DAWN
Yes! Operation Good As New was working! I just might get through this anniversary without losing my mind.
I peeked across the table at Victor. He still looked so unbelievably handsome. It was hard to look at him directly without missing a few breaths. He wore one of those looks that were so popular these days, a short-sleeved black collared shirt with a dove-gray button-up vest. His tattoo sleeve made the outfit especially on-trend. Replace the ruthlessly sculpted hair with a man bun, and he’d be a shoo-in for the cover of Hipster Hottie magazine.
I guessed that this was as close as a guy like Victor got to a springtime look. But it was still sinister as hell. Which was why I could barely believe my plan was working.
When I’d come up with the plan to simply treat Victor like he was still the boy I knew in Japan as we were taking that death march out of the Young Souls daycare, I wasn’t sure it would work.
He’d been so cold when he showed up out of the blue. So bent on punishment, I wasn’t sure he’d let me joke my way into making us dinner. And don’t even get me started on him throwing away my expensive bottle of wine. I wouldn’t call alcohol a crutch exactly. But I’d been depending on it to get me through dinner with my openly hostile guest.
Luckily, Victor had finally relaxed, and now here we were, eating dinner across from each other, perfectly cozy.
Yes, sure, I was doing most of the talking. And, okay, he was barely responding when I asked him questions. So dinner conversation wasn’t exactly scintillating.
“How do you like living in the States?” I asked him between bites of bulgogi.
“Fine.”
“Are Han and Phantom over here with you, too?”
“Sometimes.”
“Where are you living in New York? The state or the city?”
Long pause as if I’d asked him a complicated math question. “The city,” he finally replied.
Seriously, it was like pulling teeth. But I took another glug of water that I wished was wine and kept on trying. “Cool, how do you like living there?”
“Same. Tokyo. Hong Kong.”
Wow, he’d gotten good at answering with just a minimum of signs. It made me want to ask him more complicated questions just to see if he could keep it going.
But I told myself to be grateful. At this point, I was pathetically happy that he was conversing with me and even sharing a meal. I knew eating in front of other people was a whole thing for him.
That had started out as an issue for us back when we were a couple. I’d noticed once that he never ate in front of me. And when he did, it was usually something like ice cream or soup—even when we went out for breakfast.
When I asked him to split an appetizer with me once during one of our secret dates, he’d agreed but had seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed. Like eating tako wasabi was a huge ordeal.
He’d chewed on the raw octopus covered in wasabi for so long. I’d been afraid that he actually hated the dish and had only agreed to order it because I’d asked.
The whole story came out when I told him he didn’t have to keep eating if he disliked tako wasabi that much.
“I have to be careful when eating this kind of food,” he’d confessed, his expression ashamed and embarrassed. Apparently, the chance of choking and/or gagging went up a whole lot of percentage points when you didn’t have most of your tongue.
He’d sheepishly apologized for how long it took him to chew each bite. “I hope this doesn’t disgust you.”
“Are you kidding?” I’d answered. “My mom would love you. She’s always telling me to chew my food more.”
We had laughed, the awkward moment navigated. It didn’t matter, I told myself. And after that, whenever Victor and I ate together, I tried to chew as many times as he did. I’d trained myself not to swallow until I saw his Adam’s apple bob. That was how crazy I’d been for him.
I was all grown up now, no longer a ridiculous high schooler swept up in first love. But sitting across from him, I fell into that learned habit. And as we chewed together, it almost felt like my plan was working. Like we were different, for sure, but close to good as new.
I found myself weirdly glad that Victor had decided to drop by for our first anniversary. His presence was a lot. I mean, it didn’t matter if he could talk or not. He filled my head with so much noise. I could barely concentrate on anything else, including that weird restless feeling that still hadn’t gone away. It was like an engine, constantly revving somewhere in my distance.
Having him here to fill up my evening instead of the usual post-dinner despondency almost made up for the bottle of wine he’d chucked.
