Matzah Ball Surprise

by Laura Brown

  Or maybe that was the wine.

  He pointed to her and then made a motion with his hands, “L-E-A-R-N G-O-O-D.” He formed the letters painfully slow, and it took a few repeats, but she amazed herself by following.

  When she realized what he meant by those two words, she blushed—blushed! Acting like she hadn’t had a compliment in ages. Deep inside she knew it had been a while—a long while thanks to Tom—but not enough to warrant blushing.

  She thought of the alphabet and the shapes and her fingers and made her first attempt at putting a word together. “T-G-S-N-P Y-O-V.”

  It took another ten minutes for him to get her to correctly spell “thank you.”

  He picked up the paper.

  Might be a good idea to practice a bit before Thursday. I can send you a few websites to help.

  She nodded and wondered if he felt like this every day, this feeling of not being able to communicate easily and effectively. She really had taken the ability to have a casual conversation with just about anyone for granted. She took the paper and wrote.

  Thank you for teaching me.

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. And maybe for him it wasn’t. Didn’t matter—it meant something to her. She took the paper again.

  Can I treat you to dinner? As a way of thanking you for helping?

  His eyebrows drew low as he wrote his response.

  Isn’t that what we’re doing on Friday?

  Oh dear, she hadn’t explained Passover and unleavened bread yet, had she?

  I should warn you that Passover food isn’t the best. Long story, but none of the food has yeast in it.

  At least he would learn something from the Haggadah—the booklet of prayers and traditions read during Passover. His features shifted while he read her note, but she couldn’t identify what it meant, a stark reminder she knew nothing about this man. Before she could make any guesses, he blanked his expression and wrote again:

  In that case, what did you have in mind?

  Chapter Four

  Levi tapped a finger to the table he shared with Gaby at a midrange chain restaurant. Her choice. A nondescript place that didn’t tell him much about the woman. Not like her apartment. Where she lived had color and warmth, a mixture of modern and contemporary styles. Her place made it clear she didn’t fit into one clean box and shouldn’t be forced into one.

  This restaurant didn’t match that impression.

  He forced those thoughts out of his head. What did he care? Gaby was a random favor. But figuring people out had become his thing. He liked to discover what made a person tick, that special something they needed but couldn’t see, and then find a way to flip that switch and send them on their way to a happier state.

  The method had worked in the past, with only Monica as the rare exception. Served him right for allowing his parents to set him up with their friend’s daughter, a.k.a. his childhood classmate. Mainly because he couldn’t find her switch and foolishly believed that meant there was more to their relationship than it seemed. And for a time, they were good together, but then the tarp was ripped off, revealing that even though they both painted the same room, they’d been using different colors all along.

  Gaby, on the other hand—if he tried hard enough, he might be able to help her out before the weekend finished. Not that he needed to help her any more than he already was, but the restaurant felt like a wall she had hastily built, and damn him, he wanted to know more about her.

  His phone vibrated, and he picked it up, finding a long and complex explanation of who was who in her family.

  Levi: You want me to study this? Will there be a test?

  Gaby’s cheeks pinked as she read her phone, and somehow that made him proud. Yes, she had walls, but so did he. So why did he feel like Gaby threatened his structure?

  Gaby: No test, something you would have picked up from us interacting. A bit of a warning of who to stay clear of.

  His stomach lurched and he studied her, looking for any indication of an abusive family member or something, but her face held no signs of such hidden terrors.

  Levi: Problems?

  She shook her head as she responded.

  Gaby: Just your typical large and loud family.

  He caught her gaze and shrugged. Loud wasn’t really an issue for him.

  A quick smile came to her face, and her shoulders bounced. She opened her mouth, and he wondered how often she tried speaking to him, and how much she would continue to.

  His phone vibrated again, and it had nothing to do with the woman sitting across from him. She hadn’t touched her phone. Please don’t be Monica.

  He glanced down and sighed.

  Monica: Dinner? I promise I’ll discuss our exit plan.

  Doubtful. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because they’d already had this discussion twice. The plan only worked if her father caved, and that hadn’t happened. Add that to her typical stubborn refusal to budge, and he remained trapped. As a child, she once had to be forcibly removed from a swing because she didn’t want recess to end. He shoved his hands through his hair. Why had he ever thought marrying her would be a good idea?

  Gaby cocked her head to the side, hand reaching out as though to check on his phone and what held him up. He couldn’t let her see it. He had to protect Monica’s secret, even though the whole situation had him kicking his own ass.

  He needed a time machine so he could go back to before he got down on one knee and tell his former self: don’t do it man; set up a fundraiser for her instead.

  He held up a finger to Gaby and quickly responded to Monica, needing to diffuse the situation ASAP.

  Levi: Out on a date. But don’t worry, our parents will never know. I seem to be forced to lie a lot these days.

  Monica: I don’t believe you. Pics or it didn’t happen.

  He raised an eyebrow at Gaby and showed her the message, careful to expose only Monica’s newest response on the screen. She lifted a shoulder.

