Megan took longer, and I expected nothing from her, so when she showed up alone one afternoon with no spreadsheet and no agenda, I was surprised. She stood on my porch and said, “I spent a year treating the kindest woman I know like staff, and I did it because it was convenient, and I’m sorry.” Then she asked if I’d teach her how I make the pie crust she’d ordered me to produce a hundred times without once asking how. We made one together, in the yellow kitchen, and it was a start. Only a start. But I’ve learned that most good things are.
I don’t need their apologies to be whole. That’s the gift the money gave me that had nothing to do with the money. I stopped needing anything from anyone, and from that solid ground, I can finally offer the people who earn it something real.
