Shoulders drooped, as if weighted down with care, or sorrow; depression easily read on her face. Things had gone so well the day before, only to fall in a single morning. The date she had prayed for, now she feared would never happen.
Only a few hours ago, Rachel had such hopes for this day. Finally, she had thought, a man that would understand her disability, and not look on her as handicapped-- defective. Jim had seemed so kind, and genuinely interested in her, not turned off because she was deaf. But why had he not replied to her latest messages?
The thought crossed her mind many time that her friend may have been right about him. Though he had been interested in her, his past had caught up too soon.
Just my luck, she sighed in disgust of her life. I find someone who would be perfect for me, and he turns out to be an axe murdering terrorist.
Rachel was glad that the outside world was silent to her, as she closed herself off to everything. It was for the best, she thought, life had seldom worked the way she had planned. First off, with her friend pointing out faults in the man. Then, her brother Tim, who was to act as interpreter, having been called off to work was only the final straw. Jim's lack of a reply -- or inability to, if her friend was right -- was causing the most pain.
Slumped even further in her chair at the coffee shop, Rachel still waited for the date she felt would never happen. As she sipped her Mocha, cold by that point, it only made her day seem more hopeless.
She shook her head at the blandness of the cooled drink, and noticed the man at the counter. His attire showed him to be above average in wealth, as did the sad, bored expression on his face. Rich people always look that way, she thought.
The silent movement of his lips as he spoke to her, only seemed to drive home her lack of socialization skills. At first she thought to just smile and nod her head, like always, but thought it best to drive him off with the truth. She opened a notebook, jotted down a message, and turned it for him to read.
"Sorry. I am deaf." A puzzled look flashed in his eyes before he replied in perfect sign language.
"That's not a crime," His hands flowed before him. "I said, you look as bad as I feel."
"That bad, huh?" Rachel’s reply was only half-hearted at best, but as she started to turn away the man seemed intent on explaining.
"Just had an argument with my son. He has grown tired of my job relocating the family all the time."
"Must be rough." she signed back, not really paying much attention. "What kind of job keeps you traveling? Mission work?"
"Not hardly. I work for the government. Computer programming for the most part. But they send me where I am needed most."
"And he is wanting to stay in one place?" Rachel could see the value in such a thing, packing up every few years would drive her insane.
"So why the long face?" He signed to her after he placed his cup on her table.
"I met someone, but it doesn't look like it was meant to be."
"The social problems of the Deaf. I can relate to that. My wife was born deaf, so I can tell you, it is not always so gloomy."
"Yes, I know." Rachel replied, though in her heart she felt it was a lie, or near enough to one. She had prayed for years for that special someone, only to be hurt time and again.
Just then her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket and almost went unnoticed. As she dug frantically through her coat, her expression changed a hundred ways, from her state of depression to dancing in her chair from sheer joy.
"It's him," she told the stranger, as though he should understand her delight. “He said he is sorry he is late and is now on his way."
"The Lord hears our lowest cry, and answers with the greatest of blessings."
"I will be praying things work out as well between you and your son." Rachel signed a moment before the man turned for the door, though his slumped shoulders said he had little hope for it.
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