Matzah Ball Surprise

by Laura Brown

  He shook his head as he read and responded.

  Levi: I’m just the random Deaf guy you started fake dating. If I mix up who’s an uncle or cousin, that’s on me and doesn’t affect your mission. What do you need?

  Gaby paused with her phone in her hands, giving his question serious thought, not missing the fact that for years she’d had anxiety over heading home, and it had little to do with her extended family.

  Gaby: Honestly? I need a buffer with my mom. I mean, the family is quirky, and my cousin Charlie got into a bit of a situation at this very rest stop as a teen, but mom’s my concern.

  God, she hated to type it—hated it more that she felt it. But the truth was her mother never understood Gaby’s need to keep things the same, to preserve the memory of her father. Or maybe Gaby just had no ability to handle her mother’s grieving process.

  Bad daughter, table for one.

  Levi: Then I’ll be your buffer. Are we talking bodyguard stance or redirecting the conversation? Fair warning, the first is easier than the second.

  She laughed and realized how needed that was as it pushed the wetness in her eyes away.

  Gaby: Just being there will help.

  He gave her a wink, similar to the first day they met, and it still wasn’t negative. In fact, it lured her forward. Magical powered winks, that’s what they were.

  Levi: So tell me about this rest stop incident?

  Gaby bumped Levi’s shoulder with hers but went ahead and typed a response.

  Gaby: Let’s just say that the family restroom is not the ideal place to lose one’s virginity.

  Levi’s face scrunched in disgust, and Gaby remembered the screaming scared laughs she’d shared with her cousins after the reveal of that particular bombshell.

  Gaby: What about your family? I’m sure you’ve got some story to top Charlie’s rest stop virginity.

  Levi shook his head, and some of her happiness nosedived.

  Levi: Just your typical boring family, nothing to share there.

  She called bullshit. Every family had at least one story or one family member worthy of the story. She’d shared a lot about her own family with him, was taking him to meet them, and yet he didn’t give her a crumb about his life.

  Gaby: Not one?

  He shrugged, but his jaw ticked as though he held his teeth together tighter than necessary.

  Levi: We should probably get going, so I can act as a buffer with your mother.

  She forced a smile onto her face and told herself not to let this bother her. After all, he was her fake date for the weekend, nothing more.

  Though, for a brief moment there, it felt like at least a friendship could be brewing. She ignored her circling thoughts as Levi eased the car back onto the highway. All that mattered was fooling her family.

  …

  Levi followed the GPS’s direction and exited the highway to what appeared to be the proverbial white-picket-fence neighborhood or the land of the Stepford Wives; he’d have to see the actual inhabitants to decide. But if Gaby was representative of them, then all would be fine.

  Beside him, Gaby took in the area, studying each point as if it had been a while since she’d seen it. He knew the feeling. Every time he ventured back to Maine, someone had changed a house siding, or re-landscaped, or let the exterior fall apart. The latter kind of disrepair didn’t seem to exist in this town, but he related all the same.

  Gaby touched his arm before pointing to a light-green split-level with a large oak tree in the front yard. He pulled into the drive and killed the engine. His legs begged to be stretched after three hours in the car, but he wasn’t ready to smile and nod in lack of communication just yet.

  “Ready?” he signed to Gaby.

  She bit her lip, and again he wondered how she’d taste if he meshed his mouth to hers. “N-O. No.” So she signed twenty instead of no, but he got her point. And he should correct her, but those amber eyes had him spellbound. She didn’t want to go in, and he bet it had little to do with his presence. He pulled out his phone.

  Levi: What’s wrong?

  After she read, her head shot up to face him, surprise etched across her features. Yeah, he didn’t know why he could read her so well already, either.

  Gaby: I’m afraid of what’s been changed.

  Levi: Your bedroom turned into a library type thing?

  Gaby: No. My bedroom is untouched, probably dusty. It’s the rest of the house. Ever since my dad died, Mom’s been changing things, and all I want is to return to the place where he once lived.

