A Sweet Man

by Jaime Reese

  Gabriel nodded and typed out another few lines of text. You had mentioned it was easier for you than signing. And the big lettering does make it easier to read.

  Ben bit his lip and nodded. He ducked his head, trying to hide the sudden burn in his eyes. Most times, he was the one expected to adapt to his surroundings. He raised his head, reminded of Gabriel’s message, sobering at the thought of something that might upset him. What did you want to ask me? he typed out in his note.

  Gabriel’s mouth thinned to a line, he fidgeted with his phone for a few seconds before typing out another note. You mentioned it would be tough to hold the phone if we video chatted. But you could prop the phone on something to hold it steady while signing, so is there another reason?

  Ben looked away, hoping to hide his heated cheeks. He glanced up and over to the others sitting at a distance on the back porch, no one could hear Gabriel ask his question and no one would see Ben’s reply. Typing out each note on the app gave them more privacy, with the added bonus of the closeness from leaning in to read each other’s screens—close enough to feel Gabriel’s body heat and the occasional brush of their arms. He glanced over as Gabriel typed out another message.

  I know it upset you yesterday, Gabriel typed quickly, almost as fast as he signed. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

  This man had made an effort to understand him and make him feel comfortable. Ben couldn’t ask others to do that for him if he wasn’t willing to do the same in return. He hesitated for a moment, but then typed out another note before he had a chance to change his mind. I’m not as fluent in ASL as I’d like to be.

  Gabriel cocked his head as he silently stared at him for a few moments before he spoke. “I had a feeling you weren’t comfortable signing. I just wasn’t sure why.”

  The way Gabriel had slowed down his hand movements during the barbecue and the way he had segued into the topic of languages during their late-night chat should have clued Ben in that Gabriel had picked up on something. Ben ignored the second rush of heat to his cheeks, deciding to type rather than let his mind wander. My parents didn’t know I was deaf until I was about two. He dared a cautious peek up at Gabriel.

  “Don’t stop. I’m reading as you type,” Gabriel said as he pulled the chair closer.

  Closing the tiny gap between them settled his nerves. Ben nodded and continued typing out the scrolling note.

  My parents couldn’t afford the doctors and therapist, but they did the best they could. They taught me how to read lips. They used pictures and showed me how the mouth and tongue moved to pronounce the words. It’s not perfect, and I miss words that aren’t shaped by the way the mouth moves, but we practiced. A lot. My dad died when I was six and then it was just the three of us. It was hard but Mom kept teaching me on her own. She just wanted people to treat me like everyone else.

  He glanced over to Gabriel, wondering if he had lost interest along the way. Instead, he was met with warm brown eyes waiting for his next words to appear on the screen, so he continued typing.

  When Mom died, we had no other family. They had a tough time placing us together in a foster home, so my sister and I got split up. We lost touch with each other. I was placed with a few families, but it never lasted long. Most times, I felt like I was in this bubble, all alone. I went to a hearing school. I remember being the only deaf student at my middle and high schools. They could all hear, so they just assumed I could too. By that time, I was pretty good at reading lips, but it was still tough. I fell behind in class. I couldn’t follow the lectures when the teachers turned their backs to write on the board. I tried making friends. One on one worked sometimes but when people got together in groups, it was too tough trying to read everyone’s lips. And asking them to repeat themselves over and over got old really fast. I tried to fit in, but…

  He shook his head, shoving away the school memories. A hand to his forearm stopped him. He glanced up at Gabriel, reading his lips as he spoke.

  “But it was really hard,” Gabriel said, saying the words he hadn’t written.

  Ben nodded. Growing up, I didn’t know anyone else who was deaf. I didn’t even know there was a Deaf community until my senior year in high school. I just…

  He stopped typing. His hands were trembling. He exhaled a shaky breath and continued.

  Around middle school, I started learning sign language. It was a little tough to learn while moving from one foster home to another, but I read books at the library and watched videos online.

  He glanced up at Gabriel and gave him a small smile when those brown eyes met him, encouraging him to continue.

