Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THURL RAVENSCROFT, “YOU’REAMEANONE,MR.GRINCH”
Gabby
I caved.
Armed with the best intentions of giving Ben the cold shoulder, I tried not to look back at him during the service. After all, he didn’t deserve anything from me after how he treated me over Thanksgiving and not responding to any of my letters. Then I made the mistake of taking a peek at him, and he looked so handsome in his suit. He also looked sad and lost.
Why did his parents make him attend church when he couldn’t hear the music or the sermon? As soon as the question popped into my head, I let it spark a little hope that maybe he was there to see me. By the time I sneaked a half dozen unnecessary glances in his direction, my need to hug and kiss him was unbearable, so I wrote two messages on the palms of my hands.
His kiss didn’t disappoint. Ben was either a spectacular kisser (even better than Matt) or I was biased.
“It was nice seeing Ben at church,” Mom said as we ate Sunday dinner with Grandma Bonnie.
I wrinkled my nose at Mom’s oyster soup. Was I being punished? She knew I hated it. “Yeah. I’m sure he enjoyed sitting in silence for forty-five minutes, watching Dad’s lips move and his hands make a bunch of gestures. I mean, Dad…” I grinned “…if you’re going to use your hands so much when you talk, then you should learn sign language.”
Dad wiped his mouth. “Does Ben know sign language? The last time I talked with Alan, he said Ben wasn’t interested in learning it.”
I fished all the oysters out of my soup. “Well, I’ve been learning it, so I’m going to teach him.”
Everyone at the table returned skeptical expressions.
“Since when?” Mom asked.
“Since Ben dropped out of school. It’s a community education class I found in Ann Arbor. It’s three nights a week.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mom narrowed her eyes.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, mostly for Ben. But that’s when I thought he would learn it. So when I was home over Thanksgiving and I found out he was not surprised or impressed that I’d been learning it, I lost my enthusiasm over telling anyone else. I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me that I wasted time and money on it. But now since …”
Since all I can think about is kissing Ben until he makes me orgasm.
I cleared my throat. No one needed to know my true motivation. “Since Ben seems to be less aggressive toward everyone, I’m going to convince him to let me teach him sign language. And I hope he then learns more on his own. He’s pretty competitive, so maybe I can spark his interest.”
“How are you going to convince him to let you teach him?” Grandma Bonnie asked.
I tucked my chin to hide my grin and focused on dumping a bunch of oyster crackers into the broth. It was the only way I could get it down. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out.”
A lie.
I knew exactly how I was going to convince him—by taking Eve’s advice.
* * *
On Monday, with two days until Christmas, I needed to finish up my Christmas shopping. So on my way to the mall, I stopped by Ben’s house.
“Gabby, what a nice surprise,” Carmen said, opening the front door and gesturing for me to come inside.
“Hi. I have some Christmas shopping to do. I thought Ben could come with me.”
“Oh,” she gave me a nervous smile, “I’m not sure he’s out of bed yet.”
I pushed up my jacket sleeve to look at my watch. It was a quarter to noon.
Carmen shook her head. “I know. He should be up by now. I never know what his mood will be, so I usually just let him get up on his own. When I wake him, he tends to be extra grumpy.”
“Well, good thing I’m the one waking him today.” I shrugged off my jacket, hung it on the hook, and headed up the stairs.
“Good luck,” she said with a chuckle.
When I reached the top, I peeked into Tillie’s room, but she wasn’t there. I had my paperclip in my pocket, but when I tried the door handle, it was unlocked. The room was dim from the drawn shades, sans the light from his alarm clock. I softly closed the door behind me, and tiptoed toward his bed, praying I didn’t step on any Legos.
I slid into bed with him, and he jumped.
“It’s me,” I said, but he continued to back away. “It’s Gab—” I was an idiot. Why was it so easy to forget he couldn’t hear?
I guided his hand to my face and my hair, and he relaxed.
“What are you doing?” His voice was faint and raspy.
I rubbed my nose along his neck before kissing it.
“What are you doing?” he repeated.
I grinned against his skin then kissed along his jaw toward his lips.
“Gabbs, we can’t do this.” He grabbed my wrists and climbed over me to get out of bed. After plucking things from his dresser drawers, he left the room.
