Chapter Eleven
T he last few days had been awkward between Evan and Mercedes, and he hated it. Where was the safe, enjoyable relationship they’d had for years? Okay, he’d always been super aware of her, but it had never been uncomfortable. They were good friends.
Dinner tonight had been leftover meatballs from the party. They’d eaten quietly, and she’d moved to the living room to read a book before he’d even been done. Usually, they chatted for a bit throughout supper, but it hadn’t happened.
He cleaned up the dinner dishes, washed, and put everything away afterward.
He even spent extra time scrubbing the counters from the sauce spills he’d made when he filled his rolls.
Mercedes glanced over a few times but remained silent.
She looked sad, though, not mad. Did she think he was upset with her, because of what happened at the party?
He figured she was ticked off because he’d walked out halfway through. Maybe it was time to bridge the gap.
She had a stack of books on the end table, so he picked one up and plopped onto the couch next to her. He flipped through the pages, pretending to read. He stopped at a phrase here or there, but the words rambled and he got bored. He glanced over at Mercedes. She was staring at him.
“I love that book. Have you read it?”
Evan gave a curt nod and shrugged.
“What was your favorite part?”
She was actually talking to him and excited. This was better. He took a quick peek at the title. The Grapes of Wrath. Crap. Wing it, stupid.
“Well, I always loved grapes. Green are my favorite—though I’ll have purple if I have to. I like that they make wine.” He voiced so maybe she’d feel like she was having a real book discussion. He knew she loved that kind of stuff.
Her face softened, and her nose wrinkled as she laughed. “Silly. Really, what did you think of it?”
Double crap. He’d obviously guessed wrong. What had he seen when he’d been flipping through? He opened to an early page and did a quick scan. Oh, man, this was painful. He stood and dropped the book on the couch. “A turtle crossing the road. Doesn’t keep my interest. How do you read this rubbish?”
Her lips turned down and she sighed, which made him feel like a turd.
He reached for his Heavy Equipment book.
Might as well see if he could focus long enough to get through a few pages.
Attempting to make peace, he held the book up.
“If I want to get a promotion or make more money, this is what I need to be reading. Sorry I’m not the literary sort. ”
Her sweet smile warmed him. “No one said you had to be the literary type or even read the same books that I like. We’re all different, but different isn’t bad, Evan. I hope you know that.”
He gave her one of his charming grins, the one that usually got him out of trouble with his family. “Thanks. I guess I get a little defensive when it comes to reading and being smart. I don’t have a fancy degree from an expensive college.”
“You don’t need to. I still like you.”
Heat rose in his face and neck. What the heck was that from? He was blushing. Because a girl said she liked him. Was he twelve? “You’re okay, too.” He had to get back to teasing her, or it would get weird again.
She nodded, and he nodded, then they both went back to looking at their books.
He managed a few pages about safety issues—he’d had those rules drilled into him from his boss a million times—but math formulas for area and volume?
He’d never get through this. He didn’t even understand what half of these words meant.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back on the couch. A few moments later, something touched his arm. Mercedes had slid closer. “Are you okay?”
“Some of this stuff is harder than I want to work. You know how lazy I am.” Best to make fun of himself first before anyone else did.
Instead of laughing, she squinted at him.
“What are you talking about? You aren’t lazy.
I’ve seen how dirty you are when you come home, so unless you’re rolling around in the mud at work, you’re doing something.
Plus, I’ve seen you play baseball, and you help me fix stuff around here and at your parents’ place. Not lazy.”
He did put in an effort, so why did it often feel like he still couldn’t do things?
He could have used a cheerleader like Mercedes when he was in school.
Could he confide in her? Tell her the absolute truth?
What’s the worst that could happen? She’d laugh at him and make him feel bad.
Plenty of other people had done it. He just wasn’t sure if he could handle it from Mercedes.
She wouldn’t, though. He knew her too well, and she didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
Pushing aside his book, he faced her and took a deep breath. “I can’t read.”