  Levi’s gut clenched, and he made a mental note to actually visit his family the next time he could. Once the shit storm with Monica cleared.

  Levi: I’m sorry. How long has he been gone?

  Gaby: Eight years. I know. I need to move on and let my mother move on. That’s why I relocated, so she could do that. And we should get inside before she starts wondering about us.

  He grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes. Wanting to say so much but not willing to let her go. With his free hand, he brushed her cheek, her smooth warmth doing funny things to his stomach. Her pupils dilated, and he’d bet he could kiss her. But unless her mother spied on them, kissing wasn’t part of the plan.

  If it could be part of the plan at all.

  And he realized they hadn’t covered the PDA aspect of their fake relationship.

  Levi: In the interest of us succeeding, would it be okay if I kissed you?

  Her gaze shot up to meet his after reading his text, and he feared he’d completely misread her and the situation. He quickly gathered his phone.

  Levi: If that’s not something you feel is needed, that’s fine. I wanted to check ahead of time. The call is yours.

  Her cheeks sported pink spots when he looked up from his phone again, and while she typed her response, he caught the pulse point in her neck, the one that said maybe she liked his suggestion. And maybe he liked that reaction more than he should.

  Gaby: A kiss would probably help.

  He nodded, his body already plotting and planning to find a moment and capture those lips of hers, especially the bottom one she’d dented with her top teeth.

  Levi: I’ll squeeze your arm twice if I plan to kiss you, that way you can redirect me as needed.

  Please don’t redirect me.

  Gaby: Works for me.

  He studied her, those calm words coming through in contrast to the still-dented lip and enlarged pupils. He wanted to lean in, find someone looking out the window, and squeeze her arm twice. He wanted to sink his lips into hers and find out her taste and texture.

  With great reluctance, he pulled back and thumbed toward the house. Gaby sucked in a breath that did nothing to diminish his growing attraction to her and nodded. Hell of a time to be turned on.

  The cool air settled his rising lust, and he collected their bags from the back seat as Gaby walked up the porch steps. Her shoulders rose and fell while she stood at the door, waiting for him, the wind rustling her hair. He wanted to massage those tight shoulders, relax her, and he needed to get out of his own head to be the buffer Gaby needed.

  Levi glanced down just in time to stop from stepping in dog poop. He quickly realigned his step and then glanced around. No other signs of a dog from this yard, or any of the neighbors. Did Gaby’s mom have a dog? She hadn’t mentioned it.

  Gaby remained on the steps when he joined her, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to give her a reassuring squeeze. Without looking at him, she placed her hand on his, a thank-you gesture if he ever felt one. Then she opened the door. Only, her mother had already arrived on the other side, an older version of Gaby, mouth moving like her daughter. Her gaze caught his, and she waved awkwardly. He shot a glance to Gaby, wondering if she had shared his deafness.

  Gaby pointed to the woman. “Mother.”

 
So she signed father, but he’d work with her on it later.

  He waved and then shook the woman’s hand, realizing he didn’t even know her first name. She pulled a piece of paper out from her back pocket and handed it to him. He accepted it, wondering if any of Gaby’s concerns were about to make sense.

  Nice to meet you. I’m sorry I don’t know ASL, but I’m happy you’re here.

  He nodded his thanks and folded the paper back up. So Gaby had shared about his deafness. He hadn’t expected any accommodations on this trip—he was a prop after all—but that both women went out of their way to attempt to include him said something about the sort of people they were.

  They began talking to each other, and he hung back, keeping a pleasant smile on his face. Gaby’s mother kept glancing at him with the worried, how-do-I-communicate glance, and he waved her off. He’d agreed to come and help Gaby.

  But standing there, completely lost, as the women chatted with very little body movement or even facial expressions, left him in the cold dark. He kept the smile on his face, but it already felt like he was forcing it, and he hadn’t even been there a full five minutes yet.

