Chapter Thirty-Five. Dreams Come True
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dreams Come True
Six Months Later
“ You’re late!” I gripe as DAYDREAM comes bowling through the doors of the new and improved Nielsen Family Deaf Center.
“
Mateo is the first to hug me, followed by Calum. Will greets Ginger first—after obtaining permission and assuring me he took Zyrtec—then quickly side-hugs me.
Lachlan embraces me last, then rubs an apologetic fist around his chest and side-eyes Felix. “We’re late because, surprise, surprise, Lix got lost.”
My focus shifts to Felix, and I cock a brow. “Seriously? You’ve driven here dozens of times and you still don’t know the way?”
He shrugs while shuffling toward me. He pecks my forehead. “You look beautiful,” he signs, lower lip jutted, his “you can’t possibly be mad at me” face. And damn it, I can’t be mad at that cute face.
On the other end of the lobby, Jo circles a claw-shaped hand on her sternum, “Make-me-disgusted.” Beside her, Ava beams ear to ear and clasps a hand over her heart.
I sigh, but my frustration is gone. “You’re beautiful, too,” I return Felix’s compliment.
Though we’re already behind schedule, I pause to take him in.
His natural, healthy black hair that’s styled in a shorter, shaggy wolf cut and light BB cream that gently emphasizes his features make him look more human.
Like Felix from Seattle—a nineteen-year-old guy who happens to be in a famous boy band.
Like my boyfriend, who happens to be America’s Sweetheart.
All the boys look real now, but they still have a splash of teenage superstar glamour. They can’t completely abandon their brand.
After the tour ended—and after hearing my genius advice—the boys met with their corporate overlords and served an ultimatum: Make changes or lose DAYDREAM.
It was a huge risk, considering their six-year non-compete clause, but a good lawyer of their own plus their recent success had the label agreeing to the majority of their demands.
Most changes were minor: They can wear the clothes they want as long as they’re not too Sk8er Boi, emo-kid chic; record some original songs; and play their instruments. Lachlan even got permission to wear his eyebrow piercing in public!
But the biggest, and best, change was Necktie being fired and replaced by Layla, a Black woman with long purple locs, who is a strategic yet compassionate manager that actually listens to the band. That’s karma.
I’m incredibly biased, but I like them better this way. These are the boys I know and love.
“You ready?” Felix asks. He looks past me with a hopeful yet cautious smile.
I turn as Mom re-enters the lobby after quadruple-checking everything is ready to be unveiled. Even after months of revamping, she’s paranoid something will be out of place or unfinished. But the rooms are perfect. Everything is perfect.
“We’ve been ready for ten minutes,” Mom replies. “That’s a bad color on you,” she changes the subject, pointing to the Shrek-green sweater underneath Felix’s BURBERRY trench coat. She pats his cheek as she walks off.
Felix and I exchange pleased looks. She’s warming up to all the changes in our lives one blunt comment at a time.
She flicks the lobby lights to get everyone’s attention. “The event’s starting soon!” I interpret for her, and the boys gather in front of the doors.
Before we head outside, Jo snags my wrist and leads Ginger and me behind the front desk. She hands me a gift-wrapped box. I tear through the paper, and my breath catches. A wooden frame encases one of Dad’s and my drawings for what we wanted the Center’s lobby to look like.
It’s the last sketch we ever did together.
I run my fingers over the glass, landing on our signatures scrawled in the bottom corner.
“You made it a reality. Look.” She motions between the lobby and the sketch. They’re nearly identical.
“We did it together,” I correct, then wrap my not-so-little sister in a hug.
Eventually, she frees herself and turns to the wall behind the desk. She hangs the drawing on two nails she insisted we put there yesterday.
I beam at her, and against my will, wetness forms in my eyes. “KissFist. Thank you.”
“Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup!” she warns, then links our arms, leading Ginger and me into the cold February air.
Outside, a large crowd has gathered: D/deaf folks and their families and friends, volunteers and sponsors, local ASL teachers and interpreters, some disability advocates, reporters, and one of my favorite Deaf-Hard of Hearing authors.
Cameras roll and photographers snap pictures as the band members organize themselves behind the red ribbon in front of the building.
Ava heads for where Mr. and Mrs. Song are mixed in with the crowd, but Felix snags her hand and positions her in front of him, keeping her close during this big moment. Jo, Ginger, and I stand in the front, and Mom’s behind us.
“Thank you for coming to the Nielsen Family Deaf Center’s Grand Reopening!
” I use SimCom so everyone can understand me.
“My family always dreamed of making a difference in the Deaf community.
To teach sign, push for inclusivity and accommodation, and show people, Deaf and Hearing, our beautiful world.
