by Laura Brown
He nodded and collected his phone.
Levi: Hairy Nude Toy over there questioned our relationship.
Gaby’s cheeks pinked, and laugh lines creased around her eyes.
Gaby: Well, I think Uncle Hairy has been proved wrong and is now trying to one-up with his Nude Toy.
Levi scanned the crowd, and sure enough, Harry had his lips plastered to his date. Levi nearly groaned.
Levi: I hope we didn’t look like that.
Gaby cringed.
Gaby: I’m going to go with we didn’t, because, ew.
He grinned, tempted to kiss her again for the hell of it, but she collected her phone.
Gaby: I’m sorry, this has got to be so boring for you. If you want to escape, I can claim you’ve got work that needs to be done.
Nothing about that kiss was boring, but he knew that’s not what she meant.
Levi: I’m okay. I can sit here with my phone—no need to escape.
Or we could kiss again.
Gaby bit her lip, and he wondered if her thoughts matched his until she responded.
Gaby: I guess I didn’t fully realize how this would be for you. I’m sorry.
Levi: I agreed to this. This is a typical family event for me.
Granted, he now understood his family was much better at including him. He still felt left out, but someone would sign a few words, or write stuff down, or do a game of gesture. They also gave him his space to be on his phone, knowing he was cut off from their speaking. Once he no longer had to worry about Monica and the lies, he’d take a trip, make up for missing the Seder.
He realized he needed this, a taste of someone else’s family, to truly appreciate his own. It wasn’t perfect, would never be perfect, but their hearts were in the right place. As was Gaby’s.
Gaby: I know I can’t really communicate, but if you ever need a flip of this situation, let me know. I’ll owe you.
Levi: Only if we pull this off.
Gaby stood next to him, facing her family.
Gaby: Most of them just need a breathing person, and they’ll be fine. My aunt, the one with red hair, is the one to look out for. She’ll question you at some point if she hasn’t already. Sorry in advance for that. The rest…pretend you can take care of me one day, and they’ll think I won the lottery.
Levi: I could, but that’s not what you want.
She stared at him, eyes wide, and he wanted to lean in, claim her lips. One taste wasn’t enough.
Gaby: You’re right. I’d like to take care of myself. Mom had to find a job when Dad died, and she hadn’t worked since I was born. Proved to me that life doesn’t always come with happy endings. We need to be prepared to care for ourselves.
He got that, more than he should. He didn’t want to be an invalid disabled person relying on his family. He’d worked hard to make something of himself and make life better for others in his community. But there lay pain behind her words. Desire to be independent or not, her father’s death had spurred her on to this revelation.
He tipped her chin up, needing to soothe, to connect with more than the words they shared on their phones. She inched closer to him, eyes flittering to his lips, and he wanted to take them in his, knowing it had nothing to do with the performance they put on and not giving a damn. He’d taken a step toward her, reveling in being inside her personal space, when her head darted up, and she broke away.
Another relative spoke to her, a sly smile on the older woman’s face as she looked back and forth between them. Levi smiled and worked at cooling his racing pulse, letting the woman talk and following Gaby’s facial expressions for what type of reaction to have. Suddenly the real challenge was not the lack of communication, but remembering he was only a favor to Gaby, nothing more.
Chapter Eleven
Gaby settled down next to Levi at the table. Voices crisscrossed around them, and meanwhile, Levi was flipping through the pages of the Haggadah, the prayer book for Passover. She kicked herself for not prepping him more. Heck, she could have shown him the old VHS of the Claymation Haggadah she loved as a kid.
If the old Claymation had captioning. Crap, it might be worse than the table.
She reached over and touched his leg, trying to check on him inconspicuously. His thigh muscles were rock solid, and it took everything to keep her touch light and not press into the sinewy strength residing there.
Levi wrapped his fingers around hers, giving her a squeeze. She looked up into his eyes, seeing no concern in his face. The touch told her he’d be fine, and she took her guilt and tried to shove it away.
The seat across from her remained empty, and she glanced over at her mom as she entered from the kitchen. “Where’s Izzy?”
“Stuck in traffic, the last I heard. She’ll get here as soon as she can.”
Gaby stared at the empty seat. How odd, not having her sister there. They might not have always gotten along, but they were family, and the last time a family member missed Passover was when their dad died.
Her mom tapped a fork to her glass, and the chatter died down. Gaby nudged Levi’s shoulder and pointed to her mom, so he knew who was speaking.
“Thank you all for coming,” her mother began.
“Like you don’t host every year,” Aunt Faith interrupted. “What she means is, good minions for showing up another year. You’ve done your mitzvah.”
Laughter erupted around the table, except for the seat beside Gaby’s, and she wished she had a quick way to update him.
“You want to bake the turkey next year?”
Aunt Faith patted the dog head on her lap. “We can’t be stealing Bengi’s Passover snack now, can we?”
Her mom cleared her throat. “Anyway, thank you all for joining, whether you think you have a choice or not. Every year I’m grateful for all the familiar faces—and the new ones.” She nodded to Levi, and he nodded back. Gaby squeezed his leg, again, because goodness, this must suck for him. She pulled out her phone.
