A Perfect Mistake, page 8
And that gave me an idea. A little last hurrah win for Grandma.
Cam: That wouldn’t be fair to the date Grandma set me up with.
Rhonda: Really, Cameron, someone your grandmother chose? We all know her track record is not worth even considering.
So is yours. I nearly sent the sentiment but she texted again first.
Rhonda: And how is that fair to Sarah?
Oh, two can play this game.
Cam: And how is it fair to my date to cancel?
I tapped my steering wheel. Now I needed to follow through, otherwise Mom would find some way to get back at me, I knew it.
I switched to Nica’s thread.
Cam: I need a favor. It’ll make a dying woman very happy and piss my mother off. A win-win.
Nica: I’m not sure I like the sound of this.
Cam: Good thing I’m deaf. I need a date for tomorrow to throw off my mother’s matchmaking attempts. Casablanca is playing at Coolidge Corner.
Nica: It’s captioned?
I couldn’t stop the stupid grin on my face. I’d kick my own ass later.
Cam: I’ll buy ear plugs, you’ll watch it like I did with my grandparents when I was a kid. Their plot, much more interesting.
I started my car as I waited for her response, ignoring how much I wanted her to say yes.
Nica: Okay, I’ll do it. But only because I’m curious.
I high-fived my wheel then turned onto the road. Getting even with my mother had never been more rewarding.
Chapter 8
Nica
The earplugs didn’t diminish all the sound, but it did make it quieter. Not that I paid much attention to the screen anyways. I spent the movie watching Cam, his lively expressions lit up by the projector light and his own enjoyment. If I thought he was handsome before I was greatly mistaken, because here, in the dark theater, he was devastatingly beautiful. He used the images on the screen to create his own story. Up until now I hadn’t realized how many interpretations one scene could have.
I wanted to watch more with him, see the classics through his eyes. And then turn on the captioning and decide which we liked better. Which jerked me back from the brink. Those thoughts were of the relationship sort. This was a favor to a friend. That’s it.
“You watch a lot of older movies?” I asked once the credits rolled and the lights came on.
“My grandparents watched with me, gave me their love for the classics. I have many of their movies at home.” When I moved my hands he cut me off. “And yes, with captioning.” He shrugged. “I like some of my other versions better.”
I feared I did, too.
“Want to grab a coffee or some dessert? There’s this place I frequent that has the best selection,” he said as we made our way out of the theater.
“You had me at dessert,” I said too late to remind myself I needed to head home and not find an excuse to spend more time with him.
Cam’s smile turned knowing and he began walking. “Chocolate is the way to your heart I take it?”
My cheeks heated. “I’m a non-discriminatory dessert addict. As long as it has sugar, and sometimes when it doesn’t, I’m a fan.”
“Oh, I understand. No flowers, only dessert.”
I laughed. “I think you’re the first person to get that without me telling them. At work we’ll get flowers, or a fruit arrangement from time to time. Mostly loved ones or vendors, sometimes a family cares enough to appreciate us. What I want is a large chocolate chip cookie. Put the message on the front with frosting. Flowers only last a short time, at least food I can eat.”
“Then trust me, you’ve got to see this place.”
Curiosity had the best of me, so I followed. We rode the train further into the city, exiting into the sunny day. We chatted about everything and nothing—the weather, the Red Sox, more old movies, until we turned down a street and Cam halted, jaw suddenly clenched tight, eyes trained across the street at what appeared to be an apartment building. Or perhaps he eyed the tall, leggy brunette who strolled up the street from the opposite direction.
Cam turned to me. “Sorry,” he signed before crossing the street. I checked for cars and followed.
He intercepted the woman at the building doors. “Sarah, what are you doing here?”
I stayed a few feet back, feet glued to the cement. The woman, Sarah, sized me up, eyes appearing to take in every flaw I owned, from the frizz in my hair to the way my toes tended to point inwards. Not a pleasant experience. I straightened my spine.
“Am I late? Your mother said to meet you here.” She thumbed to the building, and I had a funny feeling this was where Cam lived.
Cam rubbed a temple, a slight shake to his head, and I wondered how much he could understand. Sarah’s ruby painted lips didn’t move a whole lot when she spoke. Heck, if this was a scene from the movie he’d probably have someone off screen talking. I received my answer when he yanked his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. She sighed, resting a hip against the exterior brick, pecking at the screen with nails that matched her lips and required several inches of space between skin and object.
She handed the phone back, and Cam’s shoulders inched closer to his ears as he read. “My mother mentioned nothing to me. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“It doesn’t have to be a waste, I’m here now.” She flipped her hair back. I had no clue why she remained; Lexie communicated better with Cam than she could.
Cam’s face scrunched up, clearly still not understanding her. She deemed his pause as encouragement and stepped closer. I wasn’t one to be jealous, certainly not with someone I was definitely not seeing, but a twinge travelled up my spine, and if she moved one more step I’d break her overgrown nails off.
I moved in beside Cam, placing a hand around his waist as though he belonged to me. “I’m sorry you’re here now, but so am I, so you’ll have to find some other way to occupy your time.” I signed as I spoke, hoping to catch Cam up on what he missed.
