A Perfect Mistake, page 10
“Might be nice. Your grandmother did tell me a lot of stories.”
The grin turned cocky. Then he stiffened. Rhonda and another woman with gray hair, who appeared a little older and a lot like Cassie, approached us. The torn black ribbon on the older woman’s shirt confirmed she was an immediate family member of Cassie’s, must be her daughter. “This is Mom’s case manager, Veronica,” Rhonda said.
I glanced at Cam for any reaction to the lack of signing from a family member and found none. I had a feeling I was about to understand Cassie’s complaints about the family more than I wanted to.
I stood, an uneasy twinge settling low on my spine. The Cassie look-alike turned to me. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did with Mom. She always spoke very highly of you. I know you made things easier. Cameron has always said how easy things were with elder services involved.” The Cassie look-alike signed as she spoke, a smile on her face as she glanced back and forth between Cam and me.
I glanced over at Cam, who’d also stood, a bit of color to his cheeks. “Come on, Aunt Kat, stop beating around the bush,” Cam voiced, no signs, placing one hand on my back, out of view from the others. He moved his fist in a slow circle and I pegged the sign: sorry. “You know what Grandma was always saying, and I know she was talking while at Hospice.”
Queasiness bloomed in my gut.
Kat laughed. “Oh yes, Matchmaker Cassandra,” she addressed me. “You’ll have to excuse my mother, that’s just the way she was. From the time I was sixteen she pointed out prospects for me.” Kat laughed. “Each one worse than the rest. I joke I married just to force her to stop.”
“She really was awful at setting up matches,” Rhonda began, her lack of signing grating on me like nails on a chalk board. “I’m much better.”
“Don’t you start.” Kat turned to Cam. “How did you deal with this from both your mother and grandmother?”
So Rhonda was mom. I had a bad feeling about this.
Cam moved his hand off me. “I tuned them both out and found my own dates.”
“And yet you followed your grandmother’s deathbed advice.” Kat smirked.
A lump formed in my throat. I hadn’t had a chance to mention to Cam what my role here should be, not that Cassie gave me much of a chance. I needed to find a way to diffuse this problem, but all my thoughts ran blank.
Rhonda shifted to her son. “So that new relationship your brother was picking on you about?”
Cam nodded, the hand signing sorry once again on my back. I bit my lip, a wide-eyed doe taking in everything and doing nothing in self-perseverance.
Kat smiled at me. “You made a dying woman very happy.”
The conversation soon swayed in other directions, but I caught Rhonda scrutinizing me, and not with a friendly expression. Landmine partial explosion: check.
*****
I tugged Cam down a hallway and stopped once we were far enough out of view that any signers wouldn’t understand us. “What the hell was that?” I asked, all my nerves coming out more as anger than fear.
Cam rubbed my arms, as though he understood. Scarily, I suspected he did. “I’m sorry. Sarah asked where you were before the funeral, and I had to keep her at bay. I tried to describe the truth to my brother but there wasn’t time.”
I placed my head against the wall. “Of course.”
Cam eyed me, those dark eyes always full of knowledge. “I can set things straight, but it will ruin your attempt at helping me with Sarah. And turn my mother into a matchmaker again.” He stuck out his bottom lip an inch. Instead of appearing sweet and innocent I wanted to bite it. Hard. Then soothe the sting with my tongue. “Help keep them out of my love life, at least for a short while?”
One of these days I’d be able to resist this man. Maybe. I studied the way the hall light created a shadow on the side of his nose. Probably not. “Fine, but—”
My hands ended up squashed between us when he kissed me, and my knees weakened to putty. I gripped the lapel of his suit coat, kissing him back with everything I’d been trying so hard to bottle up.
He stepped back, allowing much needed cool air between us.
I struggled to catch my breath. “Why did you do that?”
A small smile quirked his lips. “Just keeping up appearances.”
Dammit. He had a point. And I’d do it again if it made him smile.
