Abby had warned him that he would need all the blankets and the duvet as well. Her mother and father both liked it cool at night, even in winter, and they kept the upstairs of the house at a lower temperature. When the game ended, she announced her intention to go to bed. Nick agreed that he’d had a long day too, which wasn’t exactly true, since it was two hours earlier for him, but there was no way he was staying in that room without Abby. The folks had toned down the questioning after dinner, but who knew what they would come up with if they had him alone!
Abby offered to make them hot chocolate. Nick followed her into the kitchen, where she explained that she liked to take a mug of it to bed with her. It helped keep her warm until her body heat warmed up the bed.
They walked up the stairs together, each carrying a mug of hot liquid. Nick wondered about hugging her but it was too awkward. He didn’t want to spill anything. Abby said ‘goodnight’ at her door.
“Goodnight,” replied Nick, “See you in the morning. And Abby…?”
She stepped back out of the doorway of her sitting room. “Yes?”
“I’m having a good time.”
“Me too,” she smiled and then disappeared from view.
Nick thought the hot chocolate was a good idea. He undressed down to his boxers and pulled on a t-shirt. He slipped between the sheets and rubbed his feet back and forth in them until it got warm. He finished the drink and settled down into the bed.
He was having a good time, he thought. He was so comfortable with Abby. They knew each other so well. People would think that was weird, he guessed, saying that you knew someone so well that you’d only actually spent one week with, and that was six months ago. But it was true.
Nick thought about John and Sharon Fremont. They weren’t the ogres that Abby made them out to be, but he could see where she was coming from. She needed to get out of this house, get away from them. He was glad he had suggested it. She needed to be more independent. He was happy to think that he might have played a part in her coming out of herself, making herself over…not just the outside, but inside too.
And Nick was proud of his behavior so far. These people had class, lots of it. They weren’t stuffy about it…well, yeah, they kind of were a bit…especially Abby’s mom…but they were nice. They didn’t flaunt their money, even though it was obvious they had lots of it. Nick didn’t know what he was expecting…tuxedos and tiaras, or something…
He drifted off to sleep comparing the Fremonts to the Carters. The Fremonts were certainly quieter, that was for sure! Thanksgiving Day at the Carters used to be loud and boisterous with re-enactments of the football plays taking place in the yard and sometimes even in the living room. Everything here just seemed so much…quieter. Of course, there were fewer people and they were all adults…except maybe him. No, thought Nick as he drifted away, even he was an adult in this setting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby stayed up later than Nick. After she said goodnight to him, she changed into her nightclothes and sat down at the computer to put her new thoughts down in her notes. Every keystroke sounded like a gunshot to her. When she tried to type quietly, she lost her train of thought. Eventually, she gave up and started to write in longhand.
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. All that showed of her was her head and her arm, as she wrote on the pad of paper. Eventually, she stopped because her hand got cold. She dropped the pad of paper on the floor and turned off the light.
Today was a good day, she thought. I really didn’t have any reason to worry. Nick still likes me and I still like him. Good job, because it would have been a very long weekend, otherwise. And he looks good. He looks really good. In shape, I mean. Of course, he’s lost nearly thirty pounds. That has to make a difference.
It’s funny, was her final thought before sliding down into sleep, we both look really different…and I am different… he was right, we were good for each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Nick squirmed down into the bed. He didn’t want to get up yet. He knew that it was going to be chilly out there. The clock on the nightstand said 8:05. He didn’t know if that was early or late in Fremont World. He didn’t hear anyone else moving around, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe five more minutes before he went back out there.
Nick had felt all the same fears as Abby. He worried that they wouldn’t like each other in person. He hoped that wouldn’t be true because they were too far into this story to back out now, at least without hurting one and maybe both of them.
Nick was relieved at how good she was looking. He felt guilty for that relief. Her physical appearance shouldn’t make any difference, but it did. He knew that he would have been embarrassed to take the first Abby he had met out in public. Now he was hoping for a photo op.
He made a note to take her some place this weekend where he would be recognized. Shopping on Thanksgiving weekend should do the trick. He laughed to himself at the irony of actually wanting a picture of himself to show up on the Internet. It would legitimize the relationship once and for all.