  Gaby: Might be more convincing if we had a collection of selfies to add to this farce.

  By the time he finished reading, she stood next to his side of the booth. He looked up into her amber eyes and felt something twist in his chest. He shifted back, and she sidled in next to him, her body sizzling against his. Breathing became optional, but he forced himself into action, clicking the camera icon and slanting the phone to capture both of them in the same shot.

  Gaby shifted even closer, settling her head on his shoulder, a content smile on her face as though she always did this.

  He took the picture, only his eyes had remained on Gaby, not the camera, and it made him look like some sort of evil villain. Next to him, Gaby shook with laughter. He held up a finger. “One more.”

  She nodded and once again placed her head on his shoulder. Some sort of berry aroma floated to his nose, and he closed his eyes to better take in the scent. At the same time his thumb hit the camera button.

  The next picture had his eyes closed. Who the hell managed to take a selfie with closed eyes?

  Gaby had a hand over her mouth, shoulders bouncing next to him. She pointed to the phone, head cocked to the side.

  Given his track record, he nodded.

  She collected the phone, repositioned them, then with her free hand, shifted his chin up before taking the photo.

  It worked. They looked good. Heck, they looked like an actual couple with the lack of any air between them. “Thank you,” he signed, following it with a thumbs-up to be clear.

  Gaby nodded and inched out of the booth, taking her warmth with her. He shook his head. Get a grip. It hadn’t been that long since Monica; he was not hard up.

  Levi sent the picture.

  Monica: Cute. Should have known it would be the woman from the gym. Who does she think I am?

  Levi: Some old friend. Tell the family I need t
o help someone or a student, I don’t care.

  Monica: Just don’t mess me up.

  One reason why he had dinner with Gaby—the farther he stayed away from Monica and their families, the less he could interfere with her master plan.

  He scrolled through Gaby’s long message of family relationships in an effort to catch up and not ignore her staring up at the ceiling, waiting on him.

  Levi: One younger sister, that’s it?

  Gaby: Trust me, two of us were enough. How about your family?

  Levi: One older sister. One younger brother. Both hearing.

  He wasn’t sure why he willingly shared that fact, especially with a hearing person.

  Gaby: Anyone else in your family deaf?

  Levi: No.

  Her eyes widened in surprise, yet his situation was very common. Most deaf children were born to hearing parents. Probably due to some cruel twist of fate. Another reason why he and Monica were pushed together.

  Gaby: You don’t seem like you’re close.

  Levi: We’re not. They live in Maine. I don’t.

  Gaby: All of them?

  Levi: All of them.

  Where was the food? He needed out of this conversation. His family wasn’t a topic he enjoyed. And he needed to get away from it before he accidentally shared anything related to Monica.

  Gaby: Must be similar to why I live just over the border in New Hampshire while my family is from Connecticut.

  Levi: All of them?

  Gaby: No, not all. Some are in New York. My sister’s in Massachusetts.

  Levi: But none near you.

  Gaby: I like my space. And the distance is fine by me.

  Their food arrived and conversation halted as they both focused on their meals. The sudden lack of words didn’t disturb the ambience they had created, not with the friendly glances she continued to send his way, like two good friends with little need for constant words. Levi removed the top bun of his burger and reached for the ketchup at the same time Gaby did. Their hands brushed, her smooth skin running against his, the jolt heading straight to his dick. For a fake relationship, they had more chemistry than his past two relationships combined. And what was he going to do about that?

  …

  Gaby yanked her hand back as though she’d been hit by lightning. She gestured for Levi to go first. Only he had also pulled his hand back and gestured for her to go first. Which was ridiculous; she wanted the ketchup for her fries, and he wanted it for his burger. Burger beats fries every time. Perhaps that needed to be the new rock-paper-scissors game. And she bet with his language it might even be simpler.

  She gestured again for him to go first, adding a bit of royal flair to her motion. He shook his head, a wide smile on his face, and collected the ketchup. Two quick spanks to the bottom of the bottle should not have turned her on, not at all, but there was something about his large hand and fluid motions that screamed of efficient pleasure.

  And she knew Mr. Free-Weights had the strength to deliver.

  Gaby swallowed, willing her cheeks to not match the bottle as he passed the ketchup to her. She shook a small portion beside her fries, not needing to do much to ease the substance out after his spanks. She resisted the urge to pull at her top and fan her face.

  Fake date, Gaby. No spanking.

  Sad how that snuffed out her flame. She collected her phone for a distraction.

  Gaby: I’m not used to health buffs eating burgers and fries.

  Levi took a bite of his sandwich while he read, a drop of ketchup landing on the side of his mouth. Her tongue itched, ready to show him the issue or take care of it for him, when his own tongue snaked out and collected the mess.

  Her panties went damp. Ketchup as foreplay—that was a new one for her.

  Levi: All food is good in moderation. I eat what I want, work out because I like to.

  Music to her ears. She glanced at him, fearing he could read her thoughts. Stupid thoughts, thinking of music and ears around a deaf guy. She mentally slapped herself, but that just led to more thoughts of spanking and a need to drink a lot more water and cool down.