Chapter 11
Cam
Nica had handed me a plate filled with food before leaving for the bathroom. The food had the appearance of sawdust, and I was grateful she wasn’t here while I picked at it. The kids ran around the room, but mostly up and down the stairs to the basement, where the XBOX 360 was set up. The adults stood in small groups talking, a sea of black with little to differentiate between individuals. Hands held plates, or cups, or hung limp. Mouths moved. No one signed. I was tired and my head hurt from the constant lip-reading. Each mouth I focused on was the equivalent of trying to lip-read a puppet.
I sat alone, realizing what had always gone on around me and my grandparents. Inaccessible communication. There was no one left in my world.
Made the hole that much bigger, that degree stronger.
I managed to eat a third of the plate by the time Nica returned, a splash of blond hair against all the dark tones. A welcome contrast to all the people ignoring me. Or was that people I was ignoring? Hard to tell. She made her way over, joining me on the couch. A slight dip in the cushion and my mood shifted to a happier state. She held my hand, a thumb rubbing over my knuckles. People continued to chat around us. Nica studied the crowd and then turned to me.
“Tell me your favorite story about your grandma.”
I caught her eyes, surprised that she understood what I wanted: to remember the deceased.
“I was eight when Ben went off to college. Dan had already been gone for two years, and now it was just me and my parents at home. I was lonely and isolated and stuck without communication. I complained to my grandmother, and she picked me up one Saturday, brought me to a Deaf event. I can’t even remember what the event was for. I remember feeling at home. My grandmother made sure to ask each person we met what their childhood was like. I heard so many stories of not communicating with parents, or forbidden signs, stories from adults comfortable in who they were. On the way home my grandmother told me her own stories. Up until then she had only shared with me the good, now she shared the bad, an almost mirror image to my home life. And I knew I could survive.”
Nica brushed away a tear.
“Your turn,” I said.
Nica leaned back, one finger tapping her lip. A smile soon worked its way over her face. She glanced around then leaned in.
“About four years ago I had been dating this guy for a while. My nosey Deaf clients knew because they pried the information out of me.”
A strong jealous twitch threatened to crawl up my spine. Not a sensation I was used to.
“When we broke up I saw Cassie first. Before I could even open up my papers she forced the story out of me. She then took my paperwork from me and told me all about meeting your grandfather, how sometimes the right person comes along and you need to fight for it.” Nica’s brown eyes burned into mine. Her cheeks reddened. She angled herself so only I could see her hands. “Then she pulled out your picture.”
She leaned back, searching my eyes. Cheeks still red. “I, of course, grabbed my paperwork and got us back on track. For the next ten minutes she answered every question with facts about you.” Nica shook her head.
The smile stretched across my face. “I think she’s very happy right now.”
“No, she’s pissed we didn’t listen.” Nica pointed at my plate, still two-thirds full. “Eat. You’ve barely touched any of the food.”
I stared at the plate with disinterest. “I had some food before you showed up.” I contemplated it, at least. The day was such a blur I had no idea if I’d managed to eat or not.
Nica narrowed her eyes. “And I’ve been here for a while. Eat.”
I dug my fork into a piece of pasta. “Yes ma’am,” I vocalized, before taking the bite.
Nica laughed. “Oh please, I work with M-A’A-M’s, I’m still a baby at thirty-one.”
One side of my mouth curved upwards. “I’m thirty and my mother did teach me to respect my elders.”
Nica stole a carrot from my plate. “A year doesn’t make me an elder. Don’t fight elder age games with an elder service case manager, you will lose every time.”
I kept my head down. “Yes ma’am,” I muttered. Or I thought I muttered. I dared a peek through my eyelashes and saw a slight smile on her face. Muttering accomplished.
“You don’t get along well with your family.”