I threw an arm over my face and breathed slowly. What was I doing? Before the rational part of my brain could answer, Ben returned and turned on the light. He wore jeans ripped above the knee and a gray T-shirt as wrinkled as his anguished face. It was the look my parents gave me any time I disappointed them.
On a slow deflate, I stood and grabbed paper and a pen from his desk.
I need to finish my Christmas shopping. Come with me.
He shook his head while balancing on one foot to pull on his socks.
You need to finish your Christmas shopping. I’ll take you.
Ben stared at the paper with a dead expression.
It’s not about ME. It’s about YOU. Happy now?
His gaze lifted from the paper to my face, and I returned a toothy grin. As hard as he tried not to smile, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“I’m skipping Christmas,” he said.
I tapped my temple and pulled my hand away with my thumb and pinkie finger pointed outward (the sign for “why”) while saying it too.
As much as my signing seemed to irritate him, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t understand what I asked. Once again, the unopened letter from me was on his desk. I made of show of ripping it into pieces before writing:
Why didn’t you write me back?
After a brief glance at the paper, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. I told myself I wouldn’t be that person—the one who made everything about me. But what we did in his bed over Thanksgiving wasn’t just about me; it was about us.
Do you regret it?
Tension pulled at his brow as he stared at the paper. “I don’t know.”
What was that supposed to mean? We didn’t have sex. So why did he say that?
“We should just be friends.” Every word he spoke dug into my heart, exposing its fragility.
Again, I signed, “Why?”
“Because our friendship should come first.”
Ben always had a way of tripping up my thinking. I was a dreamer floating in the wind, and he was my gravity, my gentle anchor to reality. Of course, our friendship came first. Except, there was a “but” that came after that thought. I didn’t know what came after the “but,” but something did because we were friends.
Best friends.
But we were more.
“Don’t overthink it,” he said.
Reading each other’s minds wasn’t always a good thing. It made me feel so transparent in his eyes.
Why kiss me if we’re just friends?
He shrugged and opened the blinds, letting the bright easterly sun hit me in the face. “You asked me to teach you. So I’m teaching you.”
“Teaching me? Are you kidding me?” Anger bubbled up my chest and straight out of my mouth. I sighed and grumbled at the same time as he gave me his dead look because he couldn’t hear me.
Just slow blinks.
Every time I spoke on instinct and he returned that expression, it felt like God was knocking the wind out of me. I turned and blinked back my stupid tears while scribbling something that was less about me.
Thank you for your help. I’m relieving you of your teaching duties. See you later.
Ben stared at the paper for longer than it took to read my words. “Thought you wanted to take me shopping,” he murmured without lifting his gaze.
You said no.
He looked at me. “Now, I’m saying yes.”
I wanted to give up and go home. Ben’s awful attitude stole my Christmas cheer. But I had presents to buy, so I nodded before pivoting to head down the stairs. Ben followed me.
“You got him out of bed. That’s a Christmas miracle,” his mom said as we put on our coats and shoes by the front door.
I mustered the best smile I could despite my crestfallen heart. “Yeah. He’s Scrooge for sure.”
Ben stared at the floor when I looked at him. He had been so cruel to me; I shouldn’t have felt sorry for him, but I did. It had to be awful knowing that people were talking around him, but he didn’t know what was being said.
Then again, it was kind of his fault.
I tapped the bottom of his chin, making him look at me. Then I signed, “Learn ASL.”
Of course, it only intensified said pouty face.
“Is that sign language?” Carmen asked.
I nodded, keeping my gaze locked with Ben’s. “Yes. I’m taking a class three nights a week, but your stubborn son won’t do the same. I don’t know a lot. But I know some basics.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I returned a tiny smirk.
“Wow, Gabby! This boy of mine doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you in his life. I hope you can convince him to learn it, too, because Alan and I want to.” She grabbed his arm to get his attention and slowly mouthed “be good” to him.
He frowned and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She hugged him while winking at me.
He could be the biggest jerk, but Ben loved his mom. And I loved that about him. If I ever had boys, I wanted them to respect me the same way.
After we pulled out of his long drive, I reached for the knob to turn on the radio but froze before turning my wrist. Then I slowly sat up and placed both hands on the steering wheel.
