Connie stared out the window， oblivious to the instructor.

I was her birth partner， and we were in the first of several birthing classes required by the hospital. Everyone except the earth mother-type instructor was at least 10 years younger than Connie， and I had another decade on all of them. Besides being older， we were the only pair of women， and Connie was the only Chinese person. We definitely stood out in our small Connecticut hospital. Earth mother had just posed a typical icebreaker question， and it was Connies turn to answer. It was clear she wasnt paying attention.

I caught Connies eye. “She wants to know your favorite ice cream flavor.” Connies face registered surprise that only I could detect. Shes supposed to teach us about having a baby. Why ask about my favorite ice cream？ Her expression asked.

Because everyones a little nervous here except for you， Id later explain， but in the moment， as earth mother wanted us to be， I rolled my eyes and jerked my head： “Just answer the stupid question.”

“Red bean，” she said to no one， and returned to the window. I smiled brightly at the blank white faces. “Chinese ice cream！” I explained.

Unlike most close friends， Connie and I dont talk much. It isnt the slight language barrier that weve long since overcome， its that we both like to be quiet. Five years before the birthing class， Connie and her fast-talking husband had just opened a restaurant near our condo. My husband， Charlie， also no slouch in the verbalization department， would order sushi and chat with Connies husband when picking up the order. But it was Connie who always answered the phone. Soon recognizing our number， shed chirp “Charlie！” into the phone， and in 10 minutes the order would be ready.

Occasionally I went along. While our husbands talked， Connie would act as hostess， take phone orders， waitress， make drinks， and work the drive-in window， and watch me sit silently. One Sunday she sat down across from me. She tilted her head a little， and said：“You are quiet. I am quiet. Our husbands， not so quiet.” There was a small smile. She touched my arm. And she was back to work. That declaration of friendship moved us to a place most friends take years to reach， if they get there at all.

Not many words have been spilled between us since then.

Connie at the drive-in window： “Hospital says I need a partner for birth classes.”

Me： “Meet you there？”

Me， as we timed labor pains： “You should teach me Chinese.”

Connie： “Huh？ Maybe. Someday.”

Connie on the phone from China， visiting her family with her newborn son： “Pregnant again. Unbelievable！”

Me： “Do we need to do classes again？”

Connie： “No. We know now. Go to the hospital. Have baby. Come home. Simple.”

Connie， six months later： “Babys early. Hes in NICU.”

Me： “On my way.”

Connie and I， side by side in the pristine， antiseptic NICU， watching the tiniest boy in the world， his little chest rising and falling. Saying nothing.

Her boys， now 5 and 6， spend most Fridays with Charlie and me. Connie has left her talkative husband and works two full-time jobs to “give the boys a good life.” No whining. No complaints. A full-time mother， she checks homework， drives them to karate， takes them to New York at Christmas to see the tree. I worry she has no life， that shes exhausted.

“Dont worry，” Connie says. “Im OK.”

Shes my hero. The strong， silent type. Even if she hasnt taught me Chinese. After all， quiet sounds the same in both languages.

康妮凝視著窗外，沒有注意到講師。

我是她的生產搭檔，醫(yī)院要求我們上幾堂產前課程，這是我們的第一堂課。除了講師大媽外，其他人都至少比康妮小十歲，比我小二十歲。我們除了年紀比較大之外，還是唯一一對女性搭檔，而康妮是唯一一個中國人。在我們所在的康涅狄格小醫(yī)院里，我們無疑很引人注目。講師大媽剛剛問了個讓大家互相熟悉的典型問題，輪到康妮回答了。顯然，她沒有認真聽。

我看著康妮的眼睛。“她想知道你最喜歡的雪糕口味。”康妮的臉上露出了只有我才察覺得到的驚訝。她應該教我們怎么生產。為什么要問我最喜歡的雪糕口味？她的表情發(fā)出這樣的疑問。

因為這里的每個人都有點兒緊張，除了你，我之后會這樣解釋，但在當下，由于講師大媽希望我們那樣做，我翻個白眼，扭頭道：“回答那個蠢問題就好?！?/p>

“紅豆，”她朝著空氣說道，又轉頭看向窗戶。我對著一頭霧水的其他人露出一個明亮的笑容?！爸袊难└?！”我解釋道。

與許多親密的朋友不同，我和康妮之間的交流并不多。這并不是因為小小的語言障礙，這一點我們早已克服，而是因為我們兩個都不怎么喜歡說話。在參加產前課程的五年前，康妮和她那嘴快的丈夫在我們公寓附近開了一家餐館。我那同樣愛說話的丈夫查理會在打電話點壽司時和康妮的丈夫聊天。但通常接電話的人都是康妮。很快，她就認得我們的號碼了，這時她會對著電話大叫一聲“查理”，而在十分鐘后，我們的訂餐就會準備好。

我偶爾也會過去。當我們的丈夫在聊天時，康妮就會又當老板娘又當服務生、還要接電話、弄飲料、在窗口服務不下車的客人，以及看著在一旁靜坐的我。一個星期天，她在我對面坐了下來。她微微側頭，說：“你很安靜。我也很安靜。我們丈夫，不太安靜?！彼⑽⒁恍Γ雠鑫业氖直?，便回去工作了。我們建立的友誼是很多朋友要花費數(shù)年才能培養(yǎng)出來的，要是他們真能結成這樣的友誼。

那之后，我們也沒說過太多的話。

康妮站在服務不下車的客人的窗口旁：“醫(yī)院說我需要一個產前課程的搭檔?！?/p>

我說：“那在醫(yī)院見？”

當我們計算產前陣痛的時間時，我說：“你應該教我中文?！?/p>

康妮說：“哼？也許，有一天吧?！?/p>

康妮帶著她剛出生的兒子回中國探望她的家人，她打電話過來跟我說：“我又懷孕了。真不敢相信！”

我說：“我們要再參加產前課程嗎？”

康妮說：“不需要了。我們現(xiàn)在已經(jīng)知道該怎么做。去醫(yī)院。生孩子。回家。很簡單。”

六個月后，康妮說：“孩子早產了，正在新生兒重癥監(jiān)護病房。”

我說：“我現(xiàn)在過來?！?/p>

我和康妮肩并肩地站在潔白無菌的新生兒重癥監(jiān)護病房里，看著這個小小的男孩，他那小小的胸膛一起一伏的。我們什么話也沒有說。

她的兩個兒子現(xiàn)在分別五歲和六歲了，他們經(jīng)常會跟我和查理共度星期五。康妮離開了她那個健談的丈夫，為了“讓兩個兒子過上好生活”，現(xiàn)在干著兩份全職工作。沒有發(fā)牢騷。沒有抱怨。作為一個全職媽媽，她會檢查孩子的作業(yè)，開車送他們去上空手道培訓班，在圣誕節(jié)時帶他們去紐約看圣誕樹。我擔心她沒有個人生活，太過勞累。

“不要擔心，”康妮說。“我沒事。”

她是我的英雄。堅強沉默的英雄。盡管她沒有教我中文。畢竟，沉默在兩種語言里都是一樣的。