“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.
