Without Words

by Stewart, Delancey

  Dani laughed and knelt down on the sidewalk to give him a big hug, her smile for him completely unguarded and huge. I was aware that I’d been envious of my dog more than once lately where she was concerned.

  When she’d finished greeting Sampson, Dani stood, turning toward me.

  I stood at the edge of the sidewalk, feeling awkward and out of place, my nerves vibrating. “Hey,” I managed.

  “Hey,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Rob. How are you? How is your father?”

  I smiled, a natural reaction to being in close proximity to Dani again, and I marveled at the way she made me feel. Even four feet away, even if I never got to touch her again, just being near her made me giddy and light. And nervous, too. “He’s okay for now. It was good that I went to visit.”

  Her expression clouded, shifted. “Visit?” she repeated.

  I nodded, and a silence fell between us, laden with something unspoken. I turned back toward the truck. “I have something for you. For the shop.”

  “You do?” Her surprise was almost childlike, and her expression cleared again as she followed my gaze to the bed of the truck where the table and chairs were strapped in. “What is it?” She had wandered down the side of the truck and was on her tiptoes, peering over the side of the tall bed at the furniture, and all my stuff packed in around it.

  I walked around to the bed, calling Oliver to give me a hand, and we unloaded the furniture onto the sidewalk.

  “This is pretty cool,” Oliver said, running a hand down the curve of the barrel edge that made up the base of the table. “What about this other stuff?”

  I shook my head. “My stuff. I’m moving.”

  Dani’s eyes widened, but her smile faded. She placed a hand on the tabletop, where the brand for Bodega Buena Vida was stamped at one side of the edge, and traced her fingers reverently over the words for a long time before speaking. “This is from your winery?” her hand stayed on the tabletop as her eyes found my face.

  I nodded. “Some of the old oak barrels we replaced a while ago.”

  “And you made all this?”

  As she said it, she ran her hand over the glazed tabletop, around the hoop that had once held the barrel in shape. She bent down to examine the stools, letting her hands follow the graceful arches of the staves that had been turned into chair legs.

  “I thought they might work in your shop,” I said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “I hope you like them.”

  She turned to me and dropped her hands to her sides, her mouth opening and then closing again. “This is amazing,” she said, her voice just a breath. “I can’t…Rob, I can’t believe how talented you are. These are beautiful.” She stepped forward, seeming uncertain at first, but then she threw her arms around my neck. As her hair brushed my face and my arms went around her, the world stopped spinning. Her scent of sun and citrus wafted around us, and for just a second, we were alone, and I knew this was what mattered to me. I kissed her softly on the cheek, and released her. This was what I wanted, but I was willing to wait for it. To let her find the right time.

  She stepped back and then skipped inside, returning with Amy at her side. “Look at this stuff, Amy. Isn’t it incredible?”

  Amy examined the table and chairs, silent as her hands tracked the curving wood. Then she stood still and looked up at me. “You could sell this stuff, Rob.” She said it matter-of-factly, and I felt a proud glow flush my skin. Amy’s approval meant a lot to me because I knew it meant a lot to Dani.

  Oliver and I moved the furniture inside, where it joined the low vintage couches Amy and Dani had bought. We put it toward the back, and Dani’s face was lit from somewhere inside her as she walked around the grouping, letting her hand trail the smooth wood. “This is perfect. The tasting bar didn’t get built because…” She nodded toward Tony. “So this can be the tasting table. It’s the perfect height, and these chairs are amazing. I never would have thought to repurpose wine barrels, but it makes so much sense.” Her gaze found mine again, and every part of me stood at attention. “Thank you,” she said.

  I’d never met anyone who could make you feel so certain that their gratitude was genuine. Communication might have been my weakness, but it was definitely Dani’s strength.

  “Thank you for the cookies, too,” she added.

  I stayed at the shop, helping unload the many cases of wine and organize them into the tall shelves that were still slightly sticky with stain. The bookcases were placed in the other side of the shop, the couches nearby, and a little while after Dani had disappeared into the back, the smell of something baking filled the space.

  Amy stepped outside at one point and came back with another guy I didn’t know, who climbed a ladder, hung some speakers, and pulled some wire to the back. “My gift to Dani,” she told Trent as I stood nearby.

  In the back, I could hear Dani questioning the stranger with all the tools, and his murmured response. The next sound was her loud squeal of excitement, and then she came bursting back out to hug and thank her sister. Not long after, music poured through the small speakers and the shop was filled with strains of guitar and Mark Knopfler’s crooning voice.

  By the time darkness drifted down onto the street outside, Dani’s shop was almost ready to open, with the exception of the final wall of shelving behind the counter and one freestanding wine rack that could wait. She was bouncing from one place to another, filling the refrigerated glass-front with baked goods and talking excitedly. The guys had to get back to the station to begin a shift the next morning, so I slipped out the door in the commotion when they left. Being close to Dani all day, watching her excitement and her gratitude was hard. I loved seeing her happy. It wasn’t that. It was hard being so near her, so close to that light and incredible beauty, and feeling so separate. We still had things to talk about, I knew, and I had an apology to offer.

