Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
W hile Faye sat in the chair in the exam room waiting for Dr. Rowen, her mother was outside talking to her favorite nurse, Grant.
The two were always flirting. At first, Faye hadn’t thought much about it, but now that she was feeling the afterglow of an amazing weekend with Nate, she was sort of rooting for them. Why hadn’t Grant asked her mom out yet? Had he? Maybe they had gone out.
She knew that the man wasn’t married. She’d overheard how his wife had died almost ten years ago. He had a son, Calvin, that was a few years younger than she was.
And her mother had never remarried after she’d divorced her dad while he rotted in a prison cell. His right to see any of his children had been stripped away shortly after she’d turned one and was in her third surgery.
The way her mother told the story, almost every bone in Faye’s body had been broken because of that man. All it had taken was ten minutes. Her mother had asked her husband to watch the kids while she showered, and that short time had changed the course of so many lives.
The knock on the door pulled Faye’s attention from the swirling thoughts in her head.
“Good morning, Faye,” Dr. Rowen said with her usual calm warmth as she stepped inside, already reading from the tablet in her hand.
Her silver-streaked dark hair was twisted up in a neat bun, and her fitted blazer made her look more like a professor than a cochlear implant specialist. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Faye smiled weakly. “Not a problem.”
Dr. Rowen took the seat across from her and looked up over her reading glasses. “So, I got your labs back from the swabs we took around the implant site.”
Faye held her breath.
“There’s a mild infection around the site—nothing severe, but it might explain some of the pain and the overload episodes. I’m going to prescribe a ten-day course of oral antibiotics, which you will start today, and I want you back in a week to follow up.”
Faye nodded slowly. “Will this affect the implant? Will it have to be replaced?”
Dr. Rowen gave a gentle shake of her head. “Not unless it’s left untreated. You’ve done the right thing coming in quickly. The area isn’t showing any signs of rejection or fluid buildup, which is what we’d worry about most.”
“Okay,” she said, exhaling. Relief mixed with slight disappointment. She had hoped for a cleaner outcome—but she could live with antibiotics.
“I also want to run one more test next week—some sensitivity mapping to see how your implant is responding to environmental noise. Sometimes, post-infection, the sound balance can shift, and we may need to reprogram it.”
“Got it,” Faye said, absorbing every word, every possibility.
“Good.” Dr. Rowen stood, smoothing her blazer. “Is your mom still out there?”
Faye nodded. “Yes, she’s probably still flirting with Grant.”
Dr. Rowen’s mouth curved. “She’s not the only one. I’ve had to remind him this is a medical facility, not a dating app.” She winked before leaving the room with a chuckle.
After they’d stopped by the pharmacy to fill her prescription, her mom took her to their favorite lunch spot in Portland—Milo’s Garden Bistro, a cozy plant-filled café with mismatched chairs, freshly baked bread on every table, and usually a low noise level.
They were seated at a small table by the window while the lunch crowd buzzed around them. Currently, it was a little too loud to talk easily, so her mom started signing to her.
“You okay?” she signed.
Faye nodded and signed back.
“I’m glad it was just an infection. I don’t mind taking antibiotics for one week.” She paused, and her fingers slowed for a heartbeat. “It could’ve been worse.”
Her mother reached across the table, her eyes soft. “You’ve got this.”
Faye smiled and took a sip of her coffee. “So did Grant ask you out?”
Her mother laughed as the conversation turned to men and relationships. While they ate, Faye told her mother that she was sort of seeing someone, but kept Nate’s name out of it.
Then she changed the subject and told her how she and Nate had explored the hidden tunnel and how Max and Juliette were both excited and surprised about the secret passages in their home.
She was halfway through her meal of tomato bisque and chicken salad when she noticed a man at the table across the room glaring at them. His brow was furrowed, and he was whispering to the woman sitting with him while motioning in their direction.
She tried to ignore it—but just then he spoke up. Loudly.
“You know, it’s rude to wave your hands around in public like that. Distracting as hell when people are trying to eat.”
Her mom’s didn’t even flinch. She calmly set her spoon down and turned toward him. “We’re using American Sign Language. My daughter is deaf.”
The man scoffed. “Yeah, well, it’s obnoxious. It looks like you’re arguing. It’s making people uncomfortable.”
Faye’s blood turned to fire.
She lifted her hands deliberately and signed: “Uncomfortable? You’re sitting ten feet away. Maybe look at your own plate.”
Her mom signed slowly: “Or leave. That’s also an option.”
They both smiled.
The woman with the man shifted awkwardly in her seat, clearly mortified.
Faye could feel a few others watching now, unsure if this was a performance by the man to get attention or if he was really upset. But she didn’t care. For once, she didn’t want to shrink away from confrontation.
The waiter appeared a moment later. “Is there a problem?”
Her mom smiled sweetly. “No problem at all. Just educating the public.”
The man muttered something under his breath and threw a few bills on his table before storming out, dragging his poor companion with him.
Faye sat back in her chair, heart racing, her stomach turning.
Her mom reached over, squeezed her hand again.
“I’m proud of you. You didn’t shrink, or run away,” she whispered aloud this time.
Faye swallowed and blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes. How many years had she hidden who she was? The old Faye would have stopped using sing language because it irritated someone else. She would have apologized or, worse, like her mother said, run away.
“No,” she said quietly. “Not this time.”
And she wouldn’t again, she promised herself. She was better than that. She deserved more.
