I’m very grateful for that. What I did was stupid. But it’s hard to feel bad about it when it feels so good to help this girl. I give her the cash I have in my wallet, which is not much. Seventy-two dollars. But her face lights up like I just handed her a million bucks. And then I make my way to the studio. Not to ambush Vaughn, but to hug him and say I’m sorry for being so difficult. I am not the girl with the world’s biggest problems. Maybe I was that girl once. (Or twice.) But I’m not her now. I’m lucky. I’m married to a great guy. I have a large home, lots of money, a car that doesn’t break down, friends, family, and good health. I’m so, so lucky. When I get to the gate, the security guard nods at some hanging thing on my rear-view that Vaughn must’ve placed in here the other day and waves me through with a, “Good evening, Mrs. Asher.” That’s it.