“And thanks to our generous sponsors, and the help of the Daydream Foundation”—I gesture toward the band, who flash genuine, toothy smiles—“we’ve taken a huge step toward accomplishing that!”
Pure joy overwhelms me as the crowd erupts in applause.
Jo steps forward with a pair of comically oversized scissors. I hold one side of the handle, and she takes the other. Together, we cut through the ribbon and ring in a new era of community, diversity, and joy.
My heart threatens to explode as my beloved Deaf Center fills with people for the first time in years.
Children crowd around a volunteer who’s conducting an ASL storytime, Ava mingles with other D/deaf teens, and parents tour remodeled rooms and learn about our after-school programs and weekend day camps.
Mr. and Mrs. Song and Mom sign with one another in the main classroom. Jo hands out pamphlets, and Will follows her and takes photos for our social media.
The Center my parents built from the ground up, my second home, is finally what Dad envisioned. I wish he could see it.
After an hour of giving interviews, socializing, and personally thanking sponsors, I station myself by the front desk. It provides a vantage point to observe everything and greet people coming and going.
“Have a great night!” I tell Sabrina, Frank, and Frank’s girlfriend Janet as they leave.
“Goodnight!” Frank signs, then, turning to Janet, he yells: “NATALIE SAID GOODNIGHT, HONEY!” He resumes pushing Janet’s wheelchair, and Sabrina apologizes as they step outside.
“I love Frank,” Ethan, one of our volunteers, signs with a chuckle. “You told me you wanted to introduce me to someone, right?”
I grin mischievously and lead him down the hall, accompanied by Ginger.
We enter the K–5 room, and I spot Lachlan and Felix in the corner. Lachlan chats with a young couple while Felix entertains a baby with cochlear implants. The baby has their chubby fists wrapped in his hair and giggles as he makes funny faces.
I wait for a pause in the conversation. Eventually, the parents reclaim their baby. The baby flaps their little hand at me as the family leaves, and I melt.
“Hey,” Lachlan greets using SimCom. He glances between Ethan and me.
“This is E-T-H-A-N, sign name Ethan. He’s nice, cute, and smart!” Then I turn toward Ethan and gesture to Lachlan. “Ethan, this is L-A-C-H-L-A-N. He’s above average.”
Lachlan scoffs, and I stifle a chuckle. The pair blink at each other for a second. “Nice to meet you,” Ethan signs with red cheeks.
A similar blush creeps onto Lachlan’s face. “You … come here often?”
Felix snorts at his best friend’s clunky flirting. I take him to the lobby. “So you’re a matchmaker now?” he teases. “Might wanna help Mateo. He’s floundering.”
I crane my neck and peer into the community room, where Mateo’s doing something with his hands, but definitely not signing, to Jo. Will awkwardly teeters near them. Poor guy must be cursed to always be a third wheel. “It’s great immersive practice,” I joke. I doubt Jo minds being his teacher.
Felix spins me around to face him, his grip on my hand tightens as he leans against the wall. “I’m proud of you.” His signs are steady and genuine, and the depth of emotion is clear in his eyes.
I glance at the new framed picture of Dad’s and my sketch.
“He’s proud, too, love,” he signs.
Triumph laced with heartache materializes as tears. Like Frank can’t stop yelling, or Felix can’t stop being annoying and hot, I can’t stop tearing up whenever I think about Dad. But tonight, it’s mostly happy. Because we did it. We made his dreams—our dreams—come true.
“How do you feel?”
“Good,” I reply, though it doesn’t nearly encapsulate my emotions. “I really think the Center will change a lot of lives.”
Felix nods, strands of black hair falling in his eyes. “I agree.”
I inch closer and brush the wisps away, running my free hand through his hair. “Thank you for everything, baby.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.
He leans into it. I let him push the boundaries but quickly break away since this is a family-friendly event.
He pulls back with a dangerously radiant grin. “We should celebrate!” He pretends to think deeply about what this “special celebration” could be, tapping fingers on his chin. “Ah! How would you feel about going on a trip with me?” A glimmer of mischievousness dances in his eyes.
I quirk a suspicious brow. “What does ‘a trip’ mean?”
“Our first world tour is this summer … And I want you to come,” he signs, then adds, “Tokyo and Berlin have some great gluten-free bakeries!”
I freeze, letting the news sink in. I knew this was coming. America’s hottest boy band can’t become the world’s hottest boy band without, you know, traveling the world.
After processing, I laugh. “Loving you is never going to be easy, is it?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Yeah, nah, I don’t reckon it will be. But y’know what?”
“What?”
“It’ll never be boring.” He winks.