Ally tied on her apron, stuck her order pad in her pocket, added her two favorite pens, and pulled her hair up into an efficient bun. The sigh that had been a daily companion for the last four years, two months and three days didn't tag along. Lighter somehow, she shoved open the swinging doors to the kitchen and stepped out into the maelstrom. It was like being hit by a massive wall of sounds all echoing off one another, and as always, Ally was surprised at how much she enjoyed it.

"Hey pretty lady," an old man said with a toothy grin.

"Hey yourself, Mr. Gainer." Ally leaned into the hug the man offered. "Does Mrs. Gainer know you're down here making eyes at me?"

He laughed and Ally heard the rattle in his chest. "Well, since you're here, let me get you a pint on me."

"Ah, now there's a woman who knows how to treat a man." Mr. Gainer kissed her cheek and Ally put in an order for his favorite Samuel Adams lager.

Ally put in orders, took food to hungry families, held a baby who was overtired from the misery of teething, and laughed until her sides hurt. "I'm out for the night, George," she called, ignoring the way her feet were begging to be rid of the demon shoes she was wearing.

"See you tomorrow, Allycat. Be sure to have Sam walk you out."

"Will do."

Sam, the muscle-y bouncer, stood up when she approached. "You look ready to drop."

"Nah," Ally smiled. "This is how I always look. Don't you like it?"

Sam grinned. "Girl, go home, open a good bottle of wine and sleep until your shift tomorrow."

"Wish I could, but mothering duty calls."

"Let them sleep until your shift tomorrow too."

Ally laughed. "My fondest dream."

Two hours later, Ally finally had her last child tucked into bed. She didn't open a bottle of wine, but she did take a hot shower and crawl into bed. Then she pulled the extra pillow close and breathed in the familiar scent of her husband's deoderant. The tears that had flooded his pillow in the beginning trickled out now. "I miss you Davey."

The alarm went off at 5:47 a.m.

Ally's hand shot out from beneath the blankets and slapped the snooze button before it could chirp a second time. For a moment, she lay perfectly still, staring at the faint gray light filtering through the curtains.

Another day.

She rolled over automatically, reaching for the other side of the bed before catching herself. The pillow still smelled faintly of Dave's deodorant, though not as strongly as it once had. Four years was a long time for a scent to linger.

Or maybe it was simply impossible to forget.

She sat up before her thoughts could settle too deeply.

"Mom?"

A sleepy voice drifted down the hallway.

"I'm up," Ally called.

Three seconds.

That was all it took.

The silence shattered into the familiar chaos of morning.

"I can't find my shoe!"

"Emma's using all the hot water!"

"Mom, Ben took my waffles!"

"I did not!"

"You did too!"

Ally smiled despite herself.

Home.

She padded into the kitchen, still wrapped in her robe, and started coffee before pulling eggs from the refrigerator. By the time the toaster popped, she'd packed two lunches, signed one permission slip she'd forgotten about until midnight, and rescued a bowl of cereal from the edge of the counter before it hit the floor.

Barely.

"You have superpowers," thirteen-year-old Emma muttered.

"No."

Ally slid scrambled eggs onto four plates.

"I just have experience."

Ben, ten, shoveled food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"You chew like that in public?" Ally asked.

He grinned.

"Nope."

"I believe that."

Seven-year-old Lucy climbed into her lap without asking.

"I had a dream about Daddy."

The room grew quiet.

Ally brushed a loose strand of hair behind Lucy's ear.

"Want to tell me?"

"He took us fishing."

Lucy frowned as though trying to remember every detail before it escaped.

"And he caught a fish bigger than our car."

Ben snorted.

"That's impossible."

Lucy crossed her arms.

"It was a dream."

Emma smiled into her orange juice.

"I miss him."

The words landed softly, but they filled the kitchen.

Ally reached across the table and squeezed Emma's hand.

"I know."

No speeches.

No promises that everything would be okay.

Just the truth.

"I miss him too."

After the kids left for school, the house became strangely enormous.

Ally wandered through the living room picking up abandoned socks, half-finished homework, and a plastic dinosaur that had somehow ended up on the bookshelf.

The quiet settled around her like fresh snow.

Years ago she would have hated it.

Now...

Sometimes it felt peaceful.

Sometimes it felt lonely.

Her phone buzzed on the counter.

Megan.

Her oldest friend never called this early unless something had happened.

Ally answered immediately.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Megan laughed. "Good morning to you too."

"You never call before eight."

"I know."

There was a pause.

"I have a favor."

Ally leaned against the counter.

"That sounded dangerous."

"It probably is."

"Go on."

"The community center needs volunteers for Saturday."

"I work Saturday."

"Not all day."

"Megan..."

"They're hosting a fundraiser."

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm asking."

"I know it involves people."

"It does."

"Then no."

Megan sighed dramatically.

"You're becoming a hermit."

"I literally work in a restaurant."

"That's work."

"I also have four children."

"Exactly why you need something that's yours."

Ally looked out the kitchen window.

The maple tree Dave had planted when Emma was born swayed gently in the morning breeze.

Something that's yours.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd done something simply because she wanted to.

Everything fit into neat little boxes.

Mom.

Server.

Laundry.

Groceries.

Bills.

Repeat.

"I'll think about it," she said finally.

Megan laughed triumphantly.

"I'll take that."

"You shouldn't."

"I absolutely should."

After hanging up, Ally carried her coffee onto the front porch.

The neighborhood was waking up.

A man walked an overly enthusiastic golden retriever.

Someone across the street wrestled with a stubborn garbage can lid.

A little girl rode her bike in wobbly circles while her father jogged beside her with one hand hovering over the seat.

Life.

Messy.

Ordinary.

Beautiful.

Ally wrapped both hands around her mug.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, the future didn't seem like something to survive.

It felt...

Unwritten.

She wasn't sure why that thought scared her as much as it did.

Or why, somewhere beneath the fear, it made her smile.