Chapter 1 - THE MAN AT TABLE 14
“Why?”
Daniel asked the question so quietly that Emily almost pretended she hadn’t heard him.
She stood beside Table 14 with one hand resting on the back of the empty chair across from him.
“Because you looked hungry.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
His eyes lifted to hers.
“Why would you spend your own money on a stranger when you clearly need it yourself?”
Emily glanced down at her shoes.
The left sole had started separating near the toe three weeks ago. She had fixed it twice with super glue.
Daniel had noticed.
Of course he had.
“I know what it feels like,” she said.
“What?”
“To be sitting somewhere pretending you’re not hungry because you don’t want anyone to know you can’t afford the food.”
Something changed in his face.
He looked at the bowl of chicken soup.
Then at the bread.
Then back at Emily.
“You’ve been there?”
“More than once.”
Daniel picked up the spoon.
Before he could take the first bite, a sharp voice cut across the dining room.
“Emily.”
Curtis Miller stood near the service station.
Her manager was forty-six, permanently irritated, and wore expensive shirts that always seemed one size too tight around his neck.
He crooked a finger.
“Office. Now.”
Emily’s stomach sank.
She looked at Daniel.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
Then she followed Curtis through the swinging kitchen door.
The moment they reached the narrow office, he shut it.
“What did you just do?”
Emily folded her arms.
“I bought a customer dinner.”
“You bought a vagrant dinner.”
“He’s not a vagrant.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.”
Curtis stared at her.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“He was hungry.”
“This is a restaurant, Emily. Not a shelter.”
She clenched her jaw.
“I paid for it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is people come here to spend money. They don’t want to eat next to someone who wandered in off the street.”
“He’s wearing a coat and sitting quietly.”
“He doesn’t belong here.”
Emily felt something inside her harden.
“Neither do I, apparently.”
Curtis’s expression changed.
“Watch your attitude.”
She laughed once.
“You’re threatening me because I fed someone with my own money.”
“I’m warning you because your job is to follow policy.”
“There’s a policy against kindness?”
“There’s a policy against giving away food.”
“I paid.”
“You’re done for tonight.”
Emily stared at him.
“What?”
“Clock out.”
“Curtis, I still have two tables.”
“I’ll transfer them.”
“Are you firing me?”
“Not yet.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
Emily thought of rent.
Tyler’s broken car.
Her empty wallet.
“Not yet?”
“Go home. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
She stood there for a second.
Then removed her apron.
“Fine.”
When she returned to the dining room, Daniel was halfway through his soup.
He immediately noticed her apron was gone.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He set down his spoon.
“That didn’t look like nothing.”
“My manager has the personality of a parking ticket.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“Did you get in trouble because of me?”
“No.”
That was a lie.
And they both knew it.
Emily grabbed her coat from the back.
Daniel stood.
“Wait.”
She stopped.
He reached into his coat pocket.
“I don’t want your money,” she said.
“I wasn’t offering money.”
He pulled out a small card.
Plain white.
No logo.
No title.
Just a name and phone number.
Daniel Reeves.
Emily looked at it.
“What is this?”
“If tomorrow becomes worse than today, call me.”
She almost laughed.
“I don’t even know you.”
“No.”
“Then why would I call you?”
Daniel looked toward Curtis, who was watching from across the room.
“Because sometimes the person who owes you the most is the stranger you helped when nobody was watching.”
Emily tucked the card into her pocket mostly to end the conversation.
“Eat your pie.”
Daniel glanced at the slice Luis had brought.
“Apple?”
“Luis believes pie fixes everything.”
“He may be right.”
Emily smiled despite herself.
Then she walked toward the front door.
Behind her, Curtis marched toward Table 14.
“Sir, I’m afraid we’re closing.”
Daniel remained seated.
“I haven’t finished.”
“You’ll need to.”
Emily stopped near the entrance.
Curtis lowered his voice.
“And for future reference, this establishment has standards.”
Daniel looked up.
The entire dining room seemed to quiet.
“What kind of standards?”
Curtis shifted.
“Dress expectations. Customer expectations.”
Daniel slowly placed his napkin on the table.
Then he stood.
He was taller than Curtis by several inches.
His voice stayed calm.
“You should be very careful how you speak to people you believe have nothing.”
Curtis frowned.
“Excuse me?”
Daniel buttoned his old coat.
“Because someday you may discover the man you’re insulting could buy this restaurant.”
Curtis laughed.
One of the bartenders laughed too.
Daniel didn’t.
He walked past Emily.
At the door, he paused.
“Thank you for dinner.”
Then he disappeared into the snow.
Curtis shook his head.
“Crazy old guy.”
Emily walked home through freezing wind.
She reached her apartment twenty-nine minutes later with numb fingers and soaked shoes.
At 11:58, while emptying her pockets, she found Daniel’s card again.
She almost threw it away.
Then she noticed something handwritten on the back.
Four words.
Ask about your father.
Emily stared at them.
May you like
Her father had been dead for nineteen years.
And she had never told Daniel his name.
