The effect was instantaneous. Courtney’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock, her hands moved automatically, responding in sign language. You know ASL?
Jonathan nodded, signing back with fluid precision. My son is deaf. We all use it at home. He extended his free hand to help her up, speaking aloud as he signed, “I’m Jonathan.”
Courtney took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. She was still staring at him like he just performed a miracle. Her hands moved rapidly. I’m Courtney. I can’t believe you know sign language. This never happens.
“I saw what happened,” Jonathan signed, his expression sympathetic. “I’m sorry. That guy is an idiot.”
A laugh burst out of Courtney, half sob, half genuine amusement. She signed back, Thank you. That’s exactly what he is. Then her hands slowed, becoming more uncertain. I’m sorry you had to witness that disaster.
Don’t apologize, Jonathan signed firmly. You did nothing wrong. They stood there in the doorway, two strangers communicating in silence while the café buzzed with conversation around them. And for the first time since she’d arrived, Courtney’s face showed something other than pain. She smiled. It was small, tentative, but real. Jonathan smiled back, and he was about to say something else. Maybe offer to buy her a coffee. Maybe just wish her a better rest of her day when the café door burst open with explosive force.
“Daddy!” Four voices shouted in unison. “Well,” three voices shouted. One child remained silent, but moved with the same excited energy as four six-year-old bodies came barreling through the entrance like a perfectly synchronized storm.
“Daddy, you have to come see,” Aurelia started, her long curly brown hair bouncing.
“There’s a dog at the park who knows tricks,” Orion continued, his short brown hair sticking up in different directions.
“And he can dance,” Leora added, her long curly brown hair flowing behind her.
All three speaking children stopped mid-sentence as they registered the scene before them. Their father standing very close to a strange woman holding her purse. Both of them clearly in the middle of a conversation.
Atlas, the silent one with short brown hair, was the first to notice his father’s hands. His sharp eyes caught the ASL position Jonathan’s hands had frozen in, and his face lit up with understanding and excitement. His hands moved rapidly, signing to his siblings.
Dad is signing with her. She knows our language.
Orion’s mouth fell open. Leora gasped. Aurelia’s entire face transformed into pure unadulterated hope.
“No,” Jonathan said immediately, recognizing the trajectory of this moment and signing sharply. Whatever you’re thinking.
But Atlas signed something else to his siblings, his small hands moving with excited precision. Is she deaf like me?
The question hung in the air and in their hands, visible, unmistakable, impossible to misunderstand. Courtney saw every movement of their small hands forming the signs. Her eyes went wide, her breath catching audibly. She looked from the children to Jonathan and back again, her own hands frozen halfway to her chest. Jonathan’s face went scarlet. Margaret made a strangled sound.
“Kids,” Jonathan signed sharply, mortification burning through every gesture. This is Courtney. She’s… she’s someone I just met. She had a bad day and I was helping her.
Jonathan signed apologetically to Courtney. I am so, so sorry. They don’t usually…
But Courtney wasn’t looking at Jonathan anymore. She was looking at the four children arranged before her like a jury about to deliver a verdict. And her eyes were filling with tears again. But these were different tears.
Atlas stepped forward. He was smaller than his siblings, his movements more careful, more deliberate, his hands moved in sign language, the gestures precise and heartfelt.
You’re deaf like me.
Courtney knelt down so she was eye-level with him, signing back. Yes, just like you.
Do people think you’re weird? Atlas signed, his young face serious.
Sometimes, Courtney signed honestly.
Us too, Atlas signed. Because we all sign at home.
Courtney’s expression crumbled and rebuilt itself in the span of a heartbeat. She signed to all four children.
Then those kids don’t understand that you’re special. You’re amazing. You’re perfect.
Aurelia signed and spoke, You know our special language. Everyone at school says we’re weird because we sign at home. You wouldn’t think we’re weird. And you’re pretty, Orion added with six-year-old pragmatism, signing as he spoke.
Leora, the gentlest of the four, simply signed. We’ve been looking for someone like you.
Atlas’s hands formed careful words. We’ve been waiting for someone like you.
Courtney’s laugh was half sob, half incredulous joy. Her hands shook as she signed back. I just met your father 60 seconds ago.
Jonathan wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. This was beyond mortifying. This was his children essentially proposing marriage to a stranger on his behalf in a public café. While said stranger had just experienced devastating rejection minutes earlier.
He started to sign another apology, but Courtney was laughing. Really, truly laughing. The sound was slightly unusual, the cadence of someone who couldn’t hear their own laughter, but it was genuine and full of joy. She signed to the children, How about we start by being friends? What are your names?
And just like that, Jonathan’s world tilted on its axis.
20 minutes later, they’d moved to a larger table. After Jonathan had apologetically asked Margaret if she could stay a bit longer, Margaret, bless her, had simply smiled knowingly and said she had nowhere to be. The children had come and deared Courtney completely. They were taking turns introducing themselves with the kind of elaborate detail only six-year-olds considered necessary.
Aurelia went first, her hands moving in careful signs. I’m Aurelia Celeste Meyers. I’m 6 and 3/4. I like pink and purple and horses even though I’ve never ridden one. I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up, but also maybe a princess.
Orion followed. I’m Orion James Meyers. I’m 6 and 3/4 too because we are quadruplets, which means we all came out on the same day. I like dinosaurs and space and making people laugh. I can burp the alphabet. He demonstrated this talent immediately, making it to G before Jonathan’s sharp look made him stop.
Leora was next, her signs gentle and precise. I’m Leora Mayers. I like reading and drawing and flowers. I’m glad you’re here.
Atlas signed last. His movements more careful than his siblings. I’m Atlas River. I’m the only one who can’t hear, but everyone learns sign language for me. I like science and building things and swimming.
Courtney looked at each child like they were the most precious things she’d ever encountered. She signed, Those are beautiful names. Do you know what they all mean?
Foreheads shook in unison.
Courtney’s hands moved as she explained. Atlas was a titan who held up the sky. Orion is a constellation, a group of stars. Leora means light in Hebrew, and Aurelia means golden in Latin.
She smiled at Jonathan. Someone chose very meaningful names.
Jonathan felt his face warm. My ex-wife chose them, he signed, then immediately regretted bringing Amy up. She was very into mythology and stars. If the kids noticed the mention of their mother, they didn’t show it. They were too busy being enchanted by Courtney’s presence.
Can we play a game? Orion signed excitedly.
And that’s how Jonathan found himself watching four children and one recently heartbroken woman play what they called silent charades. A game where everyone had to act things out without speaking or signing.
Leora tried to act out astronaut riding a dinosaur which mostly involved her making exaggerated stomping motions while pretending to float. Orion attempted pizza making itself, complete with spinning in circles and then flopping dramatically onto the floor as if he’d been tossed by an invisible pizza chef. Atlas did an impression of their teacher, Mrs. Maria, which was so spot-on that Courtney laughed until she snorted, then looked mortified, which made the kids laugh even harder.
“Your turn,” Aurelia signed to Courtney.
Courtney stood thinking for a moment, then began flapping her arms wildly before pretending to blow out candles.
Birthday! Atlas signed triumphantly.
Yes, Aurelia signed excitedly.
She turned to Courtney, her hands moving rapidly. Our birthday was last month. All four of us turned six on the same day because we’re quadruplets.
It was so fun, Orion added, signing enthusiastically. We had four cakes.
That’s not true, Leora signed with a small smile. We had one big cake.
It was big enough for four cakes, Orion insisted.
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