I say: I’m sorry, did you just ask if this wine pairs well with beaver tail?
He says: Yep. Nice top.
You’re lucky I’m the kind one: I say.
This is 9:30 a.m.
It will be a ten minute wait for a party of four: I say.
Can we not sit there?: she asks, motioning to a table behind a divider over which she cannot see.
No. There are still are people eating at that table: I say.
It does not look like anyone is there: she says.
I smile. It is much easier for me to seat people and not run a wait list.
I promise I would seat you if I could: I say.
She finally attempts to confirm her assumption by walking around the divider.
She sees two people still seated and eating.
It looked empty from this side: she said
Thank you for your patience: I say.
Would you like the table by the window (sic. best table in the house)? I ask.
I know how you do. Sit me here so the place looks busy, right?: she asks.
I’d wanna sit here if I were eating: I say.
I realize she is joking with me, by virtue of her kind reaction.
I stop. Let myself take a deep breath. Let her see myself smile
One of those mornings: I say.
Shelia and Don arrive.
I am Dimples to Shelia today.
I get a hug and a kiss on my cheek.
You are my surrogate granddaughter: she says.
My heart feels warm.
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