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CHAPTER SEVEN

TAMERON

“You’re not Dayton,” I said to the guy who opened the door in what had to be the stupidest comment ever. Was he Dayton’s roommate? I vaguely recalled Nash mentioning a roommate.

‘Are you Tameron?’ he signed.

Oh, he was Deaf? ‘Yes.’

‘Come in.’ He signed something I couldn’t follow, then ‘Will be right back.’

I repeated the unknown sign. ‘Is that Dayton’s sign name?’

The man grinned as he stepped aside and let me pass him, then closed the door behind me. ‘Yes. I’m Dax.’ He fingerspelled his name. ‘I’m Dayton’s brother.’

Ah, that made sense. ‘Nice to meet you. You said Dayton would be back?’

‘He’s helping a neighbor move a washing machine.’

That sounded like him, all right. Rescuing kittens out of trees, running into burning buildings, helping people move heavy furniture—all in a day’s work for him. And on top of that, he was fluent in ASL as well. Was there anything the man couldn’t do?

‘What do you do?’ I asked him. We had just finished a unit on professions, so this was great practice. And Dax was nice about it, signing slowly and clearly so I had no issues following him.

‘Car mechanic. I own my own garage.’

My eyes widened. ‘True-Biz? I love tinkering with cars.’

‘You were Army?’

‘Yes. I worked with munitions. Ordnance specialist.’ I fingerspelled the last part because it wasn’t a common profession.

‘And now?’

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

I’d tried some odd jobs, but it wasn’t easy when you had as many limitations as I did.

Between the dizziness, the hearing issues, the frequent medical appointments, and everything else, I was highly unreliable for any employer.

I couldn’t blame anyone for not hiring me, but it left me adrift.

Also, if Bean, with his shitty memory, could find a job, why couldn’t I?

The difference was that he’d made his hobby—cooking—into his job.

I didn’t have hobbies. My recovery was all I had time for, especially emotionally, and when I wasn’t studying or taking some kind of class, I was watching TV and pretending I was fine, everything was fine. I’d become really good at that.

But that was way more than Dax wanted to know, so instead, I shrugged. ‘I take classes and focus on getting better. Still figuring out the rest.’

‘If you want to tinker with cars, you’re always welcome.’

Really? He’d offer me just like that? The man didn’t even know me, and I couldn’t imagine Dayton singing my praises to his brother. I’m sure when he told him I was coming, the words ‘dick’ and ‘asshole’ had been used. ‘Thank you. That’s very nice of you to offer.’

He shrugged. ‘No big deal. It’s hard to figure out what you want to do.’

‘You didn’t always want to be a mechanic?’

He waggled his hand. ‘I didn’t know if it was possible. I worked for a boss for a bit, but that didn’t go well. None of my coworkers signed, so communication was challenging.’

I didn’t spot hearing aids, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them. ‘You have no residual hearing?’

‘A little, but mostly low tones. The problem was that they always had music on when we were working, which meant I couldn’t hear anything else. So I would take my hearing aids out, but then I couldn’t hear them when they called me, so they got annoyed.’

That was exactly what I feared about working anywhere. I had more residual hearing than Dax did, but for how long? The doctors had made clear that my hearing would only deteriorate over time—one of the reasons I’d gotten serious about learning ASL.

‘You own your own shop now?’

‘I do. I communicate with clients through text or email and put my hearing aids in when needed. But I have a lot of customers from the Deaf community who are all too happy to be able to communicate with their mechanic more easily.’

That was the alternative to a job in the hearing world.

I could explore options within the Deaf community.

But was my ASL good enough for that yet?

I knew Dax was slowing down for me, and so did Dayton.

Both could sign much faster than they did with me—and so would others.

I’d have to really step up my game to be able to communicate.

But even then, was that where I fit in? I wasn’t part of the Deaf community and didn’t consider myself deaf.

Not yet. I was hard of hearing, and with my aids, I could function relatively well.

But again, that was now. God only knew where I’d be five years from now.

‘I’m glad you found your place,’ I finally said when Dax looked at me funny.

I had a habit of getting lost in my own head in the middle of a conversation. And that was something I couldn’t blame on my hearing loss, though it had certainly not helped.

‘You will find yours too,’ Dax said, and it took me a moment to realize he meant I’d be finding my place, where I fit in.

