by K. M. Scott
I couldn’t bring myself to think about them enjoying my bed, but somewhere in the back of my mind a tiny, insidious voice whispered again and again, “They’re together.” I’d never been good at handling jealousy, and my paranoia about Nina sleeping with Varo quickly mushroomed in my brain, leaving me with the choice of blowing Daryl’s plan by storming over to the house to reunite with the woman I loved and in the process putting her in danger or getting stone drunk.
The half-inch of scotch left in the bottle sitting on the coffee table in front of me made my choice next to impossible. If I was going to get through that night, a trip to the liquor store was in order. All the better. I was already feeling trapped in my new place and looked forward to the half mile or so walk to get more of the only thing that was going to help me forget, at least for a few hours.
I set out on my quest for alcohol and met few people on my way, all of them shying away from me by refusing to make eye contact and one even crossing the street to get away from me. For a moment, I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered I didn’t look like Tristan Stone with my scruffy hair and overgrown beard. Never before in my life had I experienced people avoiding me because of my appearance. The tiny village of Millbrook, New York must have been used to a better class of person. I used to be that class, but as the gardener Ethan, I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb among Manhattanites visiting their country homes. It was eye-opening, to say the least.
The greasy-haired liquor store clerk gave me a similar reception when I walked into his store, watching me intently as I passed him on my way to the scotch aisle. I stood staring at the various bottles, my mind preoccupied with how differently I was treated looking like I did now. A little longer hair and a bad beard and suddenly I was persona non grata.
I felt a tug on my sleeve and turned to see Nina standing there staring up at me. Immediately, I realized I wasn’t wearing my sunglasses. My hair hung in my eyes, so I squinted at her, hoping to hide my eye color.
She smiled and waved at me, obviously remembering that I couldn’t hear or speak. I smiled a closed mouth smile back, afraid if I acted too much like myself that she’d figure out my ruse. She made a motion with her hands that looked like she was trying to ask if I drank, and I nodded. Hoping to deflect her attention from me, I signed Are you here to buy alcohol? She had no idea what I was asking and shaking her head, said sweetly, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”
I pointed at the bottles and then pointed at her as I repeated my question with my hands. My distraction seemed to work because she walked away, and for a moment I thought I was safe, but she returned a few seconds later with a bottle of hazelnut liqueur in one hand and a bottle of cheap vodka in the other. I recognized the liqueur bottle instantly as the same one the bartender at ETA had used that night when he made her the chocolate martini.
“I fell in love with this chocolate cake martini a while back and really wanted one tonight,” she explained as I smiled down at her and pretended not to understand what she meant, all the while loving the sound of her sweet voice again.
She sensed I didn’t understand and put the two bottles she was holding on the shelf next to her so she could take out a pen and paper. She scribbled a few words and held it up so I could read it.
Do you like scotch? My fiancé likes it too. I can’t drink it, though. Too hard. :(
God, she was sweet. How much I wanted to hold that beautiful face in my hands and tell her it was me standing in front of her instead of some guy who worked on her garden all day, seething with jealousy as he watched her be friendly to another man.
Thinking it might seem too obvious if Ethan liked scotch too, I shook my head and pointed at the American whiskey further down the aisle away from where I was standing. Then I took the pen from her hand and wrote I like whiskey instead, forgetting that I didn’t have gloves on. She could clearly see my hands and knew my handwriting from all my notes and letters.
Fearful I’d ruined Daryl’s plan, I dropped the pen onto the paper she held in her hand and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Thankfully, she was too busy reading what I’d written to notice that I was hiding my hands. She wrote something else and smiled up at me as I read her message.
It was nice seeing you here. Have a great night!
Before I could nod and hope she understood I wished her the same, I saw Varo come through the front door and march up behind her, his expression filled with protective concern.
“Nina, is everything okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I was just talking to Ethan. He’s the new gardener.”
Varo sized me up and quickly moved to guide Nina out of the store, but I was thrilled to see her fight him. A tiny flicker of joy crept into my heart as she pushed him away to be nice to someone she’d just met that day. She was still my Nina, the same old gentle soul she’d always been.
“Let’s go,” he insisted, again trying to direct her toward the register.
“Okay, let me say goodbye,” Nina answered in a tone I recognized immediately as her impatient voice.
Waving to me as she backed away, she smiled and nearly melted my heart. “See you.”
I nodded, remembering not to take my hands out of my pockets and to keep my eyes squinted, watching her walk away with the makings for her chocolate martini and Varo. Even after I couldn’t see her anymore, I stood there waiting to hear the jingle of bells on the door when she left, grabbing her note she’d placed on the shelf and a bottle of Lagavulin when the coast was clear and confusing the clerk when I paid with a couple fifties.
By the time I got back to what I was now calling home, I was sick of being judged by everyone I met and in need of a good stiff drink. Two glasses of scotch later, I sat back against my cheap couch and replayed my meeting with Nina at the liquor store, loving that of all the people I’d encountered that day, only she’d been truly kind to me.