Plus, it was really lovely to eat at a table, sitting across from someone as opposed to standing in the carport with Yaron, who’d insisted he wasn’t allowed to leave his post.
“Tell me about your job.”
I blinked. Whoa, was the silent beast starting a new topic of conversation himself? He still wasn’t using a whole lot of signs, and his face was mad cold and impassive. But hey, he was communicating. I’d take it.
“You know, it’s a job,” I answered and signed at the same time. “I like it. The kids are fun. And they let me teach them sign language twice a week—that’s why I’m not as rusty as I was a year ago. I’m also teaching the nursery kids baby sign language, and a few of them are actually using it. Especially when they’re hungry, oh, you should see it. It’s so crazy cute!”
He seemed to be listening intently to every word I said, just like when we were in high school. But then he asked, “What do your parents think of your new job?”
My heart stilled in my chest. And my signs were much less enthusiastic when I answered, “I um… haven’t told them I’m not in New York yet.”
His gaze continued to hold mine like a powerful magnet, refusing to let go. “What about the holidays?”
I shifted in my seat. An uncomfortable heat came over me as if there was a fire burning underneath my chair. “I…um told them I was going to my friend Lena’s house for the holidays.”
He cut his eyes to the side. “Your friend Lena who now lives in California. The one you never talk to anymore.”
A guilty pang went through me at the thought of how I’d ghosted Lena. But how did Victor know that I hadn’t been in communication with her? Was he tracking my phone?
Oh, who was I kidding? Of course, he was.
Not so lovely feelings about my situation rose inside of me. But I pushed them down, determined to make Operation Good As New a success.
“What did you think of dinner?” I asked, scrambling to change the subject. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.” Just one sign. No “thank you” included.
But again, progress. This was way better than him sitting across from me in the back of a Bentley, threatening to destroy my family if I didn’t accept his ten-year prison sentence.
I guess that’s why I raised my hands and started signing as I spoke again. “Thank you. This was nice for me. It’s been a little lonely here.”
More than a little, really. I didn’t realize how starved I’d been for company until he showed up.
Victor’s eyes flicked away, then came back to me. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I enjoyed dinner too. It was very informative.”
Wait, had he just told me he enjoyed our dinner together with more than a bare minimum of signs? My face split into a happy grin.
Victor stood up and held out one hand to me while signing with the other, “Come.”
My stomach flipped, releasing a ton of butterflies as I took his hand. But I couldn’t say I wasn’t excited for this part of the evening too.
I’d kept my nose in those books while I was at college. But unlike Lena, I also knew how to let my hair down when it came time to party.
My father had been right, not just about black guys but American ones in general. They didn’t mind some junk in the trunk, especially when it came to hooking up. I’d never made time for a serious boyfriend, but I’d gained a lot more experience since Victor. I enjoyed sex, and I’d come to expect it at least once or twice a semester.
But this past year, it’d only been me and the handheld “back massager” I’d picked up at Bed Bath & Beyond. I was more than ready to get it on with someone who didn’t buzz when he was taking care of me.
Had I been mad about him showing up out of the blue earlier? Now I was beginning to think that my absent husband just might be the wedding anniversary gift I’d been needing.
I was actually smiling as he led me back into the house and through the kitchen. I even called out a cheery good night to Yaron, who was standing in the living room door as we headed toward the stairs—
I stopped short, goosebumps suddenly breaking out across my skin.
Wait….Why was Yaron in the living room?
He’d always made a big deal about not coming into the house unless I needed help with something like carrying groceries. I almost always only made dishes that didn’t require a knife because those were impossible to eat standing up with Yaron in the driveway.
Besides, it was after eight. That was when the night guard I’d never formally met was supposed to come on duty.
So what was Yaron still doing here then?
The question lodged in my throat, and a bad feeling came over me just as Victor let go of my hand.
“Come, I want you to watch this,” he signed. His face was a work of stone above his hands.
Then he headed into the living room.
Leaving me, his possession, to follow.