school day that seemed to contain six separate Fridays, I stopped for bread and a few ingredients. Sabrina was near the front, finishing a conversation with a coworker. She saw me, lifted her hand, and returned to what she was doing.
I waved and continued to the register.
By the time I paid, she was heading toward the employee exit with a bag over her shoulder. We reached the main doors almost together. Outside, the late-afternoon light spread warm and pale across the parking lot.
“Bread,” she said, looking into