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “His mother won’t be happy.”
I gave her a smile, fake as hell. “I don’t care what his mother thinks.”
Cam’s arm wrapped around my waist, holding me closer to him, and I tried not revel in the feel of him so near. Or how shockingly right he felt. “Fine.” She held up a hand in a phone gesture and winked at Cam. “Call me.” Then she hobbled away, hips swaying so much I worried she’d hurt her spine.
Cam’s forehead met mine after she rounded the corner. My heart swelled, and I wanted to run my hands up his back, over those muscles, and bury my fingers in his hair. The intensity shocked me, and I remained still, barely breathing. His chest rose and fell, and I placed my hand over his heart, strong pectoral muscles and fast heartbeat messing with my senses. How easy it would be to forget everything, even the fact we stood outside, and give in to the magnetic attraction between us. The more time that passed the harder it was to remind myself why we couldn’t do this.
Then I remembered. My job. My clients, and as much as it pained me I couldn’t give in. I stepped back, bringing some much needed air between us, and didn’t miss how this felt more wrong than bringing my lips to his.
He ran a hand through his hair, a slight laugh breaking the tension, but not the desire. “Sorry about that. That’s why I needed your help today, my mother’s idea of a good match for me.”
“And Sarah thinks dating you is a good idea? You can’t communicate.”
He shrugged. “Mom doesn’t understand and would feed her lies. Now I believed I promised you dessert?” He pointed across the street, and I noticed the pink canopy that housed the bakery. We crossed and one step inside was all it took for the sweet aroma of chocolate and sugar to attack my nose in the best way possible.
Almost as good as sharing breathing space with Cam.
“This smells delicious,” I signed, taking in the multiple display cases.
Cam waved to the man standing by the register. “Best place around. Pick your preference.”
“You have time? Because this will take a while.”
I caught his smile from my peripheral as I continued to scan over cookies and cupcakes and pastries. “Plenty of time. You helped me with Sarah, it’s the least I can do.”
I nodded and then kept my eyes away from him, the desserts fading from view. For a moment, I wished we were real, a couple out buying dessert and bringing it home for a quiet afternoon in. I pushed that aside and focused on the sweets—safer territory.
“What do you like?” Cam asked, sliding up next to me.
My gaze roamed the dessert display. “Oh, a little of everything.”
He didn’t respond and I turned to him and the smile on his face I didn’t quite trust. “We can do that.”
I scrunched my face. “Do what?”
“Taste test. A little of everything.”
I laughed, but he didn’t. “You’re serious?”
He nodded. “There are chairs over there, and they have some great coffee.” He nudged my shoulder. “What do you say; let’s find out what you really like?”
A part of me wondered if this was him trying to crack my code, but I knew my love of a wide variety of sweets would keep him guessing. “You’re on.”
Chapter 9
Cam
I left work early to visit Grandma, for no other reason than a gut-deep intuition. Many different worst-case scenarios ran through my head during the long drive. Worst-case scenarios all too close to becoming reality.
When I arrived at the front desk the receptionist held up a finger, urging me to wait. She picked up the phone and made a quick call. I kept my hands in my pockets, wearing the seams to the point where I wouldn’t be surprised if the loose change fell to my socks. I prayed it wasn’t too late. I hadn’t seen Grandma since Saturday, giving the rest of the family time to visit. No one had warned me that anything was amiss, yet something was obviously wrong. They never made me wait before. A few tormenting minutes later, one of my grandmother’s nurses approached, scribbling on a pad of paper.
She handed it to me and rested a hand on my shoulder.
Her pain has been increasing, and we’ve had to up her medications. She’s not herself anymore and is dozing on and off. I wanted to warn you, to prepare you.
My hands shook but I managed to thank her for the warning. I wanted to ask if this meant the end was near, but she was here so the end was always near. Each step felt like a hundred, my feet dragging along the carpeted floors. When I reached the room I froze. Tempted to run, I dug in my heels and wished Nica was there to support me.
I found Grandma lying in bed, watching television. Her face appeared thin and frail in the dim lighting. Her skin grayish, her eyes dull. She looked up at me and smiled weakly, signing “I-love-you” with a barely raised hand.
I fought against the burning in my eyes and talked, her listening with the same compassion she always had. I talked about how work was going, how even with all this time off projects were still running on schedule. I had a wonderful team that made me proud. I talked about Nica. How special she was. Mostly I told Grandma how much I was going to miss her.
“I will always be with you, inside,” she told me.
I hugged her and kissed her cheek. Then I stayed by her side, holding her hand, as her heavy eyelids closed and her breathing slowed. Through her open shades the sky shifted into shades of red and purple, day slowly turning into night. The changing colors of the leaves swayed in the breeze, the world somehow at peace and built on this damned cycle of life and death.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but at some point the hand in mine slacked, growing cold. When I focused on Grandma again her chest no longer rose and fell. The same peace that existed outside spanned her face. She was gone.
