Page 106 of A Good Book

I jackknifed to sitting, forcing him to sit back on his heels. Then I hopped off the bed and pulled on my underwear and sweats. In the next breath, I opened the door and signed, “Thank you. Go away.”

Ben remained on his knees, eyeing me with a smirk. When I kept a straight face, he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and stood. That made me blush again, but I didn’t give away anything else. He stopped at the door, regarding me while I kept my gaze pointed at his chest.

“You’re welcome,” he said and sauntered down the hallway.

I shut the door before he had the chance to glance back at me.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

CHICAGO, “I DON’T WANT TO LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LOVE”

Ben

Both Jason and Chris,the resident assistant, were cool with me crashing in my old dorm room while I ironed things out with Gabby, which I thought I did when I made her orgasm. It wasn’t my intention. I wanted to feel our baby. The last thing I thought would happen, well, it happened. It was like she knew what she wanted. I only reacted to her subtle gestures and nudges.

And just when I thought she couldn’t surprise me more, she kicked me out.

However, that wasn’t the most impressive part. In a matter of days, rule-follower Gabriella Jacobson, the pastor’s favorite daughter, did it four more times. I delivered healthy snacks or a book on pregnancy every day, but on the days she was there, she reclined on her bed, lifting her shirt for me to feel her belly.

I kissed it and talked to our baby. Then it led to me on my knees, servicing her, followed by her booting me out. She wrote no notes. The only words spoken or written were mine. Except she did her usual sign language when opening the door for me to leave.

After a trip to the library to get as many books on ASL as I could find, I learned those signs: Thank you. Go away.

The revelation made me laugh because every time I said “You’re welcome,” thinking the least she could have done was offer a thank-you. And the whole time, that’s what she’d been doing.

I felt used in the best way and sad because there were so many questions I had, insecurities eating me alive, and fear unlike anything I had ever experienced. But I couldn’t let her see any of that. Gabby was innocent, and I took that from her. She was the first Jacobson daughter to attend college, and I derailed her plans. Yet, despite all of that, she loved me.

She never gave up on me.

I owed her more than I had to give, but I knew I’d die trying. Of course, I only had four days left to make things right. My parents were uneasy with me driving back to Ann Arbor by myself. But I told them I wanted to visit my friends, including Gabby. And two weeks was the longest I could take off work without losing my job.

With chicken noodle soup, extra crackers, and some sort of lotion to prevent stretch marks, I knocked on her door.

She answered, making her usual face where she pressed her lips together to keep from showing any sort of pleasure over my presence. The mother of my child took my breath away in her black leggings and yellow sweater that hung off one shoulder.

After my heart skipped a beat, I handed her the two bags and sat on her bed while she inspected my gifts. She uncapped the stretch mark cream and applied it to her belly. That made me grin even though she wouldn’t look at me. Then, as though I wasn’t there, she sat at her desk and ate every drop of soup and all the crackers.

After stuffing all the trash into the bag, she looked at me. Even if the timing was all wrong, pregnancy looked good on Gabby. I understood what people meant when they said pregnant women had a glow about them. My best friend was beautiful, but I’d always known that.

Gabby got that look in her eyes and moseyed toward the bed, but before she could sit down, I signed, “I’m not here to lick your kitty.”

She wrinkled her nose and signed, “What?”

I spelled each word, in case she didn’t understand,andI wanted to show her how good I was at signing the alphabet.

When pink filled her cheeks, I knew she got it.

“Where did you learn that?” she signed.

Aside from the alphabet and a few phrases I practiced for that moment, I couldn’t sign much else or understand everything she signed.

“I just started. You have to cut me some slack. Can you do that? Can you continue to write things down until I learn this better?” I asked.

The indecision in her eyes made my heart sink. I still hadn’t fully digested the news. Gabby was pregnant. We were having a baby. I tried to feign confidence, but I was terrified. After I lost my hearing, I immediately wanted my mom. How was I supposed to raise a child when I still felt like one?

Gabby sat at her desk and wrote on a notepad.

Why are you learning ASL?

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