Chapter 10 #2
I don’t feel fully recovered as I finally make it into the office, but I feel somewhat better than before.
I had a shit night’s sleep, and I’m still ravaged by jet lag, but at least work is going to keep me busy.
There are meetings I need to set up and contracts that need to be signed, which will at least allow me to feel accomplished in something.
Staring at my computer screen, I wait for the relay service to connect the call I have to make.
They’re absurdly understaffed, and with cuts to certain providers, there are far too many calls and not enough interpreters to take them.
And that’s terrible for me right now because I need something to focus on.
Desperately.
Sitting here staring at a screen waiting isn’t helping.
If I don’t occupy my mind, I’m going to slip right back to the gym. Right back to Dex, and his warm skin, and his hands—those fucking fingers moving through my language so fluently.
In ways he couldn’t do before I left.
In ways I wish he couldn’t do now.
I want to take credit for it. I want to believe it was for me—because of me—but I know that’s not true. His brother is dating a Deaf man, and half their friends use only sign language to communicate. It makes sense he loves Thom enough to integrate into that world.
But what he said back in the locker room about a Deaf heart?
That nearly ruined me.
Before I can start to panic again, the interpreter connects. It’s a woman with a pale face, freckles, and light blue eyes.
‘Hello, I’m interpreter 5728. Calling now. Ring. Ring. Ring.’
I take a deep breath and am finally connected to the agency. The interpreter goes through the usual spiel, notifying the hearing individual on the other end of the line that a person using ASL is waiting to speak to someone.
I have a meeting for a new contract with a startup tech company that’s recruited entry-level employees from the Deaf school, but they’re sorely lacking in what they need for accessibility.
It’s the perfect new contract for our company, and it’ll be my first contract negotiation since fully taking over from my father.
But I need an interpreter there to negotiate the communication so it’s all done properly.
The interpreter smiles at me, clearly relaying the voice on the other end of the call. ‘Hi, this is Emma from CommUnity. How can I help you today?’
‘I need to book an in-person ASL-English interpreter for Wednesday. I have a meeting at a tech company, so preferably, someone who’s familiar with lingo regarding accessibility technology.’
‘Any other preferences?’
I zone out watching the interpreter’s hands, and I think about Dex’s for a second, but I quickly force myself back to the present. This is no time for pining. ‘I don’t want someone new.’
‘Not a problem.’
‘And I want someone certified.’ I would prefer a Certified Deaf Interpreter, but the list of CDIs in the area is slim to none. Leaning fully toward none. At least, that’s how it was before I left, and I don’t think that much has changed in three years.
So I’ll take what I can get, but I’m tired of being nice and getting stuck with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.
‘We can do that. Can you please relay the details of where, what time, and who to bill?’
I give them all the information, and then it’s done, and the call is over.
Staring at the blank screen, I realize this task hasn’t taken up nearly enough time, and my stomach is twisting with hunger.
I could go home and cook, but that sounds like the worst idea in the world, so I check the DeafEats app to make sure the couple of Deaf-owned restaurants haven’t gone under in the three years I was away.
Everything looks almost exactly like it was before, only there’s a new Greek spot listed, which sounds perfect. I could eat my weight in pita and tzatziki, hoping it’ll comfort me better than my sorry-ass ability to self-soothe will.
Grabbing my phone and my keys, I lock up the office, then jump in the car and head the few miles down the road. The spot is near my rental, which is nice, and while it only has street parking, the road is mostly deserted, so I’m able to snag a spot right out front.
If there’s music playing when I walk through the doors, I can’t tell. It’s not high enough for me to catch any of the vibrations, but inside has a good vibe. It’s small but fairly busy, which bodes well, and the lighting is bright enough to see well, but not enough to give me a headache.
It’s also an order-at-the-counter place, which I appreciate. In line, I notice a bunch of ASL guides for hearing customers, and I feel at home.
It’s the first time I’ve felt calm since the gym, which is starting to become a problem.
Fuck, I need to get control of myself. I have to be able to handle my shit if I’m going to be around Dex, and it’s become very clear that one—I can’t seem to stay away. And two—even if I do figure that out, he’s still going to be hanging out with people I know.