  I learned the signs for words. Phrases. I understand a lot of…pieces. I miss a few words if they aren’t common, so I fingerspell those. But having full conversations is a little tough and hard to follow. It’s as if…

  He bit the corner of his lip, trying to find the right way to write his thoughts. He huffed out a deep breath, finally giving up.

  I’m not as fluent as people think I am, and it frustrates me. He shrugged again and ducked his head. It’s why I was nervous about video chatting with you. You’re better at it than I am and you would have picked up on it.

  He communicated with Shaw, Julian, and Matt easily, but he wasn’t sure if that was because they signed slowly or that he likely focused more on reading their lips, using the signs to fill in words he might have missed. Gabriel and Natalie had a far better handle on the language. But that was likely because they had over two decades of practice with a grandfather who was deaf and chose ASL to communicate.

  “Just because you’re deaf doesn’t mean you automatically know ASL. Sign language is more than just knowing the words. Words and phrases are the pieces. It’s the grammar that connects things. And like any language, it requires practice,” Gabriel said, waiting for Ben to acknowledge his words with a nod. “I had a lot of practice signing with my grandfather. If you want, you can practice with me.”

  Ben chuckled at the funny twists of life. His hearing friend was more fluent in sign language than he was.

  It was just a thought, Gabriel typed out on his phone, finishing with a shrug.

  The words on Gabriel’s screen stole his breath. He quickly turned his head, not missing the sting of hurt in Gabriel’s expression before he quickly disguised it. Had Gabriel thought his chuckle was mocking?

  Ben vehemently shook his head and typed out a short note at lightning speed. YES.

  A slow smile climbed up Gabriel’s cheeks, revealing that hypnotic dimple. “Your note says yes but you’re shaking your head no.”

  Holding his phone up, Ben pointed to his screen again and nodded.

  Gabriel lowered his head to type out a note, still grinning as he tapped away at his phone. That means you’re going to have to video chat with me so we can sign.

  You might have to repeat stuff, Ben typed on the note.

  I won’t mind.

  Ben hid a smile as he typed out another message on his phone. I can be stubborn sometimes. I might need A LOT of extra hours of video chatting to practice.

  Gabriel threw his head back and laughed.

  Without thinking, Ben reached out and flattened his palm against the base of Gabriel’s throat. He closed his eyes, reveling in the vibrations against his skin. He could feel Gabriel’s laughter, the rich beat like the thumping bassline of music. But this was Gabriel’s song. And it was more beautiful and magical than Ben could have imagined.

  Ben’s eyes shot open when the vibrations faded and warmth covered his hand. His lips parted on a breath when Gabriel’s thumb brushed back and forth against his skin, the stroking touch causing a spark of heat to ripple up his arm.

  “I like your hands on me.”

  The breath pushed in and out through Ben’s parted lips as his gaze drifted from Gabriel’s mouth up toward his eyes. He stared, mesmerized by the heat sparking in their depths.

  That heat, like the song of Gabriel’s laughter, was for him.

  Gabriel closed h
is eyes, shattering the trance. A new, building vibration pulsed against Ben’s palm. He inhaled sharply, thankful he hadn’t missed feeling the growl in Gabriel’s throat—another beat from his song.

  Gabriel opened his eyes and looked to his side, over at the others sitting on the porch. He yelled something out to the group before returning his attention to Ben.

  “Food’s ready.”

  Ben slowly slid his hand from under Gabriel’s, instantly missing the warmth of Gabriel’s touch. He grabbed his phone and pushed it into his back pocket as he rose from his seat.

  The press of Gabriel’s hand at the small of his back startled him, but the shock was silenced by the thought barreling into his mind a split second later.

  I like your hands on me too.

  February

  Ben slid the next batch of trays into the oven and set the timer. After adding a sticky note with the shelf numbers next to the small dial, he placed the timer next to the others he kept sorted in a row. It was the only way he could keep track of the cooking times with the chaos.