The appropriate reaction probably would’ve been a thank you or affirming that I had no doubt I would, but I couldn’t get those words out, not when they would’ve been a lie. ‘I hope so. It’s hard.’

Okay, being honest was one thing, but opening up to a total stranger? One who happened to be related to the one man I already clashed with all the time? That was a recipe for disaster.

But Dax put a warm hand on my shoulder. ‘You have a support system to help you. Dayton will be there for you if you ask him.’

Dayton? He would, but out of a sense of obligation, not because he genuinely wanted to. The man had offered me friendship out of some misplaced sense of pity, probably. Hadn’t he told me I looked like I could use a friend?

Duty. That was the word I was looking for. Dayton was all about duty and doing the right thing. Rescuing and saving people. And that was what I was to him—another guy to save. No thanks.

‘I have friends who are there for me,’ I told Dax. I fingerspelled Nash’s name. ‘He owns the house we live in, and he’s great.’

‘He is. I’ve met him.’

Right. Of course he had. Dayton and Nash were friends. I still wasn’t used to Nash having this whole life outside our group. Not that I was upset about it or jealous or anything, but it was weird. ‘Then you know I have all the support I need.’

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing, but then he pulled up one shoulder. ‘It never hurts to have more friends.’

It did if they weren’t real friends but only helped out of a sense of duty, but I was spared an answer when I heard a key in the door and Dayton stepped inside. “Sorry, I was helping a neighbor move a heavy washing machine.”

He spoke and signed simultaneously, but if I truly wanted to practice, I needed to learn to rely on ASL only. Besides, it felt somehow rude toward Dax. ‘Dax told me.’

‘He’s gonna come to my shop and tinker with cars with me,’ Dax said.

Dayton’s face lit up with surprise. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he had the worst poker face ever. ‘You like cars?’

‘My father has a 1955 Chevy 3100 pickup truck that he has fully restored himself. He started on it when I was ten, and I helped him. We spent whole Saturdays on it, and I loved it. We finally finished when I went to Basic Combat Training, and he bought a 1964 Mustang convertible that he’s still working on. ’

The memories of my dad and me talking and shooting the shit while painstakingly fixing that car were the best childhood stories I had.

Even now, they brought a smile to my face.

How I wish I could get that time back. My parents loved me, but they had no clue how to support me in this, how to handle my hearing loss.

‘Those are some classic cars,’ Dayton said. ‘That must’ve been great to share that with your dad.’

I nodded.

‘Ready for some practice?’ Dayton asked.

Right. I wasn’t here to make friends—though Dayton had offered that, which still baffled me. It had to be a pity offer, right? ‘Yes.’

‘I’ll leave you guys to it. Nice meeting you,’ Dax said.

‘You too.’

I followed Dayton into the living room, where, with a loud meow, Knives immediately came running toward us.

I was on my knees before I realized it, and she didn’t even hesitate before coming straight to me.

Her fur was soft as she rubbed herself against my hand, purring.

I could feel the vibrations through my hand and grinned.

She was a happy little thing, wasn’t she? “Aren’t you the cutest?”

She peered up at me with those big eyes and my insides melted. I picked her up and held her close to my chest, where she happily continued purring.

“Do you like it here with Daddy Dayton?”

A choked sound behind me made me turn around. Dayton was coughing, turning red.

I frowned. “Are you okay?”

He held up a hand as he coughed some more, then seemed to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he croaked. “The Daddy comment caught me off guard.”

Oh. Oh. “I didn’t mean that kind of Daddy. I meant like a pet-daddy, a cat-daddy.”

“Now he tells me.”

“We call Nash Daddy all the time.”

Dayton seemed to have recovered. “Sure, but he is a bit of a Daddy to you all, isn’t he?”

“You’re saying you’re not the same type? You rescue kittens from trees, encourage people to exercise, help folks with their homework… Sounds like a Daddy to me.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he said after studying me for a few beats. “And that’s a little worrisome.”

I chuckled. “I promise I’m not suggesting you become a Daddy to anyone other than Knives. I’m just saying you shouldn’t point fingers at Nash when you’re very much like him.”

“We’re not that similar,” he protested, and his voice held a bit of a sharp edge that I couldn’t place.

Why didn’t he like being compared to Nash?

They were friends, and Dayton knew how much Nash meant to me, so why wouldn’t he take it as a compliment?

Hell, if I could figure that man out. Every time I thought things were improving, we took two steps back again.

So I sighed. “Whatever. It’s not important.”