Two Words That Started It All
She walked over, nerves buzzing. The man turned toward her, expecting another blank stare.
Catherine raised her hands and signed, “Hello. Help?”
The change was immediate. His entire face lit up. “You sign!” he replied in fluid ASL. “Thank goodness. I thought no one here could understand me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Catherine signed back. “What can I help you with?”
“I’m here to see my son,” he explained. “I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping to see him for a few minutes.”
“What’s your son’s name?”
He hesitated, then signed proudly: “Michael Hartwell.”
Catherine’s stomach dropped. Michael Hartwell—the CEO. The man whose top-floor office was practically a myth among interns.
“Mr. Hartwell is your son?” she signed, trying to stay calm.
He nodded. “Yes. I know he’s busy, but I was nearby.”
Looking at him, Catherine saw the truth behind his polite smile: a father unsure if his son still wanted him around.
“Please wait here,” she signed gently. “I’ll see what I can do.”
