A Perfect Mistake, page 6
Cam didn’t flinch. “Yes. Her idea, but communicating with you is easier than playing guessing games with mouth patterns.”
Introductions were made, and I learned Grant was Cam’s friend and had been since they were in college together. The way Grant joked and teased, he appeared to be very much like Lexie, and it came as little surprise the easy comradery passing between them. Which made this feel more like a double date than an innocent business meeting.
I buried my face in my menu, reading each word twice and still not comprehending. I needed to get a grip on myself, and fast. Cam put his menu down and leaned closer. “You OK?” His warm eyes offered comfort like the hazelnuts they resembled, all dangerously sweet and irresistible.
I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
He settled his elbows on the table, leaving very little space between us. “Liar.”
“One night and you think you know me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know why, or how, but, yes, I know something is bothering you.” He leaned back. “Then again, it could be your concerns over being here.”
The cliff between professional dinner and date threatened to throw me over the edge. Never had anyone understood me that quickly, mostly because I didn’t want anyone to. “I thought you needed help?” I signed quickly.
“I do. I was enjoying the distraction.”
I didn’t dare make eye contact with Lexie as the waitress approached our table with her head in her notepad and began rattling off specials. I was prepared to interpret, but I didn’t have to. Cam either followed the waitress or didn’t care. When she finally turned to him he spoke his order. His deep, gravelly voice was surprisingly clear for his hearing loss. The waitress paused, not writing anything down. As clear as Cam’s voice was, it was still obvious he was deaf. Cam lowered his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak again, but the waitress snapped out of her haze and wrote on her notepad, collected the rest of our orders, and left.
“Friendly,” Grant signed, his face full of sarcasm.
I laughed.
“Is that normal?” Lexie asked.
Grant rocked a hand back and forth. “Depends on the day, the mood, and whether we speak. Once I speak, forget it, they assume I’m hearing.”
They continued chatting, but Cam turned to me. “Where did you learn ASL?”
I wanted to ask a similar question about his speech. It wasn’t normal, especially for a man with Deaf grandparents. “My childhood neighbor was Deaf. I picked up signs interacting with her and then took formal classes while in college, minoring in Deaf Studies. Does the rest of your family sign?” I unfolded my napkin and placed it on my lap.
Cam hesitated and rested his elbows on the table. “Depends. My aunts remember enough. Their husbands and kids learned some. My brothers are skilled but Grandma raised me. I was the youngest and my mom went back to work. So Grandma watched me and gave me my language.”
I read between the lines, and the crease between Cam’s eyebrows. And I hated it. More so because the confirmation would invest me more fully into him, and I was already in danger of straddling the line from the wrong side.
“What about your parents?”
“Dad never really learned ASL; he was the youngest and his sisters handled the communication. My mother,” he said, rubbing out a kink in his neck, “never approved of ASL. She feels oral is best, and Dad didn’t do anything to stop her.”
Hard to stay detached now.
“That’s awful,” I signed before I could stop myself. Poor Cam couldn’t communicate with his parents unless he spoke their language. I imagined his childhood wasn’t an easy one. “Thank God you had your grandmother.”
The stress vacated his shoulders, landing somewhere far away in the dim restaurant. He held my eyes captive with his own, electricity pulsing between us. I had the sudden urge to curl up inside those hazel depths, and the scarier thought he’d let me. Crap, definitely moving into date territory. I tried to remember we weren’t alone, but Lexie and Grant were lost in their own conversation.
Cam resumed signing. “Grandma wants to see you again. But a warning, she’s in matchmaker mode.”
My cheeks flushed. “She always tried. I distracted her with work.”
“I didn’t have any work to distract her with. Instead I had to listen to her pleas. I’m the youngest of the grandkids, and the only one single. She’s been on my case for years.”
“Same as your mother.” Grant leaned forward, still using both languages. I had all but tuned out the other voices at our table and nearly startled. “She thinks he needs to settle down.”
Cam shoved Grant’s shoulder. “She thinks I need to be taken care of. Grandma wants me to be happy.” Cam copied Grant’s communication style, using both languages.
“True. But if you start dating someone, maybe your mother will back off.”
“That didn’t work for my brothers. And I stopped living my life according to my mother when I was still a kid.”
“Parents are overrated anyways,” Lexie said, the only one of us speaking-only. “Sounds like your mother is a bit of an asshole, no offense.”
“Grade A asshole,” Grant confirmed, and the two went back to their own conversation.
A light flashed on our table, vibrating across the wood grains. Cam read the message lit up on his screen.
“Oh good,” he said, putting it away. His shoulders relaxed and he faced me. “Sorry, text message. My parents live in Florida. They were downplaying this whole situation. I threatened to buy their plane tickets for them. Somehow common sense prevailed, and they booked a flight up. I think they would have preferred Grandma to give them her date of death in advance so they could prepare.” Cam rolled his eyes, and I knew he was the one handling everything. It weighed on his shoulders, in the depths of his eyes. It blurred the lines further, breaking my resolve, human need eclipsing every rational thought in my head. His hand rested on the table, and I reached over and grabbed it. The fuse from the first night sparked to life at the simple touch, seeping into my veins.
