he had known them to be good for was pleasure. He didn’t have a mother’s love to shape the way he viewed women. All he knew was desertion, so he never let himself get close enough to care. If his mother had left him, all women eventually would too. To avoid reliving that feeling of inadequacy and the sting of abandonment, he never let a woman get close. When he felt Morgan shocking the dead battery inside his chest, trying to power on his heart, he did the most hurtful thing he could do to make her lose interest. He knew he had fucked up by allowing Nish to put out the perception that they were more than they were. He could feel the shift in his connection with Morgan. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would miss it. She didn’t look at him the same. Her gaze was no longer given in adoration, but in contempt. He had witnessed her disappointment in him; first, at the hibachi spot and again tonight. He couldn’t have that. Like Ricky, he had some ‘splaining to do. “So, why won’t you speak?” he asked.

Morgan looked down at her hands and twirled the rings on her fingers around.

“You’re afraid of what you might sound like?” Messiah guessed. “Well, I got to say, if you sound fucked up it’s only fair. God got to give you some type of flaw. You probably got a big, manly voice. An ol’ Beyoncé-bass-sounding-ass voice.”

She smiled, and he wondered where this light-hearted side of himself had come from. He wasn’t the wisecracking type, but he would do anything to break this ice with Morgan. Baby girl got me on freeze, he thought.