*****
Nica
My lobby buzzer pulled me from reading a book. I blinked the room into focus, trying to figure out who could be visiting. Coming up blank, I pushed the button and called down, greeted by nothing but silence. An inkling gripped me, and I fumbled with my cell and noticed a missed text from Cam. I quickly buzzed him in as I loaded the message.
Cam: I need to see you.
I went cold at his words. He was always playful with his texts before. My heart pounded. Cassie couldn’t be gone already, could she? I paced the apartment, waiting for Cam to make it to my floor. What felt like an eternity later, he knocked and I opened the door.
His eyes were bloodshot, not even the hint of a smile on his face. “Oh no,” I signed. I drew him into my apartment and flung my arms around him. Once inside my embrace he broke down. With my own tears streaming I held his head close with one hand, the other rubbed his back.
I stood there for a long time, letting him fall apart in my arms. My heart clenched at the loss, at his naked emotion, and I struggled to keep myself in check, to be his support. He tested my resolve. I held onto my social worker hat with a fierceness, keeping his needs the central focus. Once he moved his head off my shoulder I grasped his hands and tugged him over to the couch. He followed without protest, his legs crumbling like jelly when I pushed him to sit.
“Are there any calls you need to make?”
He shook his head. “I did that before I got here. My parents and aunts and uncles are working on the arrangements.”
“What can I do?”
His glossy eyes and enlarged pupils, full of sorrow, soaked me up like a sponge. “I don’t know.” He seemed so lost and broken. I wanted to kiss him, anything to soothe him, even for a short while. But that wouldn’t be what he needed, and I had to keep the distance. Instead I found an old movie to keep his mind occupied and did my best to come up with a storyline more intriguing than the captions.
*****
Cam
The following morning I woke up to a cat perched on my chest, whiskers brushing my face. Her yellow eyes sported black circles; her paw rose for attention. I scratched her head as the ache in my chest settled back in.
My grandmother was gone.
The tears started again, and I let them slide down my face. Light bled through the shades into Nica’s living room. I had no idea the time. Didn’t care. The discomfort of the couch nothing compared to my insides.
The bedroom door opened and Nica appeared, hair almost a light brown with dampness. A weak smile formed over her face, coupled with a haunting sadness that matched the hole in my heart. She sat on the edge of the couch and deposited her cat, Oreo, on the floor. She brushed away my tears, her own eyes full and heavy.
“You want some breakfast?” She rubbed her other hand over my stubble-riddled jaw.
I shook my head. Was I hungry? Probably. Did I care? Couldn’t.
“You OK?” she signed so small I almost missed it.
Her image blurred before me, and I forced my eyes shut to keep the moisture inside. “I’m fine,” I managed to sign. She touched my shoulder, and I opened my eyes.
“You’re not; don’t force yourself to be otherwise.” She rubbed her hands together. “I need to get to work. There’s a spare set of keys in the kitchen. Text me if you need anything, OK?”
I nodded as she stood and returned to her room. My mind was numb, not thinking, not registering. I ached deep inside, feeling hollow, empty. Pointless. I wasn’t going to work, couldn’t put two and two together, and Matt had insisted on bereavement leave. I would meet up with my parents later on to go over funeral arrangements. Then we were to clean out Grandma’s room at Hospice. All I wanted was to stay in Nica’s apartment, even if Nica wasn’t there.
*****
By mid-morning I needed a wall to punch. I’d been excluded from the funeral arrangements. Six adults crowded around a table, all but ignoring me. I couldn’t lip-read and follow them all. When I left I thought the argument involved which caterer to use. At not even ten in the morning, with their mother dead, they argued over food. I hadn’t even eaten breakfast, and I couldn’t care less about my next meal.
I had been the one chosen to handle the burden of caring for my grandmother, but not to help with the arrangements. Or perhaps it boiled down to the big family joke to keep the Deaf members secluded together. Didn’t they think that maybe, just maybe, I knew her wishes? No, of course not. All they cared about was what the fucking deli platter looked like.
I brought my bad attitude to Hospice House to collect Grandma’s belongings. The emptiness of her room hit me square between the eyes. The small, cozy place seemed large and cold. The wide open shades let harsh sunlight into the room. The bed had been changed and made up. All that remained were a few belongings and the meteor-sized hole in my heart. Empty box in hand, I picked up the picture frames sunbathing on the mantel and placed them inside. When I made it to my own photo, my college graduation picture, a folded piece of paper slid to the floor.
I placed the picture in the box and bent for the letter. In Grandma’s shaky writing I read “Veronica” written on the top of the paper. I opened it, desperate to have some contact with my grandmother again, even if not directed to me.
Veronica, I am sorry if you and Cameron cause any problem for your work. I never want you to have problems. I saw something special in both of you that work well together. I hope you have seen it. Thank you for giving an old woman some hope.
Cameron, make sure she gets this.
I had my first laugh since her hand went cold in mine. I didn’t know where things would go from here with Nica, all I knew was that when I needed someone I turned to her without even thinking. Which meant perhaps I needed to see if my grandmother’s death changed things.
Chapter 10
