Browsing through the Google results of my “Parker, CO jobs” search, I found a site with job listings and started doing some clicking around. Concessions clerk at the movie theater in town was an idea and so was part-time stocker at the King Soopers grocery store.

I was onto the third page of job listings when another promising one caught my eye. The opening was for a part-time barista position at the Steaming Bean Café, that cute little place where Beau, Nina, and I had gone to study before finals. The café had been cozy and welcoming. I didn’t know much about making coffee, but it seemed like the perfect place for a first job.

Mom came wandering into the living room from the kitchen and set a cup of hot tea on the end table beside the couch where I sat working.

APPLY FOR JOB? she signed, tapping the lid of my laptop.

I nodded, signing, FOR COFFEE STORE.

The spark of excitement that lit up Mom’s eyes seemed genuine as she signed, YAY!

YOU WONDERFUL. She took a seat next to me on the couch. LUCK.

THANK YOU, I signed back. Probably I would need all the luck I could get.

REMEMBER SCHOOL IMPORTANT, Mom added as she glanced over the job listings pulled up on my laptop.

I KNOW, I agreed. PROMISE.

Mom’s brows pinched together. WHY YOU WANT JOB?

THINK . . . MAYBE TIME FOR NEW THINGS, I told her.

GOOD, Mom signed, giving me a nudge with her shoulder. PROUD, she added, squeezing my hand.

THANK YOU, I told her.

ALWAYS, she signed back.

The email came three days later. I’d been obsessively checking my email ever since I submitted those job applications and was hit with disappointment every time I saw there were no new messages in my inbox.

Beau had offered to drive me home from school, but I’d declined thanks to an after school doctor’s appointment with my new ENT, so we were waiting outside in the cold by the pickup loop. I think I let out a shriek when I saw I’d gotten a response from the Steaming Bean.

WHAT’S WRONG? Beau signed in alarm while I stood there, gaping at my phone.

HEY. Beau waved a hand near my face when I didn’t answer.

I didn’t think I could answer. I was suddenly terrified to open the email and see some kind of politely worded rejection there, something Mom told me I should prepare for just in case.

WHAT’S WRONG? Beau signed again.

NOTHING, I signed automatically. I . . . APPLY FOR JOB. THEY EMAIL ME.

He looked taken aback by the unexpected news, but he was smiling a second later and signing, READ!