Abby

The restaurant is closed for the evening, and it’s about time that I gather my team for an impromptu

meeting.

“Listen up, everyone. I know it’s been a long day, but we need to talk about something important.”

My eyes scan over the faces of my staff: Anton, the homeless chef who turns out to be a culinary genius;

Daisy, our beloved waitress who once worked the streets; Ethan, a war veteran with a limp who has

become my trusted restaurant manager; John, a single father with a past alcohol problem; and finally Karl,

my ex-husband turned line cook.

Anton sets down his ladle and wipes his hands on his apron. “Is everything okay, Abby?”

Enter title…

that I’m opening a can

to be

are you saying?

think we should be cautious,” I say. “I mean, come on, let’s

move away from. Ethan, you’ve got

scars, and—”

me off, a fierce look in his eyes that

ashamed

of me, and I feel my face flush. “I’m not ashamed.

to publish an article before

counter, shooting me a sideways look.

‘normal’, like we’re

be good to be proactive about it,

are we gonna do? Put

as messed up as

put it that way,

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