“Sorry you’re dealing with this alone,” I signed one-handed.
He shrugged, his eyes drifting to our intertwined hands. “Your family messed up?”
His thumb had started stroking mine, slow and smooth, reminding me of that night, the bar, and everything that came next. Reminding me I played with fire. I snatched my hand back. “My parents divorced when I was five.”
Cam furrowed his thick eyebrows.
“Don’t worry, they had the perfect divorce. I grew up with two parents that loved me and were friends with each other.”
“No stepparents?”
“Nope, neither remarried.” I didn’t view divorce as a bad thing. It wasn’t. My parents taught me marriage didn’t always last. And that was okay. I did my best to end my relationships like they did, parting as friends. It didn’t always work, life and human emotions not always going according to plan, but thus far I’d avoided any big dramatic ending.
Cam fiddled with the metallic saltshaker. “What do I expect from here?”
I studied his face, wondering how much he could handle, but I didn’t know him well enough to make an appropriate assessment. Through e-mail I didn’t have to gauge a reaction. I opted to go with the simple, gentle, truth. “She’ll get weaker, more medicated. They’ll take good care of her.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “She still seems so alive.”
“She’s a fighter, she’s going to go down kicking and thrashing.” We both let out a small chuckle.
Cam caught my eyes, his own deep and solemn. “I can’t do this alone.”
Moisture built in my eyes, and I had to blink in quick succession to keep it from leaking over. My heart ached enough over the thought of losing Cassie, but seeing Cam’s pain did me in. It shattered through me. I held his gaze and signed, “You don’t have to.”
*****
Cam
At the end of the meal we stood outside in the crisp night air. Grant and Lexie clearly playing wingpeople as they were still inside, checking out the beer menu, even though I knew damn well Grant wasn’t drinking another. The yellow streetlights picked up the lighter tones of Nica’s hair. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over. Regardless of my desire to stay unattached, I enjoyed Nica’s company. With all the stress and shit in my life, I’d take whatever enjoyment I could get.
“Thank you for meeting with me.” I stood close, the narrow sidewalk allowing me to intrude on her personal space. Her full lips called to me. One touch and all my troubles would be forgotten. Not going there. “I needed this and it was nice seeing you again—” I smirked “—sober and without any burst pipes.”
“You had two beers, I wouldn’t be so sure about the sober part. Walk in a straight line and touch your nose before I let you get into your car.”
I laughed but demonstrated. I backed up then walked directly towards Nica, her cheeks high and round as she continued laughing, until our noses almost touched. I stopped, retaining the closeness, wondering why all this damn chemistry lingered. She bit her lip and shifted away. The much-needed cool air filtered between us, but her eyes remained on my lips. Right there with you. We both knew this was wrong, and yet here we stood, our gazes all but making out.
Nica stepped back. “I’ll find some time to check on your grandmother. But beyond that, this really needs to be it.”
Funny how even though I agreed, her words contracted a vibe I felt deep down in my gut. Get a hold of yourself, Thompson. This connection screamed giving up control. One thing my mother taught me by being her bitchtastic self: never give up control. So even though everything in me demanded to do something different, I stood there, like an idiot, as she backed up. She waved somewhere over my shoulder, then turned and walked away.
A hand landed on my shoulder. Grant. “You let her go?”
“I had to.”
We both turned to Lexie. She waited until Nica rounded the corner. The shadows blocked her face, but Grant understood and translated. “She’s right in what she’s doing for her job. Just maybe not for the chemistry you two have.”
“That’s comforting.”
Grant yanked out his phone from his back pocket. “Then maybe we take Nica out of the equation. What do you say we force these two—” he signed in my direction and the empty space where Nica would have been “—into close quarters?”
I tried to interject, but Lexie’s wide grin matched Grant’s, and it occurred to me that perhaps Nica and I weren’t the only two with some chemistry. Since they didn’t have the obstacles we did, it was best I stood back as they exchanged numbers and let things fall as they would.
But that didn’t feel right. Not at all. Running down the street and tugging Nica back into my arms felt right. Never had anyone made me feel this way. From the stories my aunts told me, Dad acted like this when he met Mom, back when he didn’t shun his Deaf parents. Back when he had an opinion. Which meant I had to listen to Nica.
We had to stay apart.
Chapter 6
Nica
On my lunch break I headed over to Hospice House. I removed my ID and signed into the Hospice book as Nica instead of Veronica. After everything with Cam, I had to treat Cassie as a personal appointment, not work related.
Since Cassie didn’t have a light doorbell here, I opened her door and flicked the light switch. Cassie lay in bed, watching television, looking as though a slight wind could break this usually strong woman. Her knitting lay lifeless on her stomach. Needles crossed at an awkward angle while a dwindling roll of yarn snuggled against her hip. Until the past few months Cassie was always up and moving around her apartment when I visited. Now her short hair stuck out in multiple directions, the curls she always had done unraveling. She wore a housecoat, blankets bunched up around her. The wrinkles on her face appeared more prominent in the dim lighting.
Cassie’s blue eyes found me, and the dullness morphed into a shine. She smiled, the sides of her mouth crinkling, and waved me in.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, sitting down.