She froze and stared at him strangely. “What are you talking about? I’ve seen you read. I’ve left notes for you and texted you. You text me back, so you can not only read, you can write.”
“Not well. I can barely read kids’ books. I can’t understand half of what this book is saying, and I have to get through it if I want to advance at my job at all. Otherwise, I’m stuck on the same equipment forever.”
Mercedes motioned for him to hand her the book. She flipped through the pages and nodded here and there. “Okay, it’s definitely very technical. If you want, I could help you.”
Like he was a baby. “I’m not a pet project, and I don’t need your pity.”
She stiffened at his tone, which was harsher than he’d meant to make it. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it for a second. “I’m sorry. This is a very touchy subject for me. I hate how stupid I am.”
“Stop! Right this minute. You are not stupid. Many Deaf people speak with a different structure to their sentences than English, it doesn’t make it wrong. Why did you never tell me about this?”
He clenched his teeth. “I’ve asked you for help before. I figured you knew.”
Before he could say anything more, she lunged into his arms and hugged him. Her grip was tight and felt amazing. Slowly, he eased his arms around her and squeezed back. It was like all the tension of the day was being sucked out of him.
How long they stayed that way he wasn’t sure, but it was long enough that all the bottled up emotion inside him had drained away. Most of it, anyway. Holding Mercedes in his arms held its own kind of tension.
When they finally parted, he kept his eyes on the book lying next to him. He didn’t want to see what was in her eyes.
He should’ve known she wouldn’t allow him to stay in his little avoidance world.
“I think we need to talk about this. If you really don’t want to, I understand. But it seems like you need to get some stuff off your chest before it crushes you.”
He nodded and she got comfortable, moving their books to the coffee table. Making sure she had his attention, she smiled. “I don’t understand how you got through school if your reading level was as low as you say.”
“Brian is hearing and went to the public school. When it was time for me to go, they talked my parents into sending me as well. Said they could provide me with exactly what I needed.”
“That didn’t happen?”
“Oh, I had an educational interpreter from the time I started, but that was probably worse. My speech wasn’t great, still isn’t, but back then no one understood me.
The assistant thought I was stupid or slow or maybe assumed this was how all deaf people are.
She did most of the work for me or helped me to the point I didn’t have to do much at all.
I never had to take the same tests as the others, or if I did, I had help. ”
“So you just slid by with no one knowing you hadn’t learned the curriculum.” Her sad face was more than he could bear.
“My parents aren’t great readers either, though they’re both far better than me. Carli and Deanna love to read, and Brian had the advantage of hearing.”
Mercedes tilted her head and pursed her lips. “How did Carli and Deanna become such good readers?”
“They both went to the North Shore School for the Deaf. My parents didn’t like that there were no other Deaf children to play with at the public school, so they sent them to a Deaf school. They did much better because they were surrounded by people like them.”
“They didn’t think to change your school once they saw Carli and Deanna doing better?”
“They asked me if I wanted to, but I’d already been there for a few years.
I’d developed lazy habits and didn’t want to leave the friends that I’d made there.
Guys can get together and play sports and roughhouse and still be okay.
They don’t need to do as much talking as women. ” He threw her a cocky grin.
She laughed. “Are you saying that women blabber too much?”
He held up his hand in defense. “I didn’t say that. You did.”
Thankfully, she always knew what to say to get him in a better mood.
The traffic to Cape Cod was awful, and Mercedes wished they’d thought to get off work a few hours early.
They’d first had to get through the rush hour Boston traffic, then cruise along at fifteen miles an hour down Route 3.
The worst part was she couldn’t even chat with Evan.
With the road congestion, he needed to pay attention to what the other cars were doing.
The last thing she wanted was to get in an accident because she was signing to him.
Every now and then, when they came to a full stop, he’d glance over and say something.
On the plus side, she could stare at his handsome profile for over an hour.
Once they’d gone over the Sagamore Bridge, the traffic split into those staying on the highway to the Upper Cape and those staying near the bridge, lucky enough to know the back roads.
Which they did because she’d grown up here.
Evan had also visited his grandparents often.