When she said acting normal would be difficult, it was the understatement of the year. She went to work, serving customers as she always did, doing her best not to spill dishes on people or setting the fire pits too high and scorching Saroj's arm hair. Or his chest hair. Or leg hair. She sighed. This night would never end.
“You know, that's the third glass you've broken tonight," Shayla, the hostess at Fireside Grille, said. “Not that I'm counting or anything. You sure you're all right?"
Meredith nodded. “It's been a stressful day, is all. I'll get past it." As she said it, she tripped, almost knocking the hostess stand over. “Damn it!" she snapped. She took a deep breath, glancing over at Shayla. “Sorry. I swear, I'll stop screwing up."
Shayla reached out, placing her hand on Meredith'