  Gaby: Nice. My ex was into healthy, organic, low fat, low sugar, low taste. I like healthy, but I agree with moderation. Cake and cookies have rights, too.

  As Levi read and responded, voices from the table behind them registered. “Young people these days, more interested in their phones than human interaction.”

  “We’re doomed,” another person said.

  “Phones should not be allowed at dinner tables, but I fear they’ve already lost the basics of communication.”

  Gaby’s phone dinged, but she didn’t reach for it. A red haze clouded her vision, and even though she knew better, she couldn’t stop herself. She turned around, facing the two women at the table behind her. They couldn’t be more than twenty years her senior, yet they acted like it was a century.

  “Hi,” Gaby said. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Because I’m hearing. My date, however, is deaf. So while you assume that we’re ignoring each other, we’re actually using our phones to chat because I don’t know ASL yet. Maybe next time before you toss around preconceived notions, you’ll stop and think about the other possible reasons behind certain actions.”

  The women’s mouths dropped open, but Gaby didn’t stay facing them long enough to smile and gloat. She turned back around, rage still vibrating through her. The nerve of some people—even if this particular situation wasn’t one she would have previously thought of.

  Levi’s eyebrows drew low, confusion written across his face. Gaby held up a finger and quickly began typing, ignoring something about cake in Levi’s last response. She summed up the situation, fingers stumbling, but managed to get her point across. Thank you, autocorrect.

  He read, then looked behind her, before returning to his phone.

  Levi: Good for you. While phones can distract from socialization, not every case is clear cut.

  Gaby: Exactly. I admit, I would have thought the same a week ago. So thank you for helping me expand my horizon.

  Levi: You’re welcome. Anything else I can help with?

  She choked on a French fry, her libido perking up and providing her with a long list of demands. She crossed ketchup from the list, then attempted to shred the damn thing before her fingers responded with something inappropriate.

  Gaby: Anything I need to know to interact with you better?

  Levi wiped his hands on a napkin before responding.

  Levi: To get my attention wave or tap my shoulder. If I’m in a room, flashing the lights also works. I can catch the occasional word or two via lip reading, but don’t count on it. Beyond that, just don’t yell. My ears don’t work; louder noises don’t help.

  Gaby: Don’t yell, got it. Can you hear anything at all?

  Levi: Not really. My parents gave me hearing aids as a kid, and I could catch some environmental sounds, but they gave me more headaches than clues to my environment.

  Gaby sipped her water while she read, fascinated with this glimpse into his life. Before she could respond, an incoming call came through—her mother. Not the type of call one could ignore and not be perceived as in need of medical attention, or worse. She quickly showed the phone to Levi, grateful she had her mother listed as “Mom,” then sent what she hoped was an apologetic glance while she answered.

  “Hey, Mom, I’m busy, what’s up?”

  “Checking on Passover plans, dear. I’m doing my final food shop tomorrow and want to make sure I’ve got enough.”

  The hidden meaning being: was Gaby planning on tucking tail and not showing up, even though there would be plenty of food regardless. She bit her lip. Across the table, Levi’s head bent, and he did something on his phone, wisps of hair brushing his forehead. “Actually, Mom, I’m bringing someone with me.”

  �
�Oh? You and Izzy carpooling?”

  What did it say that her mother’s first assumption was carpooling with her sister? “No, I’m still coming early to help you out, and Izzy has classes. I’m bringing a date.”

  Silence echoed through the line to the point where Gaby checked the connection.

  “Gaby, sweetie,” her mother finally said, “I know you’re hurting—”

  Oh dear. She quickly intercepted. “This has nothing to do with Tom. I can’t believe I forgot to mention this”—she forced a laugh—“but I’ve been seeing this guy from my gym. Levi. He’s coming with me.” Did she sound fake to her mother’s ears? Gaby had half a mind to check with the women behind her to see if they were still listening and could offer some pointers.

  “Levi… Is he Jewish? Levi sounds Jewish.”

  “No, he’s not,” Gaby said on instinct. Only now, she studied his face, wondering the same. No, ridiculous—he would have mentioned it if he was. Besides, what were the odds she’d find a random stranger who happened to be single and Jewish? Not likely at all. “His mother probably had some weird obsession with jeans.” Shut up, Gaby! She bit her tongue.

  “That’s interesting.” Her mother paused. “So what does he do?”

  Shit, she hadn’t gotten that far into their fake backstory. “Mom, I’m sorry, but we’re at dinner and our food just arrived. I’ll introduce you on Thursday, bye.” She hung up quickly and closed her eyes tight, swearing under her breath. She hadn’t even mentioned Levi being deaf. This wasn’t going to work. Everyone would see right through her. She should just wave a white flag and give up now.

  A hand settled on hers, and a wave of comfort spread through her at the touch. She opened her eyes to find Levi’s concerned face. Concerned and handsome face. Didn’t matter how foolish this scheme was—one look at Levi and even her mother wouldn’t care.

  Gaby forced a smile and collected her phone.