by E M Lindsey
By the time he arrived at his, Maisy was sleepy and let Derek carry her into the house and set her on the sofa with some princess show on Netflix. She declined her waffles, so he threw them into the freezer, then grabbed his softest blanket and laid it over the both of them. She curled up against his chest, a warm, comforting weight, and he started to drift off.
Derek jolted awake some time later, unsure how much time had passed. It took him a second to realize what had roused him, and he realized after a second it was his phone. Trying his best not to jostle a still-sleeping Maisy, he managed to dig the phone out of his pocket and saw Sam’s number on the ID.
“Yo, everything cool?” he asked.
Sam sighed quietly into Derek’s ear. “If you mean being forced to drive to fucking Denver to sit through another psych eval, then yeah. It’s peachy with a hefty side of fucking keen.”
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear the sleep-fog from his head. “Seriously? Again?”
“Beth’s boss wasn’t satisfied with the initial report, so they want me to sit through a psych eval, they want my OT records, and she thinks they’re going to make me sign up for some sort of like…coping with paralysis and how to live your life class in spite of the fact that I’ve been like this for an eternity and have taken care of May since she was nine goddamn months old.”
Derek felt a slow, simmering rage burning in his gut, but he swallowed it back. Sam had warned them all they’d need to get on board and help him jump through hoops rather than fight the system which would have been their first instinct. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “What can I do?”
“I called Kat. She has two early appointments today, but she said she can take May off your hands before your first booking if you want to just meet her at the shop.”
“I’ll give her a call,” Derek said, “but that sounds fine. And if she needs me to cancel,” he started.
“Dude, no,” Sam said in a rush. “You’re not going to cancel on anyone because of this. If Kat gets booked for whatever reason, Mat said he was only doing walk-ins today so he can cover, too. We’ve got this, and I’m going to breeze through and get the hell home.”
“Alright,” Derek said. He didn’t tell Sam that he would have almost welcomed an excuse to clear his schedule for the day. His head was still in a little bit of a post-panic fog and though he could work through that just fine, he could use the break. “Just drive safe and get home when you can. You know she’s in good hands with us.”
“The best hands,” Sam told him, his voice warm. “Kiss her for me and tell her to be good. I’ll call when I’m back on my way.”
“Will do. Talk later.” Derek ended the call, then pulled up his texts and shot off a quick one to his brother.
Derek: Where u at?
* * *
Sage: Work, u lazy fuck. Why?
* * *
Derek: I have May for the afternoon, more fuckery for Sam. Wanna grab lunch?
* * *
Sage: Hell yes, I miss the munchkin. Come in at 12. I’m helping Kat with Jazzy so we can get something.
Derek checked the clock and saw it was just gone eight, which would give him enough time to ease her awake, get her some breakfast and play time so she wouldn’t be a total monster when he took her down to the shop. Easing out from under her, he settled her against the cushions, then wandered into the kitchen to start his coffee maker. By the time his pot was brewed, Maisy was shuffling into the kitchen, her bare feet padding along the tile. She scrubbed at her eyes with one small fist, her other arm raised for him to pick her up.
Derek didn’t hesitate as he lifted her up, propping her against his hip as he walked to the freezer for her waffles. “You hungry, munchkin?”
She shrugged, yawning. “I want chocowat.”
Biting back a laugh, he said, “How about I toast them with a little butter and syrup?”
Wrinkling her nose, she squirmed in his arms. “Noooo. I wan’ it wike dis!” She made grabby hands at the open package, and before Derek could stop her, she’d seized one of the frozen discs and immediately started chewing on it. With vague horror, he let her slide down and stared at her before grabbing his phone and sending Sam a text.
Derek: This so-called child ur raising is eating a waffle frozen.
* * *
Sam: LOL yeah she does that. It’s fine. Pick your battles, man, and this ain’t one of them, trust me.
* * *
Derek: Gross, but ok.
It was the simple fact that Sam wouldn’t let Maisy do anything that might put her at risk that he let her continue eating the frozen breakfast, though he turned his attention to his coffee instead of the way she was tearing it to bits with her tiny little gremlin teeth.
When she was done, she skipped out of the room to play with her dolls, and Derek poured himself cereal just to keep his energy up. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and stared out the window. The morning was grey, the pavement still wet from the rain before, but it looked like it would clear up. It meant the day would be humid and a little ugly as they were hurtling from spring to summer faster than he cared about, but it also meant his semester was almost over and he wasn’t sad about that.
He felt a little weird being as old as he was and sitting in a classroom full of eighteen and nineteen-year-old kids. He understood, on a fundamental level, that there was nothing wrong with it. He and his brother had both been dealt a shit hand in life, and he’d just taken longer than Sage to reach a place he could be around large groups of people and balance both school work, his art, and his clients all at the same time.
It was still tough, and he still relished his freedom during summer, but he was starting to feel like he was making real progress. Even nights like last night, which even just a year ago would have made him felt like he’d gone ten steps backward, didn’t weigh on him the same way. Likely it was due to Leila, his therapist, giving him coping skills that were actually working, but it was also a testament to his own strength and desire to move on with his life.