  He hadn’t realized until that very moment just how long these next two days would be.

  …

  Gaby hung her coat up on the landing hooks of the split-level entryway and turned to get Levi’s, when something scurried into her line of sight, sat on her foot, and barked. An Italian greyhound? The dog pushed its head against her thigh, nuzzling as if they were long lost siblings.

  “Mom?” Gaby began, weighing her words carefully. “Whose dog is this?”

  The fine-boned little creature barked again and put its paws up on Gaby’s thighs. She pushed it off her, and its attention shifted to Levi, who rubbed the dog’s belly until it lay sprawled in a boneless heap.

  “He’s mine,” her mother said, smiling at the tongue-lolling dog. “I adopted Bengi last month.”

  Gaby put her hands on the sides of her head. “You adopted a dog. Last month. And didn’t tell me?”

  Levi glanced over, but she had no idea how to describe this situation in even a few texts. She’d need a book. Or she could just toss this under the heading of “every time she returned home there was a new surprise.” Current surprise innocently licked her shoe.

  “I wanted to surprise you.” Her mother squatted, and the dog bounded over to her, licking her face.

  “Okay, then, you have a dog.” Gaby tried to take a deep, calming breath but couldn’t. And now she needed to make sure Levi wasn’t allergic, even if the fact he’d already played with the dog suggested he’d be fine. “I’m going to show Levi the guest room.”

  Her mother stood. “Oh, hush. I’m not so naive as to not know what happens when two people date. Besides, your aunt isn’t feeling comfortable driving at night, so she’s staying there.”

  Crap. Gaby tried to think of a way out of this one but came up blank and covered in dog drool. The placement of rooms in the house meant if Levi slept anywhere else but her room, it would be obvious they were separated, and her mom would wonder why. That was the reason she never snuck out as a kid, at least not successfully. The woman was just too perceptive.

  Gaby needed a few minutes with Levi alone. “Okay, Mom.” She nodded toward the stairs, and Levi followed, carrying their bags, with the dog—er, Bengi close on his heels.

  Her mother had adopted a dog. What other surprises were in store for her this Passover?

  Chapter Seven

  Levi followed Gaby up the stairs and down the hall, too focused on her tight shoulders and stiff movements to notice anything else about his surroundings. Something had happened, and he had a feeling the dog head-butting the back of his knees had to do with at least part of it. He wanted to reach out and relax Gaby, find out what was wrong and then fix it.

  Normal behavior for him, not-normal emotional need.

  She turned and pulled him into a room then closed the door on the dog’s eager attempt to join them. He had planned on taking Gaby’s shoulders into his hands, massaging out whatever got into her, but forgot his ambitions when the bright and colorful room came into view. The room felt like Gaby.

  Rock star posters hung on the wall next to a corkboard filled with pictures of high school aged kids huddled together. A trophy sat on a dresser; for what, he couldn’t decipher. The place was filled with mismatched items of a youth finding their footing in the world. Gaby might have felt the changes in the rest of the home, but this room was a time capsule.

  Which meant they were standing in Gaby’s room. He turned to find her head buried in her phone, thumbs flying over the screen. He pulled out his own phone to wait and realized she was on a roll—he already had two messages.

  Gaby: The dog is Bengi. I hope you aren’t allergic. This is the first I knew Mom even had a dog.

  Gaby: Typical of my mother. No warning, just boom, here’s a dog. We never had a dog. Dad was allergic. Izzy, my sister, always wanted one. Not me. I’m more of a maybe a cat or gerbil person. That’s it.

  Gaby: Oh god, you probably have pets of your own. I’m sorry. I’m frazzled. Why did I insist on coming the day before Passover? I didn’t mean to subject you to this mess.

  She was still typing, but Levi put down his phone, pried hers from her shaking hands, and pulled her into a hug. Gaby’s stiff shoulders solidified, but she didn’t fight or break free of his loose grip, so he held on, knowing on some instinctual level that she needed it.