Short of burning all my bridges and turning into an actual hermit, I have to get used to him. I just…don’t know how.
Taking out my phone, I pull up his social media profile and click on his name. I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s going to have a post about me, is he?
There’s a new video, but it’s a very obvious intro to his ass class.
I watch it for a few seconds before I feel a tap on my arm.
I look up to see a disgruntled-looking man standing in front of me.
His mouth is moving rapidly, so he’s obviously not Deaf, which is not what I expected to deal with here.
I blink at him, then zero in on his lips. It’s hard to catch anything mid-conversation with zero context, but I put together something with the bits of sound I can hear from his low rumble.
“…down…mind. Thank you.”
It takes me a second, and then I realize the volume on my phone must be up. I stare him in the face as I click it all the way down, then smile with teeth. ‘Sorry,’ I sign. ‘I’m Deaf.’
I’m fairly sure he doesn’t know ASL, but from the way he blushes, he can probably work out that last part of my sentence. He swallows heavily, then turns and takes a big step away from me like it may be contagious.
I fucking wish it were sometimes. At least then these hearing weirdos would have something real to complain about.
Going back to my stalking—I mean perusing—I watch the video again, then one more time for good measure before I realize it’s my turn to order.
Walking up to the register, I smile at the young woman with a messy bun and hearing aids with purple glittery ear molds.
‘Hi,’ I sign. She looks relieved. I wasn’t watching, but she probably had a bitch of a time dealing with the asshole in front of me. I glance up at the menu briefly. ‘Spanakopita, side pita, side tzatziki, chicken souvlaki…’ My fingers hesitate. ‘Hummus.’
She doesn’t judge me for the massive order.
She just types it all in, then turns the iPad around for me to tap my card and hands me my receipt and a little vibrating buzzer to notify me when my order’s ready.
‘You can wait there.’ She points to a bench lining the side wall, and that’s all well and good except…
Mother of god, there’s a couple sitting by the window closest to the takeout bench, and I recognize them both. The absurdly gorgeous woman with long dark hair, and then him.
Sex.
I mean Dex, fuck.
He hasn’t seen me yet. At least, I don’t think he’s seen me.
The woman glances up and catches my eye for a second, but she goes back to her conversation without missing a beat.
I shuffle over, trying to find a blind spot where Dex won’t notice me at all when she reaches over and puts her hand on his bicep, and oh hell.
Oh fuck.
There’s a ring on a very important finger.
So he’s not just seeing someone—he’s engaged. He did all that with me in the goddamn gym shower, and he’s engaged? I want to storm over there and confront him—to let her know what her fiancé is up to.
I want to set it all on fire.
But then he throws his head back and laughs at something she says, and my heart feels like it’s cracking in a thousand pieces. I want to ruin him, and I want to do nothing at all.
I want to choke on the broken shards of my heart while he rides off into the sunset with his model of a bride.
I sink down to the bench instead and hunch into myself, refusing to look up again because I know if I do, I’m going to see them doing something horrible.
Like kissing.
Or worse, looking at each other like they’re in love. Because they probably are.
I squeeze my eyes shut and feel the weight of the order buzzer, praying to whatever god might be listening that I can get out of there without any kind of incident.
Minutes pass that feel like hours, and when I’m brave enough to look up again, their table’s empty.
Shit. Did he see me hunched over here like a fucking goblin?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out in a panic because what if it’s him? I don’t think I can take it.
But I can’t ignore it forever, so I glance down and almost cry when I see Quinn’s name on the screen.
I almost throw up on my shoes from relief.
Robbie’s brother and I have been friends for years, and we didn’t get the chance to chat much at my coming home party, so whatever he wants, it’ll be a very nice distraction.
Quinn: Have gift for u from mom. When I come over yours?
Me: getting food, then you come, twenty minutes?
Quinn: ok I go now, wait for u.
I send a thumbs-up. If he wants to sit like a gargoyle on my doorstep until I get home, that’s up to him. Robbie and his brothers are all such fucking gremlins, so it’s not a surprise.
And at least this means my evening will be occupied with something else besides Dex. At least, so long as Quinn doesn’t want to talk about him and how happy he’s been since I was away.