I shrugged. “I’m different, Deafness not included. I’m ten years younger than my middle brother, and he’s younger than our cousins. Mom went back to work when Ben started school. I was a surprise and she was enjoying her career. So Grandma agreed to watch me. For the life of me I can’t figure out how they came to that arrangement. It certainly worked for the better when my hearing loss was discovered.”
“Your parents really don’t sign,” Nica said to herself more than me.
“Not one word.” I’d been told Dad knew some signs once upon a time, if not able to express himself he at least understood his parents. Meanwhile I couldn’t even use the alphabet with him.
“Why don’t you sign to your mother?”
“To prevent WWIII.” I laughed but Nica didn’t smile. “She feels ASL is a crutch and forced me to speak.” I contemplated telling her of my hands being taped behind my back but thought better of it.
“Your brothers?”
I glanced around but they had to be in a different room. “They sign. They already knew some ASL from my grandparents, then both kept at it when I was born. My grandparents told them how important ASL was for me. They used to hide with me in our rooms, signing with me, teaching me.” I still remembered those days. The afternoon light shining into the room as my brothers taught me everything from the alphabet to division to Shakespeare. I learned how to read from their textbooks and homework. “I missed them when they went to college.”
“I’m sure you did.” Her eyes traveled to the table. “You finally ate.”
I followed her gaze to my empty plate. “I guess I was hungry.”
“Told you.”
She collected my plate and moved it towards the large trash setup near the kitchen. Her curly hair brushed against her shoulders, contrasting against the dark jacket. Her black skirt molded to her curves, curves I knew by touch and taste—gazing at her stirred more enjoyable emotions than I had all day. I had the sudden desire to get the pity out of her eyes. I hadn’t been searching for this, never wanted to risk losing myself in a relationship. But I couldn’t deny Nica didn’t feel like she would manipulate and control like my mother. Nica felt like, well, what my grandmother claimed. A dying woman’s last wish. I owed it to her to at least consider it. It wouldn’t go anywhere, not yet, but she was fun to tease, fun to be around, especially after the day I had. When she returned, I spoke. “Yes ma’am.”
Nica’s eyes widened. “What did you—” She paused when she saw me, eyes traveling to my lips. I’d convince myself it was the smile, but she lingered, heat shining in those dark eyes of hers. Fate had an interesting way of handling things. Took my grandmother. Gave me Nica.
“You tease,” she finally finished.
“Guilty.” I lowered my hands, resisting the urge to reach for her. To kiss her. Wrong place, wrong time.
“I should have known. Your grandmother was a big teaser; of course her grandson would be the same.” Nica joined me on the couch again.
“Grandma’s favorite trick, or perhaps it was mine, was hiding my hearing aids when I was a kid. They did almost nothing to help me, so we made it a game.” I laughed at the memory. “We played hide and seek with them, but we often left the batteries in. Made it really easy for my brothers to win when they played, due to the sounds they made.”
“I guess I don’t need to tell you the time she somehow managed to get one of your pictures into my paperwork. She didn’t even look perturbed when I brought it back.”
I laughed again, even if a bit shocked at the extent my grandmother went to try to get us together. Not that I really had any reason to be surprised. Nica understood. She understood me and my grandmother, and even if just for the night, I was glad she came.
*****
Nica
I stayed with Cam until his two nephews ran over, yelling, “Uncle Cam, Uncle Cam,” their suitcoats flapping behind them. I cringed, expecting them to continue speaking once they arrived. They didn’t. They signed, begging Cam to help them with the XBOX. Cam hesitated but I sent him off, the boys jumping up and down and each tugging on a hand as they left.
The room grew airy and cold. I tried not to feel awkward. I was the only person who wasn’t family. Like Cam, I was all but ignored and I couldn’t blame them. I was surrounded by people I knew only from the bits and pieces of stories from Cassie. Not all of them pleasant. I did my best not to focus on the unpleasant tales and found myself smiling when happy shouts of “Cam’s here” echoed from downstairs.