Four hours later, after a quick shopping spree with her mom, Faye was back in Pride.
Her tires crunched over the gravel as she pulled into Nate’s driveway, and her chest tightened with something warm and weightless at the same time.
His truck was parked crookedly near the front of the house along with a couple other work trucks.
The front door stood wide open and music drifted out of it—classic rock, of course.
A Zeppelin song that she could barely hear but recognized from the thrum against her chest.
She climbed out of her car and headed inside, brushing wind-tangled hair from her face.
The scent of sawdust, pine, and something faintly citrus greeted her before she even reached the kitchen. When she rounded the corner, her heart did a little somersault.
Nate was at the new kitchen island, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp with sweat, balancing a gleaming white farmhouse sink into place.
The island beneath it was rustic oak, the wood warm and beautifully finished.
All the cabinets were installed now, clean white with beautiful delicate iron hardware.
The space looked like something out of a magazine—if that magazine happened to also feature hot, sexy carpenters.
“Looks like you’ve been busy,” she said, leaning against the doorframe.
Nate looked up and grinned. “Hey, you’re back! I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight.”
“I left early.” She stepped further into the room. “Traffic was light, and I needed a distraction.”
“You came to the right place. Plumbing chaos and power tools galore.”
She glanced around and noticed Parker crouched near the floor in the corner, running new electrical wires up through the side of the island. Two other guys she vaguely remembered seeing in the Brew-Ha-Ha were working on the plumbing beneath the cabinets.
“Hey, Faye,” Parker called without looking up.
“Hey.” She smiled, then turned to Nate. “Are you almost done for the day?”
“The sink’s going in now, then Parker’s guys will finish the connections. I should have water to the island today. Want to grab dinner after they wrap this part up?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
Fifteen minutes later, after there was water flowing from the sink, she followed Nate’s truck as they headed to Baked.
They sat outside on the patio near the side of the road, where they could just make out the docks.
They split a Hawaiian pizza and enjoyed cold root beer as the evening started to cool off.
“Are you going to tell me how it went today?” he asked finally.
She had been worried that she was sharing too much with him and didn’t want to just blurt out her medical problems. “I’m fine. It turns out I have an infection at my implant site.”
Nate’s brow furrowed immediately. “Is it bad?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s low-grade,” she assured him. “They’ve put me on antibiotics for ten days. It’s not serious unless it gets worse, but I have to go back next week for some follow-up tests.”
He reached across the table, his hand covering hers softly. “Why didn’t you call me earlier? I would have loved to hear this sooner. I’ve been worried about you all day.”
“I almost did,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But I didn’t want to overshare. I’m not good at this, remember?”
He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed. “What’s this?”
She sighed, brushing her thumb along the edge of his hand.
“Relationships. Letting people in. Trusting that someone actually wants to be there for me. Outside of my mom, my sister, and Max, I’ve spent much of my life being self-sufficient.
Out of necessity. You grow up having to fight for every inch of normal and, eventually, you just stop expecting anyone else to stick around. ”
Nate didn’t say anything right away. He just let her talk, his thumb now moving gently against her skin in return.
“I’ve had people walk away. Or say the right things but not show up when it mattered.
So yeah, my first instinct is to keep things to myself.
To handle it alone. It feels safer that way.
” She looked up and met his eyes. “But then there’s you.
And suddenly, not calling you felt worse than calling you. Which is new for me.”
He gave her a long, steady look, something unreadable flickering in his gaze before it softened again. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I’m trying,” she said with a faint smile. “But I might mess up. I probably will mess up.”
“I can handle a little mess,” he said, squeezing her hand again. “I’m pretty good with tools, remember?”
She laughed quietly. “Okay, that was cute.”
He leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself. “You doing okay now?”
She nodded. “I’m tired. And a little annoyed. But yeah. I’m ready to get back to work tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face. “You don’t have to rush back in.”
“I’m positive. Besides, I know you’ve been juggling everyone’s schedule around in my absence.”
“You’re handling it better than I would,” he said with a grin. When she arched her brows in question, he continued. “I broke my arm one summer and busted off my cast three times. I’m not a very good patient.”
That made her laugh. “I can actually picture that.”
He took a bite of pizza and a sip of his soda. “I’ll add you to the work roster tomorrow. What day is your next appointment?”
“The tenth.”
“I’ll make sure you have it off,” he said with a smile. “You’re still coming with me on the Fourth, right?”
She tilted her head and gave him a look. “Even after I just told you I’m a relationship disaster?”
“Especially after,” he said quickly. “You think I’d let you back out now that I know your secret?”
She shook her head with a soft smile. “You’re infuriating.”
“Good,” he said. “That makes my news a little easier to tell you. I may or may not have signed us up for the paddle board race.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You did what?”
He grinned. “You’ll love it. It’s just for fun—no one’s out there trying to win Olympic medals.”
“You just want an excuse to get me into a swimsuit,” she joked.
“Guilty,” he said without even blinking. “But also, it’ll be fun.”
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if I fall off, you’re buying me funnel cake.”
“Deal.”
They stayed there a little longer, enjoying the summer air, the lazy buzz of conversation around them, and the anticipation of the holiday ahead.
Then they walked down the street to the ice cream parlor and sat outside and enjoyed a couple of cones. She picked mint chocolate chip, while he went for Rocky Road.
For the first time in her life, Faye didn’t feel like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She just felt present. Thanks to Nate.