“Tired.” She eyed me, her wise eyes taking in the situation in its entirety. “C.T. told you to visit?” C.T. Cam’s sign name, those two letters tapping the chin. His grandparents would have given him this name. Mine had come from my Deaf elders when I started working with them. If we had used our sign names when we first met things would be very different.
I nodded as I checked out the room, namely the pictures brought from Cassie’s apartment. I found one of Cam; he wore a graduation cap and a huge grin. I wasn’t sure if it was high school or college, but it was certainly several years ago. I recognized him but would never have put two and two together, even sober. I always thought he was a nice-looking grandson. Except now I knew his face well, and that huge grin made my stomach flip. My attempt to stay away, to stay detached, wasn’t going well.
I turned back to Cassie, the matchmaker—even though she had nothing to do with our initial meeting.
“I’m here on my lunch break,” I signed.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Not appropriate for work.”
Cassie brushed me off. “Nonsense. I told C.T. I would write a letter, excusing you of any problems with your work. Give me paper.”
I laughed and held onto Cassie’s shaking but determined hand. The hand was cold, the skin paper-thin. I signed one-handed. “It’s OK. Though when you get better, I can’t be your case manager.” Maybe if I never did any further official work on her case I could somehow handle this mess of a situation.
Cassie jerked her hand away. “I’m not getting any better.” The feisty woman had lost her spunk just like that. “C.T. will need you.”
I fought against the tears threatening to blur my vision. “I can’t be the one to help him.”
Cassie smiled, the fight burning in her eyes. I knew it wasn’t the fight to live. “I know you two. You will be my granddaughter-in-law.” As the last sign finished, Cassie’s hand moved to her chest and a deep cough ravaged her. I helped her lean forward and rubbed her back. The congested, fluid-filled cough vibrated through the frail body.
I continued to rub after Cassie calmed down.
“Want to know why you two are perfect for each other?”
I said nothing. Cassie wasn’t going to stop until she was ready.
“You are both determined individuals. You work hard. Solve problems when they come up. You each need someone else like that. Someone willing to jump in and help bounce around ideas.”
“And no one else in the world is like that?” I teased.
“Don’t be smart. You two are like my husband and me. We complemented each other in drive, in ambition. Oh, they say you need only one person in the driver’s seat. That’s for wimps. You need both people in the driver’s seat, both people steering the relationship in the right direction. Otherwise you have one person dragging the other. I’ve never met anyone else who shares the type of drive C.T. has. He’s not someone who wants a follower. He wants a partner. And from everything I’ve seen, you’re the same way.”
I wanted to comment on drive not being enough for a relationship. I didn’t. Cassie’s breathing was increasing in frequency. She needed her rest.
“Happy I’m finally listening?”
Cassie smiled. “Are you?”
“Yes.” The honest answer surprised even me. This was no longer my client I was chatting with. I was no longer the social worker. This felt like family. Cassie was much more dangerous than I gave her credit for.
“My hearing loss is genetic. So far only C.T. inherited the gene. If any of my family can handle a deaf child it’s you two.”
I laughed and rubbed Cassie’s hand. I was used to my client’s heavy-handed and blunt conversation style. Part of it was cultural, the rest a feisty personality. All of it a wonderful woman I was sure to miss.
“Time to get some rest,” I said as I stood.
With a heavy heart I made my way out of the building, giving Cassie a chance to nap. The crisp air caressed my cheeks, allowing me to fill the fall air deep into my lungs. The trees swayed and I lost myself in the dance of rustling leaves until my cell rang. I crossed the last few feet to my car and answered as I climbed inside.
“We have plans tonight,” Lexie said.
I mentally ran through my calendar, but knew it to be empty. “Oh really.”
“Yes, really. After seeing you fail to resist Cam you need a night out.”
I studied a mark on my windshield. Bird poop. My car needed a bath. “I resisted him. You saw me go home alone.”
“I saw you two practically eye fuck followed by you running.”
I resisted the urge to rub the mark from the inside, since bird poop or not, it wasn’t inside my car. “You were supposed to be helping.”
“I am helping. Hence the plans.”
I groaned and tried to figure out the location of the nearest carwash. “I should go home, and stay home this time.”
“Right, because that will get him off your mind. I’ve never seen you like this before. Maybe you should give it a chance.”
I gripped my keys so hard they dug into my palm. “Are you out of your mind? You know how bad this is.”
“Yeah, I do. And I also know the biggest problem for you has nothing to do with him being a caregiver.”
“Lexie,” I moaned.
“You don’t believe in the fairytale.”
“Neither do you.” Lexie never dated the same guy more than two weeks.
“True. I don’t. But I’m not falling for my client’s grandson.”
I clamped my teeth together so fast my back molars ached. “I’m not falling.”
“Hook, line, and sinker. The fairytale exists. See if your prince has a glass slipper.”
“You’re almost as bad as my client, it’s not happening.” I forced my fingers to uncurl and jammed my key into the ignition.
“Ha!” Lexie exclaimed. “Do me a favor, don’t run before you get a chance to see where this might go.”
