MUSCLES SHE DIDN’T remember having ached as Cassie entered Lucille’s Pizzeria to pick up dinner. The smell of garlic and cheese invited her inside as she pushed open the door. Sal, Lucille’s husband, was at the register and waved to her before handing change to the customer in front of him.

      Although she didn’t need to read the menu, since she’d heard it hadn’t changed in the forty-plus years Lucille had been in business, Cassie perused the items before deciding on her usual. Waiting for Sal to finish with his customer, she glanced around the tiny front of the restaurant. Sal had wanted to expand the business to include those who preferred to dine in, but he’d been outvoted by his wife. Lucille insisted that you didn’t mess with success.

      The customer left, and Cassie edged forward. “Hey, Sal. I’ll take the usual.”

      “Large deep dish with double olives. Got it.” He wrote it on a slip and passed it through the window to the kitchen area. “You know, we’ve got a new app so that you can order ahead of time and it’s ready when you arrive.”

      Since when had Lucille agreed to come into the twenty-first century? Probably one of her sons had convinced her. Still, nothing beat walking in and ordering her dinner with Sal. “But then we wouldn’t get a chance to chat.”

      Sal chuckled and wiped down the counter with a damp cloth. “Heard you made it into that contest.”

      “You saw that?”

      “Everyone from the neighborhood is talking about it.” He paused and leaned on the counter. “You sure make us proud, girl.”

      She huffed out a long breath. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. I still have a long way to go to win this contest.”

      “But you are going to win and show those other fellows a thing or two.”

      She kissed her fingertips and raised her hand to the ceiling. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

      “Is that Cassie out there?” Lucille, a large woman in a pristine white apron, walked out of the kitchen and came around the counter to hug her. “I saw that double olive order and knew it had to be you. How are you doing?”

      She wasn’t sure how to answer. Demolition would be finished the next morning if she had anything to say about it. And then the real work would begin. “Keeping busy, as always.”

      “You going to show those other contractors who’s the boss?”

      “That’s what I told her, Luce.”

      Lucille smiled and nodded. “Real proud of you for not letting them get to you. For standing up straight and saying, ‘Here I am. Judge me for my work. Not for my father.’”

      “But he’s still the first thing they think of when they see my name. It’s hard to get out from under his shadow.” And hard to accept that these two people on the perimeter of her life said the words she’d longed to hear from Daddy.

      Sal joined Lucille, putting an arm around his wife’s waist. “You’re not under his shadow, love. The only one who thinks that is you. It’s time for you to be on your own.”

      “And what if I can’t do it by myself?” This is what kept her awake at night. What if after all this she tried and failed? What if her success in the past had been her father all along, and not her own merits? She shook off their protests. “I know that I’m being hard on myself. But when have you known me not to be?”

      Sal put his arms on her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks. “We’ve watched you grow from a little snot-nosed kid who only ate cheese pizza to the fine young woman you are, double olives and all. You may not be blood, but you’re family all the same.” They caught up on neighborhood business for several more minutes.

      “Double olive pizza up,” someone shouted from the back, and a box of pizza slid through the window.

      Cassie started to dig for her wallet, but Lucille waved her off. “Your money is no good here tonight, hon. But you listen to a piece of advice from Lucille. You’re only as good as you think you are.” She tapped Cassie on the shoulders. “You chew on that while you eat dinner.”

      Cassie pulled out a $10 bill and stuffed it into the front pocket of Lucille’s apron. When the older woman protested, Cassie insisted. “For the advice.”

      Cassie ruminated on what Lucille had said as she drove home and then guided Evie into the backyard. Inside the house, she placed the box of pizza on the kitchen counter and found a paper plate for her first slice. She pulled out a longneck beer from the refrigerator and claimed a seat at the card table by the window to eat dinner.

      Outside, Evie chased a squirrel up a tree and barked up at it as it chattered back at her. Cassie smiled at the dog’s antics, knowing that Evie didn’t understand that the squirrel didn’t see her as a friend. All the squirrel could see was a big dog with big teeth and a loud bark.

      What did Cassie see when she looked at her possibilities? She was probably more like the squirrel than she’d care to admit. The future that loomed before her looked just as scary, with big teeth and a loud bark, waiting to tear her apart. Okay, so she was being overly dramatic. But she was the type that saw the glass as empty rather than one that could be refilled.

      As she ate her pizza, she thought over what Lucille had said. Her entire life had been spent with Daddy’s voice in her ears. If she brought home a B from school, why wasn’t it an A? If she retiled a bathroom, why hadn’t she done it faster?

      What would it have cost her father to say he was proud of her? Proud of what she had done?

      Her work for him had been scrutinized under the microscope of how it reflected on him. Her ideas and effort claimed by him. And she’d let him because he was her father and the owner of the company. Now that he wasn’t here, it fell on her shoulders. And what if it wasn’t good enough?