As I nodded off to sleep, all I could hope for was that my time away from her wouldn’t last much longer. I didn’t want to be a stranger anymore.
Chapter Nine
Tristan
Over the next week, my contacts came in but I saw little of Nina. I tried to get a glimpse of her whenever I was close to the house, but she never seemed to be in any of the rooms I could see into. I saw Varo quite often, usually walking back to the carriage house or hanging out with West on the grounds near where he used to live. He paid little attention to me, which could have been attributed to either Daryl telling him about my real identity or his lack of interest in me since I was just a mute gardener.
I didn’t care which it was since a ball of hate for him inside me grew larger by the second. It was irrational and it didn’t matter. I hated him for being able to come and go in Nina’s life as he pleased while I stood there pretending to care about the shape of the fucking hedges on my property or how long the damn grass should be.
One sunny morning, eight days after our chance meeting at the liquor store, she came walking down the pathway to where I stood cleaning up weeds against the fence on the property line. I didn’t remember her ever coming out this way when we were together, but I was thrilled all the same. Any time I got to spend with her was better than any without her.
As I watched her make her way toward me, she waved and smiled broadly, looking truly happy to see me. I loved it, but then the fear that she’d found me out raced through my mind, and I stood frozen on the spot waiting to hear what she had to say.
She stopped in front of me and waved again as she said, “Hi!”
I smiled and waved back, putting down the weed whacker.
Then she spoke the sweetest words I’d heard in months. “I don’t know much sign language, but I’ve been reading up on it to learn some.” That she coupled that one sentence with an attempt to sign what she meant made me happier than I thought I could be still separated from her.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have stopped myself from smiling. Knowing I had to contain my joy at her kindness, I signed
back Thank you and then finger spelled M-i-s-s E-d-w-a-r-d-s.
Her eyes focused on my right hand as I spelled out her name, and she looked up at me with a quizzical look. Shaking her head, she said, “You’re too fast. What did you spell?”
I spelled out Miss Edwards slower this time, and she nodded her understanding. “Can you read lips?” she asked staring up at me with a look of hope in her eyes.
Wobbling my right hand to indicate I could read them a little, she finger spelled O-K with two letters, obviously thrilled that she knew how to do at least that correctly. She was too cute, but I still put up the OK sign nearly everyone in the world knew, making her blush at her mistake.
“Oh. I guess I should have known that.”
All I could do was smile at how adorable she was. But why did she bother to come all the way out here and why had she taken the time to learn some sign language?
We stood there looking at one another until I signed, Why did you come here to see me?
She recognized the why and the see me parts and an uneasy look crossed her face as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Signing the words with effort, she answered, I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted that day I met you.
I touched the tips of my fingers to the center of my forehead and pulled my hand forward and down into the letter Y to sign the question Why? as I shook my head to let her know she didn’t have to apologize.
Opening her mouth to speak, she shrugged instead. Looking back toward the house, she signed, How do you get here every day?
I pointed to my legs and smiled. In truth, I hadn’t walked as much in years as I did now. Not that I liked it. I’d have taken the Jag over my feet any day.
Signing, she asked, Do you live near here?
Again, I didn’t sign but pointed, this time toward the village that sat less than a mile from where we stood.
“Do you live in Millbrook? Have you ever had Tony’s pizza?” she asked, forgetting to sign in her excitement.
I pretended not to know what she’d just said, secretly thrilled that the idea of Millbrook immediately made her think of where she’d agreed to marry me. She finger spelled the name of our favorite restaurant and looked up at me in anticipation.
Nodding, I smiled and signed, Good.
I love their pizza! she signed with excitement, getting the finger spelling for pizza wrong, but it didn’t matter. I was in heaven just listening to her speak.
Unfortunately, Varo made his appearance right at that moment, interrupting what had been the best fifteen minutes in a long time. Just as he had at the liquor store, he marched up behind her, his brows knitted and his expression looking almost too protective as he informed her it was time to go. I enjoyed watching her brush him off with a quick “Okay” and loved that she didn’t make any effort to follow him, as he obviously wanted her to.
Needing to know how she felt about him, I probed with the question, Is that your fiancé?
She looked back in the direction of Varo and then focused on me. I watched as her eyes welled up with tears, and then she finger spelled, N-o. M-y f-i-a-n-c-é i-s T-r-i-s-t-a-n. She stopped signing and looked away to wipe a tear from her cheek, but quietly said, “I hope you get to meet him soon.”
I promise it won’t be long, Nina. I promise.
Obviously, Daryl hadn’t explained to her that she needed to pretend Varo was her man even at home. That she didn’t pretend here made me feel better. I still didn’t like Daryl’s plan, but Nina’s willingness to share the identity of her fiancé with me, someone she barely knew and merely worked for her, told me my fears about her with anyone else were based in my stupid jealousy and nothing more.
She looked past me again toward the house and smiled. “This is a lot of property for just one gardener. Do you think I should hire someone to help you?”
As I shook my head to let her know I didn’t understand what she’d said, she stared up at me, as if she was studying my face for the real answer. Something told me she wasn’t sure about the man she’d hired to handle her gardening.