Because it was working. It was working for him and it was working for Abby. Even though he had seen the picture of her, he couldn’t believe the difference in her appearance…in her style. She had described it all to him over the last month, but to actually see it…wow! There was something else though, something inside that was different. She had more confidence, better self-esteem. He guessed that went hand-in-hand with the physical changes. He knew he felt better about himself now that he was getting the weight under control. He grimaced. Too much more of Mrs. Smith’s cooking, though, and he’d be right back where he started.
Okay, up and at ‘em. Nick threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Shit! It was cold. He grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants and pulled them on. Then he grabbed his toiletry kit and opened his bedroom door. He peered around the corner. The hall was empty. He raced into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. It was warm in the bathroom, he found with relief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Abby heard the shower turn on. She looked at her watch. 8:15. Not bad. She had risen at her usual early hour of 6:00. She’d showered and dressed for the day. She made tea in her sitting room and settled down with her story. She crossed out some lines and wrote more on the back, putting stars and arrows to indicate where the changes would go. Damn! It was so much easier on the computer.
Abby heard her parents tiptoe down the stairs at 7:30. She smiled to herself. They liked Nick, she knew they did. What’s not to like, after all? Abby sighed. Her mother would have a list. Abby would hear all about it on Sunday after Nick left. There’d be a million tiny quibbles. Abby thought maybe she’d answer them all with a dreamy smile and see if that would put a stop to it.
She stepped into the hall when she heard the bathroom door open.
“Good morning,” she said softly.
“Hey,” said Nick. “Am I up at a good time or am I a sleepyhead?”
“No, you’re perfect,” said Abby. “Get dressed and we’ll go down to breakfast.” She heard a sound at the bottom of the stairs. “Get out of this hall,” she whispered, “before my mother gets a load of those tattoos.”
Nick laughed and ducked into his room. Abby thought it was odd. She’d never really liked tattoos, but somehow this time, she had a strange desire to run her fingers over them. She shrugged and went back to her room to wait for Nick.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Do I have to know anything for this?” asked Nick nervously. They were in the car on the way to the Hearing Society Bazaar. It was being held in the parish hall of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church.
“Are you referring to general information or sign language?” said Abby with a smile. “There won’t be a pop quiz, if that’s what you mean.”
Nick made a face and stuck his tongue out at her. “Smartass,” he countered.
Abby explained that she would be signing and talking at the same time. She would also be signing his words if they were involved in a conversation with a non-hearing person. And she would be signing what they said as she spoke the words to him.
“Man, I’m keeping my hands in my pockets,” said Nick. “I don’t want to say something rude by mistake.”
Abby laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Just don’t insult the kids by thinking their signing is ‘cute’.”
“Okay,” said Nick. “Can we go shopping after this? I need to get some kind of gift for your parents. Maybe I can find something at the bazaar.”
Abby roared. “Yes, let’s find the tackiest snowman pot holders we can find for her.”
“Hey, knock it off! I’m trying to stay in her good books, remember!” chuckled Nick.
Abby lifted her right hand from the steering wheel. She held it like a fist in front of her facing her and then stuck out her index and middle finger. “Do this.” Nick copied the movement. Then Abby raised her fist so that it was facing forward and lifted her little finger. “Do this.” Nick did.
“Now do them both, one after the other.”
Nick made the movement. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s ‘hi’. The first sign is an ‘h’ and the second one is ‘i’. Do them quickly, as one motion.” She showed him.
Nick copied her movements. “Hi,” he said. “Hi…hi…hi…” He flipped his fingers back and forth. “Cool.”
“Now, you have something to say to everyone,” said Abby.
“I’ll probably be too nervous to do it, though,” he replied. “I’ll mess up somehow. Those signs aren’t close to anything…inappropriate, are they? Like, I might insult somebody by mistake?”
“No, Nick, it’s just ‘hi’. And don’t be nervous. It’s just another language. Pretend they’re speaking French.”
Nick laughed. “I am so bad at languages. You should see when we do a Spanish song or something. I get a lot of background ‘doo-wahs’.”
“Okay, here we are,” said Abby, pulling into the parking lot.
Nick got out of the car and shoved his hands firmly into the pockets of his leather jacket, closing his fingers around the talisman he kept there. He wasn’t saying anything, not even ‘hi’. He wanted to watch and observe. He wanted to see Abby in her world.