  It took twelve beats of his fast pumping heart, but she relaxed, burying her head into his chest, breaths chaotic enough he feared tears would follow. He held her tighter, liking the way she fit in his arms. Liking more than he should the ability to do something for her.

  When she pulled back, she wiped her eyes, but they appeared dry, and so was his shirt. She gave him a shaky smile. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He picked up his phone.

  Levi: No apologies necessary. Family stirs the shit sometimes. No, I’m not allergic. No, I don’t have any pets. What’s your mother’s name?

  Gaby held up her hands instead of texting, surprising him. “A-N-N-E.”

  He nodded, and she went back to typing.

  Gaby: Next problem is Mom insists we sleep here, together. I tried to get you into the guest room, but my aunt will be staying there, and Mom will suspect things if you use the couch or something.

  He glanced around the room. Only a spare chair in the corner for other potential places to sleep, but he could camp out on the floor for two nights.

  Levi: No problem. We’ll figure something out.

  Gaby nodded and put her phone away. She stood awkwardly, as if she didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help her there; he was the guest, after all. She pointed to herself then the hall and walked out, leaving the door open behind her.

  He didn’t know if he should follow or not, but there wasn’t much for him to do here. He stepped into the hall, noticing pictures of Gaby and her sister over the years, a family of four and then a family of three. He caught a diploma for accounting that had to be her father’s, and below that, Gaby’s diploma, for the same career. His chest tightened at how simple and obvious the loss was, and how he’d taken for granted his own family. He pulled out his phone and sent them a group text. He wanted to type more, explain where he was. But Monica had his hands tied, and not in a kinky, good way.

  Levi: Sorry I couldn’t be there for Passover. Chag Sameach.

  To his surprise, his phone vibrated a few seconds later with a response from his brother.

  Manny: Chag Sameach! Strange to have Monica here and not you.

  They hadn’t dated that long. Surely someone had paid enough attention to know they weren’t destined to stick. But if his little brother didn’t, then no one did. Another part of the reason he wasn’t there—he couldn’t lie to them anymore, and Monica wasn’t ready to re
veal their breakup.

  Levi: Life happens.

  Of course, his brother probably pictured him at home, working on grading papers, not standing in a hallway surrounded by pictures of his fake girlfriend’s family.

  Manny: You sure you can’t sneak away? You could be Elijah coming for his wine. I’ll pull out a seat for you.

  He smiled. Elijah was a prophet foretold to one day join in on the Passover Seders.

  Levi: So we’re playing musical chairs now?

  Manny: Got the bass cranked up high enough for you, brother. We take away a seat for each of the plagues.

  Levi: Loud enough the wine vibrates?

  Manny: I grew up with a Deaf older brother. That’s the only way to listen.

  Manny: Miss you.

  What was Monica saying that his brother turned on the feelings?

  Levi: Miss you, too. Everything okay?

  Manny: Fine. Good health. Hard to practice my ASL when you don’t even video call.

  Levi: Next time I’ll video chat and put up with your face.

  Manny: I’m practicing the one eyebrow thing. You can grade me, oh teacher.

  Levi: Deal.

  He returned the phone to his back pocket, warm familial feelings stirring inside. He wanted that chat, and worried Monica would force him to push it off. He’d check in with her, but later. For now, he ventured out to help Gaby in any way he could.

  …

  Gaby held one end of the large dining room table, trying to figure out how she was supposed to communicate with Levi at the other end. Both their hands were busy with the table, but there was a bit of a trick to separating the ends to add the insert, sort of a pull-push-angle-pull type of thing.

  He watched her, those biceps not struggling at all with the heavy wood. She really needed him to do the tricky maneuvering, as her own biceps were screaming, “You hate us!” Best to get it over with. She gave him a nod, and he started pulling, much faster than when she did this with her mom or Izzy. She quickly tried to adjust for the trick, but he pulled with enough force that her sudden pushing meant the table scooted down a foot and retained its smaller size.