“Ethan, I just realized other than knowing you’re Ethan Cole, I don’t know anything else about you.”
Her tone possessed a sharp edge, but she didn’t sign her words. She was trying to catch me lying. Always my Nina, she hid a great brain behind those innocent blue eyes and gentle smile.
I shook my head and signed I don’t know what you’re saying to indicate I hadn’t been able to lip read her words, stifling my smile at her cleverness.
With great effort, she signed what she’d just said, and I signed in return, Ask me anything.
She signed How old are you? and looked more like Daryl tugging on his beard as he thought about some great question than making the sign to ask how old I was.
Before I could think about my answer, I signed the number 29 and my eyes grew wide at my slip up. I really should have been better at lying by now, but just being around her made all my defenses melt away. My age being the same as her fiancé’s didn’t seem to register with her, though, and she simply smiled.
Do you like gardening? she asked, fumbling over the sign for gardening and making it look more like a dog scratching for fleas than her fingers raking over her left palm.
I nodded, which was a complete lie. To be honest, I couldn’t wait for the moment I wasn’t Ethan Cole, mute and deaf gardener. Every night I waited for Daryl to call and let me know that he’d finally figured out the secret of what Karl wanted so I could finally return to my life as Tristan Stone and the woman I loved.
You’re doing a nice job, she continued, this time doing much better with her signing.
Thanking her, I added, And thank you for learning to sign. You’re very thoughtful.
In front of me, Varo stood about twenty yards away impatiently yelling Nina’s name. She didn’t even bother to turn around to answer him, preferring to stay facing me.
“Time for me to take the stage,” she said without signing.
Shaking my head, I shrugged to let her know I didn’t understand.
Smiling, she signed, It’s nothing. Just my pretend life. Nina turned to leave and stopped short to sign one more thing. Have a good day, E-t-h-a-n.
It wasn’t what she signed but that I got to hear her speak those sweet words, even if her voice was tinged with unhappiness. I hated knowing what I’d convinced her to do was making her miserable, but I had to tell myself that it was what had to be done.
That didn’t make it any better, though.
She walked away, her pace a little slower than when she’d approached me, I thought. My mind immediately began to spin out of control thinking about where they were going, what they’d be doing, and how I’d be standing there raking. Taking a deep breath, I told myself I couldn’t let that affect me. This was the way it had to be, and that was that.
By six o’clock, I hadn’t seen Nina or either of her bodyguards return home, so I left, needing a hot shower and something in my stomach. I had a newfound appreciation for the people who’d worked on my family’s properties. I’d always been so spoiled that I never once considered what their lives were like. Where did they live? Where did they eat lunch? What did they do when they weren’t landscaping the gardens or cleaning up after my family and me? My stint as Ethan the gardener had made all those people who’d been invisible to me for all those years suddenly come into sharp focus. To say that I didn’t like what I saw was an understatement.
It’s not that Nina or anyone at the house mistreated me. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nina was welcoming, and although Varo and West weren’t altogether friendly, they weren’t nasty or rude. I was, however, invisible there, for all practical purposes. Unlike in my life as Tristan Stone, no one wanted to spend time with me for meals or clamored to hear what I had to say about anything.
The change in my status was enlightening, to say the least.
Standing in the shower, I let the water sluice over me, loving the feel of its stinging heat on my skin. Working as a
gardener was much harder work than I’d ever believed, and my body already showed the signs of its effects. Muscles that had atrophied for months when I was in exile now grew again, the result of hours of manual labor. I hadn’t seen a gym in nearly half a year, but I couldn’t remember my body being in better shape. Those muscles didn’t come easily, though, and the hot water only did so much to ease the ache of my day job.
Scotch did the rest.
I relaxed on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table, groaning as I stretched the tired muscles in my legs. A slice of Tony’s pizza filled my stomach, and I washed it down with a gulp of scotch. Not exactly the right pairing, but I’d forgotten to ask for soda when I placed the order. It wouldn’t have been the same, anyway. Tony’s was great not because it was the best pizza in the world but because it symbolized something far better I shared only with Nina.
My phone vibrated across the top of the table, signaling I had a message. It was the one Nina used, and my heart leaped in my chest at the thought of what she might say. Scooping the phone up, I read her message and instantly felt like someone had my heart in a vice, turning the handle until there was nothing but the purest pain I’d ever experienced.
I miss you. I’ve taken to talking to almost complete strangers because I’m so lonely. Please come back to me.
Fuck. How was I supposed to keep this up? She was tearing me apart. All I wanted to do was text back that I wasn’t that far away. That I was as lonely as she was and missed her more than I could say.
Daryl’s telltale banging on my door shook me from my misery, and I trudged my aching feet and legs over to let him in, ready for him to add to my shitty moment.
“Nice to see you, Tristan. I hope you saved some of that drink for me,” he announced as he brushed past me to take a seat on the old chair that filled out the living room set he’d gotten me.
“Tell me you have something, Daryl. I can’t do this for much longer. Nina’s texts are killing me. She’s miserable, and I’m the reason she’s miserable.”