Page 64 of The Warmth of Our Closest Star

I didn’t know what to say. I could only smile.

“I…do I need to fill out an application?”

He waved me off as though this was the most ridiculous thing ever.

“You’ll have to fill out some forms with HR for the transfer, but the job is yours if you want it. You’ll go into training as soon as you’re done with your citizenship.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Wonderful,” Mr. Barton clapped his hands. “It’s entry-level, but there is a lot of room for growth and many opportunities for promotions if you stick with it.”

I chewed at my lip. “That sounds fine. But I suppose I should ask how much it pays?”

Mr. Barton had to find a paper on his desk, obviously with the job description and details, but he finally read a number off to me. I said nothing in response. Not because I had nothing to say, but because I was afraid to say anything. The amount Mr. Barton had read off was more than the salaries of my two previous jobs put together.

I would be working the same number of hours every week but for double the pay. At a desk. Not hunched over a dirty toilet or getting blisters from mop handles. There were no words I could think of that could express my gratitude and excitement in a professional way to Mr. Barton. I found that I wanted to cry.

I had sent out good to the universe, and it had proved it was listening.

“Thank you.”

I finally managed to croak out an acceptable response.

“Does that sound okay?” Mr. Barton looked concerned.

“Yes,” I said. “Of course. I’m just…thank you.”

It took a moment, but a look of recognition seemed to cross Mr. Barton’s face, and he seemed to warm immediately. A soft smile graced his lips and he stretched an arm out over his desk, his hand presented to me. Without another thought, I took his hand and did my best to shake it without showing how excited I was by his offer.

When we finally let go of each other’s hands, Mr. Barton clapped his hands together again.

It was a habit of his, a way to give himself time to think of what he wanted to say next.

“One final thing, Enzo,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Do you know anything about Excel?” he asked, waving a frustrated hand at his computer. “This has been driving me crazy all morning.”

With a laugh, I rose from my seat and rounded his desk. Over the next twenty minutes, I gave Mr. Barton a crash course in the program he was using. When I finally left his office to finish cleaning the restrooms, he told me that he knew I’d be one of his best employees, then thanked me for the help.

He said nothing, nor indicated it was true, but I felt that him pretending to not understand Excel had merely been a test. I didn’t mind.

Though I was still exhausted, I felt light as a feather for the rest of the morning.

What did the Emancipation Proclamation do?

Who becomes the President if the current President and Vice President can no longer serve?

Who is the current Speaker of the House?

Who signs bills to become laws?

What did the Declaration of Independence do?

When was the Constitution written?

Who is the “Father of Our Country”?