  Neither he nor Natalie were prepared for the sheer pandemonium that erupted that morning. Calvin had sent an innocent text informing them he had mentioned the bakery to one of the meeting’s directors during their rental pickup that morning. They assumed that meant they might get a few more orders than usual. They hadn’t expected that same company’s director to contact them in a panic, requesting they be the last-minute catering replacement for the week-long meeting after their original caterer had unexpectedly canceled.

  With the excitement of the offer and promised spike in sales, Natalie had accepted. But the weight of rushing pastries to five hundred business executives wore her down. With all the ovens working at the same time while trying to manage the morning rush, it had only taken two pastry batches, a half dozen customers, and one phoned-in order to completely throw her off her game and send her into a tailspin.

  Natalie breezed by Ben and beelined toward one of the timers, the buzz likely having alerted her that another batch was ready. She was mumbling to herself and shaking her head, obviously frazzled. Ben reached out and stopped her once she set the tray on the cooling rack. She glanced up, the exhaustion clear in her expression.

  “I know I’m not supposed to have you on the register, but I don’t know what to do. I could really use your help,” she signed as she spoke. She turned to the side and walked over to another buzzer. Pulling out another set of trays from the oven and setting them on the rack.

  He couldn’t help her bake her specialty items. There were too many details only she knew. He glanced over to the front and saw the line building. He could help up front, but with his record, he couldn’t be on the register or handle money. He wouldn’t take the risk. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he shot a text to Gabriel, giving him a rundown and asking him to come by the bakery to help with the customers. If his dimple and smile couldn’t soothe the crowd, then nothing would.

  He typed out a note and then tapped Natalie’s shoulder. He turned the display toward her to read. I’ll help get their orders sorted, but you’re going to have to ring them up. Does that work?

  He walked toward the front the moment she nodded, leaving her in the back area as she pulled out another set of trays to cool. He tapped out a short note on his phone and turned the screen toward the first customer in line. The sheer rage in her eyes, her jabbing finger in the air, and her insistence on pointing to her watch made it crystal clear she was pissed about having to wait. He held up his phone to her more firmly so that she could read the text lines, asking her to point to the items and indicate how many she wanted of each with her fingers.

  She stared at him as if he had asked her to do some complex level of math calculation in her head or find a solution to world hunger. He sensed her response seconds before she started pointing at his face. Ignoring her ire, he plastered on his biggest smile and shook his head and pointed to his ear. He held his phone up again to the customer, reminding her of what he needed from her to move things along. He shoved the phone into his back pocket and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves. After sliding them on, he folded one of the boxes into shape and then grabbed one of the pastry tongs Natalie kept in the display, waiting for the customer to point to the treat she wanted.

  The other customers in line tried to calm her but the woman was outraged. He read her lips for a few words but switched off that part of his brain, refusing to allow her name-calling and curses to affect him. The woman suddenly stilled, as did the others in line. They stared off to the side, toward the back area. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Natalie mid-sentence, her posture rigid as she asked for the customers’ understanding and thanked them for their patience. But then she channeled her gaze to the woman at the head of the line.

  She thanked her for stopping by but respectfully asked her to leave the store.

  Ben took a slow deep breath to steady himself. He wasn’t used to people sticking up for him.

  The woman’s rage was a force to be reckoned with, but she was no match for Natalie and the del Toro stubbornness.

  Most of the customers were understanding, some were irritated. He tried as best he could, making a note of each customer’s items on a notepad to be rung up at the register. Natalie rang up the customer orders and glanced back over to the baking area. The line was building again, and it was obvious Natalie was getting stressed by the number of times she glanced back to the ovens.

  Barely fifteen minutes had passed. Yet it seemed like an eternity.

  Gabriel chose that precise moment to make his appearance. The instant he stepped inside the bakery, he scanned the room, assessing the situation. Even if he hadn’t revealed his time in service, his behavior the second he entered a room was a dead giveaway. Natalie sighed with her entire body when she spotted her brother. He stalked over to the register and spoke while signing. “I got here as fast as I could. What can I do?”