Gaby: Mom’s just thanking everyone for being here, even though she hosts Passover Seder every year.
Her mother continued talking, so Gaby kept typing, explaining how everyone would read a paragraph from the Haggadah, going around the table. Levi gave her a funny look at that point, but the reading had begun, so she didn’t have time to question him. She opened her book to the starting page, and he leaned over, checking her page number so he could follow along. His breath rustled her hair, and her nerve endings perked to life, going on alert. At the Passover table. Who could get turned on near matzah?
Apparently, she could.
“Gabrielle? The wine?” her mother asked.
Gaby gave herself a mental slap to get into shape and rose to collect the wine. She should have been prepared; this had been her job since long before she could drink legally, and she always made sure the kids got the good stuff. Sure, there was grape juice for anyone who didn’t want alcohol, or the very young children, but at this table, everyone got a glass.
She made her way around the room, filling all glasses, even Izzy’s for when she arrived. The two symbolic cups in the center were left empty; they would be filled later on in the service.
Back at her seat, Gaby pulled in her chair and joined in the blessing, all voices but Levi’s joining together. “Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha’olam borei p’ri hagafen.” His hands moved while the words floated around them, as though he signed the prayer to himself. Odd, there had to be some other reason for his actions, yet she couldn’t come up with one.
Levi raised his glass with the rest of them, and then everyone took a sip. Gaby let the sweet alcohol soothe her. She’d ask him about the signing later. Maybe it was a Deaf thing she wasn’t aware of. Today she was grateful for the four glasses of wine that came with Passover, and with any luck, it would keep her mind from wandering too far off the path.
Next came the karpas—the dipping of a vegetable into salt water—and maybe the wine was already relaxing her, but Gaby leaned into Levi, pressing against his arm as she pointed to the section on his page that explained the salt symbolizing the tears her ancestors shed while slaves. It felt good to be pressed against the strength of his shoulder and arm, and her left breast cheered at the contact, spurring thoughts not appropriate for Seder. It also seemed so normal to do this, like they were a real couple helping each other out.
He locked eyes with her, and her pulse gave a nice kick, quickening the effects of the wine. Goodness, at this rate, she’d be without inhibition by the time the meal was served, especially with his eyes beckoning her closer. Just a few more inches and she could drink him up like she had the wine.
His phone lay on his thigh, out of view, and she snatched it up.
Gaby: Sorry this is so inaccessible, probably would be better with your family, huh?
He shrugged and pointed to the table, where the breaking of the matzah took place. She found the section in his book, though he seemed to already be on track. Gaby forced herself to sit back and relax. She paid it no mind, working at centering herself and rejoining the discussion. Levi somehow followed along better than a gentile should. And even though he sat in the middle of her family, she barely knew a thing about his. She tried to remind herself it didn’t matter, but the truth was she wanted to know him. For Levi, though, this was not a two-way street, not at all. She’d best keep that in mind.
How long until the next cup of wine?
…
Levi followed the Seder surprisingly well. He’d been to a few that functioned vastly differently from his family’s way of doing it, but this one felt familiar, a little bit of home, even.
For so long, he’d focused on what he missed while with his family, rather than focusing on how they included him. Gaby made sure he followed, and he’d caught Anne checking on him. His family would have tossed in signs and slowed down or sped for any number of reasons.
Maybe he was a little homesick, after all, and overdue for a visit. He’d been avoiding them like the plague—frogs, lice, locusts, any of the ten plagues worked, except for the firstborn male sacrifice, since that was him—waiting for the right time to announce that the Miller-Larsen union wasn’t going to happen. How he wanted to discuss this with Gaby, for reasons he couldn’t even begin to decipher. Maybe she’d have a different take on the situation.
But he’d promised Monica. So he had to keep evading Gaby’s probing questions. He also needed to send a text to his ex and find out what the current status was, because it was high time for her to be his ex publicly. Keep the damn ring; just tell their families.
Beside him, Gaby dipped her pinky in her wine, making drops on her plate in honor of the ten plagues. He followed her lead, then followed her motions as the lingering wine on her finger slipped between her lips. He knew how she tasted now and wanted that flavor again mixed with the sweet wine.
Wrong thoughts for the Seder. He refocused on his Haggadah then glanced around the room, searching for the person speaking: Gaby. Instead of trying to copy her spot and catch up, he watched her like some kind of lovesick puppy. All part of the act, he tried to convince himself. He never stared at hearing people speaking, at least not when he wasn’t trying to lip read a word or two. But he didn’t watch Gaby’s lips; he studied her cheeks, her animated eyes, her beauty holding him transfixed to her like a moth to the flame.
When she finished, she caught him staring, and before he could look away or come up with some excuse for his behavior, she smiled, and something twisted in his chest. Then she leaned forward, talking to the person on his other side. Levi knew unless he found a text-to-speech app that had better abilities than the speech-to-text app, he couldn’t be of help right now, but he wasn’t ready to let this moment go.
Levi put his book down, words facing up. “Want me to sign.” No one would understand, and he wasn’t trying to prove a point or anything. In fact, he had no idea what point he tried to make.
