Spinach on Everything

Maya's summer job at Joe's Sandwich Shack wasn't exactly living her best life, but at least the tips were decent. She stood behind the counter, rocking her slightly-too-big apron, trying to look like she knew what she was doing even though she'd only worked there for two weeks.

"Hey Maya, you good?" asked Jordan, the cute barista from the coffee shop next door who came in every day for lunch. Maya's stomach did that weird fluttery thing that definitely meant she needed to calm down immediately.

"Yeah, just, uh, dealing with this order," she said, gesturing vaguely at the sandwich she'd been assembling for five minutes. "Health kick, you know?"

Jordan laughed. "No judgment. I've been doing the whole wellness thing too. Running every morning before my shift."

Maya nodded like she also ran (she didn't) and totally had her wellness journey mapped out (she didn't). The truth was, she'd been binge-watching reality TV until 2 AM every night, then barely dragging herself to work. The only thing she was running from was her confusing feelings about Jordan.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Mom again. Are you coming to dinner? Aunt Linda's making that spinach casserole you love.

Maya groaned inwardly. Aunt Linda's casserole was disgusting—somehow both mushy and dry at the same time. But family dinner was non-negotiable, especially since Dad left. Mom needed everything to feel "normal" now, even if normal meant forcing down questionable vegetables.

"Everything okay?" Jordan asked.

"Yeah, just family stuff." Maya sighed. "My mom's riding me about being home for dinner. Her sister's visiting and apparently I need to bond over spinach casserole."

"Sounds... intense?"

"You have no idea."

The cable guy who'd been working in the back finally emerged, looking defeated. "Your internet's down, Joe. Something about the line outside."

Joe, the owner, threw his hands up. "Of course it is. Because today couldn't get any worse."

Maya's phone buzzed again. Come home. We need to talk. Please.

That was different. Mom never said please in texts. Something was wrong.

"I have to go," Maya told Jordan, pulling off her apron. "Family emergency."

Jordan's eyes went wide. "Is everything okay?"

"I hope so."

As Maya rushed outside, she saw her family's dog, Bear, sitting in their car across the street. Bear was old, slow, and basically the only good thing about her parents' divorce. He'd somehow ended up with Dad, which felt unfair since Mom was the one who'd actually wanted him.

Mom stepped out of the car, looking exhausted. "We couldn't leave him alone anymore. His separation anxiety is getting worse, and your dad's working late again."

"So he's... staying with us?" Maya couldn't believe it. Bear, back?

"If that's okay. I know you've got a lot on your plate with work and everything—"

"Are you kidding? This is literally the best news ever." Maya ran to hug her mom, then Bear, who was thumping his tail like crazy.

The casserile was still gross, but sitting there with Bear at her feet, Mom actually smiling for once, Maya thought maybe normal wasn't so bad after all. Even with spinach on everything.