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Henry joins us when we move to the pickup line.
“Thank you so much,” my new friend says. “I’m June.”
“Hi, June. I’m Yaya and this is my best friend Henry.”
June’s smile widens just a tad when she looks at Henry. She touches her hearing aid nervously and signs, “We’re all wearing aids.”
“And we all sign. Doesn’t it feel good to meet your people?” I grin.
Relief seeps through her expression and it makes me want to give her a hug.
I’ve been there. It’s challenging to sign boldly in public without an interpreter. People stare. They’re impatient, sometimes even aggressive.
It’s hard living in a world that caters to everyone else. Poor June got yelled at for something that wasn’t even her fault. And Henry got dumped after his girlfriend had enough of him. It would make anyone want to shrink into themselves.
It’s why community is so,soimportant. Meeting Henry inside the modeling industry was a small miracle. We’ve been through so much together. Supported each other. Uplifted each other. I can’t help but treasure him.
“Do you both identify as deaf?”
“Henry does,” I sign. “I identify as small-d deaf or hard of hearing. It depends on who I’m talking to.”
My watch buzzes.
I take out my phone.
Sullivan: Enjoying your coffee?
I frown.
Yaya: Stalking much?
Sullivan: Not stalking. Someone uploaded a video of you and tagged me in it.
He sends the link to the video.
And he’s right. Someone filmed us and published it already.
The internet truly can be frightening.
Sullivan: I’m heading to the shoot from a meeting. Do you need a ride?
I check the time on my phone. It would be more convenient to ride with Sullivan but, after Henry’s warnings, I think it’s better I keep a professional distance.
Yaya: I’ll find my own way.
Pocketing my phone, I turn to June, “I have to go.” I feel Henry’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet his gaze when I sign, “I have a meeting now. But June, you should give Henry your phone number. We should all meet up sometime.”
“I’d like that,” June signs, looking at Henry again.
My best friend glares at me.
I give him a little wave and dart out of the coffee shop.
As I walk into the sunshine, my thoughts drift back to Henry’s speech.
‘There’s some part of you that believes he’s good’was what mom told me earlier, but I’d rather go with Henry on this one.
I haven’t known Richard Sullivan long enough to call him ‘good’.