  Ben placed his hand on Natalie’s forearm to get her attention. “We’ve got this,” he signed. She squeezed his shoulder and darted to the back to tend to the ovens and pastries.

  He glanced up at Gabriel. “I’m not supposed to handle the money. I’ll get the orders ready and write down everything in the notebook so you can charge the items,” he signed, hoping he had signed everything correctly with his shaky hands. He ripped the two pages of orders he had ready and handed them to Gabriel.

  The second Gabriel flashed that smile and dimple to a customer, Ben’s knees weakened.

  As did those of every man and woman in that shop.

  Gabriel soothed the crowd with his charisma and charm, chatting with them and making them laugh with anything in his arsenal that lightened the mood. After having spent time together, Ben could differentiate Gabriel’s social smile from the private one. But even that knowledge couldn’t calm the tightness in his belly when one woman playfully touched Gabriel’s arm far longer than needed and two other people slipped casual notes into the front pocket of his T-shirt.

  After a lifetime of temporary, Ben wanted something permanent. And the more time he spent with Gabriel, the more he realized he wanted that with him.

  With the bulk of the line cleared, Ben worked with Natalie in the back, setting a new batch of pastries to cook while Gabriel managed the storefront. An hour later, Natalie closed the last of the large boxes while Ben cleaned up the tabletops and counters. A tap to his shoulder got his attention seconds before Natalie wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. After a few moments, she finally pulled away.

  “Thank you,” she signed as she spoke. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Hey,” Gabriel said, waving his hand in the air. “I helped too.”

  Ben chuckled as Natalie playfully rolled her eyes. “It was Ben’s idea to call you. So I stick to my original comment.” She spoke but thankfully also signed so Ben hadn’t missed the words when she looked at her brother.

  She walked up to Gabriel and slid her arms aro
und his midsection, snuggling in for a hug. Ben couldn’t figure out what she had said, but Gabriel’s responding, “You’re welcome,” made it clear.

  Gabriel’s brown gaze remained locked on Ben as he hugged his sister. From their chats, Ben knew Gabriel loved his sister dearly, and the thought that he had played a tiny role in bringing them together that morning made his pulse quicken.

  Ben stepped back, out of Natalie’s line of sight. “She’s going to need help with the delivery of all this stuff,” he signed. He didn’t bother being subtle with his suggestion.

  “Ya know,” Gabriel said, planting a kiss atop Natalie’s head. “I can help with the deliveries if you want.”

  Natalie instantly jerked back from the embrace with a huge grin on her face. She whipped her head to the side, giving Ben a dorky grin. “See? This is why Mom named him Gabriel. Because he’s an angel.” She got on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek, then hurried off to stack the boxes into a delivery bin for safe transport.

  That private smile climbed up Gabriel’s cheeks. Damn, that dimple made Ben’s stomach do cartwheels. Gabriel leisurely strolled toward him, every muscle in that big body flexing with each step. He casually reached into the small pocket of his T-shirt and pitched the pieces of paper into the trash bin without breaking his stride. His forearms flexed with the gesture and every neuron in Ben’s body sparked to life—at the display of muscles and at the meaning of the simple action.

  Gabriel hadn’t even bothered to peek at the papers—most likely with phone numbers on them—or save a single scrap.

  They had been tossed aside, not Ben.

  Standing in front of Ben, Gabriel pressed the tips of his fingers to his chin, then moved them out, pointing toward Ben to sign a thank-you.

  Ben glanced over to the garbage bin where Gabriel had dumped the scraps of paper before returning his attention back to Gabriel. He smiled, doing a tiny happy dance in his head.

  No, thank you.

  Ben’s jaw nearly cracked with the force of the yawn. The workweek had been brutal, especially with the additional hours added to his schedule. The big annual meeting for the finance company had concluded that Saturday afternoon and so had the chaos. After that first day and a half of frenzy, Natalie had found her stride and they had set a rhythm that allowed them to manage the store and successfully fulfill the contract for the rest of the week.