He’d always have trauma, but he didn’t have to let it rule him.
“DeDe?” Maisy asked, pulling Derek out of his thoughts as she tugged on the bottom of his shirt.
He grinned down at here. “Yes, sweetpea?”
“Can we pway outside?”
He shrugged. “Why not. You wanna walk down the street to the pond and feed the ducks?”
She jumped with excitement, then tripped over her own feet in a haste to reach her shoes. “Yeah! Yeah I wanna…I wanna go!”
Chapter Three
Derek convinced Maisy to leave the ducks after an hour, and only when he promised that Jasmine would be at the studio when they got there. He parked his car around the back, then carried her inside through the employee entrance and found Katherine in her private room prepping for what looked like her next client.
Her head popped up from where she was cling-wrapping her supply table and she grinned. “Hey, baby girl! You come to see me?”
“Yeah,” Maisy said, wriggling out of Derek’s arms. He kept a hold on her so she couldn’t dart into the clean space, but Katherine quickly shed her gloves and walked out to lift the toddler into her arms, kissing her cheeks.
“Are you and DeDe gonna take Jazz and uncle Sage to lunch?”
“I want chicken nuggets,” Maisy said dutifully.
Derek rolled his eyes with a grin before taking the girl back into his arms. “And maybe something green?” he added. “Is my brother here?”
Kat nodded, jutting her chin at the swinging door which led to the open floor. “He’s out there getting Jasmine’s bag ready. Tony’s at the doctor’s today so Sage is literally saving my life.”
Derek frowned with worry. “Is he okay?”
“Yes,” she said with a sniff. “He has an ingrown toenail and didn’t fucking listen to me two weeks ago when it started getting disgusting, and now he gets to suffer through the pain of removal becaus
e he apparently knows better than his wife.”
Derek backed away. “Staying the hell out of that one.”
Kat laughed. “Wise. Anyway, I checked your schedule and it looks like I’m good to take the girls off your hands at two. You got someone at three, right?”
Derek nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a consult, then I have some line work to get done on one of my regulars which I think will be about two hours? Then I have my shading appointment at five-thirty, and that’s going to take up the rest of my afternoon. Why, you need me?”
“Nah,” she said, waving him off. “Tony will probably want to come fill in once he’s done. You know how he gets when someone fucks with his routine.”
“He has only himself to blame,” Derek said dutifully.
Kat winked at him before waving him off, and he walked through the doors, still holding Maisy’s hand. A head of soft lavender hair knocking against short, black spiked locks told him Emily and her husband Marcus were working on their sketch sheet together, and he spotted Mat bent over his drawing table next to his already wrapped tool bench.
“Hey, man,” Derek said to Mat, dropping a hand on his shoulder.
Mat looked up with a grin, reaching out with a hand to tickle Maisy under her chin. “Hey little one. Did you miss me?”
“No,” she said plainly.
Mat’s eyes widened with shock, making him looked like a kicked puppy which Derek found far too endearing. He and Mat were probably closest, as they had apprenticed together and shared a very similar style and some of their clients. Mat wasn’t the typical sort Derek was used to—soft-spoken and non-confrontational. But he’d grown on him like stubborn moss, and apart from Sam, was the person Derek trusted most with his own issues.
It helped Mat had his own. Years back, Mat’s car had been crushed by a drunk driver and he’d been in a coma for six months. He’d come out of it only to find himself needing to relearn nearly everything. And not everything had come back. During his hospital stay he’d managed to get back on his feet and regain his ability to speak, but he found himself still unable to understand written words and numbers—he claimed they all looked like an alien alphabet, and no amount of therapy had been able to get him back to where he’d been. The one thing he could do, though, was draw, and it had been a huge part of his therapy in the rehab center.
He had been married at the time too, but the stress had been too much for his wife who ended up leaving just as he was being released to live on his own. He’d moved to Fairfield after his divorce—needing to be away from a bigger city, but needing the comfort of knowing he could blend into a crowd. That was where he met Tony and Kat, and the rest was history. Tony and Kat’s shop was perfect for a tatted-up artist whose brain wouldn’t allow him to do his own accounting or book his own appointments, and he had fit into Irons and Works almost like he’d been around from the beginning. Mat mostly kept his personal life to himself, and no one pushed him to move on, though Derek couldn’t help but worry that his friend was starting to buckle under the weight of loneliness. It wasn’t his place though, so he kept his worry to himself.
“She’s just in a mood,” he told him. He gave Maisy a nudge toward the swinging half-door which led to the lobby. “Go on and see Sage,” he told her. “He has Jazzy waiting for you.”
Maisy perked up and hurtled herself out of the room and to the lobby where Derek heard his brother greet the toddler with enthusiasm. When he was sure the girl was in safe hands, he turned back to Mat and smiled.
“Don’t take it personally, dude.”
“I’m not,” Mat said, though his tone told a different story. “How are you doing? You have that look.”
Derek sighed, hating how much of his heart he wore on his sleeve, but he made it a habit not to lie to his family at the shop. “I had a rough night. Got stuck in one of those little ATM rooms at the bank after the power went out and had a nasty panic attack.”
