LOGIN“So, give,” I said. “Tell me how you did it.” I tilted my head and gave Derek my most winning smile. He leaned back in his chair, still favoring his lower back. For a moment it seemed like he’d stand on his dignity and wouldn’t answer me, but he gave up with a sigh.“Right,” he said quietly. “Well, it turned out that getting those reservations was more difficult than I anticipated.” He looked off to the side, his expression haunted.I followed his gaze, but it was just a guy dressed as Pikachu. Nothing to look so traumatized about. In the background the children were eating fried rice served in the shape of a star and entering a state of food-induced bliss. The chaos had settled into a low hum of contented chewing. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “Yesterday, Kimura told me the only way he’d give me a reservation for nine people…” He looked down, covering his eyes with his hand. “Was if I filled in for his sick busboy.”I stared at him. Derek—the man who wore silk shirts be
The children had made some changes to their orca poster. They’d added a few sharks. And a sinking yacht… with little figures of people flailing around in the water. “I hope your father never sees that,” I said to Emma. “He’s always wanted a yacht.” “They’re bad for the fish,” she told me seriously. “Now what do you think of this one?” She held up a pretty green dress with flowers embroidered on the bodice. “It’s lovely,” I said. “Now go change. We don’t want to be late.” She scampered off, and I turned to Ethan. He showed me a pair of black jeans, then rummaged around in his dresser. He found a shark t-shirt and held it up with a sly smile. “Now, now,” I said. “Derek’s coming with us, you know.”Ethan went very still. “He’s the one who got us the reservations,” I explained. “If it wasn’t for him, we might have to go to Burger King or something.”Ethan relaxed slightly.“There’s that anime convention this weekend,” I continued, “and Samurai Sizzle is absolutely slammed. It’s a ki
“First, you must prepare,” Kimura said. He led me to a small space just behind the kitchen. It was relatively quiet here, but I could still feel the frantic pace as people in chef’s hats chopped and diced. Heat radiated off the burners in waves and I started to sweat.“Is this like Walmart?” I asked. “Because, all due respect to Sam Walton, who made a shit ton of money, I don’t want—”“Silence!” Kimura roared. None of the chefs flinched. They kept their heads down, focused and intense.“Before work, mind must be still, like quiet pond. Sit.” He pointed to a small, wooden stool.I sat. The seat was hard and my knees started to hurt right away.“Close your eyes. Meditate. If your mind wanders, I will help you.”I closed my eyes. This is ridiculous, I thought. I’m losing $40,000 an hour in billable potential to sit on a stool wearing orange polyester. I started thinking about the next quarter’s earning projections. Then I started thinking about the cat girl from earlier. I shifted my w
Bernard was not helpful. “Duude, you want a reservation at Samurai Sizzle? Tomorrow? You do know Baka Breakdown is on Saturday?”“No,” I replied, my voice rising in frustration. “I don’t even know what a Baka Breakdown is!”A group of people waiting outside the restaurant stared at me. One of them laughed. I turned away from them. Lowering my voice, I said, “C’mon Bernard, you’ve always come through for me in the past. You’re the man. Surely there must be something you can do?”“Don’t call me Shirley,” he replied automatically. “But maybe there is something I can do… Hang on a minute.”I hung on, watching as people in brightly-colored Asian-style costumes walked in and out of the restaurant. Maybe I should just give up and admit defeat. Just call Claire and tell her that what she wanted was impossible. And then she’d call Whittaker, who’d probably pull the reservations out of his back pocket. Where he kept stuff like that to impress much, much younger associates, so he could corrupt
“Hey, Derek.” Claire sounded stressed, but that deep note of despair was gone from her voice. “Claire.” I tried to seem calm and collected. Hearing her voice wasn’t causing my heart to beat faster. It wasn’t. I was just glad that she’d pulled herself out of her funk. After all, she was the mother of my child. Emma deserved a mother who was up to the job. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. I tensed.“Um, listen,” she said. “I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?”Yes! She needed my help. She missed me! She was finally realizing how empty her life was without me in it.“Sure,” I replied, my voice deep like John Wayne. “What do you need?”“Do you think you could get a reservation for—” There was some murmuring on her end. “—for eight at Samurai Sizzle tomorrow night? It’s Ethan’s birthday and I kind of promised him samurai fruit salad.” “Oh.” Ethan. Blake Miller’s kid. Why did she have to take him in, anyway? After what Miller did? If it wasn’t for me, he would have killed
“Why don’t you sit down at your desk?” Kurt said. “You’re back at work today, right?” He smiled with a casual charm that drew me in despite my doubts. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Just until school lets out,” I said. “Then I need to pick up the children.”“Well then,” he said. He pulled out my desk chair for me and gestured towards it. I sat down and put my purse in the bottom drawer where it lived while I was at work. I put my hands on my desktop and smiled. I was back.Kurt picked up a tablet from his desk. “Okay. So, I’ve been looking over the rehabilitation metrics for the older children,” he said. “We’re losing a lot of them between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. They feel like they don’t have a bridge, a way into a productive life.”I nodded, impressed. “Yes, it’s called the ‘cliff effect.’ Once they age out their benefits, the world expects them to just… be okay.”“Exactly.” Kurt nodded. “I was thinking—and tell me if this is too corporate—what if Steps to Freedo
I tugged at my arm, but my harasser had a good strong grip.“Be patient, babe,” he muttered. “Got a nice truck. Crew cab. Plenty of room in the back seat.” He leered at me.I whimpered. For some reason, I couldn’t get it together to scream. Fight back. Anything. I was too groggy and weak. It was al
Emma waved a squishy bunny toy. “Look, Mom!” she said. “Nicholas gave it to me!” She yawned delicately, covering her face with her hand.I smiled at the paramedic and thanked him. He finished packing up and waved goodbye. Ethan showed me and Adrian his squishy fish. The children looked rumpled and
My daughter sat quietly on the couch, watching TV with the sound turned off. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and someone who didn’t know her might think she looked peaceful. But I knew better. Her posture was rigid with disappointment she was trying very hard to hide. When Claire was here
Ryan snatched the photo back from me, but it was too late.“Where did you get that?” I asked.Micro-expressions flickered across his face. Hope. Joy. Fear.I schooled myself to show friendly teasing, with a hint of female indignation. “I hope you’re not cheating on Laura,” I said. “International su