Ben didn’t hesitate before turning it on … all the way.
I flinched, fumbling with the knob to turn it off so it wouldn’t blow out the speakers in my car. When I shot him a scowl, he turned away, focusing out his window. Again, tears burned my eyes.
It wasn’t about me, and I resented my emotions for betraying my will to be strong. But witnessing the grief and the death of what felt like the essence of my best friend was too much for my immature heart to take.
Every time he rubbed or tugged at his ears, as if it were nothing more than water clogging them, a lump swelled in my throat. I would’ve given anything to take away his pain.
After finding a spot at the far end of the mall’s parking lot, I looped my arm around his and we headed inside. Ben’s gaze ping-ponged in all directions. Music played and the Salvation Army bell ringer chimed behind us. With two days until Christmas, it was packed. Armed with a pen and small spiral notepad, I wrote:
Who do you need to shop for?
He shrugged.
Everyone?
He nodded.
We weaved in and out of stores. I managed to find clothes for my mom and sisters and two new ties for my dad. Whenever I held up something for one of Ben’s parents or his sister, he just shrugged.
I frowned and made the executive decision on what to get.
After the presents were purchased, we grabbed lunch in the food court. No matter what I did or said, he looked miserable. As I sipped my drink, his gaze continued to survey our surroundings.
I thought I was a good kisser, but I think it’s just you.
I tapped his arm with my pen, drawing his attention to my notepad.
He read it and eyed me.
I bit my lower lip to control my grin, but it still wasn’t enough to get him to smile.
What we did over Thanksgiving—I want to do it again.
I felt an unavoidable blush, but he still remained straight-faced except his lips parted and he wet them.
Without clothes.
I didn’t care that everyone could see my red cheeks or that I needed to unbutton my jacket because just writing those words made me hot.
Ben narrowed his eyes a fraction and glanced over my shoulder returning a slight headshake.
I tried to hide my disappointment.
Did you not like it?
Again, he shrugged. I hated his stupid shrugs and dismissively quick glances.
Did he know how much I was putting myself out there for him? Exposing all my insecurities.
I have to use the restroom.
I scooted back in my chair, hiked my purse over my shoulder, and escaped before he could see my tears. After taking a few minutes in the stall to gain my composure, I washed my hands, and returned to the food court. But there was another couple at our table.
No Ben.
No bags.
I looked in both directions, but he was nowhere in sight. I headed in one direction until I reached the far end of the mall, then I walked in the other direction, scanning everywhere to find him. Panic gripped me. He couldn’t hear. Why did he leave me? Where did he go? How would he communicate with people if he needed to? I couldn’t even go to the information desk to see if they would announce his name because he couldn’t hear it.
People stared at me as I aimlessly darted in every direction wiping my tears. I had to call my mom or his mom. He was just gone.
As I waited in line for a payphone, wiping my tears, I looked out the glass entrance doors and there he was, leaned against the building with one leg propped up, the bags on the ground beside him, and his gaze pointed toward the parking lot.
“Why did you leave?” I yelled, on my way to him.
Ben startled when I grabbed his jacket and shook him. He narrowed his eyes.
“I was so scared. Why did you leave?”
He slowly shook his head, and I fumbled with my jacket to dig the pen and paper from my pocket.
Why did you leave? I was so scared!
He read my words then his gaze swept along my face before he wiped my tears.
“Sorry. A couple asked if they could have the table, so I figured you’d assume I was meeting you outside.”
“Well, I didn’t—” I sighed, stopping myself and writing it down.
Why would I assume that? Why not wait in the food court? I had no idea where you were!!!
Ben chuckled. I’d been trying all day to get him to smile, and my anguish is the thing that brought him joy?
I wiped my face with the back of my hands, grabbed all the bags, and stomped toward the parking lot, not giving a single glance behind me. If a car hit him, that was too bad. He caught up with me and tried to take the bags. I jerked away from him.
“Gabby?”
I picked up the pace and ignored him, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
“Gabby, I’m sorry.”
When I got to the car, I tossed the bags in the back seat.
Ben opened my door, but I shoved him.
“I can open my own door.” I no longer cared if he could hear me.