  And though I was making progress in therapy, it had been just a few days, and feeling as much as I had at the shop today was still hard. I had so many emotions, big, unwieldy, and confusing ones. I didn’t know what to do with all of them and needed some space and time.

  In all the commotion, Dani didn’t notice when I slipped out and picked up Sampson’s leash, and I thought that was for the best. I’d give us both some more space. Time for her to focus on the shop, and for me to focus on the confusing web inside my mind.

  I drove to the new cottage, which was nearby. With no steady income yet, I hadn’t wanted to dump my entire savings into a house, but I’d been freeloading at Trent’s place for too long. I needed to establish my independence, begin to rebuild a life of my own. As soon as I’d put my stuff inside the small two-bedroom bungalow, a feeling of deep loneliness washed over me. Sampson whined as I knelt at his side.

  “This is home now, buddy,” I told him.

  He whined again and pushed against my side in the darkened room.

  “You’re right. We need furniture.” We headed back out to the truck.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dani

  Trent spent the night at our house before his early shift at the station the next day, so there was a point just before bed when he and Amy sprawled together on the couch and I was curled up in the armchair across the room.

  “You feel ready?” Trent asked me.

  I nodded. “I might have a day to spare, even. I’ve got tomorrow to stain the last wall of shelves and Thursday to put up all the books and add any finishing touches.” I wrapped my hands around my tea mug and sighed. “Thanks for making it happen on time. I owe you a lot, both of you.”

  Amy grinned. “I’ll collect. Don’t worry about that.”

  I stuck out my tongue at her.

  “Rob did a nice job on that table and chairs,” she said slowly, as if she wasn’t sure she should bring him up.

  “Busted his ass fixing the counter that your boy Tony screwed up, too,” Trent added.

  Amy elbowed him in the ribs. “Tony is not my boy.”

  “No?” he asked, look
ing down into her face with a huge smile. “I thought you had the hookup on that gem.”

  “How was I supposed to know he was construction-challenged? He has his own truck and everything,” she cried.

  “I could put my name on the side of the truck with the word proctologist beneath it,” Trent said. “Doesn’t make me more qualified to stick my fingers—”

  “We get it, thanks for the lovely example.”

  “Any time.” He chuckled.

  “It was nice of Rob to come back up to help,” I said. “I wish he’d said goodbye, though.” Sadness crept in again as I remembered how I’d watched him slip out the door and into his truck, pulling away without a single word.

  “It was pretty crazy in there at the end of the day,” Trent said. “He’s still not great with commotion.”

  I thought about that, but I was tired of Rob using his difficulties as an excuse. “Yeah, I got that.” I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the other stuff I’d seen in the back of the truck, about the way he’d just packed up and left without saying goodbye.

  I opened my eyes again in time to see Amy and Trent exchange a look. “Dani, what’s wrong?”

  Embarrassment flooded my body and a flush crept up my face as I realized my eyes had welled up with tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of Trent. He didn’t need to know how I felt about Rob, that I was torn into a million little pieces because he’d moved away and hadn’t even told me properly. All because it was too hard for him.

  “I just hate how he left,” I managed. I squeezed my eyes shut and a tear escaped. It trailed down my cheek and I wiped it away, anger making my hand fly back quickly to my side. “I saw all his stuff packed up in the truck. I guess I just thought maybe he’d actually take five minutes and say goodbye to me.” My voice was a pathetic whine, which made me angrier, made my voice louder. “Maybe we weren’t ever really together…maybe I had a different idea of things than he did. But we were friends at least.” I thought for a minute as Amy stood and crossed the room to wrap her arms around me, shoving me over in the chair. “He made me that table and those chairs…why did he do that?” I cried, tears flowing freely down my face now. “I just…I’m confused.”

  “He moved out,” Trent offered, confirming everything I already knew. “He got his own place.”

  What difference did it make if he’d gone to live in his family’s home or on his own down there? He was still gone. I sniffed as I tried to choke back the fresh tears that came as Trent confirmed it.

  “It’s a little two-bedroom cottage down on Saratoga, close to Nimitz,” Trent said. “Kind of a dump, but I’m sure he’ll fix it up.”

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad,” Trent said, backpedaling.

  “No, I mean…he didn’t move to Mexico?”

  Trent shook his head and Amy squealed, hugging me tighter.

  “What is it with men?” Amy asked. “Why can’t you ever just communicate your plans? See how all this could have been avoided?” She sounded angry with Trent and I turned to see if she was kidding.

  “Wait,” Trent said. “This is my fault now?”

  I smiled at him, relief making my limbs light and strange. “No,” I assured him.

  Rob hadn’t moved away. He’d just moved out of Trent’s place. I still wished he had told me, but things between us were strained.

  I didn’t know what do with the information, but I couldn’t deny the happiness at knowing he wasn’t moving to Mexico. Maybe there was still a chance for something. Friendship, at least. I knew I wanted much more than that, but given the way I’d pushed Rob away, I wasn’t sure what he was thinking at this point. I’d be happy just to have a chance to be near him, to have that quiet fortitude surround me again, to feel the balance I found at his side.

