“Yes, you help out a lot, and I’m very grateful for it; the bakery wouldn’t be running without you. But I’d much rather see you enjoying your teen years while you can. I worry that you’re going to look back when you’re twenty or forty and all you’ll remember is your desk and the dishes. Really, it would ease my guilt if you did.” Her smile is sad. “I never wanted you to have to grow up this fast.” My head buzzes. I can’t believe it. It’s like spending years of your life training for a game only to realize you understood the rules all wrong. “I’m going to make that soup now.” Mom stands up.
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