Mat rose, taking Derek by one shoulder. “Shit, are you okay? Do you need me to take some of your clients tonight? I can move stuff around if you need time off.”
Derek smiled at him. “Thanks, but I’m good. I wasn’t alone, and the guy who got stuck in there with me kept me distracted. And anyway, watching May will help with the rest. Sam got called to fucking Denver to jump through more hoops for these fuckers, so I’ll have her for most of the day.”
Mat’s brows dipped, his expression going dark. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Derek said from behind a sigh. “They’re making him sit through another psych eval, and he said May’s case-worker—or her boss, or something—wants him to do another like life skills class to prove that he can parent with a disability.”
“Those fucking fucks,” Mat growled.
“Trust me, I know.” Derek unclenched his fists when he felt his arm muscles begin to burn with the tension. “But I promised not to say anything. I have a feeling they’re going to send a few more suits in here to make sure we’re not like dealing drugs or sacrificing virgins, so we should be prepared.”
Mat rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell Tony when he gets in.”
“Alright.” Derek laughed when Jasmine’s loud squeal pierced the quiet of the room. “I should head out before the princesses start a revolt against how long it’s taking to get their lunch. You working late?”
“All-nighter. Sage asked me to take walk-ins for him this evening, so I’ll be around.”
“I’ll bring you something later if you want. Just text me.” Derek cupped the back of Mat’s neck and squeezed before stepping away and heading for the low swinging door. He found his brother holding Jasmine by her ankle, two inches above the soft leather couch cushion, and the little girl was giggling her head off. “If Tony saw that, he’d cut your…walnuts off and give them to you in a jar.”
Sage laughed as he righted the girl and smacked a kiss on her cheek. “Tony trusts me with his life. Anyway, who’s hungry?” he signed the words with one hand, and both Jasmine and Maisy clapped their hands as he led the way out.
Basil pointedly ignored his sister as he lost himself in arrangements. Spring was their busiest time—they had Mother’s Day, graduation, spring weddings, and religious celebrations which kept them working from open to close. Being able to make money like this helped his ire at living in such a quaint little town. It was modern and trendy, but had the small-town feel to it which for him meant the over-enthusiasm of locals who were doing everything in their power to pretend like they were cool with deafness. It always amused him the way that hearing people thought he would benefit in any way from their yelling, or the way they would speak without sound and exaggerate their words, or the way they just couldn’t accept that he didn’t read lips.
He could catch a few things, but people didn’t want to accept that being Deaf from birth made it a little difficult for him to understand the concept of speech, and frankly he found English confusing and frustrating. There were just too many goddamn words that could easily be said with expression instead, and why all of the plurals and tenses and conjunctions and articles?
He never really understood his sister’s desire to assimilate. They’d both been raised by Deaf parents, in the Deaf Community, but he figured it had something to do with just how social she was. She hated being left out of any conversation, hated not being included in everything. His parents had always told him not to worry about it, that she’d find her own way, and he tried not to feel betrayed when she began living her life mostly verbal and rarely taking out her hearing aids, and applying to universities on the west coast.
Frankly, if it hadn’t been for the accident, for the death of their parents and their aunt and uncle, and being left the flower shop, she might have just stayed in LA and made herself a comfortable life there amongst the people she’d grown to love. He couldn’t help but wonder if she resented him for it, when he’d asked her to help him get the shop back up and running.
He wouldn’t have blamed her. Hell, he resented it enough himself th
at in the end she’d been right when she pointed out he was going to need help from someone who could communicate with most of the town. And he couldn’t help but appreciate that she’d been the one to stay, because the idea of hiring some stranger to work with him made his stomach twist in ugly ways.
He just didn’t trust people. He’d dropped his guard once—and only once—and it had left a big enough scar he wasn’t anxious to do it again. Ama was forever giving him shit about it, for the way he shut down and just stopped trying, but she had never let humiliation stop her from moving forward.
Basil just wasn’t that kind of guy.
He’d met Chad when he was at University. Chad was interning for some Senator in DC but was staying near campus because he’d found a sublet with cheaper rent, and he ended up frequenting the coffee shop where Basil was working. He was attractive, which Basil had to admit even to this day Chad had a charismatic charm about him that was hard to ignore. Up to that point, Basil had never given a hearing guy the time of day, but he watched Chad navigate the mostly-Deaf run coffee shop with ease, taking it in stride when they didn’t bother to accommodate him, and watched week after week as he picked up more and more of the common signs thrown around the place.
He also watched Chad watch him—it was blatant, there was no way to miss how Chad’s deep blue eyes followed him around every time he moved from the coffee bar to the ice bin to the pastry window. And the way Chad would sometimes wait until Basil was at the register before ordering. And he’d been charmed the day Chad had raised a shaky hand and looked as nervous as a newborn foal when he curled his fingers into the letters of his name.
His friends encouraged him to go for it, not deterred by the fact that Chad was one of them—the hearing people who outside of this insular community and campus, would treat him like a second-class citizen. Chad was trying, they told him, and he was hot, and he obviously liked Basil.