Page 37 of Sinful Abandon

Everyone starts banging on the table, like drummers. The movements make the table bounce.

Nancy blows on the dice, says a prayer to some saint, and then rolls them onto the middle of the table.

“L!” Ryan screams.

Everyone throws their hands up and yells.

“You won,” he says, his hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

I won a grand total of thirty-three dollars, but they’re applauding like I won the lottery.

When I look back at Ryan, his face is full of happiness. A simple happiness for my simple win. A huge smile breaks out on my face at the sight of him.

We decide to stay for another hour. I talk to some of Ryan’s cousins, who are curious about the show we work on and how they can get into television, and Ryan’s aunt, who wants to travel to New York and asked for restaurant recommendations. Every once in a while, I find myself looking over toward Ryan, who is playing with younger cousins or talking to a neighbor. Each time I look his way, he instinctually lifts his head and gives me a smile.

On a swing in the backyard, Jenny and Fred Pierson are sitting and swaying. Fred’s arm is around Jenny. Her hands are holding both of his, one on her shoulder and the other on his lap. Her head is leaning into his shoulder as they look out onto the yard filled with friends and family. They’re not talking. They are just two people sitting in complete silence, enjoying the warmth of each other’s touch.

Jenny sees me watching her and Fred. She rises and walks over to where I’m standing. She gently asks the cousins to leave, but Maria stays behind.

“I want to talk to you without my son watching. He’s a nosy bastard,” Maria says for Jenny. Then, Maria adds on, “I agree.”

I smile and then look toward Jenny as she uses her hands to form meaningful words.

“I met Fred at school, here in Chicago. We were the only two deaf kids in a building of a thousand students. When we met, I wasn’t hoping to fall in love. I just wanted a friend. And I got that from him. To be able to speak without outside influence, just listening to what the other is saying, you get to know a person more intimately than ever.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling on the sides. “Many people look at the deaf community as if we have a disability. But what they don’t see is our ability to love deeper than imaginable. When Fred places his hand in mine, I feel his pulse racing through his veins. When he holds me, I can feel his breath on my skin in a way most people ignore. To love is not just to go through the motions. It’s to feel every emotion. If you don’t have that with the one you’re with, then you’re missing out on the greatest gift this life has to offer.”

A love as she describes, the way she has with her husband, sounds amazing. Beautiful. Unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed in my lifetime. A love I know I’ll never feel.

“Thank you, Jenny. That was lovely. You are a lucky woman.”

“Are you?” she asks, using her voice. “Does the man you love make you feel that way?”

The man I love? If she means Jarrod, then she has a different idea of the relationship we share.

“I was never looking for love,” I answer honestly. “Where I come from, security is more important. What he offers me is exactly what I want.”

Jenny’s face falls, showing she is disappointed in my answer. “That is what you want. But is it what you need?”

I don’t know what I need. I always thought, if I had financial security, I wouldn’t need anything.

I look to Maria, who is waiting for my reply, but I don’t have one. And, when I look over to the side, I see Ryan walking toward us, his eyes on mine. Without uttering a single word, we exchange a glance that says we’re both ready to get out of here.

Suddenly, my needs and wants are becoming quite blurry.

I’ve been escorted in Bentleys and private jets, taken to the most luxurious places in the world.

Right now, on the back of a Kawasaki Ninja, I am more at peace than I have been in my entire life.

Wearing one of Ryan’s Northeastern sweatshirts and a helmet, I’m sitting high on the back of the bike, my body huddled around his. We are driving back toward the Chicago Loop. I dig my fingers into the seams of his shirt, my fingers tracing along the curve of his abs through the fabric. When we stop at a red light, he places a hand on my thigh and runs small circles on my soft skin.

We pull up in front of a restaurant. Ryan helps me off first and then follows.

“Pizza?”

He takes his helmet off and has an adorable case of helmet hair. “It was that or sushi,” he teases.

I take off my helmet. My hair is probably sticking up in crazy directions, like his. I lean back and shake it out, like I’m in a Pantene commercial. Bringing my head back up, I’m rewarded with the Pierson grin I look forward to seeing.

I grab his hand and pull him toward the entrance. “Come on, show me what’s so great about your stuffed pizza.”