Until Gaby’s smile widened and she placed a hand on his shoulder while speaking to the man on his left, as though she understood him perfectly. Her gaze held his, a challenge to take this further, and Levi glanced around the room, eyebrows raised, teasing her entire family.
They shifted uncomfortably, and he held in a laugh. He knew it not to be disrespect, just inexperience with sign languages.
Then their eyes flickered to his left, and his neighbor’s lips moved. Gaby held her phone low under the table.
Gaby: Thank you, you were brilliant!
Pride swelled in his chest. They got each other, somehow, they really did. He placed his Haggadah on his lap and angled his phone near her but out of view.
Levi: I wouldn’t mind signing, sometimes people enjoy watching a foreign language. Would be more understandable than my speech.
She nudged his shoulder after reading and stayed close while the Seder continued, their shoulders touching as he read, and she listened. A thought occurred that this should have been him and Monica up in Maine. But being with her never felt like this. He should feel more connected to a woman he grew up with, who had a hearing loss, who knew ASL. Yet it was this quirky hearing woman who had him reevaluating all his previous life choices—like how he could have proposed in the first place if this comfortable feeling of connection existed elsewhere.
He continued reading until he noticed Gaby had stopped paying attention to her book or the table. In fact, everyone had their attention to the front of the house. A woman entered, the dog running over and sprawling at her feet. Her long brown hair covered her face as she loved up the dog, and he turned back to his Haggadah, figuring this would be Gaby’s sister.
She moved around the table, greeting everyone. He didn’t look up until she settled in across from him, her weighted stare causing a flicker of warning right before he locked eyes with a wide-eyed, mouth-hanging-open Isabel, one of his ASL students. And, apparently, Gaby’s sister.
Chapter Twelve
Levi blinked at Isabel Fineberg, his ASL II student, whose shock melted off her face, replaced by a smile that resembled a “cat that caught the canary.” Crap. He never even realized she shared a last name with Gaby, and even if he had, he would have assumed it to be a common name, not a relation. Now what? He had no problem seeing students at Deaf events or functions, but not something as personal as a Seder with his fake girlfriend. Made even more complicated at the memory of Izzy being at the last Deaf event where Monica had hung all over him, showing more affection in public than she did in private.
Shit. He never even contemplated this situation. All his secrets were about to go belly up. Had he mentioned in Izzy’s class that he’d been engaged? He might not have, but that Deaf event would be his downfall, since Monica enjoyed flashing her bling for anyone with sensitivity to light to see. He needed to get a message to Izzy, figure out what she knew. If she knew about Monica, then he had two secrets to keep: Monica’s and Gaby’s.
Fuck.
He glanced at Gaby, tension straightening his spine. Izzy could have already spilled his secrets, and he’d be none the wiser.
Gaby’s mouth had gaped open, and she said something to her sister.
“Yes, I start one year,” Isabel signed. No, she started taking ASL last semester, not a year, but hey, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing for her to be signing. He’d be keeping an eye on her anyway. If she signed while revealing his secrets, at least he’d have half a chance at understanding. If he could pull off staring at her in a way that the relatives wouldn’t think he’d decided to switch sisters.
He wanted to bury his head in his hands. Could this day get any more messed up?
No, scratch that—it could. Especially while celebrating the “you’re free, wait, no, hold on, you’re not, get back here” holiday.
People began talking, and he doubted it had to
do with the Haggadah. More than likely questioning Isabel, and he could only hope he hadn’t inadvertently given her something bad to say, or worse, something that would mess up Gaby’s plans. His student continued trying to sign, but as stringing together complex sentences was a bonus for her, she did a lot of babbling, even if her family probably thought she did great.
Could he get her to understand without causing too much of a scene? Probably not.
The commotion quieted down, and the readings continued. Gaby turned his page, helping him get back on track. He read until someone kicked his foot.
He looked up to find Isabel staring at him. “How sign E-G-Y-P-T?”
He showed her the sign, noting Gaby stared at him. He had no idea if Isabel’s moving lips came with voice or not. At least she asked him about a sign and not a question about his personal life.
“How sign S-L-A-V-E?”
He showed her again, though he much preferred his students to learn through context. “Pay attention. You have ears,” he signed.
Isabel slouched. “Fine. I want learn.”
“Later.” He wasn’t sure he meant that, but he needed Isabel to let him go back to reading in peace. He prayed her lack of outing him was a good sign. Maybe she hadn’t noticed Monica at all before and hadn’t a clue about his former engagement.
He managed to get through a few more pages before she kicked him again. He braced himself for the worst.
“How sign P-A-S-S-O-V-E-R?”
Crap, he wasn’t getting out of this, even if he took the signing questions over anything else. He hoped she spoke some, so Gaby could be learning as well.
He crossed one arm across his body, and with his other hand in a fist, tapped his elbow twice. “Same as C-R-A-C-K-E-R, you know, like the M-A-T-Z-A-H.” He followed that up with a second way the holiday could be signed, imitating the literal act of the Jewish houses being passed over during the final plague that took the firstborn son of each Egyptian.