"My wife just passed away." It was quiet enough to remain private. Trudy nodded slowly and leaned into me compassionately.

"I'm sorry," Trudy whispered back. I wasn't sure if she was sorry about my wife or the fact she flirted.

"Thanks."

"We have three more pots to fill," Trudy said, returning to the job at hand. I think she saw my need for manual labor. When I returned with more meat, there were two spatulas at the grill. We worked in tandem with the next three batches. She didn't flirt any more, but we bonded over the searing meat. She started humming 'Amazing Grace' as we cooked. I joined in...