  I got ready for bed, letting this new information tumble around in my head, trying to find a place to put it. My world had been deconstructed in the last couple of weeks, and so many things I thought I knew with certainty had come apart and realigned themselves in new ways. Granddad hadn’t left Nan…not voluntarily. Amy hadn’t found that news as shocking as I had, but she’d always been better at taking things in stride. Maybe that came from expecting the world to be harsh and being pleasantly surprised when it wasn’t. I came at everything from the other direction, expecting the world to be kind and finding myself constantly shocked when it wasn’t.

  But knowing that Rob hadn’t left…it was forcing me to reconsider the assumptions I made about men in general and him specifically. Not only had he come back, but he’d come to the shop and helped when I’d needed it, with no clear expectations for things between us to change at all. He had come just because I needed help.

  And the table he made… I still couldn’t believe how beautiful his gift had been. My heart swelled as I thought of it all. I had pushed him away, certain I was doing the right thing, protecting myself. Maybe Rob deserved another chance. After all, hadn’t I done to him exactly what I’d been so afraid he would do to me?

  I closed my eyes as the sound of the freeway hummed and whooshed nearby. In two days I would open the doors of my shop for the first time. In two days I would begin the rest of my life. I willed myself to get some rest.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rob

  Over the next days, I began to establish a semblance of a routine. At Trent’s, I’d gotten in the habit of sleeping until the sun—or my dog—woke me up, mostly because there was nowhere I needed to be. Now I set my alarm early religiously, rising before the sun and firing up the computer over a cup of coffee. I’d never been a computer whiz, but I needed a website.

  I’d work for a couple of hours and then take Sampson down to the beach for a workout or a run. Though the shop on Newport pulled me like a beacon, I purposely avoided it. I needed some time to move forward, to establish myself as the man I had decided to become.

  The cottage was looking more like home—at least it now had a bed, a couch, and a television. I’d had trouble choosing anything else during my quick evening trip to Ikea. Decision-making was still not my strong point, but this was less about choosing between black and brown and much more about quality. It might take longer, but in the end I thought I would be better off making my own tables and chairs. The time spent in the effort qualified as therapy anyway.

  My two-a-day appointments continued, though Dr. Indigo, my case manager, suggested slowing the pace soon, and I had agreed. We’d made progress—at least in that I felt it was possible for me to get better. Words didn’t come a lot easier, but if I was patient with myself they did come eventually. The trick was to stave off frustration and give my mind time to find the words it needed. Dr. Indigo promised it would get easier, but he also cautioned me that I would probably never be as unthinkingly articulate as I was before my accident.

  The same patience was required when it came to managing my emotions. Another therapist—a calm and gentle tiny woman with a deeply wrinkled face and strong hands—was helping me learn to settle my mind when it began to churn. I’d told her about the guitar, about woodworking, and how they had helped in the past. I’d also told her about Dani, and she’d nodded with a knowing smile. “Anything that demands your concentration, that motivates you and focuses your attention is good,” she’d said. “She sounds like a good woman.”

  Her words had stuck with me, and in the hours when I wasn’t otherwise engaged, Dani filled my mind. I would go back to her, but I had to be clear about my intentions first. I couldn’t use Dani as an alternate form of therapy because it felt good to me. That wasn’t fair to her.

  I’d go back soon, when I was sure I could be good enough for her. “You deserve to be happy,” she’d said. And so did she.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dani

  Sunlight flooded my bedroom and I stretched my limbs, letting my awareness rise slowly to the surface like a bubble of air floating to the top of a glass of water.

  Today was the day. Tod
ay my dream would take on physical form. I’d walk into my shop and swing the little sign around so that it said “open ” and invite the world inside. I waited for the nervousness to set in, but it didn’t come. I sat up and yawned, happiness dancing through me.

  When I stepped out into the kitchen, I quickly found that there was no need for me to be nervous. Amy was going to handle that for both of us.

  “Oh my God, I thought you’d never get up. You only have a couple of hours until the shop opens.” She stepped to my side and looked at me expectantly.

  “Why are you already up?” I wandered past her for coffee.

  “Because it’s opening day. I could barely sleep. Also, because Trent had to get up super crazy early to go to the station.” She shrugged.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re excited,” I smiled at her over my coffee cup.

  “I’m a little freaked out, actually. Aren’t you? What if no one comes? Dani, what if we put all this effort and time into this shop and no one ever shows up?”

  My happy mood began to dissipate. “You should do more research on how to give a pep talk. This one blows.”

  “Oh God, sorry. Of course it will be fine. I’m sure it will be awesome.” Amy’s voice ended on a high note, almost like she was asking a question.

  “You’re coming to help, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, then let’s get dressed and go do this,” I suggested.

  “Right. Action. Good idea.” She turned and disappeared into her bedroom.

  Nervous Amy was not my favorite version of my sister, and having her suggest that things might not go well hadn’t helped build my confidence. Still, there wasn’t much that could ruin the day for me now.