I struggled to keep my smile when Rhonda walked over. The tight-lipped grimace on her face telegraphed bitch. She wore pressed black pants, a white shirt, and a black jacket. She settled in next to me, her movements indicating a desire not to create a single wrinkle. “You’re dating Cam.”
I didn’t know what to do with that sentence. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t friendly either. And thanks to the Sarah situation I couldn’t correct her. Not that I wanted to with her attitude, much.
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
More than a conflict. I had to find some way to diffuse the situation without causing issues for Cam. Time to deal with the shrapnel from landmine number one. Remember, honesty is the best policy. “Yes. I was embarrassed when I realized who Cam was. The bottom line is that neither Cam nor I realized who each other was before meeting at Cassie’s door.”
“I see,” Rhonda muttered, her tight-lipped glare increasing.
I mustered up the rest of my strength. “I’m sorry if this is unsettling for you. I’ve wrestled with the complications. There’s something very special about Cam. Your mother-in-law was very excited about us.” And you should know your own son is special.
I caught her eye. The blues remained crystal cold and threatened to shoot frozen daggers. “I’m only going to say this once so listen well. I don’t let just anyone date one of my sons, especially disabled ones. There is a standard to be met, and I expect it to be met. A social worker is not that standard.”
I blinked. Of all the possible responses I wasn’t expecting that. I clenched my hand into a tight fist. “I believe it’s up to Cam who he dates, not you.” What I wanted to say was not appropriate for a Shiva house. Heck, it wasn’t appropriate anywhere. Did Rhonda really see her Deaf son as disabled? “The person you chose can’t even communicate with him. What type of relationship is that?”
“I see then.” She stood up, again cautious not to disturb a single fiber on her suit, and walked away.
I placed my head in my hands and focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out. Calm the racing pulse. Was this woman for real?
A few minutes later a hand touched my back. I jumped at the contact before the warmth penetrated, letting me know it was Cam and not Rhonda. I raised my head.
“You OK?” he asked.
I knew a white lie was appropriate here, but I also knew nothing I said would surprise him. “Your mother really doesn’t approve.” Still, I couldn’t, wouldn’t share the rest of what was said.
He rubbed my back. “That’s Mom. You could be everything she would handpick for me, and she still would find a fault. Don’t take it to heart.”
Well, at least we both agreed I wasn’t going to be handpicked. But it made me wonder what fault she would find in Sarah, or if that was the proverbial unicorn exception.
“She did handpick someone.”
Cam glanced around before leaning into me. “Someone I’m not interested in. Never have been with any of her non-signing dates. Same with my brothers. We’ve never humored her enough to see her turn on her own picks. The only person I’m interested in right now is you.”
My pulse pressed hard against my neck, all but pushing my hair aside. I didn’t know what to say. Staying away from this man demanded all my strength. And I was tired. I wanted to curl up with him and let my guard down.
Not yet. Not while surrounded by my former client’s family. But the crack in my willpower had solidified. Cam shifted, his island scent luring me to him. I could claim we were just friends as much as I wanted to, but it wouldn’t last.
My morals were screwed.
*****
Cam
Due to the late night, and another day left of sitting Shiva, Nica allowed me to spend the night. I did my best to stay out of her hair, my head bent over my phone, handling a few work emails. More than likely confusing people thanks to the pesky “out of office” message Matt had set up. Work didn’t wait, not even for bereavement.
Nica moved about in the kitchen in curve-hugging yoga pants and a matching tank top that had my blood pumping. I tugged at my collar, grateful to be out of my tie and down a few more buttons than decent, and kept my eyes on my phone. Work. It had always been my escape, now it would keep me from what I couldn’t have.
I sent another email when my phone was ripped out of my hand. Nica dropped it on the other end of the couch as she set down an apple pie in front of me.
“I wasn’t finished with that,” I signed.
“You are now.” She dug a fork into the pie. “It’s store bought, not my favorite but it’ll do.”
